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holllandtrash · 1 year ago

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haunted | daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader (part 2 to fragile line)

Can't breathe whenever you're gone Can't turn back now, I'm haunted

you're racing. daniel isn't, but he's not gone either, is he? word count: 7.6k (im so sorry) warnings/tags: angst really, more incorrect f2 stats but whatever, time jumps again, platonic love all around, not as big of a rollercoaster as part 1 but just wait till part 3 lol

“Do you know?”

“Do I know what?” You asked, wondering why that was the first thing your teammate said when you opened the door to your flat.

Lando didn’t even bother with a ‘hey, how was your day, what’s up’, he was just straight to the point, only you had no idea what the point was.

He was still on a high after coming in second place the other day, so you let the impoliteness slide. Usually Lando didn’t look like a mix between a sweaty mess and a confused child, but you assumed he was like this because whatever was on his mind was important.

“You haven’t- did you-” Lando stammered over his words. “When’s the last time you checked your phone?”

You felt around in your pockets and glanced over your shoulder with a bit of a shrug. If you were being honest, you hadn’t looked at your phone in a few hours. Your morning was spent training and running errands now that you had some time and were home for a little while before the next race. You were still carrying a lot of energy after your successful finish in Silverstone that sitting still and scrolling through your phone was the last thing you wanted to be doing right now.

“Can you just find your phone, please?” Lando asked, because he didn’t want to be the person to break the news. He came over to talk to you, to walk you through it, to be someone to vent to if you needed it, but the last thing he wanted was to be the one to say it.

It took a minute, but you found it in your bedroom, the screen lighting up and vibrating with each notification. As you walked back towards Lando, you scrolled through them all, trying to see which was the most important.

Eventually, you landed on one from the official F1 app.

Daniel Ricciardo Replaces Nyck de Vries

Daniel Ricciardo was returning to the grid.

Daniel was coming back.

But did he ever really leave in the first place?

You hadn’t spoken to him since that day in Monaco, almost a year ago now. The day your relationship fell apart, crumbling to pieces around you.

You thought maybe, maybe, he’d call you before the next race or at least try to find you somewhere in the paddock to have a civil conversation but that didn’t happen.

Of course, neither of you had time for a conversation anyway.

Daniel released his video 24 hours before media day in Belgium, announcing he would be leaving the team. It broke your heart watching it in your hotel room, knowing he was only a few floors up and probably struggled to record it. You could picture him retaking it a few times, just to get the words right, his tone right. He didn’t want to paint McLaren as being at fault for this decision, even if that was the case.

If you weren’t the driver who was set to replace him, you would have been there in that room giving him encouraging nods and telling him to just speak to the fans. You would have been there when his head fell back against the wall in defeat, eyes closed as the weight of his unknown future crashed down on him. You would have crawled onto his lap and held him, telling him that another team was going to be desperate for him.

Instead you were in your own room, watching the video like the millions of other followers he had. The only difference was, none of those followers asked themselves if they were to blame.

It was just you, wiping the corner of your eyes and asking yourself if this was your fault.

Surely when your news dropped, people would start pointing fingers, people would talk.

Daniel Ricciardo trained her, they would say. He helped her get to this point and now she’s taking his seat.

They’d throw assumptions into the wind about how this was probably your plan all along.

It wasn’t, of course. Your plan was to get a seat in Formula 1 and see Daniel as friendly competition when you stepped onto the grid. You wanted to keep the support system alive when you moved up, knowing you had someone watching your back when you climbed out of the car. You wanted to be able to go home with him at the end of the night on Sunday and watch the race back with him, playfully critiquing each other's moves and ideally celebrating your victories, together.

You never wanted to leave him without a seat.

But part of you must have known he wasn’t driving next year, right? You never brought up the contract, he never talked about leaving, nor did he talk about potentially moving to another team, which seemed like something you’d talk to your partner about.

Daniel said nothing. You said nothing. And in the back of your head you knew he wasn’t signed to another team, you just didn’t want to accept it.

You didn’t want to admit that part of that was your fault.

Zak Brown put you in the worst position possible. He was giving you the chance to make your dream a reality, but in doing so, you were losing the one person who shared that dream with you.

It shouldn’t have been hard to put on a smile during that post-race interview in Spa. You finished second, your hot streak had continued despite the turmoil your heart was going through. So not only was the adrenaline pumping through your veins from the podium, but McLaren had decided that morning was the perfect time to announce you were replacing Daniel.

They didn’t word it like that, though. They just stated that you were to race for McLaren for 2023. No mention of Daniel, even if that was all anyone had questions about.

“Second place in Spa, how are you feeling?” The reporter asked as you struggled to get comfortable in the white leather chair, your trophy at your feet.

You weren’t surprised he, Richard from the official FIA reporting team, jumped directly to you, bypassing any questions for Liam Lawson who finished third. No one had yet to get a comment on your official move to F1, not having any time this morning since the news was announced.

“It's exciting, it’s good to be back as well,” you nodded, turning to Felipe on your right who nodded as well. “A break is always needed, but there’s really no better feeling than getting back behind the wheel.”

“You’ve never podiumed here before,” Richard pointed out, “There’s quite a difference in performance from last year to this year, we’ve all noticed.”

“Is there a question in there somewhere?” You laughed, not caring at all if it sounded forced, and you knew it did because Liam raised his hand to mouth to hide his chuckle and tried to play it off like he was just scratching his jaw.

“Well it’s just no wonder that McLaren has snatched you up for the 2023 season, with how much you’ve shown this year what you’re capable of. Care to comment on that?”

There it was. The first official request to talk about McLaren.

“I mean, we’ve all seen the news at this point,” another laugh but this time it was more out of discomfort.

You looked at Felipe, he nodded again but it was short and encouraging, silently telling you it was okay to take the spotlight even though it was him who had won this race.

You cleared your throat, thinking about what the PR team from McLaren told you. You’re focused on Prema. McLaren knows this. McLaren is supporting you while you finish your F2 season and by all means, shut down any topic regarding Daniel Ricciardo.

“Really, I’m just focused on finishing the season off strong with Prema,” you told Richard, feeling your smile start to slip because how could you be excited over that or a trophy when you knew what he was thinking and what the whole world was thinking.

You prayed he wouldn’t bring it up, but the media world was hell.

“And Daniel’s departure-

Liam promptly lifted the mic to lips, cutting off Richard before he could finish that thought. “We’ll all miss her, I think that’s safe to say. But maybe it’ll be a bit easier for the rest of us to podium when she’s gone.”

Quiet laughter spread through the audience and you just turned to Liam and mouthed a quick ‘thank you’. He didn’t say anything back, just dropped his head to your shoulder for a second and smiled, playing up the whole we’ll miss her statement. It wasn’t an act, though. Most of the guys you raced with had stopped you at some point this morning sharing their congrats and giving you a hug, telling you that you deserved that spot in F1.

Even Felipe said it and meant it, and he was on the fast track to win this year, also eyeing a spot in F1. You had a good support system in this series.

He dropped his head to your other shoulder and your lips fell into a playful pout, raising your hands to the sides of both driver’s faces. It made a cute photo. The F1 social media team really played into the love you had from your competitors.

You had a lot of support in the paddock, surprisingly, from other drivers.

Mick found you before his own race started. He was your first teammate during your rookie season in F2, it only made sense he was the first current driver to congratulate you.

“You deserve it,” Mick told you, arms tightly wrapped around your body as he gave you a comforting embrace that almost compared to the one you were craving from Daniel, but still something was missing.

Mick’s contract was up at the end of 2022, and no one knew where he was going but he assured you that no matter what, he’d be on your side.

You sort of interacted with Lando on Sunday after your feature race. When you passed him in the paddock, he held his hand out for a fist bump and gave you a wide smile. The cameras caught it, they caught everything apparently, and it was the first photo you saw on social media when you got to the airport late Sunday evening.

First of many celebratory fist bumps, McLaren’s caption said. It was a nice photo, truly.

Too bad the comments were anything but.

Not McLaren hyping up the fact that Danny’s girlfriend is replacing himIsn’t she only fourth in the driver standings in F2 lol We don’t want her we want the honey badgerEven worse when you think about the fact that they are literally in a relationship and she’s taking his seatNo class from any of them

No one seemed to know that you and Daniel were done, but how would they know? Your relationship was private, your break up would be too.

Your break up.

And then it hit you. Right there in the airport. After the adrenaline of a podium had worn off. After the excitement of signing with a new team had passed. After you were finally left alone after being surrounded by your team and drivers and press all day, you broke down.

It was embarrassing. The only saving grace was the fact that you were sat in the corner of the premium lounge, facing the windows, so at least no one could see you cry. You weren’t quiet though, you knew your faint sobs could be heard from anyone within a 3 metre radius.

And you knew how immature this was, crying in an airport. But when you felt things you felt them with every fibre in your being. You were overjoyed beyond words, shaking when you got first podium in F2, and then feeling that multiplied by fifty when you won in Monaco.

You were madly in love with Daniel, despite only dating for a year. It wasn’t young love, puppy love, a whirlwind romance, or any of those sappy headlines. You were head over heels, ready to spend your life with the man who lifted you up above the rest of the world. Who not only put you on a pedestal, but made sure other people did too. He was always in your corner, even before you started dating. He loved you long before you even realised you could also love him.

As an athlete, as a future world championship contender, as a friend, Daniel loved you.

The day you knew you loved him, you knew you were screwed, you both talked about the risks.

Fragile line, you called it, walking a tightrope, he joked. There was such a huge margin of error, so many things that could go wrong by falling in love with, not only a driver but the driver who mentored you.

The media would turn against you. Sponsors would shake their heads. Your future could have been jeopardised. You’d be labelled as a poor role model for girls in motorsport.

You walked a dangerous and delicate line with Daniel, but you didn’t think it would snap beneath your feet. You never thought you’d be the one to break it.

So yes, you were full on sobbing in the airport as you waited to board your flight to Amsterdam.

“Pretty sure podium winners aren’t usually this distraught.”

You heard the British accent and immediately sat up, wiping your eyes and sniffling to at least try and make it seem like you weren’t crying. You turned your head and watched as Lando sat down next to you on the dark blue chair, resting a leg over his knee.

You didn’t say anything, you just stared at him, worrying that if you did try to talk, all that would come out would be more cries.

Lando reached into the front pocket of his backpack and pulled out a travel size pack of tissues, tossing them to you without so much as a word. He waited a few minutes as you composed yourself, using some of the tissues and pocketing the rest for later.

“You okay?” Lando asked, sounding concerned for your well being because he had a point, podium winners aren’t usually this distraught.

“Am I okay?” You repeated back followed with a playful scoff. “Do I look okay?”

“You look awful.”

“I feel awful.”

Lando nodded, clearly unsure what to do in this situation. His current teammate, his friend, was leaving at the end of this year and his new teammate, a girl he had barely had 5 conversations with, was having a breakdown in the airport.

Lando, whether he liked it or not, knew he would be caught in the middle of whatever this mess was for the next few months or so.

He knew you and Daniel were an item. Daniel told himself shortly after Silverstone, and only because Lando had asked, simply curious.

“You and Y/N,” he started off, hesitantly, seeing the two of you interact much more flirtatiously then you had before. “You two are..” he didn’t know how to word it.

Daniel just winked, “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

That pretty much confirmed it. And then when you started showing up in the back of the McLaren garage during race weekends, Lando sort of accepted it, quickly getting used to seeing you around.

You were always friendly with each other, but your attention was always on Daniel, too. Lando saw the way you were quick to rush to his side after a difficult race. How you were the first one Daniel looked for when he stepped out of the car, eyes searching the sea of orange for you. Lando heard the way Daniel talked about you, the way he praised you, telling everyone who would listen that you deserved a spot in Formula 1. That man had a note saved on his phone of your stats, race wins, qualifying times, records broken, all of it.

Daniel loved you. Everyone who knew him saw it, and Lando was no exception.

So one could imagine the uncertainty he felt as he approached you in the airport. Surely you and Daniel weren’t together anymore, right? Or were you somehow going to work through this? Could you work through it? Taking his seat?

Lando, like everyone else, was dying to know.

“Has he said anything?” You asked him before Lando had a chance to get a word out. That question alone confirmed that you and Daniel weren’t on speaking terms at least.

“About you?” Lando asked and when you nodded, he saw the devastation hit your eyes as he shook his head. “Honestly he wasn’t very talkative today, left right after the post race stuff.”

“How is he?” You then asked. “Has he- is there any word on him finding a seat next year?” You pulled your knees up to your chest, staring hopefully at the British driver.

It pained Lando to shake his head again, “Not yet, but it’s still pretty early. I’m sure he’ll find a seat.”

You nodded, praying that Lando was right. When you dropped your chin to your knees, averting your eyes when you felt the tears well up again, Lando’s chest grew tight. He felt bad for you. This was a hard position for you to be in.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” Lando assured you. “Danny’s one of the best there is, but the results just aren’t there. Zak didn’t see any point in continuing if it’ll just end up being more of the same.”

Lando tried to be encouraging, really, and you were thankful for that, but he got the hint after a while that you just didn’t want to talk about it. Before leaving you alone, he gave you his number and told you that if you needed anything, to just reach out.

You were always friendly with Lando, but that was the start to your friendship.

It was Lando who shared your picture when you claimed first place in Zandvoort, celebrating your success with a cheeky caption stating how he better see you bring the hot streak to McLaren next year. He was the one who interrupted your post-race interview in Monza, spotting you in the paddock being interviewed by Will Buxton. Lando, despite needing to follow his own pre-race schedule, came and draped an arm over your shoulder and playfully interrupted whatever Will was trying to say.

“Look at that,” Will laughed when you struggled to shake Lando’s arm off of you, “Future teammates. Lando, how excited are you to be working with this incredible talent next year?”

“Oh extremely excited,” Lando answered, leaning into the mic gripped between your fingers. “She won’t be able to keep up with me though.”

And that it was it. He ruffled his hand through your hair and took off again.

He checked in on you between races, whenever a new headline was trending, whenever someone from social media had the audacity to compare yours and Daniels stats and pin you against each other as if there wasn’t already enough you were struggling with.

Lando didn’t want you to come into the new season already feeling defeated. He was still friends with Daniel, he always would be, but he had a kind heart. He wanted you to know that he wasn’t on anyones ‘side’, but more importantly, he saw you as a driver, as his next teammate. He didn’t see you as Daniel’s ex who was now stealing his seat like half of the world did.

It was also his car that you drove during the practice sessions in Austin and Abu Dhabi. Lando happily stepped aside for you, giving you a supportive pat on the back and strategically blocking your line of sight towards Daniel as he got ready for his sessions as well.

You still hadn’t spoken. You hadn’t even looked at each other. You tried, honestly, to catch his eye but he refused to even glance your way. He was in and out of that car so quick, finding any excuse to leave the garage while you were there.

It hurt. You knew his mind was made up. He was upset, he was hurt, he wanted nothing to do with you and seeing you in his garage sent him spiralling.

All you saw was Daniel turning his back on you, but what you didn’t know was this situation was giving Daniel constant headaches. He couldn’t look at you, the girl he loved, and watch you climb into the McLaren knowing that you’d be doing that throughout the entire next season and he wouldn’t.

All he ever wanted was to see you in a Formula 1 car, but not like this.

You stood in Lando’s side of the garage during the last race. You wore your McLaren jacket, you had the orange headphones on as stared up at the screen. Your back was towards Daniel’s car, so you missed the way he did actually look at you. It pained him to see how well you blended in with the team, his team. He almost told himself it looked like you belonged there, but he quickly put his helmet on and climbed into his car, gearing up for the race.

He finished 9th. Lando finished 6th. And with that, the season ended.

Daniel was done.

You watched him celebrate with those closest to him. You stood off to the side and thought about how if things were different, you’d be clinging to him, sweaty race suit and all, waiting to congratulate him in your own way back at the hotel. You would tell him you loved him, that he didn’t need McLaren. You’d joke and say that you two could form your own team, because that’s what you should have been till the end, a team.

But that wasn’t the case anymore. McLaren was your team now.

It was only a matter of days until Daniel spoke to the media about his departure.

“I can’t speak ill of her,” Daniel said, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. He knew that coming on this podcast that he’d be asked about you and your contract. He was advised against it but the second his working relationship ended with McLaren, he agreed to talk, to share his side.

“But she’s the one who took your seat,” Jaycee so politely pointed out. “As happy as I am to see a female in Formula 1, it’s bittersweet knowing a driver such as yourself is left without a spot.”

Daniel sighed into the mic in front of him, “McLaren handed her her dream on a papaya platter and she grabbed it. I think a lot of drivers would do the same in that scenario.”

“But it stings a little more, doesn’t it?” Greyson, her co-host asked. “Because you two were-

“Friends, yeah,” Daniel interrupted. “Yeah we were close.”

“You mentored her,” Greyson pushed for more of an admittance as to what their relationship was. “You were seen with her and the Prema team during a handful of weekends. She even said you were her mentor.”

Daniel naturally hesitated, “I saw her potential early on and I wanted to help her grow. I really did want to see her in Formula 1, despite what anyone says about the situation she’s an incredible driver.”

“Everyone who follows Formula 1 knows you have a strong connection,” Jaycee said, subtly trying to pry for more as well. “After her Silverstone crash in 2021 you were in her garage. And then you were seen in Monaco together a few weeks later. You two weren’t just friends in the paddock, you worked closely together outside of race weekends too-

“Did your girlfriend take your seat or not?” Greyson blurted out, earning a glare from Jaycee on his left, but he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He wanted to know, the whole world wanted to know what was going on between you and Daniel now that you were signed for McLaren.

And you had to give props to Daniel, he played it off about as smoothly as he could.

“McLaren sees more potential in her than me,” he said, still smiling because that’s who he was. A people pleaser, always grinning, always a breath of fresh air. “If they can give her what they promised me, then that’s good for all of them. Do I like how the situation went down? No, but that’s the reality of Formula 1. You’re not safe unless you’re winning and I wasn’t winning.”

“And your relationship-

“She doesn’t need a mentor anymore, does she?” Daniel asked, disregarding any ideas of the two of you dating. “She made it to Formula 1. That was what she wanted. I wish her well.”

That was the closest thing to confirmation of your break up that anyone would get.

And the interview ended shortly after that, doing wonders on Spotify and Apple Podcasts. You listened to it also, just waiting for Daniel to say something horrible but of course he didn’t. That wasn’t him. He was the good guy. He was the hero. He got you to Formula 1 and was holding his head up high, wishing you well and thanking McLaren for the last 2 years.

You wished it ended there, the conversations surrounding you. It should have ended there.

But fast forward to the awards dinner at the end of the year, just shortly after the last race of the season.

You sat with your mum at a round table with Felipe and his partner and few other people involved in Formula 2.

You had finished second in the standings, not first like you had dreamt of, but Felipe told you that first place in the championship would come in F1, don’t worry.

And you weren’t sure who had made the seating chart, but from where you sat, you could easily see Daniel at his table, only a few metres away from your own. He sat with some of his friends and some people from his personal team. He was also purposely avoiding looking in your direction, knowing that if he did, he’d be making eye contact for the first time in months.

He’d see your stunning features and bright eyes standing out among the rest. He’d see the low cut, thinly strapped black dress, showing off the collarbones he used to mark with his lips, the trail between your breast and down to your navel that he used to make with his tongue. If he looked at you, he’d think of all the ways the night would have ended if things were different.

If he looked at you, he’d be reminded that the girl he loved was the one who broke him. He’d be reminded that as hurt as he was by your actions, by taking his seat, he couldn’t forget the memories you made, the moments he shared, the way he used to admire you.

He didn’t love you anymore, though. He couldn’t. He forced those feelings out, replacing them with regret for ever deciding to help you because if he hadn't helped you, it wouldn’t have been you that took his seat.

So Daniel looked at the stage, his friends, his food. He didn’t look at you.

He didn’t even look at you when you walked up to collect your trophy, choosing that moment to be the perfect time to walk up to the open bar. He ordered a few more drinks and a shot on a whim, downing it back before walking to the table, 2 freshly poured glasses of rum and cokes in hand.

Daniel got drunk that night. He didn’t mean to, but it helped him deal with all he had going on. It was a good way to end the 2022 season, to put it behind him. You, McLaren, all of it.

Someone should have stopped him when he noticed you about to leave at the end of the night, a white coat draped over your shoulders. That should be my blazer, Daniel thought, thinking of the countless nights he had given you his jacket for warmth.

You were in the middle of a conversation with someone from Prema when you felt a tug in your arm. When you looked up and saw it was Daniel who was pulling you off to the side, your heart sank. There were no butterflies anymore, just a lot of anxiety and guilt eating you from the inside.

You could tell he hadn’t thought through what he was going to say. For a split second, his gaze was soft, almost like he thought about congratulating you for a successful season. For a moment, proud Daniel was back and for a moment, you got your hopes up. Maybe this line you broke could be fixed.

It was a bad sign when his eyes grew cold, features hardening along with them. This man, who was all you wanted, stared at you like you were a stranger, and maybe you were now.

He opened his mouth and the room around you fell dark and quiet. It was your mind playing horrible tricks on you, putting a spotlight in this moment in time so it would haunt your memories after tonight. You knew the earth was still spinning, that people around you were still moving, but you couldn’t trust anything, frozen in this space with Daniel.

“I hope you’re happy,” Daniel spoke softly, but his words cut through you like a knife. If someone told you that your heart was bleeding, you’d believe it. That’s certainly what it felt like.

He didn’t want you to be happy. He didn’t want you taking his seat. He didn’t want to see you live out his dream. He put on a beautiful charade for the press, but deep down you knew, he saw you as nothing more but a mistake. He no longer wanted you to succeed, despite telling the world he wished you would.

"Daniel-"

You automatically reached for him and he flinched backwards. It hurt, seeing him react how he was. He didn’t want you touching him, he just wanted to get one more word in, wanted you to know that he was still bitter and would be for a while.

You stood there and watched him walk away, haunted by the pain and broken trust in his eyes, a look that would become burned into your mind during your restless sleeps.

And then there was the week where you just didn’t sleep. The week after Daniel’s contract with Red Bull was announced.

He wasn’t driving with them, but he wasn’t leaving Formula 1 either.

He’d still be around the paddock during selective race weekends. He’d be there, putting on a show for the fans because everyone loved him. Everyone wanted him on the grid, and if he couldn’t race, at least he was still there in the garage as a reserve driver.

The same excitement couldn’t be said for you.

Despite forming a close bond with Lando really early into the pre-season, it helped that he was only two years younger than you, you were not met with open arms and loud cheers.

You had some supporters, a lot actually, but nothing compared to Daniel’s fans. You were pulled alert and critiqued for every move you made. You could understand the questions that circulated when you didn’t even finish the first race in Bahrain, retiring early because of an engine problem. Did Zak really make the right move by replacing Daniel with you? What could you bring to the team if this was how you started the season?

But it was the talk about what you did off the track that really got to you. You didn’t care if people weren’t a fan of your driving, you knew F1 fans had their favourites and you knew you weren’t everyone’s.

However social media had a way of spinning everything. You lost count of the ridiculous rumours. Apparently, you were now replacing Daniel with Lando because that playful interview you did talking about red flags in relationships really gave away the fact you were sleeping together.

Oh you were also sleeping with Mick Schumacher, because you had a thing for reserve drivers, it seemed. And the way he found you after your second race without points again in Saudi Arabia made it so obvious that you were with him.

And you couldn’t forget about how big of a bitch you were, choosing to not acknowledge Daniel in Australia when you walked past him in the paddock. It was his home race, he was the reason you were even racing, and you couldn’t even stop and give him a smile?

These rumours were truly getting annoying.

Of course, you couldn’t come out and tell people that Lando was seeing someone because it was so new and private and not your story to tell. No one cared that Mick was your teammate at Prema in 2020 and you guys had always been friends. No one would believe you if you said that you didn’t even see Daniel in the paddock, being too engrossed in your conversation to notice that the Australian was walking past.

You grew to hate seeing him during race weekends.

It was a constant reminder of what could have been.

What if you had waited a year and signed with McLaren then? Would Daniel still hold this hatred towards you if his contract played out like it was supposed to?

What if you signed with a different team like Williams instead, and someone else replaced Daniel? If Oscar Piastri had taken his spot, would Daniel be this resentful still to see you driving? Or would he happily walk by your side in the paddock, him in Red Bull polo, you in your Williams racing suit? Would he have accompanied you during the race weekends when he didn’t have Red Bull duties?

Was there ever a scenario where he stood in your garage and watched you race? Cheering you on, despite what place you finished? Despite where he was in his own career?

Or was that just a far fetched dream?

Because let’s face it, if Daniel was still racing this year, it would be hard to support you and focus on his own season. How could he be happy if he DNF’d and you finished in the points? How could you be happy if the media would say that you were only using Daniel to get ahead?

If you had signed for Williams and Daniel was still replaced, it would be difficult for him to watch you race, to watch you do what he loved. How could he be in your corner when he no longer had a corner of his own to stand in?

Maybe you were doomed from the start. Fragile line, you said. How true that was. It was always going to snap.

You heard through the grapevine that Daniel had said you taking his seat before his contract was even up was the worst thing you could have possibly done.

Was that in regards to McLaren? To your relationship? From a sportsmanship standpoint? You had no idea. You just knew Daniel wasn’t impressed that you were racing and he wasn’t.

You hated seeing him during the few races he attended. You were petrified to run into him in the paddock, in the pit lane, in the hotel for christ sakes, you didn’t want to see him. At one point, you were desperate for even just a smidge of attention from him and now you felt sick whenever you heard he would be in attendance.

You went five races in a row without scoring any points. You could practically hear Daniel’s smug expression when you crossed the finish line each time. He was probably eating this up, knowing you were the one struggling now.

The only difference was, you didn’t have him to turn to after a shitty run in the McLaren.

Lando tried to be helpful, but he was struggling too. People called the car a tractor and honestly, so did you and Lando in private. You had a group chat with your personal trainers and the four of you called yourselves the farmers. The jokes made and lighthearted conversations shared were the only silver linings during this depressing start of a season.

Monaco was better, sort of.

You finished 10th, so at least that was a point under your belt.

But Daniel was everywhere.

He loved Monaco, he lived in Monaco, of course it was no surprise he was there that weekend.

You found yourself jogging past his flat the Thursday before the race, and you didn’t do it on purpose but it was the same route you had taken all of those times you had spent days on end at Daniel’s. Sometime he joined you for those morning runs, sometime you’d return and he was making breakfast.

But you came to a stop on the opposite side of the street and stared up at it, recognising his balcony instantly. You saw the plant in the corner that you had given him a few months into your relationship and despite him claiming he wasn’t a plant guy, he managed to keep it alive.

Your heart felt heavy. All you wanted was to knock on his door and be welcomed in with wide arms and that stupid smile of his. You wanted to not feel anxious when you saw him in the paddock. You wanted to not be holding your breath every time you got out of the racecar, wondering what Daniel thought of your run.

You were simultaneously on edge at all moments while also still dying to make him proud. You didn’t think that would ever go away.

Even during the weekends he wasn’t there, you were looking over your shoulder constantly. Even if you knew that he was on the other side of the world, he was still on your mind. He haunted your thoughts from the moment you walked into the garage to when you got out of the car at the end of the race weekend.

Lando called you out on it that Thursday in Silverstone.

“You’re in your head,” he told you, seeing how your main focus wasn’t racing, it was Daniel. You were unsure what he was referring to though and Lando just rolled his eyes, “Well actually, Daniel’s in your head. And he’s keeping you from being the driver I know you can be.”

That was all he said on the topic.

And he was right.

You were so worried about Daniel. About what he would think of your races. About trying to avoid him during the weekends he was there. About still trying to make him proud but not too proud where he resented you more for taking his seat. About the hundreds of scenarios that could have happened if you had made a different choice.

Because of all of these thoughts, that seat at McLaren was still very much Daniel’s. You allowed it to be.

You needed to stop telling yourself you took his seat because that’s what it would always be then, his seat. Lando stood up, patting your knee after dropping those few words and you decided right then and there that it was your seat.

You wouldn’t let Daniel haunt you anymore.

And qualifying was where this new mentality really showed.

You were buzzing with energy when your engineer told you that you had gotten P3 and were starting on the second row for tomorrows race. You climbed out of the car in parc ferme and ran directly to Lando. He hugged you, he was proud of you.

“That’s the driver we all know,” Lando said when he pulled his helmet off. His hand was on your shoulder, both of you were wearing identical smiles of pure joy. “Where the hell has she been all this time?”

You didn’t even have an answer, too excited about what this meant for you, for the team. You post-quali interviews went by in a blur, your hands were shaking the entire time. You blacked out during it, still trying to process the fact that you had finished third in qualifying, but you did remember Lando reaching over at one point and dropping his hand to your knee. It was polite, it didn’t mean anything more than a playful stop shaking you’re making us all look bad, but god did the media run with it.

You didn’t let anything on social media get to you, telling yourself that you had to stay focused for the race. In fact you even gave your phone to your trainer, Oliver, asking him to take it for the night and to just wake you up in the morning.

And Oliver was a good trainer, he had also become a good friend since you joined McLaren so you trusted him with your phone.

Which meant he knew your password.

So when he saw your phone light up that night with a text from Daniel, Oliver panicked. He knew the right thing to do would be to just leave it alone, you’d see it in the morning. You’d see the message. The short but seemingly sweet;

P3, nice job

But a text like that would send you spiralling and you didn't need that before one of the most important races of the season for you, Oliver knew this. He knew you were supposed to be getting over Daniel, he knew how much the Australian just being in the paddock messed with your mind. He knew you had to focus on racing.

There was so much uncertainty with the text. Was this him extending an olive branch? Was he genuine, or was this supposed to be taken with a bit of salt? Oliver could read it both ways. Either Daniel was truly happy for you, or this could be dripping with sarcasm. P3, sure, but remember who’s seat you’re in.

Oliver decided to delete the text. There was no trace of it when he handed the phone back to you the next day.

Maybe that was for the best, no one knew.

All you knew was you were starting third today.

All Daniel knew was you had ignored him, and now you were walking right past him down the paddock, side by side with Lando as you talked about today’s race. Daniel turned his head and saw the two of you, drawing his own conclusions.

Whatever was going through his mind, one thing seemed certain. You didn’t need him anymore. You had the seat, the team, someone new supporting you, why would you still need Daniel?

You went about your day, the same pre-race rituals. Lando checked in more than normal, it was an exciting day for both of you, but he knew he was also a good distraction to keep your mind off of Daniel, he knew you would be struggling to keep from thinking about him.

“It’s you and me,” Lando told you right before the race. “It’s our day, yeah? We’ve got this.”

Lando was in your corner. You were in his.

Which meant you were there to celebrate after the race when he took home second place. You had claimed fourth, which was also something to be proud of, and you were, but you were also craving that podium. You could almost taste it, it was so close.

“Next time,” Lando assured you, having full confidence that you’d be holding the trophy at the following race. He handed you a bottle of champagne, telling you to drink up and enjoy and for once, you did.

You were happy. You finally felt like you could accomplish something amazing at McLaren, despite the horrible start. Lando had gotten a podium, yours was coming, you could feel it.

You didn’t think about Daniel at all that night. It was the first night in a long time where you didn’t see his face when you closed your eyes.

And you would have loved to keep celebrating after that night, to keep the high of Lando's podium and your 4th place finish last until the next race, but all good things must come to an end.

You stood in front of Lando now, unsure how to take the news about Daniels’ return. Were you allowed to be happy for him? Of course you wanted to see him in a seat, this was the ideal situation, both of you driving this season. What would this mean for the two of you moving forward?

But he had done the exact same thing you had done by replacing a driver before their contract was up.

Daniel made you feel awful about that decision and now here he was, making the exact same one. He was no better than you. He was no hero, he wasn’t the good guy. He was a driver, desperate for a seat, as were you. As was every single person wanting to race in this series.

You were on the same playing field now.

He was going to be at every single race for the rest of the season, as a competitor on the grid. Something you once dreamt of, both of you dreamt of, was finally coming true.

But that’s all he would be. A competitor. Another driver. Another car to overtake. You always thought that when this moment came, you’d still be a team when you left the track at the end of the day and that just wasn’t the reality you found yourself in.

“He’s back,” Lando said, hands shoved in his pockets trying to gauge your reaction.

Daniel was returning to Formula 1, but you knew he was never actually gone in the first place.

He was in your thoughts, your dreams, your memories, he was everywhere all of the time. Even when you crossed the finish line in Silverstone, there was still a part of you that was wondering if Daniel was watching. As much as you tried to avoid him, your eyes still scanned every single crowd for him.

And now you didn’t need to look anymore.

part 3 gone

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simplybakugou · 6 months ago

Note

Could you do another drink bakugo?

⋆ PAIRING: drunk/prohero!bakugou x fem!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: swearing; alcohol; all characters are adults ⋆ WORD COUNT: 3003

A/N: taking a break from mystic academia cause this has been sitting in my inbox for so long and i wanted to save it until i got some inspiration for another drunk!bakugou and i finally found the inspo hehe. also when i first started writing drunk!bakugou oneshots, i was 17 LMAO and now as a 23 y/o that has actually been drunk i can write this a little more accurately lol. also i was struggling trying to end this cause i didn’t want it to be longer than it already is (imo) lol so im sorry for the awkward ending. ty for requesting and i hope you enjoy!

It was a stupid idea. Why the hell would Bakugou go into a bar with the most loud and raucous people he knew even though he’d never drank a day in his life?

He couldn’t think of something he wanted to do less in that moment. He was exhausted, coming from a day of patrolling and hero work. Although his friends also came from their jobs, they actually drank alcohol and wanted to unwind after five years of constantly overworking themselves.

“Are you really not gonna get anything, Katsuki?” Sero questioned, giving the table’s drink orders to the bartender.

“I’m not fucking up my body just to look like an idiot like you dumbasses,” Bakugou huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair.

“Why’d you come then?” Kaminari quipped, interested in hearing Bakugou’s answer.

“Cause your dumbass wouldn’t stop bothering me about coming out tonight!” Bakugou replied angrily.

“Oh yeah!” Kaminari exclaimed, laughing at himself. “I forgot.”

“It’s good to come out with us once in a while,” Kirishima said, nodding his head. “You’ve been working yourself to the bone since we graduated, man. We haven’t seen you in years.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Don’t be fucking ridiculous. I’m not stopping until I’m number one. You shits can drink all you fucking want but I’m not gonna sit around every week just to catch up.”

Kaminari sighed, shaking his head. “This is why you’ve never had a girlfriend.” Sero nodded along with him.

“And what the fuck does that have to do with anything?” Bakugou snarled, slamming his fist against the table out of annoyance.

“You’re a workaholic, dude,” Sero stated matter-of-factly. “When are you gonna have the time to date? If you slowed down a little you could’ve at least gone out with Y/N back when you had a crush on her in U.A.”

“I did not have a crush on that shitty girl.” Bakugou felt himself getting even more angered just hearing your name uttered.

“You keep telling yourself that,” Kirishima said, patting his friend on the shoulder only to get shook off by Bakugou.

The drinks Sero ordered arrived and the rest of the guys cheered each other before downing their beverages. Bakugou sipped on his water he was forced to get after Sero berated him to order something.

The more alcohol his friends consumed, the more rowdy and even more raucous they got and Bakugou questioned even more why he decided to go out with them. It was karaoke night at the bar and Bakugou swore his ears were bleeding as Kaminari consistently kept attempting to serenade him.

Despite how chaotic it was in the bar that night, Bakugou eventually found himself enjoying it. Kaminari and Sero got the most drunk, getting up to dance and stumbling over one another, which made Bakugou and Kirishima burst into laughter. He would never tell them, but he needed this time out and away from the constant need to work towards his one and only goal.

The night was going great; until the door to the bar opened. Bakugou turned his head to the noise of the bell ringing above the door. It stuck out amongst the voices and loud nature of the room and he felt his face drop at the sight.

There you were, five years older than the last time he had seen you in person. And you weren’t alone as your arm was looped around the arm of another man.

Bakugou couldn’t help but stare at the sight. He drowned out the sounds of Kaminari, Sero, Kirishima, and a few strangers they had recruited at the bar playing drinking games as his focus was only on you. You scanned the area, waving shyly to a few people that recognized you as their favorite rising hero and sat in the corner of the room with your mystery man.

Kirishima glanced at Bakugou, recognizing that he was distracted by something else and looked towards what had caught his eye. He immediately understood the reason for the defeated look on his friend’s face.

“I’m sorry, man,” Kirishima stated simply.

“Sorry?” Bakugou scoffed. “For what? There’s nothing to be sorry about. We were never together.” The last part Bakugou muttered to himself as he finally tore his eyes away from you and down to his glass of water.

And it was true; you and Bakugou were never together back when you attended U.A. with him and the others. Matter of fact, you didn’t even know Bakugou liked you back then as he made it his mission that you never found out. Not only did he refuse to let himself be subjected to such vulnerable feelings like love and infatuation, you and your peers were constantly bombarded with hero work and dealing with the League of Villains to ever have the time for confessions. At the time, romantic relationships were trivial.

As things died down by the time class A graduated, Bakugou busied himself with his long-time goal of wanting to become the number one hero. He kept telling himself that it was time to grow up and forget about what he assumed to be a little crush but the more he kept shoving his feelings inside, the more intense they became.

That was why it felt like a punch to the gut to see you laughing with and leaning onto a man that wasn’t him.

“Hey, dunce face,” Bakugou grunted. Kaminari lifted his head and looked over at Bakugou with hazy eyes. “Get me the strongest drink here.”

“Dude, you really should slow down,” Kirishima urged, concerned as he watched Bakugou down shot after shot. “You’ve never drank before and this’ll probably mess you up fast.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Bakugou said in a rush, out of breath from the abundance of liquids he furiously ingested. He held the next shot glass to his lips, preparing himself to throw it back along with the countless shots he had already done; he felt like he was going to be sick, to no one’s surprise. Bakugou slammed the shot glass down onto the table, still full of alcohol, and he slammed his head onto the table as well. His head was throbbing but he felt like he could float in the air if he really tried.

Kirishima chuckled at his friend, taking advantage of the situation and taking the shot glass away from Bakugou.

Kaminari swung his arm around Bakugou’s shoulders. “See, dude, now we’re having fun!” The last word was elongated as he let out a small hiccup.

“Get the fuck off of me, dunce face,” Bakugou mumbled with his head still on the table, causing his words to be muffled. Nevertheless, Kaminari knew exactly what his grouchy friend had said but ignored him.

For the first time that night, Kaminari looked around the room and noticed you sitting alone now in the corner of the bar. He shot up, waving his hand out at you. “Y/N!”

Bakugou’s eyes, which were once closed shut as the alcohol was rushing to his head all at once, shot wide open as he whipped his head up. He felt dizzy from how quick the motion was. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Come on, man, she’s sitting over there all alone,” Kaminari reasoned, turning his attention back to you. You also had finally noticed your old classmates, smiling at the sight. “Hang out with us, Y/N!”

“Alone?” Bakugou questioned softly. He looked over at you and felt a wave of relief wash over him as he carefully watched you make your way to their table, mystery man out of the picture.

“I didn’t know you guys were here tonight,” you said with a smile. You sounded level-headed and Bakugou determined that you were probably the most sober person in the room that night.

“Yeah, we come here a lot after our patrol shifts,” Sero commented.

“All of you?” You questioned, interested as you scanned each of the guys sitting at the table. Finally you locked eyes with Bakugou and he swore your gaze could’ve pierced right through him. He broke eye contact first as he felt his face burning up even more with the effects of the alcohol.

“We usually have to beg Katsuki to come out. You know how he is,” Kirishima teased, wanting to lighten the mood for his friend. It didn’t work as Bakugou still had a sour expression on his face.

“Wanna get a few drinks with us?” Kaminari offered.

You shook your head. “No, it’s alright. Tonight hasn’t gone the way I wanted so I think I’m going to call it a night. It was nice seeing you guys.”

You waved goodbye to the boys, sending a small smile towards Bakugou as you understood he was in a bad mood but not understanding why. Your back was turned to them as you walked towards the exit and it was a miracle how you didn’t have two vermillion holes in your back the way Bakugou was staring at you leaving.

Bakugou stood up abruptly and he grabbed his coat and wallet. He sloppily pulled out a few bills and slammed them on the table as he made his way out as well.

“Where are you going?” Kirishima questioned.

“Don’t worry about it.”

You cursed at yourself for leaving your jacket in your date’s car as the winter snow began to litter the streets. Your body was shivering terribly. The bar had a few tables and chairs in front of the building and you sat yourself down as you contemplated how on Earth you were going to get home.

Before you could come up with a game plan, you felt a heavy leather jacket plop down onto your shoulders. You jumped at the sudden contact, watching as a clearly drunk-but-pretending-to-be-sober Bakugou sat himself in the chair across from you. “Bakugou! What’re you doing here?”

Bakugou ignored your question as he bluntly asked, “Where’s that fucker you came in with?”

You were taken aback by his questions. Only a few minutes ago did you realize that Bakugou, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero were there in the bar with you that night. If he had seen you with your date, that meant Bakugou had seen you when you walked in.

You sighed, leaning back in your chair and pulling Bakugou’s jacket closer to you as it kept you warm. “He was being… weird.”

“Weird how.” It was a question but you sensed the animosity in Bakugou’s tone as his expression harshened in a way that made his question a statement.

You waved your hands to calm him down. Why was he so upset? “Nothing bad, don’t worry. He’s just some guy I started dating. We weren’t official or anything but I liked him. He said he didn’t like me being a hero and said I should get a job that’d suit me in a feminine way.” You chuckled humorlessly as you recalled the misogynistic comment.

“What a fucking loser,” Bakugou grumbled, loud enough for you to hear and laugh at. He leaned back in his chair, resting his eyes. “You told him to fuck off, right?”

You nodded, amused as you always were back in U.A. with Bakugou’s colorful vocabulary. “Yup. He got pissed and left me here and I left my stuff in his car like an idiot.”

Bakugou opened his eyes and reached into his front pocket, cursing at himself as his fingers kept missing the opening seam. He pulled out his car keys and tossed them onto the table. You furrowed your eyes at the sight in confusion.

“Take my car to get home.”

You widened your eyes at his insane proposition, looking at the insignia on his keys as an expensive brand. “Bakugou, your car’s worth like a hundred million yen! There’s no way I can drive that!”

“Just do it, idiot,” Bakugou groaned, placing his forehead on the cold, snow-covered table. “Can’t let you just sit here in the cold.”

A moment passed as you were contemplating your choices only to realize in that time, Bakugou had fallen asleep. You chuckled softly, never expecting to see health-conscious Bakugou who’s always been adamant about never drinking inebriated.

You grabbed his keys and put them in the pocket of his leather jacket, slipping the jacket onto your arms. You knew you couldn’t just take his car and leave him here like this so you got up and went over to his side, gently shaking his shoulders to wake him. “Come on, big guy. We’re going home”

Bakugou let out a groan as you got him to his feet, your arm around his shoulders and you wrapped his arm around your waist to support him, resting your hand on his hand. You felt his body stiffen in reaction and you looked up at him curiously. His face was red again and you assumed it was a combination of the alcohol and the frigidness in the air. It most definitely was not either of those things.

“Where’d you park your car?” You asked as you slowly helped him walk.

He nodded in the direction ahead of you and you assumed he was referring to the parking lot that was thankfully right next to the bar. The two of you continued walking towards the lot and you found it unusual how quiet Bakugou was.

Once reaching the lot, you were originally going to search for Bakugou’s car only to not have to put any effort at all since his bright red sports car stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the Subarus and Toyotas.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Why am I not surprised by this at all, Bakugou.”

Bakugou flinched and he slowly pulled away from you, shoving his hands in his pockets as he wobbly made his way to his car. “Stop calling me that.”

“What? You don’t want me to call you Bakugou?” You question, confused. “Oh! I get it. You want me to call you by your hero name, right, Dynamight?”

“That’s not it either, idiot.”

“Oh, then, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight?”

“You’re so stupid.” Bakugou stopped right in front of his car and turned around, slowly so that he wouldn’t fall over. He had his signature frown on his face only this time it was out of frustration. “Back in U.A. you’d call me Katsuki.”

“Yeah, I guess I did,” you said, nodding your head as you recalled doing so. “But that was five years ago. I haven’t seen you since then and I just wanted to be polite.”

Bakugou kept quiet but his eyes never faltered or wavered as he kept them on you. You felt like he could burn right through you if he tried as you didn’t understand his frustrations. “Is everything okay, Ba– I mean, Katsuki.”

Bakugou’s eyes slightly widened for a moment and he felt like he was transported back to being a teenager. “No. Everything’s not okay ‘cause I still have this stupid crush on you that I’ve had since our first year in U.A.”

He let out a sigh, feeling a weight on his shoulders dissipate and he turned around back towards his car. You stood in place, shocked at the confession that you did not foresee at all. There was no way the Bakugou Katsuki had a crush on you, especially when you were just teenagers.

“Open the door.” Bakugou turned his head to you as he waited by the passenger door.

“Wait, wait, wait.” You waved your hands in front of you, still unable to wrap his words around your head. “This has to be a joke. There’s just no way– Why would you have a crush on me?”

Bakugou shrugged. “Dunno. Just happened.”

Your face felt hot and it wasn’t because of the weather. So much of your relationship with Bakugou made sense with this new realization. The reason for his cold shouldering you on numerous occasions or annoyed stares he’d give you when you got in a relationship in your second year all started to make sense. It was his way of conveying his feelings for you.

You shook your head, shaking the complex thoughts from your mind and snapping yourself back to reality as the cold air and Bakugou not having a jacket, since you were obviously wearing it, made you unlock his car with the key he gave you. You watched as Bakugou entered his car on the passenger side.

You knew you needed to give yourself a minute before you could enter the car beside him. How did you feel about him? You always thought he was handsome, when he wasn’t scowling at least, and you enjoyed seeing him mature every year in U.A. Even after graduation, you always watched the news fondly as you watched him evolve into an incredible hero, one that you knew was worthy of becoming number one.

So Bakugou Katsuki liked you. If your poor previous relationships taught you anything, it was to not turn down a good man when he was right in front of you. Or at least sitting in his sports car waiting for you to drive the two of you home since he was unexpectedly inebriated to do so himself.

Taking in a breath, you knew what you had to do; you wanted to see where this would go between the two of you. You opened the driver’s side door, sitting in your seat and collecting your thoughts briefly before turning to Bakugou to tell him exactly what was on your mind. You wanted to give it a shot.

And you were intent on doing just that until you turned to look at Bakugou only to see he was once again fast asleep, his chest rising and falling. You chuckled at the sight, taking in how adorable he was in that moment. Slipping his jacket off your body, you draped it over his body.

“Guess you’ll have to stay with me tonight.”

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wonustars · 1 year ago

Text

𝘚𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘰𝘭 ’𝘴 𝘓𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 (𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘳)

“𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴. 𝘪’𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶” - 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘦’𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘣𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘩

story inspirtation came from this poll pairing: c.sc x reader word count: estimated ~10k+ (this teaser: 983 words)

genre: friends to friends with benefits to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut (mdni)

summary: You and Seungcheol have been friends ever since you were kids. Growing up as neighbours, experiencing all the horrific adolescent moments in high school, and now going to the same University together. Even though you’ve denied it many times to your friends, part of you has always had feelings for him, not that you would ever say it out loud. He is the one person you can trust with anything and everything. So what happens when he propositions the idea of becoming friends with benefits? (the plot maybe change a little while i’m continuing to write but the overall theme will stay the same <;3)

tags: bestfriend!seungcheol, nonidol!au, university!au, female!reader, mutual pining, slow burn so painful you'll feel it in your toes, they are one year apart, SLIGHT like extremely miniscule wonwoo x reader (for the angst mwahahaha), seungcheol is a jealous jealous man, they're both idiots, jeonghan is a menace as always, seungcheol has a lot of pride, so does the reader, (i'll add more once its finished lol)

warnings/smut: this will be added on in the full post.

taglist: open! send an ask, dm, or comment to be tagged for when i post the full fic.

notes: long time no post everyone.... a LOT of people voted for an s.coups story on my poll so i'm here to deliver mwahahahaha...ALSO im so proud of the banner i made like udek i love how it looks hehhehe, i spent a good hour or so on it T-T ! i really have an urge to write a longer story, so idk when i'll be finished because it may take me a while to finish so sorry in advance. I just started writing and I was playing Mikee's Letters by Just Hush during it and so i thought id incorperate the song into the story, but barely lol (its a tagalog song so sorry if the translation is a lil rough my tagalog is not the most accurate). this story is SOOOOOO self indulgnet that it should be criminal lol BUT im really excited to write this and im really excited to share it with everyone,,, but first i actually got to finish it hehe. talk to u soon, mwah <3!

As long as you could remember you and Seungcheol have been attached to the hip. Even though he was a year older than you, you couldn’t remember the last time you spent a day without him. You’ve been in each others lives ever since then, starting all the way from the young, bright age of 5, when you and your family moved into the small, humble house across his. Although your parents weren’t very well off, Cheol was. It was an odd thing that you two were neighbours because his house was much more grand, and nicer kept than yours. This didn’t really bother you growing up though, he always made you feel like an equal.

Seungcheol has been with you through it all, the petty fights in middle school to the pains of adolescence in high school. He’s seen you at your worst, like the time you tripped and fell trying to impress a cute guy at school, which resulted in a nose bleed. You were so embarrassed but at the end of the day Cheol was there to help you clean your bloody nose and pick you back up. A true night and shining armor, which was practically his brand. He was the one to patch up your heart, breakup after breakup. Always your shoulder to lean on when you’re feeling down, and especially when you’re happy.

A man and bestfriend like Choi Seungcheol didn’t come around very often, and you took notice of that since you were young. You cherish every moment you have and will have with him. He is a true gentleman with a heart of gold. He’s handsome, smart, rich and caring. Every single box on your list is ticked off when it comes to him. Yet, you know that no matter how hard you love him, you will only ever be his bestfriend. The girl he sees as practically his younger sister. The bittersweet feeling of being so close to him tugs your heart till its torn. It took you a long time to accept that all you’ll ever be is his bestfriend, and even now, you’re still trying to accept this fact.

...

Seungcheol has always seen himself as your best friend. The man that will be there for you when you have no one else to turn to. He has never seen you as more than his best friend, his y/n. He is a man who never second-guesses himself, always keeping a strong-willed sense of mind. Every time one of his friends asked him if he had feelings for you, he would simply answer no; and that you were like a younger sister to him.

That first year was lonely for him, he didn’t really know anyone and all his classes kept him away from socializing. The only thing that seemed to have stayed constant was you. You face-timed him at least once a week before he went to bed, never forgetting to remind him how much you missed him, and how much you cared for him. In the simplest words, you were his rock for that first year.

Seungcheol was never warned about how lonely and jarring your first year could be. The change in place, people, and most importantly the change in the fact that you weren’t there experiencing it beside him. He was never one to believe clichè sayings, but he finally understood what the saying “distance makes the heart grow fonder” really felt like. He had gotten so overwhelmed from the loneliness he even began to write you letters, ones he would never actually send out, as cheesy as it sounds. But knowing that he was addressing them to you brought him some type of solace in that first year.

A year later you came to study at the same university, and he was elated, to say the least. Finally, he had thought to himself. The one person he hadn’t been able to see, smell, or touch for a year was finally going to be in his proximity.

Unlike Cheol, you were only able to go to this school through bursaries and scholarships, your parents simply just couldn’t afford to send you to school in a different city otherwise. It reminded you how lucky Seungcheol was to receive support from his parents, getting and going to school was nothing he had to ever think twice about. You knew you could’ve stayed with your family, and gone to school closer to your house, but with Cheol away, it just wasn’t the same. Nothing had felt the same since he left. But this didn’t matter to you the moment you felt his arms wrap around you again.

You stood there in the airport all alone, eyes searching for a head of freshly dyed blond hair. The moment you heard his voice call your name, you knew you were finally home.

“Y/n!” An excited, deep voice calls out for you.

You whip your head around to see him. The man you hadn’t seen in so long, the man you were so desperately in love with. Your best friend.

“Cheol!” A squeal escapes your lips, you run to him. He pulls you into a tight hug, wrapping his large hands around your smaller frame. Swinging you around like crazy, a laugh bubbles up from your throat.

“I’ve missed you so much y/n.” Cheol exasperates as he hugs you tighter, leaving a kiss on the top of your head.

“I’ve missed you too Cheol…” You whisper into his chest, breathing in his expensive cologne, not caring that you are in public; staying there to embrace him for a weirdly long period of time. “Never leave for that long again.”

#seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #scoups #seungcheol #choi seungcheol #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seungcheol fluff #scoups fluff #scoups angst #seungcheol angst #seventeen angst #wonustars ✧ ﾟ. {works}#wonustars ✧.* {fics: seungcheol’s letters}

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midnightsnyx · 11 months ago

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girl at home | mat barzal | part 6

pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader chapter summary: a new face threatens what you've started to build with mat and nora & you recieve some much needed advice from jax

warnings: angst, not edited, mentions of food, a sprinkle of fluff word count: 1.7k (sry its not longer i am trying my best lol) authors note: hi so it's been a month and change but i am finally able to present to you guys, part 6!! thank you for the continuous love on this story. your likes, reblogs & comments mean the WORLD to me!!! someone said nora needs to start a parent trap - don't worry, she's on it <3 quick important notes: the first bit in italics is a flashback. not sure if I will do many more of them. second, i have no idea how many more parts there will be to this series because i feel like i've barely scratched the surface of what can be done. and last, im sorry if your name is calista. enjoy and please don't hate me :)

requests are open. masterpost masterlist tag form askbox

It wasn’t often that you and Mat had time to yourselves. He was busy with school and hockey, and you had a lot going on so when the opportunity arose, you always made time for each other. Liana was at a sleepover and his parents were gone out for dinner with friends so the two of you had the house to yourselves for a few hours, which as teenagers, wasn’t often. His parents were always good about giving you and Mat space but you were still teenagers, after all.

You were curled up together on his bed with some random movie playing in the background but you weren’t paying attention to it. You were thinking about graduation that was fast approaching and what the aftermath would look like. It wasn’t a surprise that the two of you would be going separate ways once you graduated high school. Although not set in stone, Mat was on his way to the National Hockey League to an unknown team. It wasn’t realistic for you to wait to see where he would end up and then figure something out for school. You had scholarships and your heart set on UBC, not quite yet ready to move too far from home.

But Mat, well he could go anywhere.

You’d toyed the idea of a long distance relationship in your head but you always ended up realizing that it wasn’t logical. Mat would probably be playing on a team thousands of miles away and you were going to be busy with university. Sure, there were holidays and summers but going from being basically attached at the hip to hardly seeing each other.

“What’re you thinking ‘bout?” Mat suddenly mumbled. His hand had been rubbing your back but when it stopped, you thought he had fallen asleep.

“Graduation,” you said and his body stiffened. The difference between the two of you was that you were an overthinker and a planner whereas Mat was a go with the flow type of person. He didn’t think about things until he had to.

When he didn’t say anything, you peered up at him. He was frowning, staring at the ceiling in deep thought. You reached out to smoothen the wrinkle between his eyes and he looked down at you and smiled.

“If I was selfish enough to ask you to come with me wherever I end up, would you say yes?”

It was a theoretical question because you knew he would never be that selfish. Neither were you though, because you would never ask him to give up his dream.

“No,” you admitted and his smile didn’t waver but something flickered in his eyes.

***

As a general rule of thumb, you don’t introduce Nora to anyone you date until the three month mark. It isn’t something that you have to worry about often because most of the guys you meet run the second they find out you have a daughter. It doesn’t bother you most of the time; you have your family and friends, and Nora is your number one priority so if someone has a problem with you having a kid, they aren’t worth your time.

So, it didn’t occur to you that it was a conversation you should have had with Mat. You thought that he had enough common sense not to bring the girl you recently learned that he’s casually seeing, to lunch with you and Nora.

It takes all of your willpower to stay in your seat and not take Nora and leave when they sit across from you. Mat seems completely unfazed by the sudden tension in the room and it hurts on some level because he used to know you so well that if something was upsetting you, he always knew.

But that was when you were kids.

You don’t get a chance to say anything because Nora gives the girl a onceover, and wrinkles her nose.

“Who’s that?” She asks in such a bitter tone that you’re torn between scolding her or laughing.

The girl, to her credit, doesn’t even blink an eye. She just offers her hand to Nora and introduces herself.

“I’m Calista, and you must be Nora,” she says, still holding her hand out and waiting for your daughter to shake it. When she realizes that Nora is not going to respond, she quickly brings her hand back and lays them in her lap. Mat looks absolutely horrified, either by Nora’s behavior or the fact that you haven’t scolded her. He’s still not sure if he’s allowed to reprimand her when she acts out and often looks to you to be the bad guy. You’re enjoying this a little too much though, especially when he coughs and gestures to you.

“Cal, this is-”

“His baby mama,” you cut him off, smiling sweetly at her. He’s not getting off the hook for ambushing you, and sure, maybe it’s a little childish of you but you have heard the stories from Liana already and you know you won’t like this girl.

“Um, nice to meet you,” she says awkwardly, but there’s something in her eyes that tells you she isn’t the innocent, sweet, new girlfriend of Mathew Barzal. There’s definitely a different personality hiding behind the curtain.

“Have you guys ordered already?” Mat asks.

“No, we were waiting on you,” is your reply and you make sure to emphasize on the word you. He doesn’t humor you with a response, instead looking at the menu and asking Calista what she wants.

Lunch goes about as terrible as you expected, with Nora acting out because of a new person suddenly joining the outings she was used to only being the three of you. She ignores Mat’s attempts at talking to her, opting to read a book she brought along and gives Calista the stink eye anytime she speaks. You’re fine with her wanting to ignore Calista, but you don’t want her relationship with Mat to suffer because of this, so towards the end of lunch, you excuse yourself to the washroom in hopes that she might talk to Mat if you step away.

The only problem is that Calista decides to tag along with you, claiming she needs to wash her hands. You suspect there will be something more and your suspicions are proved true when you’re washing your hands and she walks up next to you.

“The whole kid-trap thing is really cute,” she says, fixing her hair. “Just keep in mind that it’s me in his bed every night.”

She doesn’t give you a chance to say anything before she quickly walks out of the restroom. You stand in shock for a moment, because you haven’t had a girl talk to you like that since high school. Liana wasn’t wrong when she told you there was something off about the new girl Mat was seeing, but this teenage-like attitude? This isn’t something that Nora is going to be around.

You storm out of the restroom, planning on taking Nora and leaving right away but you stop short when you see Mat and Nora talking. She’s giggling about something he must have said and the fondness and love in his eyes towards her is almost enough to make you stay but one look at Calista, reminds you why you were leaving in the first place. So, you walk over to the table, picking up Nora from her chair even though she’s capable of walking herself and tossing a twenty on the table. You don’t look at Mat before you leave, only calling out a goodbye over your shoulder.

Nora doesn’t say anything until you’re buckling her seatbelt.

“I didn’t like her,” she says casually.

“Yeah,” you agree. “Me neither.”

***

Mat blows up your phone with calls and texts but you ignore them. As soon as you left the restaurant, you planned on driving straight home and you knew that was where Mat would look first so instead you drove around aimlessly until you ended up in Jax’s driveway. Nora fell asleep about twenty minutes ago and you didn’t want to wake her, so you sent him a text to come out to your car. You watch as Jax comes out of his house and runs down the driveway in bare feet, climbing in your car and closing the door quietly.

“It went that bad, huh?”

You’re quiet for a moment before leaning forward and resting your head on the steering wheel and taking a deep breath.

“I feel like Mat and I are stuck in this constant cycle, you know?” you mutter quietly.. “Like, two steps forward and then five back. Everytime I think we’re making progress, something happens and I can’t help but wonder if I should have let him in her life at all. I’ve been a mom for 6 years, and Mat has only been a parent for a few weeks so the rational part of me knows I can’t be too hard on him, but I feel like we’re not making any progress and this is just going to end up bad, especially for Nora.”

Jax knows you well, and doesn’t say anything right away. He lets you say and feel your own thoughts out loud before giving his opinion.

“Want me to sugarcoat anything?” he asks and you lift your head to look at him. Jax is looking at you with slight concern so you know he’s about to give you his exact thoughts.

You shake your head and he sighs.

“I think you still have feelings for Mat,” he says and when you open your mouth to cut him off, he stops you. “I’m not saying that you’re still in love with him, but you have something going on in your head that is creating chaos with the relationship you have with him now. You said he’s doing well with Nora, yeah?”

You nod, but don’t say anything.

“If he’s doing well with Nora, you shouldn’t be having these doubts about if you should have let him in her life. You’re her mom, you know what’s best and if you really felt like it wasn’t working, you would have stopped it right away. You are the problem, whatever lingering feelings you are holding inside, you’ve got to figure them out.”

For a split second, you hate Jax. For a split second, you want to yell and scream and swear at him because he’s right.

“He has a girlfriend,” you whisper.

“Yeah,” Jax says. “Why are you upset about it?”

You shrug. “I don’t know.”

He doesn’t say anything until you look at him.

“I think you do,” he replies.

You hate that he’s right.

tag list: @literatureluster @dasiysthings @barzyblogbabe @diary-of-jj @heatherawoowoo @fallinallincurls @topguncultleader @shadowsndaisies @lovinbarzal @whatthepuckisgoingon @alilstressyandlotdepressy @teapartydreams @keiva1000 @hischiershoe @cavill83 @bellstwd @alwaysclassyeagle

if you'd like to be added or taken off the list please let me know <3 also if you asked to be tagged and wasn't, it was because when i typed in your user, it didn't come up. send me a msg & we can figure it out.

#hockey imagines #allies writing #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal x you #mat barzal x y/n

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wikiangela · 8 months ago

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tease tidbit tuesday

tagged by @bidisasterbuckdiaz 💖

me impatiently waiting for tuesday to share a snippet bc im obsessed with bucktommy rn and after some editing im loving everything i've written in this fic so far and wanna share every word of it asap lmao

here's a bit more, and yes they are talking about the evan thing bc at first it bothered me so much, but it grew on me (with fics and some takes on it i saw and just the more i saw it and thought about it) and now im kinda loving it lol

prev snippet

___

“If you wanted me out of my shirt, you should’ve just said so.” he murmurs.

“I want you out of your shirt.” Buck says without hesitation, and Tommy releases a breathless, surprised laugh.

“Suddenly so forward.” he shakes his head, capturing Buck’s lips again. Well, Buck has been kind of shy and flustered with Tommy, but that’s not always how he is, not how he used to be.

“Oh, you have no idea.” Buck grins, and then, still a little hesitantly, places his palm over Tommy’s thigh where it rests over Buck’s knee. Tommy looks at him curiously, and Buck’s grin widens as he pulls his leg up and over his lap, getting Tommy to properly straddle him now, his shirt falling over his back again, as he releases a surprised gasp. “Now that’s better.” he adds, getting used to the unfamiliar weight, Tommy being bigger and heavier than Buck’s used to with his previous partners, obviously, but it- it feels good, right, almost comforting, Tommy’s steady and firm presence surrounding him now. Plus, it is kinda hot, too.

“Evan.” Tommy just says breathlessly, and Buck’s smile softens, one of his hands moving to the side of Tommy’s neck, just resting there.

“You know you’re one of the very few people who call me that?” he whispers, the mood shifting a bit from hot and impatient to soft and warm, and pleasant, and Buck really feels so comfortable with Tommy.

“Yeah, I noticed.” Tommy replies, settling more comfortably, wrapping his arms around Buck’s neck loosely, but his hands play with Buck’s hair lightly. He sits far enough on Buck’s lap that their crotches don’t touch, and Buck’s not sure if he’s happy about that. “Does it bother you?” he asks with a hint of worry.

“No, no, of course not.” Buck rushes to say. If it did, he’d say something. No, it doesn’t bother him. The opposite, in fact. “I actually-” he can’t help a small awed smile. “I think I like it.”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” Tommy tilts his head curiously, and he’s so cute, and Buck needs to kiss him. So he does. Because he can. And he can’t stop smiling.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @neverevan @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @exhuastedpigeon @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @theotherbuckley @buddieswhvre @dangerpronebuddie @diazsdimples @daffi-990 @fortheloveofbuddie @hoodie-buck @tizniz @your-catfish-friend @hippolotamus

#tease tidbit tuesday #i keep rewatching the kiss and giggling and kicking my feet and omg what is happening lmao #i just need to write this and get it out of my system and then i'll be back to buddie i promise lmao #also the amount of times i typed eddie instead of tommy lmao my subconsciousness knows where my heart truly lies 🤣🤣#i wanna finish it before 7x05 tho so wish me luck lol #this is (so far) 3.6k of them just making out and talking lol #ngl it started as after their first date but now i'm wondering if i should change that or smth #but also who cares haha #fic snippet #wikiangela writes #my writing #my wips #911 fic #911 abc #bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #bucktommy post-date fic

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omgwhatchloe · 2 months ago

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why is the top post on my fav boys tag ai trash…

sean macguire modern headcanons to change that!!

-very firmly lives in the mansion with the rest of the gang and would never want to move out (like the marstons) because he doesnt want to pay bills

-took time and effort into decorating his room and even got lenny to decorate it too since he basically moved in. its filled with random ornaments, posters, cheap things from amazon and a huge irish flag over his bed. even if he didn’t resonate with the things in his room much, he would NOT have it looking bare.

-the worst for being on his phone constantly but wont respond to anyone but lenny or his da, not that anyone else is too keen to message him. his camera roll is also a mess off accidental screenshots and bad pictures of things he hasnt needed to look at in months. OCCASIONALLY theyll be a sweet picture of jack or lenny, but theyre buried so deep in his brain rot camera he forgets about them until a birthday or something.

-darragh always facetimes him at seans convience, so staying up late to speak to him. funnily enough, darragh knows tech more than sean.

“right, iv to go now da! where-how-”

“okay, sean…the red button. just click the screen-”

“i AM-" “and a red button-” “its this shite phone-" “ill just cut off…”

-buys cheap shit online as random presents for other people. lenny for some reason has a glowing turtle keychain…he doesnt have keys. abigail is plagued with random stuff he bought jack that the kid hasn’t bothered with in ages because he only cares about his ipad.

-is unfortunately subjected to being sent ‘relatable irish memes’ by many of the other members who just assume he relates and dont think twice. john sent him one of a “classic irish mammy” tiktok trying to be nice and it went like this

john: [video] lol i bet u went through this😂

sean: no cuz i dont have a ma john

there is also

mary-beth: [meme about growing up protestant in north of ireland/northern ireland that she didnt read hard enough]

sean: ?

mary-beth: Isn’t that how you grew up?

sean: im catholic and from the republic

mary-beth: ???

-related to the online shit one, he is a food hoarder. he is always ordering food from random sweet companys or just over spending in walmart then keeping it all in his room and barely eating any of it. it disappears because lenny steals it and eventually it gets left somewhere then put in the kitchen.

-he, along with bill, arthur and karen, is banned from a random bar and no one, not even those involved, has the slightest idea why. they just assumed it had something to do with a night out they can all barely remember and left it as that. sometimes he does wonder why it was just them four who got banned.

-has not got a drivers license, isnt planning on getting one, and drives the most in the gang because darragh taught him as a necessary life skill. has the least crashes but drives the fastest and most reckless. he is genuinely proud of how well he can drive.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption two #red dead fandom #sean macguire #sean rdr2 #rdr2 modern au #rdr2 headcanons

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gunnrblze · 1 month ago

Note

Mischaracterizations are prevalent in fandoms. I'm curious, which ones of the CoD:Ghosts franchise bug you the most, and make you want to pull out your hair once you see them in fics/other materials?

This question created several additional thoughts, so I’m putting all my yapping below the cut lmfao.

Tbh it doesn’t bother me a whole lot except when it’s a large part of said character, or one of their only canon descriptions/facts/etc. I think it’s great for ppl to create what they want, esp when a lot of the ghosts have little/no info so we quite literally have to make shit up and fill in the likely blanks, but if you’re straying so far from who a character is…😟

Like, Keegan is described and shown throughout the game as being a very quiet man…so it does make me side eye when people portray him as this talkative guy, or someone with a really big personality lol cause that’s just not the vibe. That’s why I rb’d that thing, because I was thinking about how he’s the most popular ghost by far, and I think a lot of those fans aren’t necessarily into the rest of the ghosts game (and they don’t have to be, just an observation). I think that’s why so much of the content made about him outside of the actual ghosts fandom seems out of left field, bc people just kinda take a hot character and do whatever with him (which again, is fine, free will in fandom is good and necessary). I also think that’s why so many people get him confused as being part of other CoD games, because they aren’t aware of where his character even comes from in the first place.

Now this may be a bit of an unpopular opinion bc I know a lot of ppl hate some of the smut aspect that’s written about these characters, because they include themes that are/seem ooc, but I’m gonna be honest…that part doesn’t bother me so much because at the end of the day, people just want to put their fantasies and ideas onto hot masked man…and I get it lmao. Not to say im necessarily gonna read it, esp stuff with hard kink type shit, but it’s more so bothersome when people mischaracterize them because they don’t pay attention to the actual canon character in other fics/materials.

That’s why I kinda separate smut fic from everything else a bit, because a lot of smut I’ve noticed, especially with Keegan specifically, is written ooc, because making it canon/character correct isn’t the point, the sexy time shit is. Now I still prefer reading smut that seems largely in character lol, but I do have to defend the larger idea here that it’s not a crime to write an ooc smut fic because half the time…the smut is the main focus, not the canon/implied personality of the character.

I completely understand the shock of seeing certain smut in the first place (talking about the more fucked up shit here…), especially when it’s then placed on a character you know and love, but it honestly doesn’t bother me that much-and maybe it’s because I’ve been on the internet for too long💀- but that’s kinda the point of fandom I think…doing whatever pleases you, having an outlet. That’s the type of smut I think is very obviously written with the idea in mind, and not necessarily ‘would the character do/behave like this?’. Because yea, these ghost boys would most likely not do all these fucked up things, but I think people still deserve the freedom to write it, and they’re going to anyways lmfao (IF you’re tagging disturbing content correctly, you owe people that much!)

I’ve been having those thoughts for a while now so I had to yap them out of my head lol, but to answer the actual question, aside from Keegan, I hateeee seeing the Walker fam mischaracterized. I think because (it seems) they have more info available on them compared to the other ghosts, so when I see people just giving their personalities a 180 I’m like…Hesh would NOT act like that😩. Especially with Elias because he’s my husband obviously…so people missing larger parts of his character or stuff that’s implied about him makes my eye twitch a little lol.

Also, I don’t typically see a whole lot of ooc stuff for the ghosts in the first place tbh (minus Keegan, bc he has reached the CoD masses of course). Because we’re a smaller fandom, and I think people tend to stay in character more in smaller fandoms (at least from what I’ve seen) because there’s so little content available on characters, and it’s like we’re all clinging to what we DO know about them lmfao.

Thanks for attending my ted talk 💋

#this turned into more than I intended lol #thanks for asking anon cause I love the question though #call of duty ghosts #cod ghosts #gunnrblze rambles

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divorcedwife · 2 months ago

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i love your chess art so much! no idea if you’ve answered this question before but do you mind sharing how you got into the game? i think it’s always really nice to hear about players’ background stories (probably since it’s such an old game and the knowledge is passed down from generation to generation)

oh thank you!! <33 i don't think i've ever talked about this, no - and even then, i really appreciate questions so i wouldn't mind answering again :-)

i think how i got into chess is kinda funny. i love memento mori art and i love the image of playing chess with death to save yourself. i wanted to use something like this in a drawing, and drew a knight with a chessboard plate armor, and i wanted to have a checkmate on there, so people who can play chess would get that. death won

but since i didn't know how to play chess, i tried to search for an example of one, and unfortunately the one i picked looked a bit silly! it was a weird set up - like there were not many pieces, a bunch of knights and almost nothing else, something like that. didn't really look like a real game anyone would play. people pointed it out in the tags and gently poked fun at my weird checkmate. and i was mortified... truly no bigger shame for me than looking ignorant in front of everyone. i thought the only way to regain my honor was to make sure this never happened again, so i had to learn. and im glad i did! once i figured out how to actually checkmate someone, i started having so much fun. i love playing very aggressive and harassing the king from the start. i don't always win but i like to bother my opponent to the max

and any time there's a chessboard in my art, i actually open my chess app to play a little game and use that to set the game in a way that looks natural. it's the kind of little detail that doesn't matter all that much and means nothing to most people, but i just love getting those tiny details right lol. for my fellow pedants out there

#anon #answered #there's a lot more i could say about chess & art but it would be so long......

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fairysluna · 2 years ago

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aegon angst please im begging on my knees OLEASE OLEASE

this is perfect bc I've been planning on writing an angsty drabble based on this song for so long and i finally got the excuse lol. hope you like it!!🤍

Songfic #6

is it insensitive for me to say get your shit together? So I can love you.

PAIRING – Modern!Aegon II Targaryen x Reader.

TAGS – angst, hurt no comfort, alcohol consumption, cursing, mentions of cheating, established relationship, mentions of family issues. if something is missing let me know!!

You saw the clock hanging from the wall, biting your nails and sighing with despair. The feeling in your gut was giving you bad news, and the voice inside your head was trying to convince you to call him one more time with the fanciful idea of him picking up feeding your need to do it. You felt a hole in your belly where your stomach was supposed to be, and your body seemed to be unable to remain still in one place.

4 am, and the last time you heard about Aegon was when he left the apartment and told you he would come back before midnight, for tomorrow he had a very important job interview early in the morning. Needless to say, he did not keep his word, and when the clock indicated that it was the middle of the night, you found yourself alone in the darkness of the living room, at the verge of tears produced by the worry and anger. Your cellphone remained quiet, no phone calls from him arrived. That only made you angrier, for he did not even think about letting you know whether he was alright or not; he did not even think how you had a sleepless night filled with pure distress due to the unavoidable concern. You called him at least twenty times during the night, and none of your calls were answered; you had already memorized his voice mail recording by heart.

When the main door opened, your lost eyes found their way to the frame of it, and the first thing you saw was your boyfriend stumbling inside the living room; a green shirt ripped in the neck, leftovers of red lipstick on his neck, chin and cheeks, and sleepy eyes. You were already used to seeing that aspect on him, though you had naively believed that it would stop. But it never stopped.

“Hello there, beauty,” he greeted you. He dragged his words as if his tongue was as heavy as a rock, holding his body against the door handle.

You pressed your lips in a thin line, you had the intention to scream at him, to yell at his face how much you hated him for doing this to you once again; but nothing would come out, your words would be stuck in the back of your throat, your mind too blurry with disappointment to even think in what to say; so you just stood up, grabbed your phone and left towards the room without uttering a sound. You heard how Aegon closed the door, and how he dragged his feet behind you as he followed you, but you did not even bother to turn around.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, and your heart fell to your stomach as you stopped walking. Once you finally had the courage to turn around to face you looked at him with disdain, as if he was mocking you without shame by asking something so stupidly obvious that it was insulting.

“It’s 4 am,” you spat, already breathing heavily. “It’s 4 am and you just got home… it’s Tuesday!”

“Oh, Gods, I’m sorry, love…” he muttered, trying to step closer to you but you stepped back, rejecting his touch. “Arryk just got a new job so we went to a bar downtown and celebrated for him.”

“And did you forget that later today you have a job interview?” You reminded him, fuming already with rage burning through your eyes. You were barely able to keep it together, your nose already itching as you saw Aegon widening in surprise by your words. He had forgotten, he always did. “I can’t fucking believe it.”

“Love, listen-” his hand tried to reach for you once again but you slapped it away from you.

“No, this is enough, I won’t listen to your pathetic excuses anymore,” you shook your head and your eyes became watery once you noticed the marks of lipstick on his skin. “I’m so tired of being the only one trying to keep us afloat.”

“That’s a lie…” He accused you, narrowing his eyes.

“Is it?” You chuckled incredulously, “I’m the one paying the bills, working my ass off so you don’t feel pressure to find a stupid job, but all you do is drink and live as if you were still a fucking teenager!” You raised your voice, making him shrink in his position. He took a step back, looking at you teary eyed. That would always be enough for you to soften to him, but not this time. “You’ve told me multiple times how your grandfather would yell at you to do your shit so I tried to be empathic with you and give you time, but I just-”

A sob interrupted your words, making you choke in your own sorrow as you covered your mouth and quickly looked away from him. You closed your eyes for an instant and you slightly shook your head, feeling your heart being torn apart by the impact of reality against what used to be a fairytale. A shake breath came from your lips as you wiped your tears away and looked back at Aegon, who was standing as if he was a scolded child waiting to receive his punishment.

Those lilac eyes of him made you remember the beginning of your relationship, before you truly figured Aegon out. The first stages of a relationship were always perfect, relaying on the rush of adrenaline and excitement that a new feeling would provide; but now that it’s been four years, all that magic had vanished… sadly, the love and devotion you had for him was still making your heart beat, which is why it was so hard for you to pronounce the following words,

“I can’t allow myself to love you anymore,” you struggled to say, the sobs that threatened to escape you were making you choke and gulp. “Why can’t you get your shit together? Why can’t you grow up and act like a fucking adult?”

“You know it’s hard for me,” he excused himself, but you sighed.

“And you think it isn’t hard for me too? I stay awake every night you go out, scared to death. I have two jobs so we can keep this fucking apartment so you don’t go back and live with your parents. Because that’s how much I care about you.”

“And I love you for that.”

“Then fucking prove it to me!” You gave an exasperated yell, “Prove me that you love me! Because lately I feel like you’re saying all these things just because you’re used to them.”

“How?” He asked, “what do you want me to do?”

And there it is, the disappointment crossing your face once again. You could speak to him, scream and yell a bunch of words, but he would never listen. He would always disguise his lack of attention with questions like this, even when you had been screaming the answer to it ever since he stepped into the apartment.

You did not respond to him; you just shook your head as you made your way to your bag. You grabbed your keys, your phone and your wallet. Aegon frowned after looking at that action, and he tried to follow you around but his feet felt so heavy that he only stumbled in his place.

“Where are you going?” He demanded an answer, “what are you doing?”

Once again, silence was the answer to his question and his eyes filled with tears followed your frame until you stopped in the middle of the door frame of the room.

“My love…” he whispered, already feeling himself being sobered up by the anguish he started to feel inside his chest. “Please, don’t. Not you too.”

“You’re losing me, Aegon,” you muttered, loud enough for him to see. “Be aware of that.”

Once you closed the door behind your back, Aegon broke into silent sobs and cries. He had underestimated your limits, stupidly believing that you would always be by his side. Now that he found himself alone in a room filled with memories, the only thing he was able to do was to regret.

GENERAL TAG LIST — @borikenlove @aemondsversion @jvpit3rs @watercolorskyy @kravitzwhore @valeskafics @clairacassidy @aemondx @randomdragonfires @gothtargaryen @melsunshine @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jamespotterismydaddy

AEGON TAG LIST — @lovelykhaleesiii @ganymede-princess @xfancyuu @megatardisbaby

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aritamargarita · 1 year ago

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Hey bestie, it’s been a while!! I hope your well💗 I saw requests were open and this idea came to me after watching some old segments. Could you do a love triangle between reader, trish stratus, and Jeff Hardy?☺️

hey bestieee im doing well!!! it's been a while indeed :). hope you're doing well too! so sorry this took a while! BUT THIS REQUEST...i can't explain how good this sounds LMAO I WAS LIKE “AHHHH—“...i may have gotten a little out of hand with the sadness on this one? i also kinda based it off this chart , with jeff as A, reader as B, trish as C. reader’s feelings for trish are conflicting and she kinda doesn’t think they’re real, therefore this is very jeff centered. and also kayfabe compliant lol

you guys can have an imagine..as a treat :3 alexa, pls set the tone for us *lights dim dramatically*

YOU FELT SUFFOCATED whenever they were around. You hate Jeff. You hate Trish. You hate both of them. You hate how close they are and you wish they could never see each other again....but sometimes wishes can’t be granted.

"Trish Stratus..she's just horrible, isn't she?"

Victoria’s voice comes from behind you. She sets a neatly manicured hand onto your right shoulder and leans into your ear. “I mean, just look at them.”

You didn’t want to look and she realizes this. Her hand reaches over to grab your face to forcefully turn it in their direction.

They’re standing there, holding hands and talking to each other with the biggest smiles in the world.

“Doesn’t it just make you sick? They’re rubbing it in your face, [Name].” Victoria says. “If I were you, I’d take that pretty little face….and smash it right against the mat.”

You sigh.

Her words were clearly fueled by hate. This wasn’t advice, this was just because she hated Trish. You don’t think you’ll ever get the reason as to why. Even when you accidentally walked in on one of her meltdowns and she babbled to you about how horrible she was, you were still at a loss.

“Just because you have a vendetta against her doesn’t mean that I do. She’s my—“

“We can see it in your eyes!” Stevie Richards appears from out nowhere, startling you. You’re trying to do your makeup, goddamn it. Why’d they have to come and bother you?

You whip your head around to your right. Stevie’s staring at you with nothing but a grin. He sets his hand on your left shoulder and shakes it lightly.

“C’mon. Everyone, and I mean everyone, knows you have a thing for that Hardy guy! Flower is right. I’m sure they make you sick!

Tch. Yeah, right. The only thing that everyone knows is that him and Trish were madly in love all of a sudden. And now that you think about it, the only thing that makes you sick was Stevie always calling Victoria that cheesy nickname.

“Hardy boy,” You correct. “And I don’t have a thing for him.”

You can see the reflection of the other two in the mirror. They’re not very convinced.

It’s not a thing. It never was a thing, you just think Jeff is pretty neat.

To put it in perspective, Jeff Hardy is someone you can rely on. Jeff Hardy is someone you can consider a hero. You really just think he’s neat for saving your neck a few times when it came to people ganging up on you.

And somehow, you feel like you owe him something in return. Him being with Trish only stalled your returning favor even further.

It’s driving you crazy. You haven’t talked to Jeff in days. All you do is avoid him. In other words, you’ve quit him, gone cold turkey.

Those two were getting closer and closer day by day and you just didn’t understand why.

Trish was your friend, best friend, and hadn’t even told you what was going on. The moment you heard the she kissed him right in the middle of the ring had made you really confused, to say the least.

Somehow, you felt yourself harboring some feelings for her as well. It was strange. You don’t really know why, but when Trish had started to tag with you, save you, (stating that she didn't want to see her friend in trouble), and hung around with you backstage, you started to think about her more often.

Things are difficult with her around. Things are difficult with the both of them around.

It’s the reason why you stopped talking to him and limited your interactions with her. This was for your own sanity, even if it wasn’t working out so well.

It truly is hard to believe you could find yourself in this situation.

Lita would constantly tell you how much Jeff missed you. For someone who was supposed to be “resting“and “healing up” because of her injury, she sure was hanging out backstage a lot more lately.

What makes matters worse is that her and Trish were best friends as well, so you’d occasionally hear her pass along messages. Ugh, you really wish she would stop telling you these things. It only makes you feel worse.

“I think you’re lying, [Name].” Victoria outright says. “You like him, no, love him. And seeing that plastic, fake, no good…” She has to stop herself from getting too wound up, taking a breath. “Seeing her makes you angry, doesn’t it?”

She’s right. You hate that she’s right. It does make you angry, but it makes you more sad than anything. You won’t admit it. You refuse.

“What makes me angry is the both of you trying to wind me up.” You throw your lip gloss to the ground. “Let me clarify. I do not and never will have a thing for Jeff Hardy!”

Perhaps your voice was louder than anticipated because suddenly, the hallway had gotten quiet. You had attracted unwanted attention, including looks from Trish and Jeff.

You take a deep breath. Victoria didn’t even know the whole story, so there’s no reason for you to act like this. As long as she hasn’t caught on about your thoughts about Trish, everything is fine and dandy.

Victoria only lets out a cackle, as does Stevie. They just couldn’t help it! The look on your face was just hilarious and you couldn’t have been anymore obvious with your true intentions about him.

Though you want to ask them what the hell was so funny, you realize there’s nothing you can do to save face, so you just storm off. You don’t think you can ever show your face backstage again after that.

The sound of footsteps behind you cause you to stop. “If the both of you are following me, I swear to god, I’ll—“

“It’s neither.” It’s Trish, all dressed up in her red ring gear. Her and Jeff were both dressed up, actually. “Were they bothering you? I can deal with them if you need.”

You wave your hand. “No, it’s no big deal.” In response, she gives you a smile, one that genuinely makes you feel sick.

There’s suddenly a strange tension in the room as Trish lifts up her hand to bite on her index fingernail. There are little details that you feel like you hadn’t noticed about her before in that moment, irrelevant as it was.

The way she curled her hair was different. Maybe it was the amount of lipgloss she applied, which seemed significantly noticeable.

The look on her face gives you the impression she’s not nervous at all, if anything, she seems a bit gleeful. “…So,” You feel like you already know what’s coming as she speaks up. “…I didn’t know you had a thing for Jeff…?”

There’s a teasing tone behind her voice, which makes you just want to quite literally leave the country and change your name. Dramatic, yes, but you feel like this is too much.

“Jeff is,” You have to pause for a minute, trying to phrase things carefully. “He’s cool. What brought you to that conclusion? I don’t have a thing for him..”

Trish probably couldn’t tell that you were in denial. “For one, your obvious yelling in the hallway. But if you say you don’t, I believe you.”

And speak of the devil, because he starts to come over to you two without a care in the world. He reaches out to hold Trish’s hand and you have to turn your attention anywhere but there.

“Hey, [Name].” Jeff greets. Honestly, he’s happy to see you. It’s been too long since you’ve spoken to him.

“Hi.” You come off bitter, but you do your best to mask any of it with a forced smile.

For some reason, Jeff feels like he’s over the moon, even if you had only greeted him. “How are you doing? Lita told me that you weren’t doing so well.“

“She’s not?” Trish turns over to look at you with a frown. “You aren’t? What’s wrong?”

Fucking Lita, again with this! This is exactly why you wish she’d just be quiet. You found yourself in a really awkward place because of her. “She’s wrong. I’m fine, like way fine.”

Jeff nods. On another note, he smelt like so much paint. If you looked closely enough, it was almost like it was fresh. You point this out in attempt to shift the topic. “You painted yourself again, huh? The colors are nice,”

The compliment you had given him about the colors had made him feel as if he was getting somewhere.

“Yeah. Sooner or later, I’ve gotta paint something on you. Pick any color and I’ll do it. Wherever you want.” He says. “You’re the canvas.”

Trish smiles. “He’s really good at it. But he’s also really good at getting it all over me..” She giggles, looking down at her hand.

There was definitely chemistry and you feel like you don’t belong. It pains you. “Hey, I just noticed. Do you two have a match tonight or something?”

“We do!” Trish chimes. “It’s funny you say that. It’s against Victoria and Stevie Richards. Don’t worry, we’ll kick their butt for you. Speaking of which, I think we have to go to gorilla. Let's go, Jeff.”

“Have a good match.” You wave. They both thank you and leave you be, but you can see them talking on their own as they head down the corridor.

You’re alone with your thoughts once more, that is until a sickeningly sweet voice had made you groan.

“Oh sweet, sweet [Name].” Victoria coos, reaching over to caress your cheek. You swipe her hand away and she laughs. “I think that was so rude. The audacity of him, right? Just showing up with her like that in front of you.”

You just stare at her.

She continues on, knowing that she’s got you right where she wants. “Now that you know we have a match against them...come with us.”

It sounds more like a command than a request and she’s smiling all the while. “Having them lose would make them feel like they’ve lost everything."

Is that really true? No, is that what you really want? You're hesitant. “I don’t know, it seems a little—“

She quickly cuts you off. “You can trust me, [Name]. We’re friends.”

Friends. You’ve heard that word a lot lately. But you feel as if you had no other choice, you had to trust Victoria. So, you end up following her to gorilla in hopes of getting what you want.

When it was your turn, commentary referred to you as something akin to a lost puppy. You were clearly hesitating, taking painfully slow steps down the ramp.

Stevie has to rush back to grab you by the arm and pull you down the ramp a bit faster, which makes you yelp. “Ow, ow, ow! You’re grabbing me too tight—!” He pays no mind to your complaint, instead presenting you to the duo in the ring as if you were a trophy.

Trish and Jeff were confused. Really confused. Why were you out here with them? The two pass whispers amongst each other while Stevie joins Victoria in the ring.

You can’t look them in the eye, so you try and focus on Stevie as he’s the one to start the match with Jeff. As soon as they lock up, you let out a shrill for Stevie.

It almost makes Jeff break it up, so Stevie quickly takes advantage and stiffs him a bit. You lean your head onto the apron. It's going to be a long one..

So far, Victoria and Stevie weren’t doing too well. Trish and Jeff were completely dominating them and it makes you irritated. You want to help them out a bit. It’s Victoria and Trish in the ring while Jeff and Stevie were going at it outside.

Trish irish whips Victoria into the corner, and the latter brings up her knee to slam right into Trish’s face. As a rebound, Trish decides to hit the Stratusphere once Victoria starts to climb onto the top rope.

Alright, you can’t keep watching anymore. You absolutely have to interfere! Once she grabs her from off of the ground and starts heading towards the rope, you already know she’s about to do Stratusfaction.

In an attempt to stop her, you hop up onto the apron. The referee tries to stop you from getting in in the meanwhile. It’s clear that she hesitates coming towards your side, which gives Victoria enough time to try and reverse it into a Widow’s Peak.

Trish is able to maneuver her way back out of it though, much to your surprise. And instead of hesitating any further, she grabs Victoria by the back of her hair and uses you as leverage for her finisher. It hurt like hell once you hit the ground.

…Actually, you may have landed wrong. Almost immediately, a shot of pain had shot up your right leg, making you curl up and grab onto it. The crowd to let out a gasp.

‘[Name] falling off the apron, by god, that was a nasty fall!’ JR calls. ‘This may be bad news!’

On the other side of him, Jerry cries out. ‘Oh no! Come over here, [Name]! I’ll nurse it better!’

You don’t know what sucks more, the sound of the bell ringing along with Trish’s theme music or the fact you may have been injured. What if you’re taken off of TV? You feel like you’ll have to share your time off with Lita, who would probably drive you insane the entire time.

This is really bad. What starts to make it worse is that Stevie starts to stomp over to you. You can barely stand, which makes him yank you up harshly. He guided you over to the ring and pushed you in.

Now, you’ll have to answer to Victoria. As you try and use the ropes to get up, she stands over you, jabbing a finger in your face. “What the hell was that, [Name]?!”

“I was trying to help you!” It’s safe to say you’re afraid of Victoria right now. She's so unstable, you hated to be on her bad side. "I was!"

"We LOST!" She screams. "That bitch won! And it's all because of you! Guess what?! You're going to pay!"

Shit. Stevie grabs you and lifts you up, keeping you in a hold so that he’s got your arms hooked behind you. Victoria felt that she had no other choice but to punish you.

She reels her arm back in preparation. On instinct, you close your eyes.

…But nothing ever comes. You hear the crowd begin to cheer louder and you open your eyes to see that Trish had slid back into the ring and knocked her down. They move out of the ring, giving the other two enough space.

Of course, Jeff came back, easily maneuvering over to you and Stevie. He lets you go and you crash onto the ground, only able to watch them go at it.

Your leg was definitely busted. You can barely move! Luckily, the fight between the boys in the ring hadn’t last too long. Stevie rolls out of the ring to escape, while Jeff quickly comes over to you.

“Ya’ alright?”

"Besides my leg feeling like it's broken, sure, I'm alright." You sarcastically remark. He starts to walk and you try to hop along with him. “Dude, you’re going to have to slow down.”

“Sorry.” He quickly apologizes, slowing his speed so that you’re comfortable. You note that he’s not as harsh as Stevie was. He’s trying to guide you to the very edge of the ring.

…But he suddenly stops halfway before you get there. “What’re you doing?” You ask.

Jeff doesn’t reply.

Will he’ll regret this later? It didn’t matter. Before you can question him again, he reaches over to grab your face and brings you in for a quick kiss.

You don’t even know what to do. It was so fast, you didn’t even get the opportunity to decide whether you wanted to kiss back or not.

Perhaps it’s a random act of kindness. Maybe even an act of sympathy? You’re not even sure. You just look dumbfounded.

That’s the first time he’s ever done that. He goes back to helping you out of the ring without a word and you feel like it’s for the best.

Somehow, you have to fight the growing smile on your face, despite how much guilt may lie beneath.

Jeff Hardy is a strange individual, that’s for sure. But you know that he’ll always be a hero at the end of the day.

#i made it a little opened ended #it’s the perfect time to ask for part two hehe.#jeff hardy imagine #jeff hardy x reader #wwe imagine #wwe imagines #trish stratus imagine #trish stratus x reader #wwf imagine #wwf x reader #jeff hardy

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zumicho · 4 months ago

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💞 but really I just want to know what you think of ur mutuals ^^

anon. look what u made me do.

ask game

💞 : @ your favorite blog

if you weren’t on this list know I love you !! I just have bad memory <3 IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER !!

@causenessus was the first mutual on this blog I actually talked to / interacted with and her tags for white denim overalls really solidified the fact that I wanted to be part of this community <3 ily ness !!!! anon you didn’t ask but I’m going to list my favorite works from these people too lol

new grounds I think about every 4 business days, and how they comfort you (I’m definitely biased) is so well written and heartfelt !!

@mitskicain is cheating in this thread bc she’s my irl but also quite literally my favorite person alive even tho she NEVER REPLIES WITHIN THE SAME DAY (stuck up, I know) — and if ur into ken sato she’s a great pick !! she has some haikyuu works coming soon too <3

@mollyrolls . the barney to my ted. i love her so bad u guys have no idea I miss her whenever she’s not on here n I’m so grateful they exist </3 molly if u see this u didn’t read that. i hate you i hate you i hate you I hate you hey cupid! is my favorite rendition? version? take..?? on iwa on this app (I’ve said that already) & all shades of blue is criminally underrated

I CAN TELL THIS IS GOING TO BE AN INSANELY LONG POST IM SO SORRY 💔💔💔💔💔

@nectardaddy is an incredible writer and person all around I still can’t fathom that they’re in my dms. dodger u are insane and i love u

88 ford is a well known obsession of mine !! if dodger is the president of the ‘GET UP’ / down bad club consider me the vice president. OH AND IM SO EXCITED FOR I HATE YOUR GUTS

@sweetfushi , the akaashi to my bokuto — sweetest person ever, is one of my only jjk moots and put me onto the show itself 😭🤍 I can’t pick a specific favorite but the way she writes nanami is perfect to me !!! there’s also mha and haikyuu on her page go take a look <3

@kuroppiii RO. THE PATRICK TO MY ART. my favorite film freak on this app. they have a challengers inspired miya twins fic that takes up 90% of the space in my brain. if u don’t go read right NOWWW I’m coming for u and ur family

@sandwhitches IS SOOO FUCKING UNDERRATED her smau dedication is everything. PLUS MY TWIN FLAME HELLO I LOVE U MITCH !!! ur humor is top tier and I’ve never clicked with anyone as quick as I have with you ugh — read on sight or it’s on sight 💥👊

@guitarstringed-scars I haven’t interacted with u as much as I’d wish to but MO UR SO COOL !!! ur movie taste is everything to me and raven’s eye diner is such a creative piece of work and so so fun to read ,, I have to sit down and grab a snack whenever I do

@cr4yolaas is legendary for making mezzo forte I owe u my life rye. I’m so serious rn I was hooked from blue spring (which I still haven’t finished bc i don’t want it to end rip) and I’ll be staying a fan forever!! ur blog is a blessing to this community

@/yenonoff is on a hiatus and I don’t want to bother her but she’s a great rec if u like haikyuu AND eye candy when u read. her blog is just so nice to look at and i miss her terribly

not being on this does NOT mean I don’t like u pleaaaase know I love all of my mutuals dearly n cherish every interaction I have with u all

#I WENT ON A TANGENT #THIS IS SO LONG GOODBYE

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inferencesarchives · 2 years ago

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Hello! I loved your other works about Dan Heng and would to request Dan Heng x male reader. Dan Heng slowly getting a crush on the reader, but he's never felt that before.

(Ah, man. He is just soooo pretty in the game and I like that he is free 4*)

Sampo & Dan Heng Crushing Headcanons

anonymous asked: Hi hello! may I request sampo and Dan heng crush headcannons? like how they would act and what they'd do when they have a crush on reader, like would they be in denial or smth like that! thank you if u took up my request, I hope you'll have a lovely day or night! ❤️

sampo & dan heng x male reader

summary: How would Sampo & Dan Heng act after they notice their feelings for you?

warnings: possibly ooc maybe idk also this is kinda short cuz i ran out of ideas lol sorry :,)

notices how he feels about you pretty quickly after he starts crushing on you.

tries to impress you as much as he possibly can. his brain just goes like "ooo hot man ooo must impress" (lmao)

you don't notice it but every time he hangs out with you his cheeks are slightly tinted pink.

tries to hang around you as much as he possibly can. just randomly pops up next to you whenever you're out and starts talking to you. (lol)

tries to flirt with you. fails because you think it's just him being him (you oblivious mf)

plans out and memorizes a whole ass speech to confess his feelings to you. also plans one of them romantic scenes from the movies to confess to you. im talking like roses spread around and candles lighting the whole area. also makes sure it's a place that nobody else knows about so that noone can bother you two while he tells you how he feels.

his confession to you is like one of those cheesy sappy romantic ones from the novels. he even offers you a rose after he's done speaking. (lmfao)

overall he tries to make you as happy as possible when he's crushing on you <33

HOO BOY. after he realizes how he feels about you he internally loses his shit.

takes him a while to notice that he feels that way about you but when he does finally notice he's like "o shit wait he's hot"

gets flustered a lot more around you and has a hard time looking you in the eye.

makes up excuses to spend more time with you. (march 7th notices this. she makes fun of him for it when you're not around.)

starts doing little things for you that he didn't before (ex. bringing you coffee, helping you with work/studies, stuff like that). you notice it eventually but decide not to comment on it.

you make him smile for the first time ever in his life ever. it's just a small smile but it's still enough to make you do a double take because TF??? HE SMILED???? AT YOUUUU??????

very shy about confessing to you because he's afraid of being rejected by you :(((

when he does finally decide to confess to you it's less of a romantic confession and more of a "pls be my boyfriend pls ily pls" (lmfao)

also his face is redder than a tomato the whole time while he's confessing lol. tries to hide it from you but fails miserably. (lmao)

overall a bit of a mess while he's crushing on you lololol

a/n: finally getting to my requests because it's summer break for me now and i decided to be productive todayyyyy also ngl the mr beast chocolate bars are pretty good like i was eating one while writing this and just,, MMMMM

thanks for stopping by!

wanna submit a request? view my requesting rules here.

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sickficideas · 7 months ago

Note

may i propose the idea of dazai crying until he throws up but Actually. do what u will with this information😭

hello anon, i greet you 11 months later...i am so sorry....and I have no idea if this was even a fic request or just a Hey. This Concept is Cool. and you're right so I wanted to write a fic about it and it took me 11 months. so. here you go Im so sorry LOL

just get up, get up || kunikidazai sickfic

ao3! 5.2k - please refer to the tags in the link for content + warnings! this one is a little heavy (past suicide attempt references, death mentions)

Kunikida is standing outside of Dazai's apartment, originally with a bone to pick with him for not showing up to the company dinner, but he’s long forgotten that. He's far too focused on the fact that he hears Dazai crying through the front door.

Dazai doesn’t cry.

Kunikida has the key to his apartment, as a precaution. He’s had it since the first time Dazai seriously attempted to kill himself, swallowing nearly forty pills from something he stole from Kunikida’s bathroom, that being the only reason Kunikida found him in time. He’s told Dazai he won’t disrespect his privacy unless he thought he had good reason to, and he thinks he has a good reason to do just that right here. He fumbles with his keys to find the one labeled Dazai.

Because Dazai does not cry for no reason.

He barges in, closing the door behind him but not bothering to even lock it properly before he runs to Dazai’s bedroom, where the sobs are coming from. Kunikida’s praying in his head on repeat that he isn’t in a life-threatening situation because that’s not a farfetched idea here, but he doesn’t quite get that feeling here.

Dazai is curled up in the corner of his nearly barren bedroom with the lights off, on his side, on the floor. Kunikida doesn’t see any signs of a suicide attempt, but that doesn’t mean much - just because he doesn’t see a noose or a pill bottle doesn’t mean he’s fine, and clearly, he’s not.

Kunikida can count at least five empty bottles of various types of alcohol on the floor.

“Dazai,” Kunikida starts, but he doesn’t detect any reaction from him, he’s just choking on sobs and sounding nearly unable to breathe, and Kunikida is contemplating calling Yosano. But he can’t do that. Dazai won't do any better with a doctor here, even one he’s familiar with.

Kunikida, for once, can't think of anything to help.

He's seen Dazai drunk before, but he doesn't think that's what's going on. Something else is causing this.

Kunikida kneels down in front of him, laying a hand over Dazai’s arm, covering his face for the most part. The bandages on his arms have long come loose, which tells him just how far off his mental state is right now.

Dazai’s face is red and his eyes are shot, a fact that Kunikida is only able to tell because of how Dazai looks up at him, brow furrowed and almost somehow begging Kunikida to make it stop. What exactly that is, he doesn’t know, but he can’t stand seeing Dazai like this. He needs to do something.

"Did you take something?" Kunikida asks as Dazai’s eyes drift away from him again. Kunikida’s forcing eye contact with a death grip on his arm. "Medications? Drugs?"

Dazai shakes his head just barely, and for some reason, Kunikida feels inclined to believe him. Kunikida is shocked Dazai is even listening to what he’s saying.

"Were you drinking?" Kunikida asks, even though the answer is obvious. Dazai barely nods before pulling his arm back over his face, trying to make himself smaller in some feeble attempt to tell Kunikida to leave, but he won’t even consider it.

"Are you hurt?" he asks, but Dazai doesn't answer. He cries out like he's in pain and his body twists, eyes screwed shut. Kunikida panics, he presses against Dazai's shoulder to lay him flat on the floor and check him over for injuries, but he sees nothing. No blood, no rips in his clothing, nothing. Dazai's eyes have relaxed, but they're still flooded with tears.

“Dazai,” Kunikida starts, not even sure what to follow up with. He feels dizzy. What does he even do here? He needs a plan. He needs to figure out how to help Dazai at least feel better enough temporarily so he's not choking on his sobs. “Let's get you to bed, come on.”

Kunikida scoops a hand under the shoulder that's against the ground to encourage Dazai to get off of the floor, at least, hoping that he can walk himself. Dazai's not crying as hard right now but it almost sounds like there's something else keeping his focus. He manages to get himself together enough to prop himself up, but Kunikida realizes too late that he looks nauseous all of a sudden, and the gag confirms his suspicion. The choking he was hearing were probably half-gags to begin with.

Dazai leans forward and chokes up a torrent of pale, watery vomit, just barely missing Kunikida's knee, but he's not to lucky the second time he gags, most of it splattering up the side of his thigh.

In any other circumstance, Kunikida would have certainly shouted at him. For drinking so much, for not being able to control himself, but he can't even bring himself to say anything, much less reprimand him. All he can do is make sure Dazai doesn't fall face forward in his own vomit.

His seemingly endless tears join in the vomit and drool that drips from his chin as he breathes heavily over the puddle, not able to keep himself up anymore. Kunikida doesn't want him to lay back down anymore -if he's not down throwing up, the last thing he needs is to choke on his own vomit, so he tries to at least prop him up.

He isn't finished, so it was a good call. He manages to avoid Kunikida this time, gagging and spitting up more of his stomach contents to add to this existing puddle, a hand pressed against his tummy.

He hasn't calmed down at all. His eyes look wild, as if throwing up has just made him feel a hundred times worse. Another thing that Kunikida can't do much about. He's so helpless, sitting right in front of him and watching him cry his eyes out without any idea what's going on.

Kunikida leans forward and holds him close, both arms wrapped around him in some kind of attempt to ground him.

“Dammit, Dazai,” Kunikida murmurs quietly. He’s completely and utterly heartbroken. Dazai was just suffering here. He wasn’t trying to end his life. He wasn’t hurting himself. He wasn’t even on anything, he just drank his sorrows away and sobbed for what must have been hours before Kunikida got here. “I'm going to stay with you tonight. Okay?”

He feels Dazai nod against his shoulder. That's a good sign, but he still shakes and sobs against him, like he wants to curl up and disappear in his arms.

That's fine with him, if the feeling helps. Kunikida will hold him as long as he needs him to.

He can't tell how long it's been once Dazai starts to breathe normally, but Kunikida takes the opportunity. He manages to move him over to his bed and under his covers. Dazai's eyes have glazed over. His lashes are still wet but he doesn't seem to be crying much more right now, and he's hoping he will at least be able to sleep for a few hours.

Kunikida tries to straighten things up, per his nature. He picks up all of the empty alcohol bottles and trash that litter his bedroom floor and brings them to the kitchen. He brings a trash bin beside Dazai's bed in case he needs to vomit again soon before he cleans the puddle in the corner. He feels nauseous himself, but he certainly won't make Dazai do the job right now. He wipes up the now-dried bits of vomit on his pants, and grabs another rag for Dazai's face.

He's almost asleep, finally. Kunikida wipes up his mouth and his chin. His face is warm, he lays a hand against his cheek to feel it. He's not worried about a fever, thinking it's probably just how much Dazai has worked himself up.

“I wish you would've called someone,” Kunikida says quietly.

He's glad he got to him before it got worse, at least.

…

The next morning, Kunikida opens the screen door to Dazai's porch. He should have done that last night. The entire dorm room reeks of alcohol and vomit, something he's only realizing with a taste of fresh air.

The rest of the night was easier than it could have been. Dazai somehow managed to sneak past Kunikida at some point, who had fallen asleep on the floor next to his bed, to puke in the bathroom for a few minutes. He would've fallen asleep there if Kunikida hadn't noticed and put him back to bed.

He groans, trying to stretch out the aches in his muscles from sleeping on the floor.

There's not a long list of people he would do that for.

When he wanders back into Dazai's bedroom, he sees him watching. On his side, head halfway engulfed by his pillow and looking at least seventy-five percent asleep, but he's awake.

"Hey," Kunikida says quietly.

"Hi,” Dazai croaks. The first coherent word he's spoken.

“I'll be right back. Just going to my dorm room for a moment,” Kunikida tells him. Dazai only nods. He wonders if maybe he shouldn't leave him alone, but it doesn't look as if Dazai has any energy at all to do something he shouldn't. “Do you need anything?”

He shakes his head, and lets his eyes fall shut. Kunikida feels relieved.

Thank god they have today off, too.

He disappears into his dorm for no longer than ten minutes to change clothes and do his morning routine - brush his teeth, wash his face. He thinks about showering but decides to put that off, not wanting to leave Dazai alone for longer than he needs to. He thinks Dazai would certainly benefit from a shower, too.

He makes it back soon enough to Dazai's bed room. The air feels much more fresh now, which will certainly do Dazai some good. He's turned around, now, the glass of water Kunikida had places beside him on the other side, but still full. Like he had tried to drink some, but decided not to. Kunikida wouldn't be surprised at all if he was still nauseous.

He needs to make him something to eat. Rice or soup would do him some good. Nauseous or not, he needs some substance in his stomach or else throwing up will be much more painful, and leave him feeling much worse - especially when he's pumped full of alcohol.

He turns to walk back into the kitchen, but Dazai's hoarse voice stops him before he can go any further.

"Sorry about last night. Kunikida," Dazai mumbles, his back still turned to him.

Kunikida doesn't think he's ever heard him sound that sincere about an apology before. It's genuine but dripping with guild all the same. It feels strange to hear. He almost wants to joke back.

"It's alright," Kunikida tells him, deciding now is not the time to be having any sort of conversation about it. He'll talk later, right now he just wants Dazai to feel normal. "I'll make you some food. You need to eat."

"I'm not hungry, ‘s okay,” Dazai replies quietly. He’s lowered his voice, like it hurts to keep it over a certain volume. Kunikida watched him shift like he wanted to move, but ultimately decide to sink back down.

"You still need to eat, Dazai. You threw up at least six times last night,” he says with a little sigh. “Just a little so that there's something in your stomach. It doesn't need to be right this second.”

Dazai has two packets of instant rice if he remembers correctly, and nothing else. Kunikida decides he'll go get groceries for him tomorrow. He's pretty certain those packets are left over from the last time he got groceries for him, too.

“I’ll eat later,” Dazai agrees begrudgingly, which Kunikida thinks is certainly better than the response he was expecting. “What’s the time?”

Finally, he turns so that he’s on his back. He tilts his head in Kunikida’s directly. He looks like he’s nearly on his deathbed - he’s so pale and looks exhausted.

“It’s almost nine in the morning,” Kunikida tells him.

“It feels like it’s five AM,” Dazai grumbles.

“Do you want to shower?” Kunikida asks. He’s trying to think of ways to get him out of bed. He doesn’t think wasting away in his dark room is any good for him, and he thinks a shower would certainly help him feel better.

“No,” he grumbles, glaring at Kunikida.

“Well, you should,” Kunikida says, leaning against the door frame.

Dazai groans like a child, turning away so his back faces Kunikida once again. This reaction, he should have expected.

“I'll help you,” Kunikida offers.

“Can it be a bath instead?” Dazai mumbles. Kunikida can hear the pout on his lips.

“Whatever will get you smelling better than a bar,” Kunikida says. He doesn’t care either way. “I’ll start it now, then. I’d really like if you had some water, I don’t need to you pass out on me.”

Dazai makes a vague noise in acknowledgment, but the way he pulls the sheets over his head tells him that he’s going to take advantage of his bed before he makes any plans to drink water.

Thankfully, Dazai doesn’t make the rest of it difficult for him. He doesn’t even argue about the bandages anymore.

Kunikida massages a second round of shampoo into his hair, with Dazai underwater from the shoulders down, quiet for the most part. The water is the perfect temperature and it’s certainly doing him some good, some color has started to come back to his face. He’s a little more quiet than Kunikida is comfortable with, though.

“Anything you usually do on Sundays?” Kunikida asks him, leaning Dazai’s head back just a bit before taking the pitcher of water to rinse the shampoo out.

"I usually…" Dazai mumbles, pausing like he’s not sure he wants to share. He keeps his eyes shut as Kunikida continues to rinse out the shampoo. "I go visit a friend."

"A friend?" Kunikida asks. He thinks most of the shampoo is out. There’s a bottle of conditioner that Kunikida put in here years ago that Dazai clearly never uses - he decides he’s going to do it now, while he has him here.

"Yeah," Dazai nods. He pauses again as Kunikida words the conditioner into his hair, but the silence must have encouraged him to say what’s on his mind. "Do you…can you come?"

Kunikida's surprised at this.

"I don’t have any plans today,” Kunikida says. Not entirely true. He has a Sunday routine, but he can make sure he gets to that in the evening, and just stay with Dazai this morning. “Does he live here? In Yokohama?”

“At the cemetery. By the Port.”

Kunikida almost replies, wondering which neighborhood that is exactly, but his stomach drops once he realizes what Dazai is saying.

Oh.

He's visiting a grave.

Somehow, all of this makes sense, now.

…

Kunikida lets Dazai take his time. Of course, he’s not going to rush him out of the dorm room to go see his friend’s headstone, but he’s moving much slower than normal this morning anyway. Kunikida dries his hair and gives him a change of clothes as he cooks some rice for him to eat, even if it’s only a few bites. He argues, hopes he’ll win, but Kunikida manages to get him to eat at least half of it.

“You go here every Sunday?” Kunikida asks him as they approach the cemetery, now within their sight. Dazai’s been relatively normal on the trip there. It was only a stop away on the train station and a few blocks of walking, but still, he seems much more like himself, he’s realizing now, though, that he was simply trying to distract himself.

“Every Sunday,” he confirms, the tone of his voice now changed. He sounds far away, living some past memory, but his voice holds the same texture of when he was trying his eyes out last night. Kunikida chews his lip.

He’s not sure how he never noticed this tradition of his, either, unless this death was recent. Dazai’s never around on Sundays but he’s never clear about his plans either. He’ll say anything from he’s getting a coffee to he’s planning on overthrowing the government, if he threw in a I’m visiting my dead friend, Kunikida would have thought nothing of it.

Atsushi’s mentioned finding him at a cemetery before, once, when Dazai failed to show up to an emergency meeting. But even then, Kunikida never thought he was there to visit someone.

Dazai slows down as they make it to the entrance, and Kunikida makes it further ahead of him before he realizes he’s stopped. He’s turned away from the direction of the sea, almost looking like he’s holding his breath. Kunikida decides if he should ask him if they should turn around before Dazai brings a hand up to his mouth.

"Dazai, are you - " Kunikida starts, but Dazai is already bent over with a hand on his stomach, throwing up onto the sidewalk before Kunikida can finish his question. “Shit.”

Kunikida curses, laying a hand on Dazai's back. Dazai probably assumed the rice would come right back up anyway, that’s no doubt why he was refusing to eat, but Kunikida wonders if it has something to do with the nerves of where they are right now. But certainly, he wouldn’t react like this every Sunday?

“I’m fine,” Dazai breathes out, spitting up the rest of what’s in his mouth into the small puddle at his feet. It’s not much, but he didn’t have near anything in his stomach to begin with. He looks even worse, now. Kunikida wants him to sit down and drink some damn water.

Kunikida keeps his hand on Dazai’s back as he straightens up and tries to take in a steady breath. Kunikida is almost certain he’s going to throw up again, but he manages to pull himself together enough to continue on to the cemetery gates.

Dazai snakes his hand into Kunikida’s and squeezes it, hard. Kunikida squeezes it back as Dazai leads him to a gravestone, right underneath the tree on the far side of the cemetery.

S. Oda.

Reading the same sends a chill up his spine and he can’t explain why. Kunikida's never heard Dazai mention this person before, not even unnamed. A friend. Dazai doesn't seem like the type to have friends at all, not outside of work.

Whoever he was, he must have been very important to Dazai, to affect him like this.

And the longer Kunikida stands there beside Dazai and stares, the faster he starts to realize that the date of death on the headstone was yesterday's date.

"You should've said something," Kunikida sighs quietly as Dazai slips his hand out of Kunikida’s grip.

"I have a friend who I've never told you about who died in my arms four years ago yesterday. There," Dazai says. It's incredibly nonchalant, something he's trying to pass off as a joke, but Kunikida can hear the pain in his voice. He can feel it.

It must have been an awful death, to break down Dazai like that.

Dazai kneels right in front of the headstone and lays his forehead against the cold marble. He chokes back a sob, evidently, completely incapable of holding himself together. It hurts him so much. He can’t fathom what could have happened. Dazai’s completely broken by this.

Kunikida can't just sit there and watch. He kneels beside him, a little further back. He wants to lay a hand on his shoulder, but he hesitates, and takes his hand again to squeeze it hard instead.

“I'm sorry,” Dazai mumbles quietly, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his hand. “I think…he would've loved working at the Agency.”

“You think so?” Kunikida asks. Four years ago would have been someone in the Port Mafia with Dazai, Kunikida is fairly certain.

“He would've…he would've deserved it more than I do, Kunikida,” Dazai tells him, a few teardrops landing in the earth right in front of the headstone. He’s getting that look in his eyes again, like he’s somewhere else.

Kunikida bites his lip. “Don't say things like that, Dazai.”

“Maybe…maybe if he found him instead of me, then…then they both would've…” Dazai murmurs, and Kunikida starts to worry, because he's not making much sense. He’s not sure who he’s talking about. “but then Atsushi…what about…”

“Hey,” Kunikida starts, squeezing his hand a little tighter, “I don't know what happened to your friend, but no matter how things ended for him, there's nothing you can do to change the past.”

Dazai’s shoulders tense up. Kunikida worries he's having the opposite of the desired effect, but there’s nothing he can do to guess what Dazai could possibly be thinking.

Dazai lifts his head off of the stone, a little too quickly, it seems, because his whole body slumps forward and he smacks his forehead into it before Kunikida can stop him. He holds his shoulders to move him off the stone and he seems to have come back to him already. Kunikida steadies him and makes sure he gets a good look at his face. He still looks dizzy. "You're dehydrated."

"Mm," Dazai huffs. He doesn't seem to care. He rubs the part of his forehead that smacked against the stone and groans.

"Let's take you to Yosano,” Kunikida insists, taking Dazai’s hand and helping him off the ground. He’s really concerned. All of this is very out of the ordinary for him. He wants to take him somewhere he can rest for a few hours, at least.

"I'm okay, Kunikida,” Dazai mumbles, his eyes still pointed down at the headstone. He’s not crying anymore, but he's certainly not all there.

"Like hell you are, Dazai," he huffs, reaching out to lay a hand under his chin and point his face up to look at Kunikida. He looks like a sad, wet cat. "She could get some fluids in you, at least."

"I don't like needles," he murmurs. His eyes drop back down to the ground.

“I know you don’t, but you just fainted because you’re so dehydrated. And I don’t think you have any interest in drinking water right now,” Kunikida says with a deep sigh. Dazai doesn’t argue, but he leans forward to lay his forehead on Kunikida’s shoulder.

Kunikida holds him, one arm around his back and the other on his head, for as long as Dazai needs him to. He knows a lot of what Dazai shows him on a regular basis is a front, a disguise, he’s learned that after many years of working with him - but to see it completely torn down like this breaks his heart.

After a while, Kunikida leads him out of the cemetery. Dazai doesn’t object. He keeps his arm around Kunikida, his eyes on the ground in front of him, not lifting his head. Kunikida lets him. He plans to walk the two of them to the Agency, which isn’t more than a fifteen-minute walk. He knows Yosano is there today, even though it’s closed - it’s when she catches up. He can at least have her look him over.

The Motomachi shopping structure starts to come into view as Dazai starts to lift his head a little and slip his arm out of Kunikida’s. There’s more people around here now, and he can already see Dazai start to mask on, even around people he doesn’t know, people he’ll never meet.

Kunikida feels Dazai’s hand slip out of his grip, and he worries for a moment before he hears a voice coming from behind them.

"Dazai? Kunikida?"

It's Atsushi, Kunikida realizes upon turning around.

"What're you guys doing here?" Atsushi asks. He’s by himself, it looks like.

"Work," Kunikida answers simply, trying to avoid any tough conversation for Dazai. He doesn’t think Atsushi will ask any questions beyond that. "And you? Are you by yourself?"

"Kyoka's in the bakery over there. But I saw you guys from the window and wanted to say hi," Atsushi says, but the smile on his face fades as soon as his eyes peer over to Dazai, who, no matter how much he's trying to fake it, still looks miserable. "Are…you okay, Dazai?"

"Oh, I'm fine. You know. Hungover," he jokes, but he still doesn’t sound like himself, no matter how hard he’s trying. Kunikida supposes the hangover bit might be partially true.

"You really should stop drinking so much," Atsushi scolds. Kunikida mirrors that sentiment, mentally, but he thinks Dazai probably has a much bigger problem than they can address with scolding.

"Mmm…maybe you're right," Dazai says, but it's impossible to tell if he's going to take that to heart or not. Kunikida is going to guess, likely not.

"Me and Kyoka were going to try out this new tea house. It’s like, a block over," Atsushi tells them, gesturing in the general direction. "Would you guys wanna come?"

"Hm. We're pretty busy with work," Kunikida lies, but he's trying to give Dazai an out in case he needs one. "Dazai?"

"We should go. Tea's good," he says simply with a shy-looking smile.

Kunikida's heart melts. Atsushi looks a little suspicious. Certainly, Kunikida would never let Dazai decide if they were going to work or not. Maybe he’s not covering their tracks as good as he thinks they are.

"Alright. We'll come."

"Why are you guys working, anyway? We're closed today," Atsushi says, turning around and leading them towards the bakery down the street, where Kyoka is, presumably.

“Just something the president asked us to take on,” Kunikida explains. “Classified, though.”

“Uh-huh…”

He’s not buying it, but he doesn’t press on. Kunikida’s relieved.

Once they meet Kyoka, the tea house isn’t far at all, and in the direction of the Agency anyway. Kunikida still plans to take Dazai to Yosano afterwards, but he thinks this is a good idea. Tea would definitely do him some good, if he’s willing to drink it.

He doesn’t last long at all, though. He only takes a few sips of what Kunikida had ordered, claiming he would decide from there, before he sneaks off to the bathroom. Kunikida say the nausea on his face, though, that green tinge, his hand over his stomach. He can’t keep anything down right now. He really needs to see Yosano.

“Do you think he’s sick, Kunikida?” Atsushi asks, concern written all over his face. He knows something’s going on.

“He might be. I need Yosano to take a look at him,” he says with a shaky sigh, already having finished sending her a text that they would be on their way over very soon. He’ll flag down a taxi to get them there. It’s not far, but he doesn’t think Dazai should be doing any more activity than he needs to.

When Dazai comes back, looking even worse than before with three concerned faces staring at him, his shoulders sink. Kunikida thinks that he can’t possibly believe he wouldn’t get caught.

“I’ll meet you guys there after we pay,” Atsushi tells them, and Kunikida thanks him. He’ll send him money to cover the bill later. He takes Dazai by the arm and leads him outside. He’s hoping he can get him feeling a little better soon.

…

Atsushi gets to the agency about an hour later, so worried about Dazai that his stomach hurts because of it. Something’s not right, he could tell that as soon as he saw the two of them in the street. Sure, he’s certainly sick with something, but he’s too quiet. He looks sad. That’s just not something he ever sees on Dazai’s face.

He makes it up to the Agency floor. Kyoka decided to go back to the dorms, so it’s just him, and no one but Yosano, Kunikida or Dazai should be in the office. The door to the infirmary is open, but he hears something coming from the office couch.

Dazai sounds like he's gagging again.

He carefully wanders over, not seeing any sign of Yosano behind the partition, it’s just Kunikida and Dazai - he’s curled up on the couch, his arm attached to a fluid line. Kunikida is in the middle of laying a blanket over him and holding a trash bin under his chin. Atsushi wonders why Dazai isn’t in the infirmary instead, but he does like this couch. Maybe he’s just more comfortable here.

Atsushi knows something must be wrong with him if Kunikida of all people is being so kind and gentle with him. Laying a blanket over him just can't be something he'd do for no reason.

Dazai spits up something into the bin before Kunikida lowers the bin. He groans and curls up in on himself again. He doesn't look good at all. Atsushi isn't sure if he's sick or not, but even if he is, it's concerning.

"He's having a hard time today, Atsushi. Don’t bother him too much," Kunikida says sternly, quietly, before he disappears into he infirmary. He hears him and Yosano faintly chattering about something, but the sound is lost on him as he focuses on Dazai’s miserable form.

Atsushi sits on the couch opposite of Dazai for a minute, watching him. Dazai knows he’s there, but he doesn’t look up. His eyes are on the floor. His breathing looks off, like it’s a conscious effort every time. He’s pale and he looks terribly nauseous. Atsushi feels guilty. He wouldn’t have offered for them to come if he knew he stomach was bothering him this much.

"Are you okay, Dazai?" he asks meekly, even though he knows the answer. It's a stupid question to ask, really. Dazai’s eyes finally dart up to meet Atsushi’s.

"I'm always okay," he says. The most non-answer possible.

“You don’t look okay,” Atsushi tells him with a little pout. He’s seen Dazai hungover before, it’s never, ever this bad. The worst it does it make him complain and give him a headache.

Dazai sighs quietly. "Just…missing a friend."

"A friend?" Atsushi asks, scooting up a little further. Dazai doesn’t ever talk about friends. "Why don't you go see them?"

"I saw him this morning."

Atsushi’s heart sinks as he puts all of the pieces together. He’s seen Dazai’s friend before, too. He and Kunikida were coming from that direction before Atsushi met them today. “Your friend in the cemetery?”

Dazai nods slowly.

“I'm sorry, Dazai,” Atsushi says quietly. Dazai shifts his body so that he’s lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. “He must’ve been really important to you.”

"He's the reason I left the Port Mafia," Dazai says gently. “I wouldn’t…be here without him.”

Atsushi gives him a halfway smile. It’s not often that Dazai ever opens up about anything. Maybe it’s how he’s feeling, maybe he’s just deep enough in his thoughts to let his guard down, but Atsushi’s thankful that he’s shared that with him.

“I’m glad you knew him, then. Even if…even if you wished you knew him longer. He changed your life, right?” Atsushi says. He can’t part much wisdom to Dazai, someone who seems to know everything, but Dazai turns his head to look at Atsushi. It’s a warm expression on his face. Atsushi can’t tell what he’s thinking at all.

“Right, Atsushi.”

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