#to be clear i think it's a good thing. i think despite it all he's actually capable of making progress now

[wtfaniii]

Thank you for all your support in the first part of this one shot! Here I bring you the second one as you requested, I hope you like it💗

Paparazzi

Part 1 // Part 2

Summary: A private detective that Gi-hun had hired to investigate those games he participated in three years ago, is taken against her will without knowing that a certain man with power and money knew absolutely every detail about her.

Warning: Some harassment, angst and violence.

Note: I'm open to special requests and constructive criticism! Sorry for the delay with this second part but I just got back to college and have been a little busy.

—I'm sorry for hitting you like that.

As they walked back to the room, the girl apologized embarrassedly, perhaps she had gone a bit too far and the best way to calm him down would have been to talk.

But it was the tension of the moment.

—Don't worry, I think I needed it —He replied with a soft smile.

They felt the judging glances of the other players for surviving but that didn't bother them, yes, maybe it was a little uncomfortable but the smile and a happy greeting from player 149 made the entrance more pleasant.

After sitting down and talking a little, each one introduced themselves with their respective names. They were a team from now on and they preferred to call each other by their names instead of a simple number that they had on their jackets.

—I’m sorry for that behavior earlier —Young-il apologized to the two girls on the team.

Uncontrolled behavior was common among men, they knew how easily lost their sanity if failed to achieve a goal, especially if it was the life at stake, but having done so in front of two young ladies was frowned upon.

—And Jun-hee, as soon as we get out of here you should go see a doctor, stress is not good for you.

The way he expressed that feeling of concern and empathy for the pregnant young woman was charming to the girl sitting next to him.

She had only known him for a few hours, but the fluid conversation they had managed to make them agree on several things, she was delighted with that player, but the cherry on the cake was the laugh that appeared on him face when he made a joke about Gi-hun's name, no one shared his moment of happiness except for her.

It was impossible for her to remain serious when she noticed that despite the circumstances they were in and the fact that were about to die a few minutes ago, Young-il maintained his humor.

After a few minutes, voting began once again to decide whether to stay or leave, however the majority of participants voted for the blue circle, condemning the rest of the players who refused to continue playing.

The girl continued terrified, this was not her job, Mr. Seong Gi-hun had not hired her for that.

In-ho just watched her, noticing her lips pressed together in a grimace and her brow furrowed, a sign that was frustrated at not being able to get out of there.

While the food was being distributed, In-ho sat next to Gi-hun in complete silence, player 456 was further away from his target and that disappointed him, but his eyes drifted slightly towards 455, the detective was sitting on her bed accompanied by Jun-hee, the disappointment and fear of staying still etched in their expressions.

When Jung-bae came over to apologize for pressing the blue circle he stood up and walked towards the two girls.

—Take it Jun-hee —His voice caught her attention —You need to eat more to maintain your strength —Seeing that she was going to refuse, he insisted with a smile —Besides, I don't drink whole milk.

222 took the little box and thanked her with a slight bow.

—You have to eat too —He said looking at the girl.

She hadn't even gone for food, she was nervous about the next game and more than out of fear, preferred to think about how to get through the next round.

—I'm not that hungry.

—I'll go with you.

In-ho wasn't asking if she was hungry or not, it was a request for her to go get his food and eat it later.

She couldn't refuse and he made that clear when held out his hand for her to take, Jun-hee watched the act with wide eyes and a slight smile, he was quite the gentleman.

—I'll go with the others —222 said, starting to feel like was in the way.

—Come on —In-ho repeated, taking her hand and gently pulling up from where she was sitting.

Her smiled at him and went for she respective portions. As night fell, Gi-hun began to make a kind of fortress where they could stay. They would take turns sleeping or staying awake to stand guard.

—��Don't you think you're exaggerating? I don't think these people are capable of killing each other —Said 001 with a grimace.

—You haven't seen these games before —Gi-hun argued.

—He's right —the girl said. —We must be alertm

The way she seemed to be able to be afraid and brave at the same time was curious to In-ho.

During the night, everyone was asleep except for Jung-bae and Dae-ho because it was their turn to keep watch, but seeing that the girl was also awake, Dae-ho approached her.

—¿Aren't you going to sleep? ¿What are you doing?

Watching her try to break the zipper of the jacket, he arched an eyebrow.

—¿What are you doing? —Him ask for the second time, this time more curious.

—The bathrooms have ventilation, with something metal I can open the gate.

It wasn't a great plan but it would be useful, or at least that's what she thought.

—¿Are you going to escape? —Dae-ho asked in surprise at her plan.

Those words caught the attention of the man who was barely trying to sleep in his bed, In-ho opened his eyes and listened attentively.

—I hope so —she agreed not very convinced that those ducts lead to a safe exit without guards. —If I manage to do it, I will go for Gi-hun's team and come back for you guys

—¿What if he finds out?

—Well... The worst thing that can happen to me is getting a bullet in the head.

In-ho twisted his lips, it seemed that the detective who was afraid of dying had disappeared, leaving behind a girl who now only wanted to survive but without seeing anyone else die.

That was honorable, he admitted, but still didn't understand how she would risk his life for people she barely knew and for his boss, accept that she escape without looking back but come back for them?

¿For him?

Or at least that's what he thought when he felt her gaze on him.

—None of you deserve to die in here, you are good people, if I am going to die... I will not do it playing, I will do it trying to do something good.

Those words were enough for In-ho to recognize her worth, finally there was the girl he had been following for a whole year who planned her moves well.

It was nice what she wanted to do.

It was also a complete shame that him had to ruin it for her.

Thanks for reading!! 😸😸😸I think the third part will be full of angst and will be somewhat cloying. I love romance sorry

Tag list:

@lucinda-reads @deathsmellzz @autmn4lvs @cvbi @ava-cjkk @ari200027 @claristary

[fgumi]

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 my youth is free: to a fresh start

warning(s); written with a word count of 2,018

it didn’t matter if you knew donghyun for 6 years or dated him for 5. he always managed to give you butterflies, every single time. whether or not the butterflies you’re feeling now are good ones or just your breakfast threatening to spit back up, you’re not sure. you rounded the corner, taking a deep breath and counting to 10, before entering the cafe that used to be donghyun’s favorite casual date spot. or, maybe it still is his favorite spot. you shouldn’t speculate. clear heart, open mind.

you looked around and saw donghyun sitting in the center, right by the large fish tank that the cafe had as a divider. crazy how he always managed to get the most coveted spot in this large cafe.

his gaze followed one of the whiptail catfishes moving towards your direction. you guess that you caught the corner of his eyes because he straightened up and gave you a small wave.

oh crap. this is really happening. one foot over the other, y/n. breathe in, breathe out. it’s just donghyun. you know him. you’ve loved him for the past 5 years. you’ve been best friends for 6 years. he’s not going to suddenly turn into a stranger.

as you got closer, you took note of his glowy skin and warm eyes. good. he’s okay. well, i guess he would be okay. he broke up with you. are you okay? you’d like to think so. these past months weren’t all good. during the first month, you really did cry on your brother’s shoulder every night. woonhak was so patient with you, being so mature and wise. he even acted girly pop for you, so you could act like you’re venting to one of your girl friends who had grown frustrated with the topic.

but, little by little, you were able to face the day with a new appreciation. you attributed a lot of it to jaehyun and dongmin. their energy was infectious on and off the court. even without knowing about your recent breakup, they managed to be considerate of you and didn’t take offense when you shied away from them at times. on days where pick-up wasn’t in the cards for you, they’d understand and, sometimes, even offer to just hang out. it made you feel loved, despite them not saying it.

if the volleybrawlers (the name’s growing on you, you think) pulled you out of your sadness, you’d say dongmin gave you that final push towards normalcy. it wasn’t anything major, really. on the nights you found yourselves alone, your conversations would venture towards your past relationships and how they affected you. you found a lot of comfort from it. woonhak, for all that he tried, had never been in a relationship and couldn’t relate to you. but dongmin surprised you. he was more open than you thought he’d be. he listened to you intently when you’d ramble on about how you felt lost when donghyun broke up with you, reassuring you that you weren’t getting annoying by bringing it up all the time. as nights went on, the conversations changed. they moved away from relationships and settled on yourselves, your hobbies and aspirations.

you realized it one day—instead of venting, you were learning and sharing. it caught you by surprise, but it was nonetheless pleasant and satisfying. you were okay and you were getting better. the thought made you smile a little.

“where’d you go?”

your focus sharpened to donghyun’s curious face. “you got that faraway look you get when you’re thinking really hard,” he smiled, stirring his coffee. “i always wished i could follow you into your mind whenever you got those looks. your mind seems so cool to be in.”

as you raised an eyebrow, the ends of your lips twitched, wanting so desperately to smile at his dopey face. “you’re one to talk. i used to think you held the universe in your head with how spacy you were.”

“spacy? i don’t get it.” donghyun’s round eyes twinkled when he chuckled. “i never really got a lot of things about you, if i’m honest.”

“what do you mean?” you asked, ignoring the dull pang in your heart.

donghyun must still be able to read your microexpressions because he immediately looked apologetic. “oh, not in a bad way! sorry, i’m just–” he nervously laughed and ran his hand through his blond hair, exhaling. “a lot of my love for you stemmed from not understanding you. it’s like you defined coexistence for me. does that make sense? hold on, let me think.”

you stared at him as he tried to collect his thoughts, following his eyes to the lively fish tank next to you guys. “mmm, the best way i can explain it... you know how scientists haven’t even discovered 5% of the mariana trench?” he paused, glancing at you to make sure he wasn’t being confusing. you nodded, signaling him to continue. “but they stick to it because they’re fascinated by the little things they’re discovering. they’re not even concerned that, most likely, they won’t get to experience the mariana trench’s entirety in their lifetime. they just keep going, falling in love with everything they do get to experience... that’s what you were—are to me, my very own mariana trench—someone that i was going to keep exploring and falling in love with well after my death.”

a shine had taken to donghyun’s eyes when he rested them on you. you could feel tears blanketing your own eyes. you opened your mouth to speak, but words failed you—or, rather, you failed to even have words. what can you even say to that?

donghyun took a moment to blink back his tears before continuing. “but i got scared. school was getting a lot harder and, after my internship, i knew our relationship was starting to fall apart. it was unchartered territory for me. our entire relationship had been so free and easy up until that point. misunderstandings virtually stopped existing after our first year. you got me and i got you. so when our communication started faltering, i didn’t know what to do. as much as i wanted to do more for you and love us back to life, i couldn’t do it without sacrificing my plans and mental health. and… that’s when i knew i had to let you go. i wasn’t going to be the boyfriend you deserved while i knew you’d put in your 200% just to save us. that wasn’t something i could live with, y/n.”

you shut your eyes and let the tears fall. you took quiet, shallow breaths to avoid attracting too much attention. unfortunately, eyes were inevitable considering you guys were sitting next to the cafe’s centerpiece. ruffling reached your ears. “here.”

your eyes fluttered open to see donghyun offering a pack of tissues. you reached out to take one when you noticed the design. it pained you all over again. it was one of the gifts you got him for your 5th anniversary—a specially designed tissue pack with your shared fish on it. you joked that, since you tend to cry a lot and donghyun always seemed to be scrambling to find tissues, he should have these on hand. you couldn’t believe he still carried them.

you wiped your tears away before taking a deep inhale. “i really don’t know what to say,” you said through a watery laugh. “you answered practically all the questions i had.”

donghyun returned it with his own weak chuckle. “the therapy—it’s got me communicating my feelings a lot better than we’re used to.”

we’re—we… how does one word manage to bring you so much comfort and riddle you with just as much ache?

“it’s doing you some good,” you smiled softly, your mindful breaths turning back into second nature. “you look… better.”

he nodded firmly, his eyes crinkling into crescents. “i think it’s the best decision i ever made for myself.”

you hummed, dropping your eyes to your half-empty cup. was this the closure you both needed? is it time to walk away forever? is that what this was for? why did you find yourself wanting to keep talking? god, you couldn’t help but miss him even though he was sitting right in front of you. you missed his quirks and ditziness, how in-sync you guys were about so many things.

“tell me what’s running through your head,” donghyun gently interrupted, leaning slightly forward as if you were trading secrets. you hesitated. was it healthy to miss him? after the time that’s passed? you bit your lip, slowly losing yourself to your thoughts again. donghyun dug into his pocket again and produced chapstick, handing it to you. you subconsciously applied it, not biting your lip anymore, when you realized what just happened.

“why did you hand me this?” you asked confused. donghyun smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. “you never bite your lips after you apply chapstick so i carried around your favorite for you to use. i was gonna give it to you today before we parted ways…”

and there it was. the impending goodbye. the approaching end credits. you knew this was inevitable. you prepared yourself for this all of yesterday. so why, after all the time apart and spending it with new people, did you find it hard to let him go? it wasn’t like you wanted to get back together with him. you knew that was a no-no. you and woonhak talked about it in lengths. heck, even you and dongmin talked about it after what happened with gawon. so why did it feel like a part of your soul would go with him when he leaves?

donghyun waved his hand in front of you, his face peaking from behind it. “y/n? come back down to earth, silly.”

you gently grabbed his hand and pushed it down. “donghyun… what happens now?”

when your eyes met, you could feel the tears welling up again so you turned to the fish tank, counting all the fish inside. you felt him grab your hand and brush your knuckles with his thumb. “what do you want to happen?”

your lips quivered a bit. what did you want to happen? you didn’t want to lose him. not forever. but you also didn’t want to add on to his stress. you didn’t want to add onto your own, not when everything was getting better. “i want whatever is best for you, whatever will help you succeed and do all you want in this life.”

“mmm, can i ask what you’ve been thinking about?” donghyun asked.

you hesitated, glancing over at your ex, but the encouragement on his face helped you swallow your fear. “i was thinking about how much you meant to me and continue to mean to me. i don’t… i don’t wanna lose you, but i know that being in each other’s lives can create more stress for us in the long run.”

donghyun’s face didn’t hold any disappointment. you were glad. he focused on your clasped hands and smiled sadly. “i’m glad. i was thinking the same way.”

you couldn’t stop the tear that escaped. “does this mean goodbye?”

“it doesn’t have to,” he trailed off, looking into the tank. “i think we can still be friends. we just have to say goodbye to the versions of us that planned a life together.”

“that’s so sad,” you whispered.

he nodded in agreement. “it is, but i’m willing to sacrifice that to get my best friend back. what do you think?”

was this a good idea? you pursed your lips. when you guys first decided to try being just friends, it was fresh off the breakup. of course, it’d hurt, right? but, now, you guys had your own separate lives and things seemed to be looking up for both of you.

“okay,” you decided. “let’s be friends.”

the grin growing on his face caused a smile to grow on yours. “to a fresh start?” he suggested, holding his half-full coffee cup. you held your own coffee up. “to a fresh start.”

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‧.₊˚ ੭ˊᵕˋ੭ current tags: @en-dream @heeheesang @prettyange1 @bee-the-loser @httpenhoon @r1kification @tkooooop @viller2 @veerooniicaa @lynnimini @peanutbutterjam505 @molensworld @tsukimiday0 @kazemiya @jvngw0nlvr @swanyvess @taylorluvation @kamfaye @anyaunyu @miujunhui @21corydoras @tsanho @miyawwn @dylanobr1ens @ellezra @prettiann @noodlesfeet @ribbioniki @petralovesbonedo @imnotsureokay @soupersaldz @hyukarina @cherrytaesan @yuzuksi @haechology @shenrickyistheloml @pinklemonade34 @heizqo @pinkiwinkiminki @sitdlstarllala @enzstr @wonuziex @defnotsanni @exselily @sirenla @seungheartyou @pumpkg @vveebee @cl4ir0l0v3r @angelzforu

੭ˊᵕˋ੭ a/n: i think exs can be friends, but only after building lives apart from each other. how did you read this? critiques welcome! if you disagree, that's okay! everyone lives and thinks differently and that's what makes life so rich.

[cherie-doll]

i hope the day is good for you 🫶🏻 (english is not my first language) can you please write a story with cod men, about what would they do when the reader doesnt make it home from the mission - like they are waiting at home for her but she's dead.

thx for submitting love <33

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: They Waited For You

౨ৎ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price

He didn't believe it at first, there was just no way... he immediately got to verifying all his sources, even went down to talk to the other soldiers who had been a part of your team

You were supposed to come home, he expected you to come back to him, safe and sound like always but instead of falling asleep and exhausted in his arms like you should've been by tonight, your corpse was out there somewhere missing his embrace

He thought of how he could've prevented this from happening, yes he still blamed himself for anything bad that happened to you despite it not being in his hands, maybe if he could've kept you from going, why did you even feel the need to continue doing this?

There was no one else he cared for as much as he did for you, which truly said a lot of your relationship, but since he met you he felt an overwhelming urge to show love like he'd never done before, nothing else on earth deserved this dedication like you did

He deteriorated rather quickly, the mornings became grim and he couldn't bear to see the sun setting without thinking of how much you loved letting the rays caress your arms and let your eyes take in that golden light, you looked so beautiful in those moments

Ghost

Since he met you, there was finally a stage in his life he could think of purely, sure the relationship wasn't perfect, but this was something he could be reminded of and he didn't have to fight to keep it hidden in the back of his mind, he let the memories emerge to the surface and ponder about them

It had been something pleasant but it had been ripped out of his hands far sooner than he would've wanted, his fantasy that had become a corrupted reality, it makes him want to die, badly, but he always found a way to survive the deadliest situations, somehow he always did; as if he was cursed with immortality

But this? He felt no desperation urging him to dig out of the hole he was sinking into, the walls closing in on him from all sides and he made no effort to push it away, it felt sort of relieving being cramped and paralyzed since he couldn't see the path ahead of him, with you it had become so obvious and clear what he wanted but now there was nothing worth moving towards

Did life always want something from him? Just when he thought he lost everything he could lose, there was always something else being pried out of him, it was painful because it was forcefully taken away just when he was getting attached, when there was no foreseeable evil trying to destroy him there was some good, and you had been the best unexpected thing in his life

Soap

You were like an illusion he had always dreamed of and finally were achieved, a life so dreamy and ideal he thought would never be in his reach, but he had been permitted to have it for a short while with you

Within your time together a love so beautiful had bloomed, it was sweet how sublime it had felt, you had been youthful, still beaming with so much life within you but tragically cut short, those years had gone and went unused

He couldn't find the sense within him to comprehend why it had to be you, your death had been like a cold slap to the face, he had once again become aware of the disheartening reality he lived in, that nothing was secure nor did everything stay the same forever

Well, he knew about the forever part, but did it have to come so soon? He had to gather the strength within him to continue forward and he wasn't even sure of that, there was still so much left unsaid, so much still to be done, and how frustrated he was that it would all be forgotten and left unfulfilled

A sadness like no other would coat his existence, swallow him up and change him beyond recognition, his mind would be invaded by memories of you that will replay until they burned and ceased to exist... the day he ceased to exist

Gaz

All those days that he had spent with you had been the most fulfilling days he had ever experienced, he could remember the warmth of your hand, the weight of your body asleep next to him on the mattress, the security knowing you valued his affection and returned it

He truly felt the happiest with you and he wished to be encased in that happiness forever, but how naive it was of him to think it was possible for even a second, life was always moving and throwing hurdles at us that seem impossible to avoid, it's only a matter of time misfortunes come to us all

By simply contemplating and reminiscing, he felt grief beyond help and any consolation couldn't do much for him, wistful memories came to him and he could not sleep at night, all they did was leave a dark imprint on his mind

His caring nature did not change, he thought with time he could heal and learn to move on, but some things never change, and a sore spot still brings pain when pressed too hard, he would mull over this no matter how painful it was to do so

How he misses to hold you in this moment and kiss you

Roach

The news of your death came like a hard blow to his face, and he was left clutching his chest, eyes watering with tears as he desperately tried to cling onto some comforting memory in his mind

Restlessness follows immediately, even at night sleep does not come to him no matter what he does, the memories you shared seemed to tear him apart rather than anything help him, but he didn't want to forget you either

He knew he couldn't get you back and he had lost you forever in this life, panting and gasping he would awaken from his nightmares, the little sleep he got would do nothing to comfort him, and you weren't there to comfort him, to silently hold nor ease with your voice in his ear

His mind wanted to deceive his heart, make him believe you were somewhere far away but still thinking of him, that he could close his eyes and imaging resting his head on your shoulders, basking in serenity as he lost himself in the waves that lulled him

Alejandro

He was overtaken by bitterness and anger, his better judgement was clouded far beyond reason at the most valuable treasure in his life forever gone, the feeling of longing would become a hole he'd spend his days trying to fill with wrongful acts

All he wanted and needed was your touch to remind him reality was there and not as cruel as he thought, you had still met and loved in your time and nothing could take away what had already been done, he could live blissfully in life knowing you had known each other

But could he be satisfied with that? He could strongly feel the ties that bound you together still tug at his heart, and every year he remembered you, would set an altar for you and fill it with what were your favorite foods and things

He would stare at your imagine, remembering how he once had kissed those lips, stared into your sparkling eyes that watched him endearingly, your face he had held within his hands...

He could never have that back

Rudy

He missed delicately tracing your face, his fingertip raising softly over every curve and line, your silhouette against the wall when you rose that morning, early so you could still say your goodbyes to him and tell him to expect you back very soon, this one wouldn't be too long you said

You had left him a content man, he'd sit around the house and wait, he would take it easy these days because you'd be back soon, but he wasn't ready to withstand the tumult he'd find himself in

His heart had become haggard in the days following your death, he had absorbed every bit of warmth and clung to the last signs that you had left behind, he wished he had been there, to ease your last painful moments before death, how much did that train of thought torment him, day and night it ran through his mind

In sleep, he dreamt of terrible ways you had encountered death, surely, you didn't have a peaceful one, you were healthy and fit to make it, something terrible must have happened but no matter how much he wished to know the cause of your death it wasn't given, most likely for the best to remain unknown

Phillip Graves

He often boasted of having you in his life, it was such a fortunate occurrence when you met that he didn't think it was entirely a coincidence, he loved doting on you and hold you in his arms knowing you were there for him

You had already confirmed the date of your return, but that day came and passed and there was no sign of you, worse yet no message or word had been heard on your part, it was he who had to dig and find out that you had been KIA

It felt like a strong blow to his chest to have you ripped away from him, he knew the harsh reality and danger he was constantly under, he just never imagined it would get to you one day

You shouldn't have paid for his sins or errors, he wished you had stayed out of the battle, but you had your own life to carve out and ultimately it had been your decision

Much time would have to pass before he'd be able to say your name, for the longest time he'd whisper it, as if afraid it'd shatter his reality even more, staying in the air reminding him of what he lost

Makarov

You were forever gone from his grasp, how was he to cope with that? The fire that had warmed his insides, making every act of his be out of love for you suddenly halted, reduced to nothing but ashes and now he was left to sweep the heaps of it

The emptiness growing and knowing there wasn't a piece to fit or make him whole again like you, you were a unique piece, the edges weren't cut with delicacy that an experienced hand could replicate, there wasn't a mold to follow to shape something else into you

You sprung out of chaos and spontaneity with ease, there was a lightheartedness you brought out in him that brought out the best in him, all of it offered to you who didn't greedily take but lovingly returned

He didn't want to believe someone like you could just be taken away from him and have nothing done about it, just when he thought he could be tender he'd return to his old ways, the resentment stronger than ever and tied to his heart, obscuring and consuming him

Keegan

How despairing did this turn out for him, never had he imagined he'd lose you, all that time he had spent training with you, preparing for when the worst could happen and each time you had managed to slip away, always

Except this time you weren't fast enough, he knew those shoulders held up a levelheaded person, who confidently calculated their every move, it was unfair you had been taken

His brows are now furrowed, thinking this just has to be some sort of protocol you're following, faking a death isn't all that uncommon, maybe you were still alive out there, hiding away somewhere for your safety, each day he held the pitiful hope that you'd come back to him, then he'd nurse your injuries and help you stand back up

But moons waxed and waned and you didn't appear, and he couldn't hold the fragments of you close to his heart if you wouldn't be around to reignite them and make them come true again

His palm that had curled, clutching the remnants loosed and he had to give up that foolish dream and accept reality as it was being presented

König

Was it cruel if he wished it was you who had received the news instead of him? He thought it would have been that way, he often joked about the benefits you'd get when he passed, it wasn't supposed to be you to leave earlier than him

Relaxed he was sitting in the armchair until he received the terrible news, his breaths became desperate as he tried to get air into his lungs, he wanted to march down there to the field himself to collect you, to not believe it just yet

Maybe you'd be down there, hiding away in some corner like the sly fox you were and say you had managed to dodge the bullet this time

But he was disappointed with the outcome of things, he hated it when things didn't follow the path he set for them but no one could have controlled the outcome of this course, it had left a profound wound in his heart he wasn't sure he'd be able to heal from

You had parted without saying your goodbyes and now he wouldn't be able to live with that, to live longer still with you in the back of his mind

Horangi

He hated anything that brought the slightest trace of despair, and he dealt horribly with it, he ran on pure serendipity but now he couldn't count on that, was it by being at the wrong place and time you had been one of the lives lost, the most important one to him

He felt the urge to go back to his old ways of numbing out the pain, but he pushed that temptation away, it would only drain his money and everything he had worked for go to waste, he knew you wouldn't have wanted that for him and right now he just wished to keep the traces of you very much alive and present

He wanted to go about his days as if you were still there, the flower you planted, he tried to keep it alive and water it, the way you left your stuff around the house, that way it was easier to transport himself to a time when you were there with him, still at home

The people of the past are hard to forget but he didn't mind, he faced the situation with more determination than he himself expected, he was surprised at the resolve he had come up with

He had loved without regret, and with every passing day he'd be closer to reuniting with you again

Nikto

The only sound occupying the complete silence is the static in his mind, he's just numb, doesn't know what to do, what he should do with whatever emotions he's trying to detect, he must feel something

He was just delivered the worst news of his life, he should be breaking down and crying but he can barely even process the fact that you really are gone, he looses his train of thought every five seconds and can only stare forward as if in a trance he's unable to escape out of

He feels the long seconds drag by but he can't get up from his fixed spot on the chair, it's like a knife has been plunged into his side and pulled out, leaving the gaping wound pulsating softly, but he can barely hear his flesh scream out in pain, he can only feel the blood oozing out, staining his clothes and falling to the floor in droplets as he actively ignores it

He is hurt but can only clutch at it, he can't get up, feels far too comfortable sitting on this kitchen chair staring forward to the wall, elbows resting on his knees

[the-mpreg-guy]

#literally this is the thing!!#Dean has not explicitly said the words ''please stop leaving''#but he has tried very hard through his actions to express that#AND!!!! CRUCIALLY!!! BECAUSE DEAN IS ACTUALLY A PRETTY GOOD VERBAL COMMUNICATOR!!#he has ALSO!!! verbally expressed his desire for Cas to stick around using OTHER words!!!#not as explicit as ''please stop leaving and stay with me'' but absolutely conveying the same sentiment#what the hell do you think ''we're stronger together'' and the whole ''cursed or not'' speech were about????#like Cas needs it to be more clear than that to Get It bc he does not understand how his constant absence HURTS#but Dean does not want to BE more explicit than he already is#bc he feels like he's been VERY direct on the subject already#he literally told Cas he needs him. TWICE. and has prayed that he needs him there with them at least once that I can recall#Dean thinks he's been EXTREMELY explicitly clear already!!!#and that Cas is constantly leaving bc despite hearing Dean's tacit request to stay Cas is REFUSING that request and doesn't WANT to stay#he keeps asking and getting rebuffed WHY would he be louder and needier about it when he thinks all it's going to get him#is the emotional equivalent of a slap to the face?#in no universe is Dean going to ask for something louder when from his POV he's already been begging for it and being refused like????#this is one of those cases where neither of them is actually doing anything wrong#Dean is communicating perfectly fine it's just Cas is autistic and missing some subtext#Cas isn't wrong for prioritizing his missions when he doesn't understand that Dean wants him there as much as he wants to be there#they're just talking past each other and a deeper conversation or two would fix this problem for them#they just don't realize that conversation is necessary#bc Dean thinks he's been heard and understood and Cas is politely declining his request for more time together#and Cas is unaware that that's something Dean has been asking for at varying volume levels for years#and instead bc of his trauma feels compelled to ''earn'' his place in the family with feats of strength so to speak#no one is at fault for their emotional needs not being met it's just a miscommunication#unfortunately the fandom focuses super hard on only one part of that equation and thus the takes on it are so often Bad™#and ignore Cas's motivations and role as a complex actor with his own trauma and emotional issues and blind spots#anyway they're losers I adore them both <3#spn tags via @ilarual

on a realer note i do think people forget that a huge part of the destiel equation is that cas won’t stay. like yeah we focus a lot on the fact that dean won’t ask him to, but cas never sticking around is a huge factor there

[jarofstyles]

The Heart Of The Woods

Hi my loves! I wanted to give you guys a peek into our grumpy mountain manrry! He’s different to some that I’ve written before but I think you’ll like him if you give him a chance

Read the series ( 9 parts ongoing) and 220+ exclusive writings on our Patreon!

WC- 1.4k

Warnings- tiny bit of rejection, asshole h

He hadn’t been sure what he was thinking.

Hiring a housekeeper had not been on his agenda, but it put his mum at ease. Being far from her, up in his large cabin in the middle of the mountain, she had said she worried a lot about not only his well being, but about him overworking himself. His days started early, working on splitting wood, emails, driving down to deliver it, and all of that. His group of employees that worked on the lot not too far from his own place up the mountain were his main source of socialization and even they knew not to bug him too much.

Harry preferred to be left alone.

So why hire a housekeeper? It sounded okay at the time. Someone to keep the fire stoked and the house warm so he could come home and not have the house be cold for him and his animals, someone to cook and clean and… another body in the house. Make it less lonely. Maple was a good companion, Ash was too, but a dog and a cat didn’t replace human connection. Perhaps that’s why he had found himself feeling more irritated lately.

Watching the car pull in, he had to wonder how she could fit her belongings into such a small vehicle. Weren't women supposed to have a lot of stuff? The question was answered as she stepped out of the car, light wash jeans clinging to her thighs and pink sweater hanging on her form as she waved up to him. "Hi!" she grinned a tad bit too brightly for his comfort, jogging up to the wraparound porch. "I’m so sorry l'm a little late. I got lost at the turn- the split in the road? and I didn't have good service to call and let you know. I usually try and do that.”

She was rambling.

He grumbled, wiping his hands on his work pants. “Late's fine. I didn’t have any plans today, just don’t make a habit of it.” Glancing at her car, then back at her, he gave her a little bit of a look. “You got everything you need?” He wasn’t the best at socializing, famously, but she wasn’t aware of that yet considering their talk had mainly consisted of emails. It would be something she quickly found out.

“Oh!” Her chuckle was nervous as the man stood tall above her on the wooden porch, making her look up a bit at him. “Uh, yeah. I.. I kinda had to get out of my place in a hurry, so this worked out.” She smiled up at him before looking back to her car. “Did you want me to grab my stuff now or did you want me to do it after you give me the run down of what you want me to do?”

He sighed, stepping aside to let her pass. “Follow me.” He led her inside, shutting the door behind her. It was weird feeling someone else in his space. It had been a long time since he’d heard footsteps other than his own or his pets in the hall, and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it yet. Leading her down the wooden hall, he brought her towards the main part of the house- a large step down living room he mentally referred to as the den. The stone fireplace was lit with the fire going already as he gestured to a chair by it. “Sit.”

Y/N was distracted a little by the skylight- and then the view outside. It was absolutely gorgeous. The whole place was. She had slightly underestimated it despite the size of the place when she had applied to work eyes but she would make it work. At least the view was great. She could see that there was a deck outside, the view of the mountains sprawling behind them sort of blowing her away. The awe only lasted a few moments though, when she heard him clear his throat. Oops. “Sorry.” She smiled nervously. “The view distracted me. You’ve got a beautiful home.”

He grunted, not really used to compliments. Small talk wasn’t his thing. He sat down in his recliner, stretching his legs out in front of him before resting his hands on his knees. “So, as your employer, I expect you t’keep this place clean. Cook meals, do laundry, that sort of thing.” He paused, looking at her critically. “M’not home most of the day, and when I am I’m usually in my workshop. It’s the building out to the side that you saw.” He clasped his hands together. “We don’t need to have a ton of interaction. I need you to keep the fire stoked, maybe feed Ash for me if I get back late. I don’t have a lot of rules, but I ask you to respect my space.”

“Uh, alright.” She nodded, taking out her phone to take notes. “I figured the normal house stuff. I…” Her body felt the cringe as she went to ask it. “I haven’t really stoked a fire longer than it’s taken to do a bonfire while camping so, if there’s some sort of magic you know to keep it going longer I’d love to know it.” The girl didn’t want to fuck it up. The man worked with wood. The last thing she wanted to do was waste it.

It did make her a little unsettled to hear the other part, though. “Um, and what do you mean exactly by not needing to interact? Like, you don’t want to see or hear from me?”

Harry paused, his gaze sharpening a little on the girl. He was used to being alone. He liked being alone. He didn’t want to come home to some sort of chatty roommate. “I mean exactly that.” He said gruffly.

“Oh.” She replied quietly, swallowing the lump on her throat. Her gaze averted when his sharpened on hers, looking towards her lap. He was a little intimidating and she felt embarrassed for some reason- but logically she knew she hadn’t done anything wrong. Didn’t mean her body knew that, though.

“O-Okay. I’ll make sure to give you your space.” Her head nodded, convincing herself it would be good for her. Maybe akin to rejection therapy. She had hoped for something a little different, but this was the escape she had needed- she couldn’t complain. “Can you tell me what kind of foods you like, or don’t, so I can make what you’ll eat?”

Harry grunted, his expression relaxing slightly at the mention of food. He hated being bothered with small talk, but food was something he could appreciate- it was part of her job, anyways. He could talk abojt that. “I like meat and potatoes. Steak, roast chicken, mashed potatoes, that sort of thing. Don’t bother with fancy shit. Just straightforward, hearty food.”

He paused, thinking for a moment before continuing. “And coffee. Black coffee. None of that fancy latte crap. Just straight up coffee.” He stood up, stretching his arms over his head. “That’s all you need to know for now. You can start preparing dinner and I’ll be back later.”

“Oh! I… are you sure?” She stood up too, following him. “Where should I put my things?” Part of her felt a little nervous she had fucked up with how fast he seemed to want to get out of there, but she didn’t know what she could have done to offend him. Was this just the way he was? Probably. She shouldn’t take it personally- but part of her did, just a bit. “I don’t know which room I should set my things up in.”

Harry turned around, his expression still stern. “You can set up in the spare room down the hall. It’s the first door on the right.” He pointed down the hallway before continuing. “I don’t need any help with my things. Just worry about your own shit for now.”

Her eyes fell down towards the floor, nodding at his words. It must just be the way he was, she concluded. He didn’t bother saying goodbye as she heard the door close, the ticking of the large grandfather clock in the den the only sound until the start of his pickup was muffled outside.

Who the hell was this man? And what had she gotten herself into?

[syverse]

i depend on you // ft. katsuki bakugou

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

bakugou can't bring himself to hate you, even after you left

warnings&a/n: if this is bad LEAVE ME ALONE PLEASE!!! got suddenly verrrry inspired by that one drawing on tiktok and maybe i misinterpreted it in the writing but shoot me who cares. this is like my first time writing something and actually finishing it i get so discouraged and give up. if you hate this i will never do this again.

In his life, there's a lot of things that Bakugou hates. He hates simple and unavoidable things like the rain, and he hates specific things like people who rely on everybody around them. He hates weak people, hates getting up too early in the morning, hates being too involved in other people's lives if he doesn’t necessarily have to be. But, as he sits alone at his desk, forced to listen to the obnoxious and overbearing sounds of society in Tokyo despite how late it is, Bakugo can’t think of anything he hates more than you. 

He spent a lot of his life loving you. He loved things like your unwavering conviction to do the right thing, he loved the look in your eyes when you stole glances from each other during class dinner back when you were both in highschool, and loved the way you whispered his name like a prayer when it was just the two of you under the covers of your shared bed. It was hard at first, but as the two of you grew together, so did his love. He learned to love through the sound of your laughter and the feeling of your gentle hands intertwining with his. Nimble fingers pressing into the palms of his hands before flipping them over and placing feather-like kisses on his fingerprints, he tries to swallow the bile that claws its path up his throat.  

Along with the symphony of nightlife outside of his agency, he can also pick out the faint sound of a news reporter being broadcasted on a billboard next to his building. Pictures of your face are shown on the large screen, along with the headline “PRO HERO TURNED VILLAIN” and Bakugou holds his breath for as long as he can. His phone lay flat on his desk in front of him, buzzing every few seconds from concerned friends and family members, but the blonde doesn’t dare to touch it. It had been at least a week since your departure from his agency, and the news had spread to all of Japan at this point, but the news and media were still eating it alive as if they were starving. 

Bakugou’s eyes glue shut as he wishes for memories of you to disappear, and for the heavy dread in his gut to fizz up and die out. He curses himself for not picking up on it sooner, the fact that you would leave. Looking back on it, he’s pretty sure he could put his finger on the exact moment when you started to fade away. When the universe in your eyes started to blur each time you looked at him, when the sense behind your touch became hesitant instead of gentle, and when your cheeks no longer touched your eyes when you smiled. He should’ve said something. Should’ve done a lot of things to at least delay your disappearance, but Bakugo was familiar with the fact that he was never good with words, and the fact that his heart was bottomless with fear of him making it worse. 

Bakugou absolutely hates you for leaving him here. He hates that he can’t throw every single I love you that came out of his mouth into a little box and set it to ashes, hates that he has to go back to home and still smell you on his bedsheets, hates that even though you’ve made it clear that you’re never coming back, he still patiently waits with bated breath to hear you whisper his name again.  So, as Katsuki picks himself off of his desk and drags himself to the elevator to return back his house, his house where you don't live anymore, he tries to convince himself to forget you, and ignores the way his tongue instinctively traces the letters of your name on the roof of his mouth.

[dulcescorderitas]

𝓬𝓵𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓹𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓯𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓲𝓷𝓯𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓭 C.Kent

author's note: im going to start put warnings on my posts!

warnings: 18+, smut

the fortress of solitude felt colder than usual, though clark wasn’t sure if it was the endless arctic winds or the icy glares you’d been shooting his way since he brought you here. your normally warm, witty demeanor was gone, replaced by a biting edge that he didn’t recognize and definitely didn’t appreciate.

“this is the best you’ve got, boy scout?” you sneered, your arms crossed over your chest. “you fly me to your crystal igloo because what—your big alien brain couldn’t figure out how to handle this on your own?”

clark sighed, his patience wearing thin. “you’re not yourself,” he said, his voice measured but firm. “whatever infected you is messing with your emotions. i’m trying to help you, but you’re making it pretty damn difficult.”

“oh, boo-fucking-hoo,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. “you don’t like that i’m not worshipping you like the rest of metropolis? guess what, superman—you’re not as perfect as you think you are.”

the venom in your words stung, but clark kept his composure. he’d seen you infected before—by kryptonite, mind control, even magic—but this was different. you weren’t just angry. you were downright mean, and it was getting under his skin in a way that made him both frustrated and... unsettled.

his gaze flicked over your body, searching for any physical signs of the infection. your skin glowed faintly, a sheen of sweat catching the fortress’s cool light. the labored rise and fall of your chest was rhythmic but heavy, as if your body was fighting itself from the inside out.

“i need to run a scan,” clark said, his voice steady despite the turmoil brewing inside him.

“oh, do you?” you snapped, stepping closer, your lips curling into a smirk. “go ahead, scan away, mr. perfect. maybe you’ll find out i’m too much woman for you to handle.”

his jaw tightened, but he forced himself to ignore your taunts. he guided you toward the kryptonian scanner, his large hands surprisingly gentle despite the tension. you didn’t resist, but you made it clear you weren’t going to make things easy.

“you know,” you said, your voice low and sultry, “maybe i don’t want to be cured. maybe i like feeling this free, this... wild. ever think of that, farm boy?”

clark stepped back, trying to ignore the way your tone sent an unexpected jolt through him. his fingers moved over the console as the scanner activated, its blue light bathing you in an otherworldly glow.

“there,” he muttered, his brow furrowing as the screen displayed the results. a foreign substance, glowing faintly red, was coursing through your bloodstream. it wasn’t kryptonite, but it was definitely kryptonian in origin.

“whatever it is, it’s amplifying your emotions,” clark said, his voice calm but firm. “we need to purge it from your system.”

“oh, yeah? and how exactly do you plan to do that?” you challenged, stepping closer, your breath brushing against his cheek. “gonna lecture it out of me? because that’s all you’re good for, isn’t it? being a self-righteous boy scout?”

his patience snapped, but instead of retreating, he leaned in, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours. “you want to know how i’m going to get it out of you?” his voice dropped, his usual warmth replaced by something darker, more commanding. “i’m going to use every bit of strength i have to break its hold on you. and when i’m done, you’re going to remember exactly who you are.”

your smirk faltered, but only for a moment. “big talk for someone who can’t handle a little attitude,” you shot back, though your voice wavered.

clark didn’t respond. instead, he closed the distance between you in an instant, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed you back against one of the fortress’s crystalline walls. his touch was firm but not rough, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke.

“this isn’t you,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. “but if this is what it takes to bring you back, then so be it.”

his words sent a shiver down your spine, your defiance faltering for the first time. before you could muster another snarky remark, his lips were on yours—hot, demanding, and relentless. he kissed you like he was trying to break the infection’s hold with sheer force, his tongue parting your lips to claim you completely.

you gasped into his mouth, the fiery anger in your veins starting to twist, morph, into something just as hot but far more desperate. his hands moved with purpose, sliding down your body to grip your thighs, lifting you effortlessly against the wall.

“clark—” your voice wavered, caught between a plea and a growl.

“trust me,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough, almost commanding.

his hands slid between your thighs, spreading them wide as his fingers found the slick heat pooling there. he didn’t hesitate, his touch firm and deliberate, his fingers stroking over your clit with a precision that made your head fall back against the crystal wall.

your body betrayed you, hips bucking against his hand as his touch grew more insistent. his thumb circled your clit while his fingers slid lower, teasing your entrance before pushing inside with maddening skill.

“you’re fighting it,” he said, his lips brushing against your ear as his fingers curled inside you, pressing against a spot that sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body. “don’t. let go.”

your hands clawed at his shoulders, your nails digging into the fabric of his suit as he worked you with an intensity that was almost overwhelming. his fingers moved faster, his thumb pressing harder against your clit, the rhythm of his movements building a pressure inside you that felt impossible to contain.

“clark, i—” your voice broke, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

“let it out,” he commanded, his voice steady, unwavering. “all of it.”

and then it happened. the pressure inside you shattered, a blinding wave of release that ripped through your body, leaving you trembling in his arms. your vision blurred, your cries echoing through the fortress as your body convulsed, slick heat spilling onto his hand as he coaxed every last drop from you.

“that’s it,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost soothing. his fingers slowed, drawing out your release until you were spent, your body sagging against him.

the red glow in your eyes faded, replaced by the warmth and softness he knew so well. as you came back to yourself, clark held you close, his hand cradling the back of your head as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“you’re okay,” he said, his voice filled with relief. “i’ve got you.”

you looked up at him, your cheeks flushed, your lips trembling. “clark... i—”

“don’t,” he interrupted, his lips quirking into a faint smile. “you’ve been through enough. just let me take care of you.”

and for once, you did.

[yuikomorii]

do we think that yui fell first and it was ayato that fell harder or do we think that it was ayato that fell first and yui that fell harder? 🤔 this has been on my mind for years and i've never came to a definite answer

// OKAY, LET’S GET THIS STARTED—

Yui definitely fell for Ayato first in HDB. From the start, she kept calling him cute and imagining them as friends. After Ayato gave her her first REAL kiss, she began picturing them as lovers, and he kept giving her more of that "cuteness aggression" that only deepened her feelings. Ayato, on the other hand, seemed to start falling for her after waking up from a nightmare, when Yui willingly offered him her blood and confessed that she actually enjoyed it. By the end of HDB, Ayato definitely loves Yui, but it’s clear she fell harder for him, especially given the things she does in the After Story.

Anyway, as for MB, we’re not sure who exactly fell for the other first. All we know, based on his route description, is that they both had feelings for each other even before the Mukamis arrived.

“With the appearance of the Mukami brothers targeting the heroine Yui, the bond between the two who have feelings for each other becomes even more intense. Ayato, who desires her heart, not just as prey, hides his painful feelings behind his rough words and actions.”

I think it was pretty clear that Yui fell for Ayato the fastest, since in the second chapter, after taking the truth, she confessed to him. Ayato also seemed happy when Yui asked for his kisses and bites there, so it’s pretty obvious he had feelings for her too. I also remember a scene from one of the earlier chapters where a classmate gave Yui two cinema tickets, and she wanted Ayato to go with her. Even though Ayato claimed to dislike movies, he was still willing to go with her. It’s clear he liked Yui; if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have done something he wasn’t interested in.

The problem with his MB route lies in how Yui constantly objectified him and pushed him to return her feelings, without ever considering his struggles. I also understand that Ayato’s past gave him trust issues, leading him to the belief that "I won’t make anyone special again because they won’t reciprocate my feelings." His intense bloodlust, likely worsened by the fig curse, pushed him to the edge too. But honestly, it was sooo tiring to watch. It felt like it was the same scenario over and over again, and I can't help but think that everything could have been resolved if they just COMMUNICATED earlier. Yet, I suppose the writer wasn’t feeling inspired when they wrote that route. 🤷🏼‍♀️

As for the After Story, sorry not sorry, but it’s undeniably the best-written one in the entire franchise. The way Ayato went to university for Yui, despite the deep trauma studying caused him, was incredibly moving. He didn’t pressure her to get a job; instead, he wanted to surprise her by building a good future for both of them, which I find really admirable. It’s also heartwarming how Yui continuously praised Ayato and helped him with his studies. In the Vampire Ending, she waited years for him to wake up from the coma, and all those years he kept searching for her in his dreams, therefore in the end, they both fell deeply in love with each other.

On top of that, there’s this official short story, where Ayato mentions not remembering when he started liking Takoyaki but then Yui rizzes him up with this confession:

Translated by Koiiro

In conclusion: They’re both down bad for each other, lol.

[moonshynecybin]

honeysuckle: how our love unites enemies

honeysuckle:

scream okay i just edited some of airport au before getting these so it was rattling around in my head. and this ask made me think it would be funny if casey stoner showed up. so here. bad comedy. for those who do not remember last we left marc “the weirdest rumor i ever heard about myself was that i was gay” marquez, he had just had a sex dream about valentino rossi, who has recentlyish decided to be his friend again. as you can imagine he’s a bit confused about all this:

Marc decides that he should probably avoid Valentino for a while, after a dream like that. Get some distance and get his head on straight.

The problem is, Valentino apparently very much does not want to avoid Marc.

It’s in the chaos of the flyaways, that long slog at the end of the season, and Marc doesn’t have anything to prove at this point except for all the different things that he does, and it’s Phillip Island, a track where he can make a difference. He knows he has an opportunity where he can really sink his teeth into something here.

All said, it’s his favorite track, he’s looking forward to the weekend— and he’s really looking forward to approximately 9,000 miles between him and Valentino Rossi and his long fingers.

Which of course means that when he wheels around a corner on his scooter that Friday, he doesn’t expect to see Vale standing next to the media center with a day old scruff decorating the cut of his jaw and Casey goddamn Stoner bitching away about aero at his elbow.

Marc, shocked and in his raincoat, applies the brake to his scooter in an acute fashion and skids a little, motocross style.

Vale, under his neon yellow umbrella and always attracted to the sound of screeching rubber, sees him.

He starts walking.

Horrifically, Casey follows.

Marc smiles.

“I’ve been cornered.”

“Put your hands up in the name of the law,” Vale says in a terrible imitation of a cowboy, and then greets him. “Ah, you are ready for tomorrow?”

Marc nods before he can tell his neck what to do.

“Looks like no practice today, and more rain,” What would he normally say to Valentino. Well, normally he wouldn’t say anything. So that’s probably not a viable strategy.

“That’s good for you, yes?” Vale says, blue eyes intent on him, like he’s genuinely interested.He steps close to Marc, including him under his umbrella, and Marc tightens his fingers hard on the handlebars of the scooter. “Less practice for others and then— with the rain, easier to catch? A left-hand circuit, so you have more room to outpace the factory bikes.”

Casey, walking slowly, arrives in time to catch the tail end of Vale’s statement, and his eyebrows twitch up, gaze ping-ponging back and forth between them.

Marc waves.

Vale, though blunt, is not wrong, and Marc will take a win in the wet of it comes to that, but the forecast clears as the weekend progresses, and the thing he’s really missing so far this year is a clean win. No wet, no sand, just him and the motorcycle and everyone else behind him. The GP23, despite being unequivocally weaker after he exploded in Indonesia and they removed his improved flywheel, is still a bike that he has enough experience on that he can use his style a bit more and manipulate it the way he needs to, so the parts change hasn’t made too much of an impact on his pace. Plus, this is also one of Pecco’s more mediocre tracks, something he knows that Vale knows but will never say to Marc. Honestly, if it’s not for Pecco or the floundering VR46 team squad (unlikely), he has no idea why Vale is here. Maybe Casey invited him to do some dirt track.

He opens his mouth to twist all this into something shiny enough that it can be outwardly verbalized to two other world champions when Casey, so far neglected by Vale, speaks.

“Wow. You know, I really didn’t believe it.”

They pause.

“That you two had made up again, I mean,” He throws a thumb Vale’s way. “I thought this one would take it to his grave, he’s good at that.”

Marc hits him with a weak smile and Vale doesn’t even look over, eyes still on Marc and whatever he sees on his face.

Casey seems to notice, and a divot appears between his eyebrows. Marc scrambles to find something to say that will make this interaction end in the next ten seconds.

“Um, so what convinced you that he wasn’t evil?” Casey asks. So much for that dream.

“Same thing that convinced me that you weren’t,” Vale quips.

“Jury’s still out, then?”

Vale puts a hand on Marc’s shoulder and laughs at Casey beatifically. “Ah, no. Maybe he is just prettier than you? Better in bed, you know.”

Marc laughs, high and shrill, and Casey and Vale both turn to look at him.

“Okay, Marc?” Casey asks, and Marc nods. It’s a normal joke— it’s the kind Vale’s made before. About him, about Jorge Lorenzo, probably about Casey. If 20 year old Marc were here right now, he would just be thrilled that Vale was teasing Casey and using Marc to do it. That idiot would sit here and smile and think about women when he went home to jack off and go on with his day. No such pleasures for 31 year old Marc.

He swallows. He hasn’t responded quick enough. Vale’s eyes narrow, and Marc feels horribly exposed. He’s gotta get out of here.

“Yeah, yeah. Something in my throat, you know? Gresini— uh, they need me in the box, I have to go over something. For tomorrow, the sprint. So. I should go. It was nice seeing you both, I’ll see you later— “

He punches the gas, and as they scramble away from the scooter to avoid getting any toes caught in the crossfire, he zooms away before he can hear their responses.

When Vale’s hand slides off of Marc’s shoulder as he accelerates, the places where his fingers touched Marc burn all the way back to the garage.

[anunusualsiren]

"Uh, yeah. because I'm new to this town. Everything, and also practically everyone, here is unfamiliar to me. I pretty much know nothing and it's all so overwhelming... I get into my head a lot." He admitted, using that as a way to end what he was saying there before he ended up going into a full on ramble. The other male's response he got to what he had said about his boss caught him off guard, which was visible on his face. "Huh... That's an...interesting way to look at it." He simply said and left it at that.

Despite hearing him say it was sometimes best not to overthink, Brodie actually started thinking. Although that more so had to do with the other things that were said to him about him thinking to come here. So it took a moment of silence on his end before he spoke again. "I suppose you're right. I don't know. I just...sometimes tend to second guess things. Especially when I'm, again, overwhelmed like I am now. Like, was a bar really the best place for a new guy in town to wind down? I thought so at first, but it's clear now that didn't take everything into account. Like me being a personal trainer as you pointed out. However, you also do bring up good points. So I guess me staying isn't really an issue."

Wes smiled at that. "And do you know why you are nervous?" He asked him. It was true that the other reeked of it. He didn't fully understand why. He didn't even think the guy was attracted to him, at least not yet. He stopped himself from trying to figure Brodie out. It might as well give him a headache. "It is fine. I'm getting paid and that's all that matters." And it did bring good tips on of that, which he hoped Brodie would provide despite his comment about alcohol. "Does it matter? You are not hurting yourself nor anybody else. Sometimes is best not to overthink things. Life is tough enough already."

[dadsbongos]

851 words. jimmy wants to kill your mom for you ~~~

Have you ever wanted someone dead?

Jimmy has -does- and it burns him up from the inside. This time hotter than the rest because last time he said it out loud he had a beer bottle thrown at the back of his head. 

Even now something in the back of his throat won’t let him get it out, despite the closest object to you being a tinky black remote. So he watches, silently, as you fold one arm over the over across your chest and bare down the woman that bore you. 

Beneath scratchy teal sheets pulled up to her chin, she sweats simply sleeping. Over those sheets run thin clear tubes, looping around the back of her head and pumping up her nostrils with crisp air. A white slat is pulled over her lap, plastic cups painted with brown and yellow mush streaks littered over it. Spoons drying into each bowl. Jimmy would never be able to guess how much each little scrap is running on your wallet, and he doesn’t care to… or at least tries to tell himself he doesn’t.

Unfortunately, it’s all he thinks about. 

Centered in his chest, just a skosh right of his heart and way above his gut, is that burning sensation telling him the same things over and over. With every visit, the whispering gets louder.

Your mother had insurance, but he’s seen you bent over the kitchen table mumbling about hospital bills either way. Not to mention, with the sour way things look, funeral bills eventually.

“She’s sleeping,” he bites, boot clacking impatiently on the linoleum. 

“I know,” tone firm enough to tell him everything you didn’t say. Conversation fizzles out there for now.

Jimmy knows. You know. Nurses know.

Without that tank clicking oxygen into her chest, she’s gone -- maybe a brief sputter, the final kickback of a motor skimming the bottom barrel for oil, but she’ll die. 

If Jimmy meandered over to the other side of the bed where you weren’t able to see, and if he pinched the tube between thumb and forefinger long enough then she probably wouldn’t even rouse to fight. Twitch, maybe.

You’re better for it, if he does.

He asked you once why you’re trying so hard, pushing so fiercely and more stubbornly than he knows you’ve pushed anything (i thought you hated the old bitch). You just told him to mind his business (fuck you, jimmy, that’s my mother).

Suddenly, you take a step back and shudder, wiping both hands down the length of your face and sniffling, “I gotta pee.”

Red eyes peek at him from between stiff fingers, cracked apart over your cheeks. Bent brows and wobbling lips. You’re not gonna piss, you’re gonna scream into your hands and cry. Which he’s sure the hospital bathrooms see more of than any other fluid.

Jimmy blinks up at you. If you’re going to the bathroom you’re not here.

“Don’t fall in,” he mumbles.

Nodding and patting him on the shoulder as you pass, Jimmy can see the tear glittering down your lashes before you make it out. As soon as your body’s faded from view, and your footsteps fall a little quieter than before: he’s up on his feet. Dirt-stained sneakers cake across the waxy floors, squeaking right up beside your mother.

Brown eyes flick up between the steel door frame once before he’s reaching down for the clear tube -- hesitating inches away, just long enough to visualize his mugshot on the news.

Euthanasia is only legal in dogs, he thinks. Technically, even though she’s got all the conversational skills of broccoli and lays here like a metal beam, this is murder. Could probably get him locked away for the rest of his life. Put behind rusty bars with gnarly types: real murderers, the kinds that decapitate and cut their girls open. Jimmy wouldn’t do that to you, he just wants to kill your mom.

Make your life a little easier.

Her still sucking wind through these flimsy pipes is draining your savings. Gray hairs scattered across your pillow, at this rate the stress of her being alive is going to put you into the grave. Every crash like this is always preceded by her spontaneous burst of good health; she’ll run a marathon just to end up in the ER next month. Pushing and pulling, snuffing out hope just as it flourishes. 

The bipolarity isn’t good for your health. Neither would be having your boyfriend arrested for Mom’s murder.

So he steps on the tube with his foot instead. Shirking hard on the toes to make sure all that sweet air pinches right the fuck off.

Just as he thought, she doesn’t pop up. Barely scrunches that wrinkled, angry face before the twitching starts. First at her shoulders concentrating around the chest, then her legs, and then her hands. Cinching around thin teal sheets like they could do anything for her. They don’t even keep out the cold.

Getting the final act of bereavement finished will be better for you, he knows that. In a weird way, he’s just trying to help.

[hyunjiiniw]

*ੈ✩ (현진)

FLOWERS?

after your ex cheated on you and you cried to your friend hyunjin,there were flowers at your door when you hang up.

────────────────────

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✩ friend!hyunjin fem!reader ONESHOT,open-ending,just friends,cute,comforting,fluff,teasing and confessing.

✩ hyunjiniw’s note decided to not put a label on what they finally ended up to be or will be,it’s all up to your imagination considering it’s oneshot,i got mad at myself too when i wrote this and let it end like that,not doing a closed-ending,but i hope you’ll enjoy!

✩ happy reading to you <3

────────────────────

the moment my phone slipped from my trembling hands, i crumbled onto my bed. the weight of my chest felt unbearable, as though every ounce of air had been sucked from the room.

my cheeks were streaked with tears, and my throat was raw from sobbing.

i couldn't believe it.

i’ve seen the proof-clear, undeniable proof. messages i was never supposed to see. pictures i couldn't unsee. my boyfriend of two years had cheated on me.

and now, all i felt was hollow.

the first person i thought to call wasn't my family or even my closest girl friend. it was hyunjin.

hyunjin, who'd been my friend since high school. hyunjin, who always had a way of making me feel seen. hyunjin, who i’d once sworn to myself that i’d never fall for. i couldn't ruin what i had with him, no matter how many times my heart betrayed me.

i hadn't told him about the cheating yet,i only managed to choke out the words "i need you." and, like always, hyunjin came through.

the screen lit up, signaling his incoming call. i swiped to answer, my voice barely above a whisper.

"hey," he said gently. "talk to me. what's going on?"

my voice cracked on the first word. "he-" i sucked in a shaky breath. "he cheated on me,hyun. i saw the messages. the pictures. it’s over."

silence.

not the awkward kind, but the kind that felt heavy, like he was trying to process what i’d just told him.

"y/n," he said softly, and his voice broke something in me. "i’m so sorry."

the sincerity in his tone undid me. i started crying again, the sobs shaking my entire body.

"i don't get it," i hiccupped. "was i not enough? was i... too much? how could he do this to me,hyun? after everything—after everything—“

"hey, no," he interrupted, his voice firm but still comforting. "don't do that. don't you dare blame yourself for his garbage decisions. you're incredible,y/n. if he couldn't see that, it's his loss."

i sniffled, trying to catch my breath. "it doesn't feel like his loss. it feels like mine."

"you haven't lost anything," hyunjin said, and the conviction in his words made me pause. "if anything, you've gotten rid of someone who didn't deserve you. and now, you have space for someone who does."

his words felt like a balm on my wounded heart, but the ache still lingered. "you really think so?"

"i know so," he said without hesitation. "you’re one of the most amazing people i know,y/n. anyone would be lucky to have you."

i tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. "you’re just saying that because you're my friend."

"no,i’m saying it because it's true."

i didn't know what to say to that, so i let the silence stretch between us. it wasn't uncomfortable-just... quiet.

after a while, hyunjin spoke again, his voice softer this time. "i wish i could be there with you right now."

"me too," i admitted, fresh tears prickling at the corners of my eyes.

"tell you what," he said, his tone lightening. "put on your favorite show, grab a blanket, and pretend i’m sitting next to you, making sarcastic comments about everything"

a laugh bubbled up despite myself. "that actually sounds nice."

"good. because you deserve nice things,y/n. don’t forget that, okay?"

"i’ll try," i said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"you’re gonna be okay," he promised. "i’ll check in tomorrow, yeah?"

"yeah," i agreed, feeling the faintest spark of hope.

when i hung up, the weight in my chest felt a little lighter. but the emptiness still lingered.

i hadn't expected much for the rest of the evening-just the quiet comfort of my blankets and the distraction of my favorite show. so,when the doorbell rang not fifteen minutes later, i froze.

cautiously, i made my way to the door, wiping my cheeks to look somewhat presentable. when i opened it, my breath caught in my throat.

sitting on my doorstep was a bouquet of flowers.

not just any flowers.they were my favorites-soft, pastel blooms wrapped in crisp white paper, tied with a delicate ribbon. my hands trembled as i picked them up, noticing the small card tucked inside.

i unfolded it, my heart pounding as i read the familiar, neat handwriting.

"because you deserve beautiful things, even on the ugliest days. -hyunjin"

my knees nearly gave out.

clutching the flowers to my chest, i sank onto the floor, tears streaming down my face. but these weren't tears of sadness. they were something else entirely-gratitude, warmth, something, that felt achingly close to love.

hyunjin had always been there for me. through every heartbreak, every failure, every joy.but this... this was different.

it was a reminder that even in my darkest moments, someone saw me . someone cared enough to remind me of my worth.

i stared at the flowers for what felt like forever, the petals soft and vibrant against my fingertips. the scent was delicate and sweet, wrapping around me like a gentle hug.

for the first time that night, i felt something other than heartbreak.

i felt hope.

[halfwayhearted]

HII, you could make a Lamine fic, where he's jealous of another player because you're a fan of the other team and that player. that it's something with a lot of silliness, and fluff at the end

By the way, I love the way you write 💋

(Isn’t It) Obvious — Lamine Yamal.

Pairing: Lamine Yamal x Fem!Reader

Summary: The moment you mention a team you support and your ‘favorite’ (…) player, the boy is instantly on you about it.

Word Count: 410+

Disclaimer/s — None I can think of…

A/N: Idk how I didn’t get to this request sooner, I loved this???

You quite honestly didn’t think that accidentally mentioning another team you were a fan of would lead to this: Lamine asking you question after question about the team and, to his dismay, your favorite player. Which wasn’t even your favorite player; all you said was that you enjoyed seeing what he brought to the match. That’s it. That’s all.

Yet here you were, both of your brows pinched.

“I really don’t understand what you’re doing,” you voiced softly, pulling your knees up to your chest.

Your boyfriend ignores you. “When did you start liking them? Or, sorry, nevermind, I have a better question, when did you start liking your player?”

That elicits a groan from your mouth. “I—excuse me? My player? This conversation has officially reached its max stupidity status. First of all, he is not my player. Second of all, all I said was that I was invested in how he plays. He’s literally new!”

“It’s basically the same thing if you think about it.”

“Then stop thinking about it, you idiot. Sit down and watch. That’s all I’m asking—he is not my favorite player, you already know who mine is.”

Lamine lets out a small huff, plops down beside you, and slides his arm around your curled-up legs, resting it on your calf. “I don’t. Who is it?”

“Don’t play coy and humble. Come on, answer it.”

Letting a smirk slowly take over his features, he clears his throat before responding, “Is it me?”

You click your tongue. “What? Not you. It’s Balde.”

Just as he’s about to stand up, you’re quick to grab his arm. A laugh bubbles out of you. “I’m kidding! I’m just kidding! I’m messing with you, Lamine. Of course it’s you. Always, I promise.”

“Not funny at all,” he grumbled, settling back into his seat. Despite his words, you can tell he’s not truly upset; the smile on his lips gives him away.

“Did I get you? Actually, no, I so got you. I know.”

With feigned annoyance, he gently pushes you. “Good to know I’m the only one who’s humble.”

Your smile only widens at the slight shove, and then you’re leaning into him, patting his thigh. “Hey, I played it well! Maybe one day you can get me back.” You pause, then frown. “Actually, maybe don’t get me back. Yeah. Uh, thanks…”

Flickering his gaze over to you, he chuckles and rolls his eyes. “Uh-huh. Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @planetpedri + @spidybaby + @iovepoem + @sakashq + @joaoflms ! ౨ৎ

[fortytworedvines]

I'd love no. 1 for the drabble prompts

Have a good day (despite having to work) 😊

Urgh, work. Thanks for the prompt!

Drabble list - send me a number!

1. “I know you're hurt."

Set sometime in 5.5 or before 5.6

“I’m going to visit Miss Grantley,” Siegfried announced over breakfast. “I’m staying to lunch, no need to prepare anything for me, Mrs Hall.”

Mrs Hall nodded. “Will you be home for dinner?”

“Probably,” Siegfried said cheerfully.

Tristan watched the exchange while he munched on his toast. Siegfried was bouncy – always chirpy when there was a new lady love on the scene. Mrs Hall though – Tristan had spotted the shuttered, blank look that had flickered over her face when Siegfried said where he was going. He noted the way her lips were pressed together, just a fraction. The careful steadiness of her voice when she asked if he’d be home for dinner.

Siegfried departed, whistling.

Mrs Hall cleared the table around Tristan, shooting him an amused glance as he continued to eat as the plates disappeared.

A little while later, washed and dressed and ready for the day, Tristan looked for their housekeeper. The breakfast conversation was playing on his mind and he was tallying it with other things he’d seen and been told of over the past year. He was almost certain he’d come to the right conclusion.

She wasn’t in the house. Eventually, he found her in the yard, beating a carpet ferociously.

Her eyes darted towards him but she didn’t say anything, just continued hitting the carpet with a strength that made him wonder.

Finally, he spoke. “I know you’re hurt.”

“Hurt?” her voice was breathy. “Why should I be hurt?”

“Because of my brother, and Miss Grantley.”

She lowered the carpet beater and turned to face him, expressionless. “What your brother does is really no business of mine, Tris.”

“You care for him,” Tris said.

“Of course. I’m his housekeeper. His friend.”

“I think you care for him in more than those ways.”

Now the carpet beater fell to the floor. “What do you want me to say, Tris?” she demanded.

“The truth?” he pushed.

“That I love him? That I gave up the chance of a life, a family of my own, with a good man, because I love your brother and could never love Gerald in the way that he deserves? That seeing him go after Miss Grantley is tearing me apart? Is that what you want me to say?”

The torrent of words left her panting and Tris could see tears in her eyes. He hated himself for putting them there. What had possessed him? A desire to know that he was right?

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

His apology seemed to bring her back to herself and she stared at him, horrified. “Tris – you mustn’t – you mustn’t say anything. To anybody.” She pressed her hands to her face. “It’s…” She trailed off.

Tris fell back to the old standby. “I’ll put the kettle on, shall I?”

He made them both a cup of tea and, seated at their kitchen table, her hands around her cup, Mrs Hall seemed more herself.

“I’m sorry for putting that all on you,” she said.

“I’m sorry for asking.”

“It’s just – you’re right.” She ran a hand over her hair. “It’s – hard. I am hurting. After Gerald…” She sighed.

“What happened there?” Tris asked curiously. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to say. I heard a few things from the others.”

“I nearly left,” Mrs Hall mused. “I handed in my notice. I hurt your brother terribly and doing that hurt me too.”

“Why didn’t you?”

She sipped her tea. “Because – what I put him through, your brother, I mean, I hated doing it. I love him,” she said simply. “I love all of you. He has half my heart and you all, Skeldale, Darrowby, you have the other half.”

“Charming,” Tris muttered.

She laughed then, the first brightness he’d seen in her eyes all day. “You are an awful boy,” she said fondly. “All of you, together, and Gerald on the other side. He’s a good man, a kind man.” She sighed again. “I could have been happy with him. But he loved me, and I – I love Siegfried.”

Tristan gazed at her, wondering how much of herself she hid from all of them.

The way his brother’s given name fell from her lips made Tristan’s heart turn over.

“I stayed because I wanted to, because giving Gerald the tiny portion of my heart I have spare would have hurt him more in the end. I stayed because I love Siegfried and being in his life in any way at all is better than nothing.”

“I’m not unhappy,” she added sharply. “I love my life here, I love you all. Seeing little Jimmy grow up is a precious gift.”

“But?” he sensed it coming.

“I thought… maybe things would change. Between Siegfried and me, when I stayed.”

Tris could feel every ounce of longing from her. With a lump in his throat, he stretched his hand over the table and held it firmly. “I know it’s no consolation, Mrs H,” he said, “but he’s a mad bastard and you’re far too good for him.”

She smiled at him through watery eyes. “As I said, you’re an awful boy, Tris. And thank you. For this.” She gripped his hand. “It was good to talk about it.”

[dumbikawa]

Drunkenly Confessing to Suna

GN!Reader | Fluff | Warnings: Alcohol Consumption

Characters: Suna

A/n: I haven't written in so long so I hope this is good, still a Suna simp for life

Jealousy is one hell of a drug, you think as you watch the girl laugh at whatever Suna just said, jokingly smacking him on the arm with a coy smile. The whole thing made your stomach lurch, yet you didn’t look away. He doesn’t try to move away as she continues to find excuses to lean further into him until she’s essentially using him as a support pole. It’s not like the two of you are together or anything seeing as he’s still as clueless as ever. Regardless, the feelings swirling around in your gut just won’t let up.

“This is your time to march up to him and tell him how you feel,” Atsumu muses, following your spiteful gaze to the cuddly pair. Suna and the girl wandered into the crowd and began dancing to whatever pop song was currently playing. “If you’re not gonna do that then may I suggest, at least, stop torturing yourself and come dance with me. Our moves will be exceedingly better than whatever that is.” Despite the hollow feeling in your chest, you manage a genuine laugh at his attempt to cheer you up. Taking his advice, you shift your gaze to the blonde boy standing next to you.

“You make it sound so easy,” you huff, resting your head against Atsumu’s shoulder. He hangs an arm around your shoulders, giving it an encouraging squeeze. It’s been a bit since he called you out on your little crush, allowing you to either do something about it as he was suggesting or get over it. Now, you were all in university together and that little crush was still going surprisingly strong. It had been so long that now you had to wonder whether it was worth risking your friendship? Not to mention, potentially messing up the entire group's dynamic if he turned you down. Plus, let’s be honest, how could you compete with these other girls?

“Aye, they’re heading over,” Atsumu warns, dropping his arm back against his side as you shoot up to scan the crowd for Suna. Dread begins to pool in your gut as you do indeed see the pair walking towards you and instead scan the table of alcohol you’d been leaning against for something to dull your senses. You only agreed to go to this stupid party because you deserved a break from the constant studying and to “let loose for a couple of hours” as Atsumu put it. Yet, here you were, sulking over your unattainable crush.

Maybe Atsumu was right, you think as you grab a bottle of clear booze off the table and pour a generous amount into a red solo cup.

“Y/n,” Atsumu warns, wanting to stop you from taking the shot that would surely push you past being just a little tipsy. The alcohol stings as it travels down your throat, becoming borderline unbearable as you force yourself to choke down the last sip remaining drops. Atsumu can only help but watch with a combination of fear and admiration as you grab his hand and saunter to the dance floor, hoping a new found liquid confidence will take over from there.

Suna watches you go, worry overtaking his normally indifferent features. He moves to follow you, but stops himself.  Maybe you were trying to spend some time with Atsumu and it would be weird if he interrupted. Although, the thought of you and Atsumu getting together is more painful than he’d like to admit. The girl he had been talking to drifts away, not getting the reaction she’d hoped for from Suna. He'd tried to be interested, yet his eyes always drifted towards you.

This is going to be a long night, he thinks as watches with envy.

And, oh, what a long night it was. Suna recalls his previous prediction as he rubs soothing circles against your back a few hours later while you position your head in between your knees on the bathroom floor.

“Rinnn, you can’t ever let me drink again. Promise?” you slur in-between deep breaths as you try to soothe the constant spinning of the world around you. All Suna could do was laugh at your babblings of regret and agree to whatever you asked of him under the condition that you take a couple sips of water first.

“Why did you drink so much anyways?” he counters, knowing you’re usually far more reserved when it comes to drinking and partying, in general. Although he isn’t looking for a coherent answer, the question seems to strike a chord with you. You lift your head up with a scoff to shoot him a surprisingly sober as if he was supposed to know.

“You were dancing!” you start, “and she was pretty so I wanted to dance and feel pretty.” He’s only able to make out about half of your slurred words, especially when you grow embarrassed and begin to mumble, but it’s enough to piece together a general idea.

“You could’ve asked me to dance, you know. I would’ve said yes,” Suna murmurs, relieved that you can’t see the bit of blush that was beginning to warm his face. The silence that settles after the statement makes his heart race as he realizes his words were a little too close to that of a confession. Although, maybe you were just too intoxicated to hear what he was saying. “Here, take my jacket,” he offers, noticing the wave of goosebumps racing up your skin, and jumping at the chance to change the topic.

He strips the soft material off his body and gently guides you into it. You bury your face in the fabric as soon as the scent of his cologne hits you, relishing in the warmth and smell that’s become a comfort for you. A smile splits through Suna’s face as you nuzzle into the fabric. He might not even care if you got sick on it. It would be so easy to reach out and--

“What if I make it smell bad?” you gasp suddenly, clumsily pushing the fabric off as if you’d taint it with the strong smell of booze and sweat that engulfed your body. Suna moves towards you quickly, placing his hands on your arms in order to pull the jacket back around you. “No...you go give it to that other girl.” You pull away from him with a huff.

Your quick change in demeanor is like whiplash as he tries to keep up. Although, he can’t deny jealousy was adorable on you.

“You’re the only girl I’d let wear my jacket,” he assures you. “Even if you do reek.” You seem to appreciate his words, despite the small insult you barely catch, and relax back into the fabric.

“That’s why I like you,” you hum, feeling content. “So cute, so nice to me.” If Suna couldn't currently feel the way his heart pounded in his chest then he'd swear it had stopped. He tries not to read too much into your drunken words, but the phrase ‘that’s why I like you’ plays on a loop in his head as he begins coaxing you off the floor to get ready for bed.

By the time he’s convinced you to take some Advil and wash a majority of your makeup off, he feels more than exhausted himself. It's well past four by the time you curl up on to the side of the bed and he lays down opposite you, planning to only close his eyes for a moment. However, as soon as his head hits the pillow he's suddenly surrounded by the smell of that lotion you love and, combined with the alcohol he also indulged in, he's out.

---

“Oh my god,” you groan, waking up to the sunlight streaming into your room being too bright, even behind closed eyes. You move to roll over to the otherside of the bed so that you can lay facing away from the window, but before you can make it that far your outstretched hand comes into contact with a hard, warm object that lets out a soft grunt upon impact.

You force your eyes open just enough for you to realize that drunk you somehow got your crush into bed, which might’ve been impressive if you could remember anything more than a few snippets of what happened the night before.

“Oh my god,” you groan again, this time from mental anguish opposed to physical. Though your body aches all over, you push yourself into a sitting position that sends the world spinning. You bury your face in your hands to hide the rising heat as the possibilities of what conspired last night. Some memories feel just within reach, but the more you focus on them the further they get.

“There’s a bottle of painkillers and a cup of water on the table next to you,” Suna murmurs, his voice husky from sleep, as if you couldn’t feel more flustered right now. You quickly turn further away from him, eagerly throwing back the medicine and entire glass of water. “How do you feel?”

The bed shifts beneath you as he pushes himself up to sit against the back of the bed. The embarrassment you feel continues to skyrocket. There was no telling what you might’ve looked like right now, not to mention you desperately needed a long, contemplative shower.

“I’m sorry, but, uh, did...did we…?” You don’t have to finish the awkward question because Suna has already burst out into a fit of laughter. 

“No, no,” he almost laughs, which somehow makes you feel more embarrassed. “Nothing like that happened. Sorry, I honestly meant to crash on the floor--”

“Thank God,” you sigh, too relieved to care that you cut him off. “That’s fine, I just...ugh.” You drag your hands down your grimey face. You need a shower, to brush your teeth, maybe take about ten more pain killers, and drink three gallons of water to begin flushing out your system. Maybe then you wouldn’t feel like you were on death’s door.

“Okay,” you begin, wanting to quickly sort out what happened last night. “I remember dancing with Atsumu and a couple other people. I remember you and some girl dancing. What happened to her?” Only once it's past your lips do you realize how bitter it sounds.

“I spent the night in your bed and you’re still jealous?” Suna teases.

“Jealous. Still.” You emphasize the words, hoping some memory might pop up that explains it. “Nope, I don’t remember being jealous.”

“Of course,” he counters with a grin.

“What else?” He raises his eyebrow questioningly as you roll your eyes. “What else did I say?” He shrugs, feigning nonchalance.

“Nothing much, just that you liked me because I’m, apparently, cute and nice to you.” He watches for your reaction, hoping to answer some of the questions he was too afraid to ask.

“That’s not as bad as it could have been, I guess,” you respond a moment later, trying to keep your emotions in check under Suna’s intense stare.

“Did you...mean it?” His eyes are no longer teasing as he leans back to put distance between the two of you.

“Of course I like you, Rinnie,” you laugh. He sighs, exasperated. His heart and brain continue to pull in opposite directions at your vague answers. This back and forth wasn’t going anywhere because he didn’t know what to ask and you didn’t know what to say.

You were avoiding his gaze, so he moved closer until the space between the two of you was nearly nonexistent. Your breath hitches in your throat as your eyes are automatically drawn to his lips. It would be so easy to lean forward and kiss him, but you were frozen in place. He places his hand on your hip before quickly pulling it back.

“I’m sorry,” His eyes are so full of longing that you’re sure mirror your own. This scenario has played through your head so many times, imagining the different ways he might whisk you off your feet with a kiss.

“Don’t be,” you venture. To prove it, you bring your hand to the back of his neck and pull him in closer. His hair is soft as you run your fingers through it, attempting to distract yourself from your overwhelming emotions. Could this really be happening?

You had your answer as soon as his lips connected with yours. They're soft and warm. The anxious feeling in your stomach quickly uncoils as he deepens the kiss, moving your body forward to press against his. You run your hand up his toned arm before coming to rest against his collarbone.

His lips curl into a smile against yours as the kiss comes to an end. Neither of you say anything for a moment afterwards, choosing to bask in the quiet before the painful reminder of how much you’d indulged the night before comes pounding back.

“As much as I’d love to keep kissing you, I need to brush my teeth.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to say anything,” Suna laughs before stealing one last kiss.

[scoobydoodean]

reading the notes makes me feel like im missing something about the plucky pennywhistle thing. like people are tagging it "me when i lie" "man i wish dean would tell the truth about his childhood" like. did he lie in the episode? im not saying he didnt i just. am confused. (also unless we are shown what happened, accusing dean or sam of lying about their childhood is presumption, because sam might've perceived it as "trolling for chicks" but maybe dean was hustling pool.

to be clear i do think dean was blowing off steam and flirting with girls because he was a teenager and probably was exhausted about being forced to parent his brother, but the fandom wiki could've also been remembering the fact that there's a mother in the episode who is dumping her kid at plucky's so she can work enough hours, and dean starts defending the mom, so the wiki author misremembered it as "he was working and told sam he was flirting" . reporting that as fact is Not a good idea for a fandom wiki but there's a weird obsession that sam and dean are ontologically liars or truth tellers when sam and dean lie all the time and might be reporting memories inaccurately, but they usually don't when it comes to their childhood.

like "dean did his best to parent sam despite being ill-equipped and a child" and "sam felt very lonely despite dean's persistent presence in his life and dean felt hurt when he found this out, despite this not being either of their faults" can both be true!

like sam literally lies In That Conversation because he doesn't wanna talk about plucky's! he literally says "no i don't remember it". and this is hilarious of him. he's trying to rewrite his own memory in real time i think.

Dean doesn’t seem to quite remember Plucky’s at first.

Likely because Dean really doesn’t remember, he also really doesn’t take offense to Sam’s version of events or argue with him at all? He accepts Sam’s version (that he hated Plucky’s) as soon as Sam says so.

Yeah, when Sam complains that Dean abandoned him there to troll for chicks, Dean says,

“It's not like I left you in jail. I mean, those places are supposed to be fun.”

But that isn’t a denial of how Sam actually felt about the place. It’s a (light-heartedly stated) defense of Dean’s own reasons for leaving him there. He thought it would be fun! If that wasn’t true, surely Dean would have left Sam at the motel and saved himself the time and cash, no? I think the fact that Dean thinks Sam liked it means Dean probably wasn’t paying attention to him at the time, caught up with his own stuff, but I don’t think it makes sense to assume anything other than that, and I think Dean is perfectly willing to accept that he wasn’t really paying attention to what Sam wanted.

Sam’s tone and the content of his complaints when telling Dean how he really felt about Plucky’s also isn’t exactly serious. He reports that Plucky’s was “lame”, “smelled like puke”, and served grainy ice cream. He’s not exactly bringing the real tragedy to the surface here (the kid at Plucky’s with the overworked mom is much more effective at exhibiting the misery of being trapped in a children’s arcade).

The thing is, Dean really isn’t defensive about any of this? He actually just thinks it’s funny. Laughing over the phone with Sam, he says, “What in the world did they do to you?” It’s honestly kind of refreshing that Dean really doesn’t beat himself up about it. Even in the end of the episode when Dean apologizes for ditching Sam, he’s laughing (and then pranks Sam with a clown doll). Maybe that’s what sets them off? That Dean doesn’t “care” enough? Unfortunately for them, Dean was also a child who deserved his own space and was not Sam’s dad.

Totally agree with you that there’s an underlying little narrative here about overworked parents and that a wiki shouldn’t make inferences. And also about Sam and Dean’s differing versions of childhood often making sense from their own perspectives. They can both be right about their own perception.