That Scene Where Cas Died For The 100th Time

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Captain’s Day Off

"Why're you so tired?!"

Tumblr added a shiny new button and I HAVE to press it. You wouldn't understand.

host club twins but make them miya 🌹

bleak

pairing: atsumu miya x gn!reader

w/c: 1280+

warnings: self-hatred, crying, this may be triggering to those who undergo the same condition so please read with discretion. please let me know if i missed anything

genre: reverse hurt/comfort, friends to lovers type beat

summary: atsumu needs to know if there’s anyone out there who doesn’t hate him like himself. 

a/n: i know im not scheduled to post today but i wanted to have this out alr. kind of a shitpost but i like how it turned out. this is lowkey based on myself and my experiences with some family and friends. please message me if you ever need to talk, im here to listen. 

It was no secret to Atsumu that he wasn’t anyone’s favorite. 

It became clear to him when he was a child. All the kids wanted to play with Osamu or his cousins only wanted to play with Osamu and his little sister. Sometimes, the impatience his parents had for him seeped into the air and he could just feel it. Nothing even had to be said. The looks on their faces, the clicking of their tongues, he already knew. 

Well into his teenage years, not a single thing had changed. His parents showed a subtle favoritism to Osamu and his sister. He was never invited to anything but Osamu was. It broke him a little. Now that he was older, Atsumu could really see why. 

Osamu got better grades despite being in the same classes, could control his temper, knew when to speak and what to say, and was a promising athlete. Atsumu had a harder time learning, was very emotional, said the wrong things at the wrong times, and he was also promising but he wanted to be better than all of that. 

Keep reading

old outtakes hiiiii

WHERE TWO HEARTS MEET - OIKAWA TOORU

a/n: inspired by this exchange with @yujikuna

The air in Amsterdam was cool against your skin, a welcome feeling after eleven hours sitting on a stuffy plane. You’d been thankful for the leg room but it always has been difficult for you to sleep during flights.

Now you were stuck in an airport for eight hours until your connecting flight. There were small hotel rooms somewhere around here that you might be able to get a few hours shut eye in but your first priority was to find something to eat. Nothing against plane food, but you weren’t exactly given much variety.

The layout of Schiphol airport is sleek, modern and artistic in a way. Thankfully it isn’t too busy, unlike how it had been in Tokyo, and you can easily find the shopping court with the help of the English signs. From what you can see there are various chain restaurants, along with a few that you don’t recognise. There are stalls selling beautiful bouquets of tulips, even some selling artwork and sculptures, and you’re drawn in by their vibrant colours.

It seems you had not been the only one, a man stepping toward the stall and tilting his head as he studies the flowers and engaging in polite conversation with the owner. You pause, struck then by a feeling of familiarity, even though you could only see the back of his head. You step away so only your upper half is peaking around the corner and take the time to study him. Sweet deep brown locks curl slightly against his neck and around his ears, some parts of his hair a little flat like he had been leant against them for too long. His back is broad, though hidden under a layer of an oversized hoodie, with long legs. You hear a voice that you listen to every night through the speaker of your phone, the very same voice that tells you he loves you, the very same voice that cries when he misses you.

Tooru.

Still a safe distance away you continue to stare as your eyes grow misty, feeling like you’re in a dream. He plucks an adorable little tulip plush from one of the displays, he pays for it easily with a wave of his card and bids the worker goodbye. Only a few metres away are tall screens detailing flight departures, he saunters toward them and comes to a stop in front of a screen that reads ‘Japan: departs 15:32’.

He was visiting home? But he hadn’t told you anything about coming back, that’s why you had thought it was a good opportunity to surprise him by visiting Argentina during his off season. Warmth bleeds throughout your chest at the thought that he may also be trying to surprise you.

You slide your phone from the pocket of your sweatpants and unlock it with trembling fingers. His contact is your most recent and you quickly press his name, the photo assigned to him covering the screen. Amused, you watch him fumble with his own device, clearly not expecting you to contact him.

When he answers he’s nonchalant, it’s almost impressive how nothing about his voice gives away that he was not in Argentina given Tooru is the worst liar you know. From your spot by the corner you ask him how he is, if he had eaten, everything you would usually talk about over the phone. And then you ask.

“Tooru…” You drawl, a smile pulling at your lips as he tenses. He knows that tone, it usually means he’s in trouble.

“Yes, beautiful?” He stammers, chuckling awkwardly.

“Are you by any chance on your way to Japan right now?”

He startles, his whine loud through the speaker, causing you to wince and briefly pull it away from your ear. “Who told you?! It was supposed to be a surprise!” he complains childishly, the pout evident in the way he sounds. “It was Makki, wasn’t it?”

Laughter bubbles within your chest, a giddy feeling washing over you, the impatience of wanting to be in his arms after eight months away from him is overwhelming. “Baby, turn around”.

He turns, head moving left and right scanning the area around him. There are all types of people milling around, all travelling to different places, leading vastly different lives. It was something he had always loved about airports.

But he didn’t know what he was supposed to be looking for.

“Baby, what are you talking abo—”

The moment he notices you is surreal, it’s as if in that moment you both enter a bubble wherein only the two of you exist. His mouth falls open, the device in his hand almost slipping from his grip, unable to process the sight of you only a few feet from him. When you step out from behind the corner he snaps out of his reverie, unthinkingly breaking into a sprint, desperate to have you pressed against his chest again.

You quickly reach your hands out to steady him as he crashes into you, his arms tightly wrapping around your waist. You curl your hands into his hair, the both of you laughing tearfully amid your dramatic display and catching the attention of passers by who smile at your reunion.

He pushes your shoulders back and takes your face into his hands tenderly, stroking his thumbs along your cheekbones. His eyes flit over your body in disbelief, as if he is making sure you’re truly here. Upon his satisfaction he leans forward to press your foreheads together, your noses brushing together.

“How— how are you here? Why are you here?” he chokes, words thick with emotion. He’s so close you can see the tears settling upon his eyelashes. You nuzzle into his cheek, basking in the undivided affections you’d so sorely missed. The feeling of home slots perfectly back into your heart like it never left.

“I was coming to surprise you in Argentina,” you explain softly. “I didn’t tell anyone but my parents”.

He beams and starts to shower your face with feather light kisses. After moving abroad he’d become much bolder with publicly displaying affection since it was far more normal in Argentina, and you can’t say you were complaining about it. You both had a lot of making up to do.

“I was coming to see you, too. I told Makki and Mattsun, but since you didn’t mention anything to them that’s why no one was able to tell you otherwise” he murmurs, his lips hovering over your own teasingly, his breath tickling your skin. “Missed you more than you know”.

“I think I do know,” you hum, tilting your head to bring your mouths together in a firm kiss, pressing all your yearning against his lips. Time doesn’t seem real in his embrace as he kisses you again, and again, and again. Every lick and hitched gasp feels like the very first and the very last, Tooru always kisses you like the world could end at any moment.

Somewhere a bell chimes overhead indicating an announcement, jolting you both out of your daze. Tooru tenses once he hears the words ‘flight to Japan’ and ‘boarding soon’, eyes wide in panic, and he curses.

“Quick, we gotta go to the ticket desk and get me on your flight!” He blurts, reaching down to grab your hand and pull you along with him. Tripping over your feet as you try to keep up with him, you feel yourself grinning freely at his theatrics.

This would make a good story.

166/327 (KO-FI♡)

S8E17, “Goodbye Stranger”

Castiel with paper wings :) 🐦

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