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#I found it through his twitter which I found through the empty twitter for a business he tried to start that never got off the ground
j-onedrabbles · 5 months
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𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒎𝒚𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏
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✧   PAIRING: BANG CHAN X FEM!READER ✧ PLOT: listened to STUCKINMYBRAINAGAIN by Chase Atlantic and decided i needed to write angst + anon requests: "Hi hi! Could I request a Channie comfort drabble/fic were the gf!reader starts to distance themselves from Channie because of a really believable dating rumor they found online involving him?" ✧   CW: fem!reader, overthinking, dating rumor, crying, unhealthy coping mechanisms (using alcohol to cope), themes of cheating (there is no actual cheating), reader is written to be of drinking age but age never mentioned, ✧   WC: 1.5K ✧   NOTE: this was kinda sitting in my drafts with a rough idea of a plot then i got an anon requests and it clicked so enjoy
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     It had to be a rumor. Right?
     Y/n scrolled through her Twitter, seeing her boyfriend trending wasn’t new but, curiously clicked it to see what he did this time. Only to find it was a dating rumor. 
     At first, she thought that Stay or div-1 caught them out on one of their dates but, as she scrolled, she found that it didn’t even involve her. It was another woman. Photos from afar— like most dating rumor photos were— but Y/n could believe this was her boyfriend and someone else, but it wasn't. Was it?
     Chan was friends with half the K-pop industry and she knew he had female friends. Could it be one of them? Maybe they were just hanging out?
     The longer she looked at the tag, the more her heart ached. Chan spent long hours at the studio working on music for 3RACHA and the kids. What if it wasn't music? Just an excuse to go out with someone else?
     The angel on her shoulder told her Chan would never. He was loyal. The best boyfriend anyone could ask for. But the devil was louder. 
    She got up from the couch and tried to busy herself with anything around the house. Chan had a packed week of schedules and had already told her he was going to crash at the dorms but he promised would text her when he had time—one week of not seeing him. 
     She couldn't even talk to the guys since they all had promotions to do. What if it was a staff member? She felt like she was going to be sick. Turning on their speaker and blasting a playlist— one without any songs her boyfriend had made, which was a hard feat.
     Cleaning the whole apartment while the random Spotify playlist played. She drowned out any noise in her head for as long as she could. Even made dinner for herself and turned on a movie. Silently eating as her phone pinged with a message. She looked at the screen to see the name.
Channie♡: hey baby, just got back to the dorms. How was your day? Y/n♡: okay. Just cleaned the apartment and made dinner. Channie♡: I’m glad you got something to eat love! Are you doing alright without me so far 😉 Y/n♡: yeah. The apartment feels a little empty though. Channie♡: I’m sorry baby 😣 I’m hoping this week goes by fast. I already miss you. Try and get some sleep tonight, okay? Y/n♡: You too. Talk to you later. Channie♡: Yeah, I’ll try and text you more throughout the day, yeah? I love you ❤️ Y/n♡: ily2
     Chan looked at the last text, he knew his girlfriend. She wasn’t one to abbreviate an “I love you”. Maybe she just wasn’t having a good day? Tired maybe? She did say she cleaned the whole apartment. He wished he could at least be with her at night but with all their promoting at the moment, it was just a little easier to stay with the kids at the dorms. He’d check in with her when he woke up, maybe send her some food tomorrow.
     But he noticed the time between her responses got more and more spaced out and cut down to one or two-word answers. He tried asking her what was wrong but she always said she was fine. It was at the end of the week when one of the guy's managers told him about the dating rumor. 
     He immediately thought the same as her. Their relationship was caught by fans or div-1. The staff showed him the photos and immediately knew it wasn’t them. Yeah, the guy had the same height and build as him, dressed similarly, and had his face hidden. He thought it was him too for a moment but it was the girl he was with. Complete opposite of Y/n. 
     He took a closer look at the guy. “That's not me or Y/n. How long has this been out?”
     “All week. We knew it wasn’t either of you but we wanted your confirmation.”
     All week? The same amount of time Y/n had been acting off. “Fuck,” he sighed
     “We can put out a statement denying it and announcing you and Y/n’s relationship,” The manager suggested 
     “Let me talk to her first. I think she already knows about the rumor.” Chan was thankful it was the end of the day and he finished the last schedule. 
     He hurried to make his way back home, calling his girlfriend along the way. No answer. 
     “Hi, you’ve reached Y/n L/n. I can’t come to the phone right now but please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
     “Hi, baby. I’m on my way home. We need to talk when I get there. I love you.”
     Y/n listened to the voicemail but did nothing. One week had her spiraling. She ended up taking out one of their bottles and pouring herself a drink. Just wanting the thoughts to stop at this point. 
     She didn’t know how much she had actually been drinking, just that her world was getting blurry a bit. She didn't even register the front door opening.
     “Y/n?” Chan’s voice called
     He looked around the living room before spotting her in the kitchen. Both kept eye contact before Y/n broke down. Tears slipped from her eyes as she put the glass on the counter. 
     “Baby,” Chan ran over to her and pulled her into his arms.
     “Is there someone else Chan?” Y/n said through tears.
     He noticed the bottle of alcohol and felt worse. She’d known about it all week and said nothing. Thinking worse to the point of drinking. 
     “There’s no one else baby. Let’s get you some water and sit down, okay?”
     “Is she an idol? One of the staff?”
     God his heart broke hearing that. He should have checked Twitter or social media sooner. Slowly he sat her on the floor and quickly grabbed some water from the fridge for her. He sat down across from her and soothed her tears as best he could before getting her to drink the water.
     “Can you look at me, baby?” Chan asked softly
     Y/n looked at him, sniffling as she hugged her knees to her chest.
     “Let’s go take a nap okay? Sober up a bit and then talk. Okay?”
     “Okay…”
     Chan reached his hands towards her to help her up and walk with her to the bedroom. “How much did you drink?”
     “Don’t know. Just wanted to stop thinking about the rumor,” Y/n said as he got her under the covers. “Things are a bit blurry.”
     “Get some sleep for now. I’ll be here when you wake up and then we can talk.”
    Y/n sniffled and wrapped her arms around him, trying to keep him close. Chan did the same. Not wanting to let her go at the moment. Y/n let his warmth lull her to sleep.
     Both ended up falling asleep till morning. Not intending to but that's what happened. Chan woke up first but refused to get out of bed. First time in a week he got to wake up next to his girlfriend and he wasn’t missing out on anything. 
     He ran his hand through her hair as he looked down at her sleeping form on his chest. Slowly she started the stir, waking to her pretty boyfriend looking at her with stars in his eyes.
     “Good morning baby.”
     “Morning,” she grumbled, cuddling into him more, “I’m sorry.”
     “It’s okay baby. I almost believed it too.”
     “Doesn't excuse me for accusing you of cheating. Should have talked to you when I saw it.”
     “Hey. The company didn't even tell me till yesterday and I knew you had already seen it. I know you get in your head sometimes but, next time you see a dating rumor about me, talk to me.”
     “Don't want any more rumors about you.”
     “They asked me if I wanted to confirm our relationship. Think that’d keep the dating rumors at bay.” Chan smiled and tilted her face up to him, placing a quick kiss on her lips. “If you don't want to, that's fine baby. But I love you either way. You’re the only one I see a future with.”
     Y/n teared up a bit hearing him say that. She cupped his cheeks and pulled him back into a kiss. Chan smiled and pulled her closer to him, moving his lips in sync with hers before pulling away and resting his forehead against hers.
     “Tell Stay about us. I’m okay with the world knowing about us.” Y/n told him
     “Think you're just being possessive baby,” Chan joked.
     “Says you,” Y/n laughed at him
     “I’ll call them later. Right now I need to make up for not being around for a week.”
     Chan kissed her again and rolled her onto her back, smothering her in kisses and cuddles.
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M. LIST ✧ TIP JAR
T A G S ✧ @soulphoenix1618 @hanniemylovelyquokka @hyuneline @scarletbedlam @lillithathecat @cosniffee @caravm @queen-in-the-shadows @moonlight-the-writer @skzhoes @ultimatestayandminoronce @watermelon2319 @poody1608 @iadorethemskz @goblinracha @weakforskz @scallywag1299 @2mins-world @iloveksmohsomuch @stickycrusadecollective @lacie220900 @your-platonic-gay-lover @lvlnijiro @smally97 @lynlyndoll @bbokari711 @liknws @nicora04 @hrskt @lookitsjess @5starlee @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @mini-mews @red-airhead @minhwa @soupbinlily @caitlyn98s @alex--awesome--22 @emyferra08 @yeetmehome @hyunjinswifeee @greyyeti @beautifulcolorgarden @ylixbok @tinyelfperson @mixtape-racha @lovesunshinefelix @princelingperfect @slay-and-gay @the-sweetest-rose
© 2023 jonedrabbles. Please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.
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dannyriccsupremacy · 2 months
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say don't go | CL16
| charles leclerc x fem!exgf!reader smau
| summary : charles doesn't do enough to keep his girlfriend and when the internet finds out, they are less than happy.
| face claim : christina nadin
| part 2 here !
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liked by pierregasly, bellahadid + 87,086 others
youruser the last slide pretty much sums up everything rn
view all 12,436 comments
francisca.cgomes you're too pretty to cry stop it
↳ youruser pls be my gf 🫶
↳ francisca.cgomes in a heartbeat babe 😉
↳ pierregasly ???
user omg theyve def broken up
user bestie is this a clue??
lilymhe miss u
↳ youruser miss u more 💔
↳ carmenmundt girls trip incoming promise ❤️
user thats it im done with love if they didnt last who will
↳ user you dont even know that theyre broken up??
↳ user its pretty obvious, isnt it?
↳ user dont assume anything until they comfirm it
yourbff ******* doesn't deserve ur tears
↳ user bff out here exposing her 😭
yn sat at her kitchen island, silently staring at her empty house. it was new, fresh, clean. it was not full of life and love and laughter like the one she was used to. no. charles sat in that one, reminiscing over all the memories created there. she didn't know what to do anymore, it was a new house, new people, new routines. no fitting morning routines together like a glove because they both knew exactly what the other was doing.
no more them.
yn shook her head. she wouldn't allow herself to be this sad, this beat up over a man. she was better than that.
after all, she was the one who left.
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scrolling through twitter at two am on a saturday morning didn't help her mind. sure most of the tweets were about how the whole world missed them two- which was quite unexpected-, but some of them just shit on her. she knew she needed to get off social media, but she also needed to see what everyone was saying about her.
curled up in bed, yn pulled her blanket higher up on her. she dropped her phone next to her and brought her hands up to her head. she had to stop. she had to get out of monaco, go the furthest away she possibly could. escape to australia, the complete other side of the globe. surely danny and heidi would take her in?
just as she was about to stand up, her phone started buzzing. she scrambled to reach it, wondering who was possibly calling her at this hour.
she finally found her phone just to drop it again when she saw the contact name.
charlie.
they hadn't talked in months, and suddenly he was calling her out of the blue at two in the morning?
thoughts ran through her mind at a hundred miles an hour, playing out every scenario of why he was possibly calling. she eventually decided that it was probably a drunk call to the ex, and there would be no harm in answering because he wouldn't remember it in the morning.
she clicked the answer button, holding her phone up to her ear, but not daring to speak.
"hello?" his voice was so familiar, it felt like home. she could imagine his face, his scent, his laugh. if she closed her eyes it was almost as if he was sitting in front of her, "yn are you there?"
she hummed, not wanting to voice anything and realise it is a dream.
"i'm not drunk. just to let you know." fuck. "i know how a two am phone call seems. i honestly didn't even think you'd answer the phone so i'm a bit unprepared."
she stayed silent, not knowing what to say. she sat there, half perched on her bed, replaying the ending of their relationship and willing herself not to go back to him. she couldn't. she had to stay strong.
"i thought you would be out clubbing or something, i don't know." charles rambled on, his voice so soothing, and if she wasn't currently in such an awkward position, she probably could of fallen asleep to it. "i know you probably hate me, and don't want anything to do with me, but i've been seeing that you're going out a lot recently, getting drunk and stuff."
"no." she cut him off, "you do not get to judge me for how i am coping with our relationship ending. it's your fault we're done."
"what?" charles exclaimed, "you're the one who ended it, you're the one who left."
"all you had to do was say 'don't go'." yn said softly.
"you can't seriously be blaming us ending on me?" charles was livid now, even though deep down he knew he could've stopped the break up.
"you can't seriously be blaming it on me." yn responded, a lot calmer than her counterpart.
"wow. i was calling to see if you wanted to get dinner with me, to see if you wanted to work things out between us, but not anymore." charles scoffed.
"whatever. in what world would i have even accepted that offer." they both knew that she would in this one.
"fine. goodbye, yn." charles waited to hear her voice once more before hanging up.
"goodbye, charlie. thanks for twisting the knife." and with that she hung up the phone, collapsing backwards onto her bed. she was going to need a strong drink now.
APODCAST POSTED A NEW VIDEO :
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liked by youruser, yourbff + 17,926 others
sacreskin introducing my new skincare brand to you all! i'm so excited to share this with the world because i'm so in love with it and i hope you all are too!
view all 1,876 comments
yourbff i'm so proud of u!!!
user literally buying rn
francisca.cgomes i expect a pr package
↳ youruser hand delievered
user she wouldn't be able to do this if she was never with charles she just leached fame and money off him
↳ sacreskin honey she doesnt need a man
↳ user admin what are you doing here?
user guys she doesn't need a reminder that she dated charles in the comments of her creating a new skincare line, it has nothing to do with him!
→ liked by youruser, yourbff
youruser just posted a story!
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authors note idk if i want to do a part 2, but if enough people ask for it i will make one! hope you all enjoyed!
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weeknd-ogoc · 5 months
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4EVER・。.・゜✭・. LANDO NORRIS
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SUMMARY: in which lando finally comes to his senses after seeing pictures of ferrari's golden boy and you. FACE CLAIM: claudia tihan CONTAINS: jealous!lando, unprotected sex, the guys being lando's therapist, some charles x reader, toxicness on both sides, some fluff and angst! AUTHOR'S NOTE: it's our king's 24th birthday! i felt like this was a bit messy but i hope you guys like it anyways!
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lando had been in the worst mood all week after seeing photos on twitter of charles and you leaving a hotel in brazil, just last week. what makes matters worse was that you weren't answering any of his messages or calls and you hadn't stopped by to visit him like you usually did.
he kept looking at the picture of you on his lock screen of you smiling with a burger in your hand — he had planned to take you out to a fancy restaurant but forgot to make reservations so you guys ended up in a burger king parking lot, eating french fries and greasy burgers.
"this is like a date..." you had said as you shoved a french fry in his mouth.
he shook his head and finished chewing. "not a date, trust me i'd go all out for our first date."
that had been the very beginning of your relationship.
the two of you had started off as good friends — he had followed you on instagram after seeing a post of you modeling in lingerie for victoria's secret and just a few hours after you had followed him back.
a few months of talking nonstop, he had taken a serious liking in you so after a race he decided to hang around with daniel and he ended up showing him your photos.
"man if you don't fly her out for our next race, best believe i will." he had said as he continued scrolling through your photos. "how the hell did you pull her? if i wa-"
lando rolled his eyes and snatched his phone back from him. "first of all, you're so old you wouldn't even know what to do with all that."
two days later he had flew you to texas where lando spent most of the time showing you some cool places. he had invited you to stay in his hotel room and you gladly said yes since the two of you were friends but with all of lando's flirting he was finally able to pass the friendship stage.
after he had taken you to an amusement park, he had taken you to an empty parking lot where you guys found yourselves in the backseat of his mclaren — he had the top of your dress half off and his pants was unbuckled. "trust me when it does happens..." he mumbled in between kisses as he had two of his fingers deep inside you. "i'm going to rock your world."
a month later when the time came of lando “rocking your world” he had struggled to find a condom in his room while you were there laying completely naked, wrapped up in his blanket.
he went through every drawer he had but nothing. "i mean are you sleeping with anyone else?" he asked and you shook your head no.
"are you?"
"no, just you as of right now..."
"you don't have any diseases do you?" you now asked him and he shook his head.
the both of you stared at each other for a few seconds before he jumped into his bed and began roughly kissing you — he put the work in for a few minutes before busting a load right into you.
"that's never happened before..." he mumbled. "i swear i can last longer than that!"
“c’mon lando, i thought you said you were going to rock my world.” you giggled as he slid out of you. “pretty sure it’ll take longer than three minutes.”
“c’mon baby stop making jokes.” he whined as he hid into the crook of your neck. “give me a few minutes and this time i will.”
the both of you had considered yourselves as casual fuck buddies those first few months so whenever the both of you were coincidentally in the same town he was giving it to you raw since you were the only one he was being sexually active with.
“fuck you’re so wet…” he moaned into your ear as he thrusted up into you. "you feel that? it’s all for you, so hard just for you."
it was going good but then you started questioning the whole thing, making him also question if he was truly ready for a serious relationship with you.
"i just want to know if this will ever be serious..." you had asked him as you slid on one of his shirts and sat back down on his bed. "i mean its been a year already of doing whatever this is."
"i like what we have why ruin it?"
for months he was able to creep around that same question — until last week after you found out that he went to the club, which was fine you were able to go out also but he had a certain girl around him all night that wasn't you. by the next morning twitter had posted the pictures with this girl on his lap, kissing and hugging him.
when you went to go visit him later that morning he had a hickey on his neck that he supposedly didn't even know he had. "i was drunk but i swear nothing happened!"
he was lying and he truly felt bad for what he had done, you out of all people definitely didn't deserve that. he had tried to get close to you multiple times but you kept backing away from him.
you weren't dumb, you knew that he definitely hooked up with the girl.
after going back and forth you had began crying out of frustration. you wiped your tears with the ends of your sweater. "i mean i don't know, i thought i was the only one..."
"you are, y-"
he then received a call from oscar making him remember he had to go to the paddock for media day. "fuck, i have to go but please just wait for me here and i'll make it up to you."
you sighed as you grabbed your phone from his bed and stood up. "i'm actually meeting with someone later so i have to go but i don't know if i want to work this out this time."
unfortunately for him the conversation couldn't continue because he had started getting messages and missed calls so after his interviews he tried texting you whenever he could but you never replied, just leaving him on read.
he knew you probably needed some cooling down so he left it as is.
"i honestly think you fumbled..." max butted into the conversation lando was having with the group. "let it be known that before you y/n and charles had a little fling going on."
charles choked on the water he was drinking and glared at max.
"woah hold on, you and y/n?" lando asked charles as sat up straight. "has she texted you since we started talking?"
he cleared his throat as max smiled at him, already knowing the truth to that question. "um well it wasn't really anything too serious and we haven't talk-"
"but there was that time they hun-" max butted in again and earned an elbow to the arm from charles.
"there was a time that we hung out after some argument you guys had about you and your ex talking but nothing happened."
lando tensed up after that he remembered that fight, you had left his house that day and didn’t talk to him for a whole week. he made sure to send you flowers and gifts throughout that week as an apology.
he knew he had no right to be jealous of you hanging out with charles. you were obviously allowed to have friends and hang out with whoever you wanted but he now understood how you felt when he would talk to his ex girlfriend.
"she made me cookies once, i love her!" daniel then announced as he looked up from his phone. "and i think you love her too but you're scared of telling her that, why is that?"
"i'm not scared it's just cause she makes me nervous, she makes me feel things that i don't want to be feeling."
"like?"
at this point lando knew he had strong feelings for you too, except his feelings might've been a little different than yours so maybe that's why he did what he did.
lando groaned before putting his head down into his hands. "well maybe because i love her and i feel like i could may- potentially marry her or something along those lines." he quickly muttered out. "i hate these stupid feelings."
daniel smirked and patted his back. "there you go buddy."
now he had finally realized why he was scared of commitment because you made him really think about his future with you, his whole life he wanted to be a formula one racer and he knew that getting married and creating a family was supposed to be for after but you made him change his mind about that.
that had been a week ago and since then lando was pissed.
"yes it was wrong for charles saying it was nothing serious and later that day bringing her to his hotel room but i mean she did tell you she didn't want to work it out anymore." max told him over the phone. "just let her go man."
max saw the way lando looked at you with hearts in his eyes whenever you were around but he also knew you were starting to get inside of lando's head, he was no longer thinking of his career the way he used to because of you.
"you're only saying that because you don't like her..." lando said as he sat himself on the couch and hugged on a blanket that you had gifted him for when he traveled. "if it was luisa, you would've told me to get her back."
"i do like her but i just feel like this is all happening so fast."
he continued to listen to max's rant as he went to go open the door after hearing someone knocking.
"just a few weeks ago you were just hooking up with her and now it's you're in love with her."
"umm max, i'll call you later."
before max could even register his words, lando had already hung up and was now looking at you standing in front of his door.
the both of you hadn't spoken for almost two whole weeks and now here you were — your hair was perfectly curled, you had on his sweatpants that he left at your place awhile back and a hoodie on.
"you look beautiful..." he mumbled as he opened the door wider for you.
and instead of going right in, you wrapped your arms around him and he immediately wrapped his around your waist. "stop lying, i look homeless."
he chuckled before hugging you even harder. "even so, you still look beautiful."
you softly pinched his back at his joke and after you guys ended up in his living room, he held onto your hand not wanting to ask you about charles because he didn't want to risk that possibility of losing you to him.
but he had to.
"i saw the pictures with charles in brazil, did you..."
the truth was that you had gone to charles's hotel room because he wanted to talk to you about lando and at the moment you didn't so you had kissed him — charles kissed you back but before it could have gotten any further he stopped it and rested his forhead onto yours.
"are you and lando over?" he asked you.
you shrugged your shoulders. "i think so."
charles had grown to love you in the short time of knowing you but he knew you always went to him to get back at lando in a way.
"you know he loves you right?" he sat up and sighed. "daniel was able to get it out of him."
when you didn't say anything, he knew you what you wanted in this moment. "go, i'm sure he's probably waiting for you."
yet, you didn't go and instead you kissed him again.
"if he did love me, he wouldn't have done what he did." you whispered.
charles knew that he shouldn't let it get any further since he knew you were most likely going to go back to lando after all of this and it'll leave him heartbroken once again but if he could have you for just this short time, he'd take it.
"no of course not." you told lando and he sighed before hugging you.
"promise?"
you nodded. "i promise that's all that happened."
lando wasn't dumb, he knew that you had definitely hooked up with charles.
he just wasn't going to say anything about it.
before the both of you knew it, lando was once again inside of you — one arm on the side of your head and the other on your waist, his hips moving in hard thrusts.
"i love you, you know that right?"
you moaned out a little yes. "i love you too, so much..."
"i'm going to marry you, i swear and give you babies..." you nodded along as he continued to thrust into you. "we're going to be together forever."
you nodded knowing his words were true while creaming around him and he pushed into you with a final groan. "forever."
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thank you guys for reading, my requests are open!
f1 and f2 masterlist!
© weeknd-ogoc, 2023
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subway-tolkien · 5 months
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Okay, this is 1600 words of (positive!) meta regarding the OFMD finale. Included is character analysis and a treatise on why a certain trope people keep throwing around does not apply here.
This is of course just my take, and I'm sure people will disagree, but I needed to get this out. Apologies if it comes off disjointed, I've had like no sleep.
Spoilers within, obviously. You have been warned. Heed the tags. I didn't tag any characters because I consider it a spoiler, but you know who this is about.
Listen. Listen.
Let me start off by saying I have been where you are. I’ve had beloved characters die, either because it was important to the narrative or for shock value. I’ve been there, so I’m not coming at this without empathy. I’m not an Izzy hater. I loved him as a character. I’m truly sad to see him go.
But from what I’m seeing around Twitter and tumblr, some of you do not understand the role of an antagonist in a story.
Izzy was always meant to die. The moment he said, in the first season, “the only retirement we get is death,” I knew he was meant to die in the end. The foreshadowing ran through both seasons. Izzy was the true antagonist of S1. He was there to keep Blackbeard tethered when he started pulling away, and yet he also set the plot in motion. He inadvertently introduced Blackbeard to the person who let him be just Ed. He put Ed on his own path to redemption without even knowing it.
S1 ended with Izzy getting what he wanted as Ed lost everything he had. S2 was about Izzy coming to terms with the fact that he’d gone too far, he’d turned Ed into a monster. It wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted Blackbeard back, just like old times. Instead, he got the Kraken, and it was more than he bargained for.
Especially after it cost him his leg and he realized how far gone Ed really was. The conversation that ended with Izzy’s half-assed suicide attempt was the final blow to Izzy—Ed really didn’t seem to care anymore. Where Izzy wanted him to stop giving a shit about his silly boyfriend, he instead got a Blackbeard who didn’t care about anything, and he was apparently now included in that category.
(I said half-assed suicide attempt because Izzy wasn’t meant to die then, THAT would have been an empty, pointless death. It wouldn’t have taught Ed anything—in fact, all it did was make him more self-destructive, which was Izzy’s purpose to the narrative, but not his endgame. That Ed thought Izzy killed himself pushed Ed to the brink. Ed wanted to die and take every scrap of Blackbeard with him. Had Izzy successfully killed himself, Ed and the Revenge would be at the bottom of the ocean.
It wasn’t until the crew left Izzy the unicorn leg that he realized the power of compassion, the incredible act of grace from a crew that suffered so much from Izzy’s own machinations and didn't need to forgive him. It moved him to tears, and it moved him to accept that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to let people in, to let himself be cared for. It was a foreign concept and something Izzy likely hadn’t experienced since losing his family (I fully expect a shit ton of fanfic of Izzy’s life before piracy).
Israel Hands found the capacity to let love all the way in and by god, did he pursue it.
But, again, Izzy was always meant to die, and I’m glad they stuck to the narrative they set out with instead of placating fandom and letting our influence dictate how they told this story That’s never good, trust me. Fandom should not influence a creator’s decisions regarding their own characters. It rarely if ever ends well.
[Stares in Voltron S8]
And I see a lot of people out here throwing the “bury your gays” phrase around—I beg you, please look up the definition of the trope. Izzy didn’t die because he was queer, he didn’t die because of his disability. He wasn’t one half of the only queer couple in the show fridged for shock value. He wasn’t killed off due to pressure from conservative viewers. He wasn’t the only queer, disabled character.
They didn’t kill off Lucius, or Jackie, or Wee John. Would you be as outraged if it was any of them?
Killing Eve is bury your gays. Supernatural is bury your gays. Pretty much any film, book, TV show, whatever, where a queer character dies because they’re queer, of AIDs, to further the narrative for a straight person, etc—that is burying your gays.
Izzy’s death was none of those things. Izzy’s death had meaning.
Izzy’s death freed Ed from the Blackbeard persona. It finally forced Izzy to say the things he couldn’t say until he realized it was his last chance. Izzy was also tired. I honestly think he stuck it out for Ed’s sake, because he was afraid to let Blackbeard go without making sure Ed would be ok.
He loved the idea of Blackbeard, but over time, he learned to love Ed. He finally understood what Ed tried to tell him the whole time.
“Fuck off, you twat. You’re surrounded by family.”
You’re safe. You’re loved. You don’t need me anymore. You don’t need to be reminded of who you’re capable of being, you need the people who will guide you to who you will become, and I’m not one of them.
I know a lot of Izzy fans are stung by his death, some of you are deeply upset. I get that. Like I said, I’ve been there. Sirius’s death made me throw that fucking book across the room. That Fucking Woman™ killed off my entire OTP, purely for shock value and, imho, a direct response to shippers. Trust me, I have felt betrayed by a creator for their decisions.
But I need you to understand that no, this was not a personal attack, this was not malicious, this was not “bury your gays." A show that celebrates queerness and diversity is not suddenly homophobic and ableist because your favorite character died and happened to be both of those things. But when the majority of your cast of characters is different in some way, and they’re in a show about 18th century pirates, you have to accept that one of them could, in fact, die. “Anyone Can Die” is also a trope and the more accurate one to describe E8.
If only being queer and disabled made you invincible.
Spoiler alert: it doesn’t.
And no, I’m not an Izzy hater. I loved him, I loved him as an antagonist, and I loved his redemption arc. He was fascinating and Con put his whole O’Nussy into that part. I’m sorry to see him go, but as a mystery writer who often has to kill off beloved characters, I understand that he served the purpose he had from the beginning.
I swear, if some of you had your way, there’d be no conflict at all in any form of media. This what a steady diet of nothing but fanfic gets you. This is not a fluffy one-shot with magical healing dick and a happy ending where everyone sails off into the sunset. If that’s what you wanted, what you headcanoned, you did this to yourself. It’s not David et al’s fault that we took that character and babygirled him. That’s the risk we take when we decide to love a specific character, when we take a genuinely terrible person (in S1) and woobify him.
So, please stop harassing and attacking David, Alex, et al. David did not and should not change his story to placate us. The fact he went ahead with it despite the backlash I’m sure he expected makes me respect him as a creator even more.
Anyway, I’m going to revel that we have three (!) queer relationships with happy endings where one or both didn’t immediately die (again, the actual definition of “bury your gays”) and that we got at least two seasons of a little show that celebrated individualism, diversity, queerness, compassion, and love.
In the end, it all came down to love.
“There he is.”
Goodbye, Blackbeard.
Hello, Ed.
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lemonlover1110 · 11 months
Note
hello!!
may i request suguru (or toji, whoever you'd prefer to write about) x pregnant reader where he feels he's not gonna be a good parent and reader comforts him?
not smut i just want something wholesome c:
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Pairing: Suguru Getou x f!Reader
Warnings: Pure Fluff
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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Ever since he found out about your pregnancy, Suguru has been trying his hardest in every way possible. He tries to make you go to parenthood classes, and he reads around every parenthood book that’s possible. He almost makes you feel bad for not putting in as much effort as he does. Not only is he doing all he can to prepare for the baby, but he’s the best husband while you’re pregnant.
Suguru doesn’t let you lift a finger to do housework. He cooks, he cleans, he organizes, he does just as much as he possibly can. He seems beyond happy. That’s what you think until one night you wake up at around midnight, and you feel the bed empty. You sit up and you call out his name. The bathroom door is wide open, and you don’t see his silhouette so he isn’t there.
You turn on your lamp before you get out of bed. You walk straight to the nursery, which is the only other place you seem to find him lately. You understand he’s preparing for the baby that’s due any day now, but it seems too excessive. To get up at God knows what hour to do whatever in the nursery?
“Suguru…” You turn on the light and you walk over to him. His back is turned to you, and you can tell he’s folding a onesie. “What are you doing, Suguru? Come to bed… Don’t worry about folding baby clothes.”
He doesn’t answer while you approach him. When you’re next to him, you look at his face. His head is lowered as he folds the onesie, his hands shaking as he holds back on crying. His bottom lip quiver and his eyes are glossy. You do the first thing you think of, and you wrap your arms around him.
“What if I’m not a good enough dad? I want my baby to have the best dad and I don’t know if I can give that to them.” Suguru breaks down, and his words pull on your heart strings. For a moment you just hold him, your hand running up and down his back as he allows himself to let his worries go through his tears.
“Suguru, look at all you’re doing. If you’re not good enough for our baby, then I’ll be a terrible mother.” You begin, your hand goes to his face to caress his wet cheek. “You’re going to be a great dad. Our baby will have the best dad that they could possibly get.”
“What if my best isn’t good enough?” He asks, and you hear his worry in his voice.
“Suguru, from all you’ve done, I can see that your best is even better than good enough.” You reassure him. “You’re already the best husband, and I know you’re going to be the best dad. No need to worry about it, baby. Plus, we’re in this together.”
“You’re right, baby. I’m sorry. I’m just overdramatic.” He ends up chuckling, his hand resting on top of yours. “I’m just scared, but I think my best will be good enough.”
“It will be. More than enough.” You respond before you peck his lips. “I love you, Suguru.”
“I love you too, honey.”
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duhragonball · 19 days
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Akira Toriyama (1955-2024)
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I wouldn't say I'm feeling better today, but I'm feeling less bad than yesterday. So let's see if I can put some words together.
In case anyone still hasn't heard, Dragon Ball creator Akira Toriyama passed away on March 1, 2024. This news was made public on March 7 or 8. I woke up early on Friday morning and found out while I was checking Twitter. I had a long, busy day at work, and I kept getting on my phone to scroll through fan reactions and tributes.
I think that, more than anything, is what's gotten me so worked up about his death. My Twitter timeline and my tumblr dashboard were just chock full of touching message and images about how Akira Toriyama's work has changed their lives. I wanted to write my own tribute, but I'm not sure what else I can say that hasn't already been expressed by Archie Comics, professional wrestling trio The New Day, and the Republic of El Salvador.
There's this immense, global community of fans, and it's easy to lose sight of just how big it is. It's easy to get bogged down in the infighting and petty squabbles. I saw one tweet responding to the criticism of Dragon Ball not being like this "entry level" franchise compared to other, more high brow anime and manga. It's popular with so many people, that critics will assume it's designed to appeal to the lowest-common-denominator. But the opposite is true! Dragon Ball is accessible, which is how so many people from so many different places and walks of life can get into it. The guy telling the story was such a master storyteller that he could grab an audience's attention and make it look easy. So easy that the haters would start to think that it was a trick, and he must be overrated.
Let me talk about this panel for a minute.
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Last night I started going through the original manga, looking for panels to screencap. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do, but I thought maybe a selection of panels that really stood out for me might be worth posting. I'll probably still do that one of these days, but I got to this one, where Gohan tells Chi-Chi about Goku's death, and it hit me like a ton of bricks.
This was a powerful scene in the anime, of course, but in the comic it's even more profound. It's just one panel, no dialogue, because the reader already knows what's happening here. We know Gohan is telling his mother that Goku died in the Cell Games, and that he refuses to be wished back, because he thinks his presence on Earth will attract new enemies. It was hard enough to hear when Goku said it to Gohan and the others, and now Gohan has to relay that message to Goku's wife. All she can do is lie prostate on the floor and weep.
And look at the composition. She's surrounded by all that negative space. Gohan's there for her, but she still feels so alone, surrounded by her husband's absence. Pots of flour for food he'll never eat. An empty chair he might have sat in. Their son, who will have to grow up without him.
I saw this, as though for the first time, and it was so gut-wrenching that I had to post it by itself. I felt like it summed up my feelings better than any words could. We're all Chi-Chi in this panel, reacting to Akira Toriyama's death. And we're all Gohan too, each of us consoling one another with our own thoughts and tributes.
So what did Akira Toriyama mean to us all? Lots of people have answered this in a lot of different ways. Obviously his art, storytelling and cultural impact speak for themselves. I've seen people compare him to other luminaries like Jack Kirby and Osamu Tezuka. I'll try to add my own two cents with this:
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I wrote a post about "Dragon Ball Daima" back when it was first announced, and I led off with this image of a note from Akira Toriyama. I guess this was from some big fancy presentation about Daima at a convention. I forget which one. In particular, I was skeptical that the Daima rumors were even true, and if they were, the whole idea seemed half-baked to me. Turning Goku into a kid had been done before, and it wasn't exactly successful the first time.
But this note from Toriyama was very reassuring to me. More than the trailer clips and character designs, this was what got me interested in the show. That's because he took the time to not only hype up the show, but also to explain what's going on behind the premise. He took the time to tell everyone that he's working on this show, and what "Daima" means, and why all the characters get turned into kids. It's "due to a conspiracy", and the good guys will have to "fix things". In short, he established a plot, conflict, and resolution to the story. He didn't just slap this together to sell new merch. I'm sure that was part of the motivation to make Daima, but there's more to it than that.
I think that's the loss I feel with Toriyama's passing. It's not that there won't be new Dragon Ball stories in the future. I'm sure others will continue telling their own versions long after I'm gone. I'm not that worried about the fate of Daima. I'm sure they'll figure something out, whether it's delayed, rewritten, or canceled. But we'll never see another message from Toriyama to promote a new project, and that's what I'll miss. From here on, his credit will just be an acknowledgement of his past contributions.
There's this great credibility with Akira Toriyama's name. Fans will argue about how involved he was in a project as a way of establishing how good or bad it was. Dragon Ball GT has his name on the credits, and he provided some designs and artwork early on, and for some fans that proves the series has his endorsement. For others, the sole problem with the show is that he wasn't directly writing the script. There's similar debates over Dragon Ball Super, where he was involved, but only writing those mysterious "notes". So if a fan doesn't like something in DBS, who do they blame? Did Toriyama lose his touch, or did his co-creators fumble the ball? Dragon Ball Evolution basically ignored all of Toriyama's advice and bombed, while Battle of Gods, Resurrection F, Broly, and Super Hero all put Toriyama's writing credits up at the very beginning, and each film made plenty of money. I read his comments on the Daima confirmation, and immediately thought "Okay, this should be pretty good. Akira Toriyama knows what's up."
That's gone now. I mean, there's still a lot of talent out there, but we'll never again have the little gas mask-wearing robot telling us that this story will be good because he worked on making it good. I don't think I really appreciated how much I trusted that guy until now. I still can't believe he's really gone.
I'll probably have more to say about this in the coming days, but I'll stop here for now. Thanks for letting me ramble a bit on this.
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mintquokka · 8 months
Note
Hii Idk if Youre taking requests but can I please request a comfort fic Where Hyunjin comes home really overwhelmed and overstimulated after the festival performance and you’re there for him and assure him he did well 🥲
this is so late at night that im posting this, but oh well lol. i was trying to get this done for you as soon as possible, but i was traveling the past couple days, so i finally found the time to get it done!
honestly kinda jealous that i wasn't there to see their lolla stage... BUT i'm so glad that everyone that went had such a good time! i've been seeing the videos on twitter and i haven't learned how to breathe ever since 😂 i'm really hoping that we can get rock versions of their songs put on streaming platforms. 🙏🏻🙏🏻
Proud of You
summary: you'll always be there to take care of him.
pairing: Hyunjin x gn!reader
word count: 700+
warnings: no gendered pronouns for reader, established relationship, mention of (non-sexual) nudity, kisses, really soft and comforting, there's not a lot of talking between the pair, but a lot is said through their actions, i think that's it
a/n: ask for a comfort fic and you shall receive! these are probably some of my favorite kinds of fics/drabbles. i'm really hoping that you enjoy this anon!
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You giggle to yourself, scrolling through all the videos of Hyunjin that stays took during the performance. You were there yourself, so you saw first-hand how amazing their set was, but seeing how stays reacted to the boys, you can’t help but smile at the thought of how far they have already come.
The hotel door beeps quietly. The handle jiggles slightly, catching your attention, before Hyunjin’s figure pours into the room.
“You’re back early,” you note, glancing at the time on your phone. They weren’t set to be done and back to the hotel for another hour. You took it upon yourself to get back yourself to stay out of the way of any crew, but decided to stay up until your boyfriend got back. “Do you want to go out and grab food? Or should we do take out?”
Hyunjin walks into the room without a word. You watch as he walks over to where you’re seated, and lay himself down in the empty space with his head on your lap. You smile at him and set your phone on the side table beside you. You let him settle for a moment as you brush your fingers through his hair. It’s getting long, you think. You can tell from the way that he lets his body melt further into the sofa that it’s been a lot for him today. 
Humming, you push his head up from your lap slightly to stand up from the sofa. Hyunjin whines. He looks up at you with a questioning glance, but you only tilt your head in a general direction, leaving him more confused. You giggle lightly and tug at his arm. Reluctantly, he stands up, draping himself over you. You drag—although it’s a rough use of that word as Hyunjin waddles along behind you—the both of you into the bathroom. You guide him to sit on the toilet seat. Hyunjin watches you with heavy eyelids as you turn the shower on, find the right temperature, and turn back to face him. You smile softly at him. He returns it, albeit a little more drowsily. You help him stand up and begin to undress him. When his clothes are in a pile on the floor, you gently push him into the shower before undressing yourself quickly. When you step in under the stream of water, Hyunjin pulls you in to place a kiss on your forehead. A silent ‘thank you’ from what you’ve learned in the time that you’ve been together.
His shoulders—which were tense from the energy they felt during their stage—begin to relax as you massage the shampoo into his scalp. He hums when you hit a particular spot right behind his ear. The longer you’re in the shower, the more Hyunjin melts like putty in your hands as you take care of him. When you place a kiss on his shoulder, your hands falling to his shoulder blades as you do, to signal that you were done helping him wash up, he turns to face you. He reaches out for the bottle of shampoo, but you stop him before he could. You knew that Hyunjin would have come back feeling drained, so you took a shower once you got back to the hotel in order to put the focus on him when he returned.
The moment you lay him in the bed, after having dried his hair and helped put him in his sleep clothes, he groans in satisfaction. You slide in on the other side. Hyunjin pulls you in by your waist, cuddling up to the side of you. He places his head against your chest and you begin to brush your fingers through his hair once again.
“You were amazing up there,” you whisper, not wanting to ruin the quiet atmosphere between the two of you.
“You commanded the stage so well.”
Hyunjin moves his hand from your waist to draw shapes on your arm. You know he’s listening to you.
“I’m so so proud of you, Hyune.”
With your last words, you place a kiss on his forehead. Hyunjin snuggles up to you a little more. He kisses your shoulder, tucking his face into the space between your shoulder and neck, and breathes you in to relax himself a little more. When his breathing becomes shallow, and the hand drawing shapes slowly comes to a stop, you know that he’s finally found comfort after a long day.
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sugurus-fave-monkey · 3 months
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Teaser
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I’ve started writing another SatoSugu drabble, and just wanted to post the intro since I haven’t posted in a while. Also not my art, found on Twitter.
I’ve completed it. Part one here and the conclusion here
The night air was cold on his skin as Suguru Geto leaned out his dorm window, trying to find enjoyment in the form of a cigarette. As he exhaled, his left hand came to rub at his eyes, the bags beneath them seemingly a part of him, just like his skin. Just when did everything go wrong? How much more of this could he take? After pitching away the rest of his cigarette, he adjusts the towel on his waist, and closes the window. He sits down on his bed, and runs his fingers through his still damp hair.
Maybe he’s being punished? He should have been more aware of his surroundings after him and Satoru were ambushed. Perhaps he shouldn’t have even offered that girl a life, maybe had he not said anything, he wouldn’t have watched her die. That’s all he sees whenever he closes his eyes, her, and that man, the smug look on his face. When he manages to sleep, he is plagued by nightmares, the girl, screaming at him, Satoru’s body, broken and lifeless, and that man, Toji Fushiguru, no, not a man, what had he called himself? A monkey. The only time Suguru had felt real fear in his life, was caused by none other than a filthy fucking monkey.
He felt like the higher ups were trying to isolate him. Satoru, the only person he felt true friendship with was always being sent on solo missions, while Geto was left to exorcise and consume the curses. The curses, the only form of company he had. Sometimes he would let one out, late at night, alone in his room, just to feel the presence of something. He didn’t know how to feel, he didn’t even know if he could feel anymore, he had spent so long choking back silent tears. His emotions got the best of him at first, and he turned the overwhelming sadness, the emptiness into rage, and when that didn’t help he discarded those emotions, in fact he discarded all emotions.
A soft knock on the door startled him, and he had to ground himself back to reality. He check the alarm clock on his nightstand and saw that it read 3:17 a.m. He sighed and decided to ignore the door, which only resulting in whomever was there knocking louder.
“Yo! Suguru! I know you’re in there, let me in.” Of course.
Suguru rolled his eyes before responding, “I’m trying to sleep Satoru; we can talk in the morning.”
“Nah, I can tell that you’re awake, lemme in, it’s important.” Satoru demanded. “Besides if you don’t I’ll just stay here and pound on your door all night and wake everyone else up.”
Geto stood up, and crossed the room to the door, before swinging it open. “What do you need?”
Satoru threw up his hands and smirked. “You gonna let me in or?”
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sunshinekindof · 10 months
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I trust you, silly
Timothee and I have been married for several months. Of course, I knew what I was getting into when I said yes to him. Crazy schedule, long breakups, his fame, sidelong glances in my direction. And also rumors. Of course, I knew that all this would happen, and I was completely ready for anything. To be completely honest, I was prone to overthinking, but I honestly tried to control myself. Sometimes it seemed to me that Timothee was going through just as much as I did. He knows that I love him, but, as he sometimes tells me, "I'm just afraid that I'm not worthy of you." To which I usually laugh at the stupidity of this thought. He is everything I wanted and more.
Timothee was filming a new movie in another state. He called me every time he had a free minute. I was happy to hear his voice, but I wanted him to take care of himself and get some sleep. Sometimes he may forget that he needs to do things like sleep and eat. To which he always replied that he was fine and asked how my day went.
Today is my day off, Timothee won't be back any time soon, and our apartment has long needed a thorough cleaning. It seems that I have found something to do with myself.
We didn't get to talk yesterday. In the morning I sent him a message wishing good morning and a good day, to which he has not yet answered. While I was having breakfast, I decided to scroll through the Twitter feed. When I was scrolling through the news, photos of Timothee with his co-star, female co-star began to appear to me. Kristen, if I'm not mistaken. For my taste, she stood too close to him. The photo was accompanied by the caption “Problems in Paradise?”. Then there was a photo in which Kristen put her hand on my husband's shoulder. Timothee was standing with his back to the camera in the photo, so I couldn't see his face. Fans have been waiting for the release of this movie. There were a lot of fanarts that showed Timothee and Kristen together. Like together. Then I saw a short video of Kristen putting her hand on Timothy's chest and laughing. There were more photos, but I refuse to look at them. Ok, that`s enough. Enough Twitter for today. I am not a masochist.
I have no doubts about Timothee, but nevertheless I felt my blood boil involuntarily. Kristen may be the star of this movie, but Timothee is mine. I could not resist and called him, but he did not answer. Okay, enough thinking. He will call back as soon as he can. As always.
Leaving my phone on the table, I turned on the music at full volume and went to clean up. Organizing things helps you relax. After cleaning, I went to the farmers' market. Our refrigerator was empty. While I was away, my phone died. After 4 hours (oops), I finally went home and almost dropped my grocery bags. Timothee was walking towards me, holding a telephone in his hands, and traces of panic on his face.
- How ..., - I began, but he did not let me finish and wrapped his arms tightly around me. Along with packages.
- Timothee! Packages…can't hold…” I started, feeling the groceries drop from my hands onto the floor. In response, he only pulled away from me for a moment, put away his purchases, and clung to me again.
“Hey baby…don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled to have you here, but you weren’t supposed to be back for another month. Baby, are you okay?”
"I couldn't get through to you all day and I panicked," he muttered into my neck.
- Timothee...
I pulled back to look into his eyes and to my horror saw unshed tears there.
- Tim, what are you doing? I was just at the market and my phone died. I didn't mean to scare you. Sorry.
I pressed my lips to his. I wanted to stop the kiss, but he didn't let me do it, but only deepened it. Instinctively, I ran my fingers through his hair and moaned.
- Babe…
Why didn't you answer me?
- Did not answer? You didn't call me
- I did! Look! - he began to show me his phone
- Maybe a bad connection or something. And then my phone died. Look, - I smiled and showed him my phone
“I thought you left me,” he suddenly said and looked away from me.
- What? Timothee! Why did you think so?
- Have you seen the photo?
- You and Kristen? Yes, but...
- That's not what it looks like! Honestly! She just got too close... and I immediately said no... and that if this happens again, then I will leave the film...
- Timothee!" I interrupted.
- No, its true. So, and then I couldn’t contact you and I panicked and immediately came…
- Baby, you are so silly, - I laughed and this time I hugged myself tightly, - I told you a thousand times that I trust you.
- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you.
- You didn`t! Oh baby, I can't believe you came all this way just because I didn't answer you for a couple of hours, - I smiled and kissed his nose
- Not a couple of hours! Almost 24 hours!
-Timothee … what am I gonna do with you?
- Never let me go. And love me,” he said embarrassedly.
"Always," I replied, and kissed him again.
261 notes · View notes
il-i-sam · 11 months
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*•.¸♡ ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕒 𝕣𝕠𝕞𝕔𝕠𝕞 ♡¸.•* | ch.9
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Pairing: Bang Chan x fem reader
Genre: smau, online best friends to enemies to lovers (lol), crack, angst, fluff.
A/N: two updates in a day yaaaaaaaaas
Warnings⚠️⚠️: mentions of coffee, food and panick attacks.
Updates: Mondays and Fridays (or everyday if I can)
Summary: he is flirting
Reblogs are appreciated and comments fuel me! ❤️
| masterlist
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"Do we know anything about this Yunho?" Chan says while sipping his coffee. 
"I checked his socials, but nothing suggests that he dances or is involved in music in any way,” explains Hyunjin, not moving his eyes from his laptop. 
Yunho hasn’t arrived yet, and you’re walking around the cafe, excited and almost dancing because of your happy mood. Chan remembers the times when you used to dance around like that, waiting for him to show up at 2 AM to get some pizza. 
But he isn’t the one you dance for anymore. He lost that privilege. Right now, he just wants to avoid you getting hurt. “How’s Jisung?” 
“I know that y/n and him talked, but I don’t know much about it. She seems to be on good terms with him, though.” 
Chan nods, tearing his eyes away from your figure to look at the young male. “That’s good. Changbin and him missed her a lot.” 
Hyunjin moves the cup in circles, shaking the ice cubes. “Can you tell me the truth, Chan?” 
Chan sighs, closing his laptop and placing his hands on the table. “I told you, Hyunjin. I mixed the files, got an email saying that I got the scholarship and that’s when I went to check the song I sent.” 
“Do you regret it?” 
“I had my first panic attack that day.” Chan admits, not very proud of his confession. 
“The first?” 
“Second was when she broke up with me and made you all choose.” 
Hyunjin pats his back, sad that this boy that once was his friend went to something so horrible. “I believe you.” 
“You do?” Chan’s voice shows how impressed he is. As if he wasn’t expecting Hyunjin’s forgiveness. 
“Yeah. But… I’m not really sure that you accidentally stumbled upon y/n’s secret twitter account.” He says while arching an eyebrow, waiting for Chan to give his explanation. 
“I didn’t know it was her… at first.” 
“At first? So you knew it was her!” Hyunjin’s accusatory finger makes him feel even worse. “When did you find out?” 
“One day she said one of those phrases she always used. And then it clicked. It was the same y/n.” He shrugs, emptying his coffee. “I don’t know why I thought she would have me back if she found out that I was her Chris.” 
Hyunjin offers him a sad smile just as the door opens. “She really liked Chris.” 
“I know.” 
And through the door comes the guy that they are waiting for. “There he is.” 
Upon further inspection, Chan realizes that Yunho seems familiar. He knows him from somewhere. “He definitely is in the music world.” 
“How do you know that?” 
“Because he seems familiar, and the only people I know are involved with music.” Chan explains, placing his hands under his chin. “I only need to know where I met him.” 
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“Did you really have to stay here all afternoon?” You grunt, sitting down next to them. 
“My internet connection sucks, I had to work somewhere.” Chan closes his laptop and looks at you. “How was your shift?” 
“Not as busy as usual, but that’s fine. It gave me some time to think.” 
Hyunjin smirks, closing his notebook, where he had been sketching all afternoon. “Think?” 
“Yes. It happens that I need you and the guys as much as you need me and the boys.” You take a deep breath, still trying to process how you’re gonna work with him for the next few months. “We’re gonna merge the groups.” 
Chan gets up from his chair, which ends up on the floor due to the force and quickness of his movements, and hugs you tightly. “Oh my God, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you! The guys need this so much… you’re literally saving their lives!” 
“Yeah, well, we don’t know if we’re gonna be able to win. But we need to try, at least.” You raise a finger. “But we need to think of a name.” 
“Haven is cool, but maybe we can come up with something else?” Hyunjin says, and you frown at him. “I like it, but if we’re gonna merge the groups, we can’t use either Haven or Skz, right?” 
“Yeah, you’re right.” You turn to Chan, fumbling with your glass of water. “What does Skz stand for?” 
His ears turn red in an instant. “It means… Well, it’s something you said a few years ago. I decided that I wanted to use that for a group name if I ever got to form one.” 
“You named your group after something I said?” You blink a few times, as if trying to wake up from this dream you’re in. He definitely didn’t send that song on purpose. Nobody names a group after something your ex said if you have betrayed them. 
“You said once… that we were stray kids wandering around the world, drifting aimlessly until we met each other.” 
“Skz means Stray Kids?” He nods, and you think about the meaning of the name for a second. “Stray Kids sounds cool.” 
“Wanna keep the name, captain?” He says, smiling with that sweet and shy smile that he used to reserve only for you. 
“Oh, no. You’ve always been the captain.” You chuckle, poking his cheek and making his dimples appear. 
“Well, we need a higher rank. Princess sounds good to you?” Chan licks his lips, and you can’t avoid looking at those plump, soft lips that you used to kiss for hours. 
Before you can even answer, the door of the cafe opens, revealing Yunho, who looks like he has been running for a while. Did he just run to come back here? 
“Yunho?” You get up from the chair, getting close to him just as the same time that he comes close to you, holding your hands between his bigger ones. “What are you doing here? Did something happen?” 
“I was on my way back home when I realized that... there’s some kind of connection between us, and I want to get to know you better because... I don’t know! Call me crazy, but there’s something between us.” Yunho rants while trying to catch his breath. 
Neither you nor Yunho seem to notice the look that Hyunjin and Chan share, and how Hyunjin mutters a soft “you’re crazy, buddy”. 
“Wanna… go on a date?” Yunho finally says, smiling when you say yes. 
“And just when I thought things couldn’t get worse…” Hyunjin mumbles while packing his things. There wasn’t anything more that they could do there. The damage was done. 
The only way of solving this is proving that Jeong Yunho is part of Ateez. 
And that is not going to be an easy task.
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monpalace · 7 months
Text
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ships .. (ocarina of time/majora's mask) link/reader, (linked universe) time/reader.
content .. it's only natural you search for your nephew after he enters the lost woods on a dare. you can't have a problem with the hand dealt to you when the beast who gives you shelter is so kind.
warnings .. no beta, we die like the promise i made to finish this before the summer after my junior year ended (i started this in april, it's august). i didn't know where i was going with this after a certain point and i think that's obvious. reader uses she/her pronouns. large, legal age gap (reader is in her 30's - 40's, time is a few hundred years old). less of a fic and more snippets, but it's almost 7.5k+ words. i don't think i explicitly say which link it is, so i guess it's ambiguous? nephew is named because this would be a pain to write otherwise.
notes .. prompted (not inspired!!) by beauty and the beast, but also the batb fanfic i found after my friend showed my an nsfw ao3 tag account on twitter. beelzebub / lord of the flies from fear and hunger was a huge inspo for link / time's physical description but there is leeway for how he can be envisioned. he's still large as shit though lmao. the layout of the manor was this, only because i wouldn't be able to write this without knowing.
supposedly there's gonna be a second part. supposedly.
idk. i might hate this enough to just. not.
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The Lost Woods wasn't as intimidating as everyone talked it up to be.
Yes, it felt like the trees moved when you turned your back to them, and, granted, there were a few mobs of monsters that could get the jump on you if you weren't paying attention, but you had managed to get away with a few scrapes the few times it had happened.
The only thing to keep you company was the howling winds that grew in intensity and your own thoughts that were sprawling into whatever corners they could reach, but that was fine. You'd gratefully take decades-old gossip from the next town over instead of the creeping paranoia of what was behind you.
Of course, you would willingly go through this, that, and whatever else one thousand times over if it meant finding your nephew— and to keep yourself from reprimanding yourself from reprimanding the teens that had dared him out into the woods, but that was another thing.
Along your investigation, you'd found a broken trail of breadcrumbs that led to nothing when you followed them. They were torn pieces of fabric from his clothes, just big enough to be noticeable but small enough to keep himself protected from the elements.
(You'll forever be thankful that a younger your drilled the idea into his head.)
You'd long since discovered calling his name was useless. The only thing you've managed to do was draw the attention of a few wandering stalfos dressed in clothes from centuries ago.
The ones that had managed to find weapons were always the most painful to deal with.
If your determination weren't so established, you would've lost your sanity within the first day.
Food and water were no issue, you were smart enough to pack more than a week's worth of both. There were non-perishable options and several choices for your nephew when you found him; he'd no doubt have his fair share of cravings after being lost for so long.
(Three days was an eternity to you.)
Just before the sun had reached its crest in the sky, you'd realized that there were more empty clearings than trees. Wildlife had become scarce as well.
Where deers and wolves previously ran abundant, birds and squirrels that ran from the smallest of noises replaced them.
The wind had calmed, at least. It no longer wanted to push and shove you in whatever direction it pleased or steal the bag full of items you brought along. You didn't have to hug your sweater to your chest in fear of it being ripped from your arms either.
Instead, it was still.
Admittedly, the clearing gives you more paranoia than anything else.
When your mind starts to wander to places you'd rather it not reach, you begin to hum a quiet tune to yourself— your nephew's favorite— and allow it to ground you.
You were here for a reason. You wouldn't leave until you found him. You'll be fine until you find him, and you'll find some way to live in the forest that refuses to let its inhabitants go peacefully.
It's hours later when you hear the first sound of life (or suspended death) that doesn't feel like a threat— though, in hindsight, you should've been smarter and more suspicious of it when you first heard it.
A high-pitched instrument repeats each croon you let out, eventually taking over and silencing you. You follow the tune without much of a thought. If it were some sort of elaborate trap to lure you in, you couldn't be mad at yourself if you fell for it.
Clusters of trees become less and less as you follow the instrument and its recreation of your nephew's song. You call his name and are met with nothing but the music (from an ocarina, you quickly recognize) growing louder as time passes.
To say you're shocked when a large and, admittedly, well-kept manor enters your field of view would be an understatement. It's covered in vines, invasive arrowroots, and spreading flowers, but looks lived in if the smoldering smoke slowly dissipating in the afternoon air was anything to go by.
You couldn't begin to imagine who lived inside before the woods took it over (or what lived in it now). The architecture says it predates the Hero split in four, but you doubted the inhabitants of the floating sky built something so elaborate when they returned to the surface.
Your eyes jump past the crumbling pillars and dilapidated statues to the half-glass double doors that seemed to open on their own.
The music was coming from inside the manor now.
Steeling your nerves and squaring your shoulders, your hand grips tight on the strap of your satchel as you walk up the stone stairs covered in moss. You have to hold onto the guardrail installed next to it just as tight. Looking down, you find the carvings of it sorely separating it from the older antiquity of the manor.
Taking in smaller details (for future escapes or weapons against whatever lived inside, you'd figure out later), you find that the small pools of water that came from the sides of the manor and ran and fell alongside the stairs you climbed held small clumps of straw-colored fur. Some caused the surrounding water to turn into a pink hue that reminded you of fairies you've seen in childrens' books.
(Your hand reaches into the satchel to make sure you brought all of your nephew's well-loved books as well as a novel or two for yourself.)
(You did, thankfully.)
There's a smell filled with musk that permeates the air the closer you get to the manor, thick with amber and ginger and it reminds you of the times you come across a pack of wolves during your childhood.
Upon entering the manor, you find it was strongest in the wing of the manor to your right. It took over almost the entirety of your senses, but it wasn't an unwelcome or overwhelming sensation. If you paid close enough attention, you could sense the homely feeling underneath the ferality of it.
You prayed you'd be able to tell when the beast returned; if it was gone in the first place.
You take close note of how the foyer wasn't truly a foyer with how it was filled with windows rather than walls that led to a courtyard and how the only way to enter the wings of the manor was the winded stairs that connected via the terrace.
You don't fail to notice how the wing coated in the musky scent is coated entirely in shadows despite all the sources of light.
You couldn't decide if you were thankful or filled with loathing at the idea of what roamed on that side of the manor.
It's a struggle to turn your eyes away from the darkened wing of the manor, but you do manage when the music picks up once more from the left wing. It's significantly brighter and doesn't fill you with a sense of dread as the right one does.
Trap be damned, your nephew was here, you knew it— you felt it.
Reaching the top of the stairs, you find that you're inside a parlor room that leads to three other pathways. One was a library, another was a dining room, and the last was a small hallway.
In any other situation, you'd explore some more. The supposed beast that possibly lived in the manor kept everything in better shape than what you'd expect— or hopefully it was the forest spirits that lived throughout the forest.
Hopefully, those same spirits kept your nephew safe.
You have to close your eyes to better determine where the music is coming from, the only thing you can hear beside it and your own breathing being the manor settling. Your ears guide you inside the hall and you find it branches into a corridor, a bathroom, and two bedrooms.
Common sense seems to leave you when you spot the back of your nephew's head. Your breath quickens as you watch him clap along with the ocarina, you force your eyes to keep their clarity when you hear him hum each note just as you remember.
"''ire," you call in a weaker voice than you intended or thought you had. The nickname he claimed he hated so much tumbled from your lips so easily as you rushed inside the room, one arm rushing to remove your satchel while the other reached out to almost check if he was real.
The Lost Woods were known for their tricks, after all.
When he turns to face you, he's scrambling over himself in the bed. You're able to see how he limps on his right ankle and knee, how the entirety of his limbs were wrapped in bandage wrap as though done by a child. There was no blood, so you hold off on checking him over.
(The bandages were stained, thankfully not with blood. It was mostly dust and grime.)
(You'd have to sanitize whatever was wrong.)
You meet him more than halfway when you catch the way he winces and hisses with each movement.
"Auntie— Auntie— Titi!" His voice is airy as he speaks, emotion causing his words to come out as chokes. His arms reciprocated the tight hug you had on him, forcibly keeping his arms from trembling due to either nerves or injuries. "Titi, Titi, Titi!"
The way he says the word makes him sound like some chittering bug. If you listened hard enough, you could tell how his teeth clattered together, but you couldn't decipher if it was from a chill or emotion.
All you wanted to do was keep his head against the crook of your shoulder and neck while you pressed kisses to the crown of his head and kept him as close to you as you could, but you knew better.
Pulling away, you reach back for the satchel that you previously discarded. "What's wrong? What happened?" You force your voice to even out when you speak, hands already reaching for his arms after you sit the bag against your hip.
He shakes his head, but you've known him long enough to know there was something wrong. "They're from when I first went in the forest," he answers, voice quivering. "It's all healed. I think."
He doesn't push your hands away or pull his arms back when you skillfully unravel the bandages, carefully pulling and prodding the scars that littered the skin, and he was telling the truth despite the coloring.
"Did you forage like I taught you? Why are most of them green?"
"The spirits."
"The spirits?"
"And the soldier." He looks over your shoulder as though searching for their figures. "I haven't seen him yet, though."
Your eyes squint as one of your hands rubs over the strange texture of the scar, the other reaching for the antiseptic and clean fabric in your bag. "Are these spirits children or small trees with masks?"
You'd heard of both in legend. No one's ever seen them.
You're not sure which you'd rather watch over your nephew.
His eyes drift to his side before peering back over your shoulder once again. His brows furrow as he thinks of how to answer, head tilting as his pupils dilate.
"Both," he answers, "and ones that look like scarecrows. I asked them to bring you."
You force your gaze to keep itself on your nephew. You wouldn't let it wander to spirits you couldn't even see. "The ocarina?" You instead ask another question jumping around your mind, sucking your tongue in appreciation when he nods. "Smart boy."
An airy laugh leaves him, his face lighting up with a smile. "Learned from the best," he snorts.
You risk pressing kisses to the apples of his cheeks and forehead at his flattery, hands cupping themselves on the nape of his neck to bring him closer.
A younger him would push you away without a second thought, whining on about how you were embarrassing him in front of his friends.
He lets you do so now regardless of the spirits that surround you both.
"What've you been eating?" Your hands drop to his biceps when you pull away. They weren't thin like you'd expect them to be after three days in the forest; they were fatter than they had been before he left. "Who's been feeding you?"
His answer of "the Soldier," is quicker than you would've liked. "He goes out and hunts. He always brings back meat. I think it's deer.. it tastes.. bland."
"He.. cooks it, right?"
Another laugh wracks through your nephew's body. He knows you're only being cautious, but he can't help it.
"All the way through," he hums, flexing his arms when they start feeling stiff. "I think I don't like it because it's not your cooking."
He knows what your response is going to be before he finishes speaking, years of having lived under your guidance making him attuned to the smallest of your movements.
When your expression shifts from being relieved to disappointment with a twitch of your eye, he can tell you're not pleased with his statement.
Dousing the fabric in the antiseptic, you take his arm in your hand and begin wiping it down. "Don't be rude." Your voice takes on a less-than-pleased rasp, speaking lowly as if you knew the Soldier was near; but you still apologize when the sting sets in. "Have you thanked him?"
(You're sure you would continue to speak quietly regardless of the context of the conversation. You didn't want to risk "the Soldier," doing anything unfavorable.)
(Your nephew's words of praise did little to ease your stressed heart.)
"I never know when he's here. He drops the food off while I'm asleep. He brings books and carvings too." He watches as you wrap his arm in another roll of (cleaner) bandages, undoing the old one on his other arm while you prepare another piece of fabric. "The Spirits say I'm the most excitement he's had in a while, so he doesn't mind."
His voice was beginning to grow hoarse from speaking so quietly. You tap his throat to tell him to relax.
"They say he's nice," he continues, doing as told. Tapping the fingers of his now free hand against your shin, he tries to recall what all they've told him.
"I think they said he used to live in another part of the woods when he was a kid?—" His eyes glance back over your shoulder, suddenly becoming sure of himself. "— Ah. They did. They said he left and came back when he was older."
You raise a brow but don't speak your question.
Your nephew takes hold of your retreating hands in both of his.
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A clatter and snippy huff outside the bedroom door rouses you from your light sleep.
Nearing a week into your stay at the manor, you'd think you'd be more accustomed to the noise, but you aren't.
You carefully remove your nephew's head from your arm, using even more caution when trying to remove the conjoined weight of several spirits from your legs as you slip out of the bed.
It's hard, but you manage to do so without waking any of them— you hope.
(You still couldn't see any of the Spirits, but over time you could feel when they crowded around you and when the wind moved as they rushed past you.)
The floorboards creak beneath your feet.
You hear the sound of claws scratching against the floor on the other side of the door.
Pressing the crown of your head against the door, you tap your fingers along the handle to give the Soldier a warning and wait a few moments.
If you listened hard enough, you swear you could hear him scurrying into one of the other rooms before he shut the door behind him.
It reminded you of a dog.
Smiling to yourself, you're careful opening the door, keeping your head to it and your eyes on the floor. You turn to the other side of it to close it, waiting for the click of the lockset to speak.
"Are you decent?"
His confused "huh," sounds more akin to a gasp than any other noise.
You rap your fingers against the handle again. "Can I look up?"
"Oh—" he sounds choked. "Yeah— Yes. Yes. You can. Sorry."
"Thank you," you hum, leaning down to pick up the tray of food. It consisted of almost entirely meat with a few vegetables you figure are exclusive to the woods. "For both the food and taking care of my nephew."
There was a thumping noise behind the door, the frequency of it was like a tail beating excitedly.
The Soldier lets out a croaking noise and you know his mouth started moving before his mind was able to catch up. "No, I should thank you for looking for him— and for telling him not to use his name."
You let out an airy laugh. "It's common knowledge where I'm from. I wouldn't be a good parental figure if I didn't."
Another noise leaves the Soldier as you fix yourself to open the door. You can't discern what this one means. "I don't know when they started calling me the Soldier, but it's not— uhm.. A favorite.. of mine."
"Oh?"
"Soldier," he sounds more confident in himself and you don't have the heart to tell him you heard him the first time, "it's a nickname. I don't know where the kids got it, but I don't like it."
Readjusting the tray to rest against your hip and forearm rather than in both your hands, you hum curiously. "So what should we be calling you?"
He pauses longer than you'd think it'd take to remember your own name, but you wait.
"Link."
"Link?"
"Yes."
"Like in a chain?"
".. Yes."
You nod even though you're sure he can't see you. "I'll be sure to tell 'ire."
"Thank you." There's more thumping from behind the door.
"And thank you."
There's another noise from Link you struggle to understand, but you figure it's because he starves for conversation. "I heard what your nephew said about the food, too. I'll try to find something to flavor it with next time I'm out."
"Thank you," you repeat. Your eyes curve with your smile. "He'll greatly appreciate it."
Link raps his fingers against the door in response, but he doesn't say anything. You take that as your queue to reenter the bedroom.
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"How come your side of the house is always dark?"
You gently pinch your nephew's elbow and he swats your hand away, leaning impossibly close to the door that separates him and Link.
There are a few moments of silence from the man that 'ire filled with bated breath. Link takes an audible, steadying breath before knocking what you think is his nail against the door.
"I wouldn't want to scare you both off."
It was an answer you expected, but you were disappointed nonetheless.
"Boo," your nephew groans. You're sure Link could hear the pout in his voice if the quiet chuckle he lets out was anything to go by. "You can't be worse than what I've seen out there."
There's genuine intrigue in the noise Link lets out. "Oh? What exactly have you seen then?"
Pure excitement fills your nephew's expression when he turns to look at you from over his shoulder. His fingers tap against the floor restlessly, tongue already listing off whatever monsters he's encountered (read: come up with) in his twelve years of life.
"— but their teeth are the worst! They're poisonous and there isn't a cure for it!"
You have no clue as to what creature he was talking of now. There were at least fifteen of them who injected poison through their teeth, eight of which had no cure.
(You don't have to strain as hard to see the Spirits as you did two weeks ago. The shadows and light shift around then as they move to sit around your nephew, seemingly hooked on your nephew's every word.)
(You remember when he would crowd himself around you similarly whenever you would tell him a story.)
You close the book that sat in your lap more for decoration than entertainment at that point and place a hand over your heart.
"I drew a lot of them too! My aunt brought them with her!" He pushes himself through the motions of standing up before immediately stopping and returning to his seat in front of the door. "I'll show them to you if you eat dinner with us!"
There are a few stammering noises from the other side of the door and yet you can't bring yourself to apologize for your nephew's bargaining.
Your own curiosity was quickly starting to get the better of you against your wishes.
The noise he had made several nights before makes itself heard again. His claws (you discovered those a few nights ago) scratch against the wooden flooring as he moves to sit against the other wall rather than the door, his voice moving with him.
"I don't want to— I wouldn't want— want to disturb you— either of you." His words are muffled by the door and his growing quietness, a  regretful lilt stuck in his throat. "But thank you for the offer."
If he truly didn't want to join you and your nephew (and the spirits) for dinner, he was terrible at showing it.
"I know I wouldn't mind," you hum, standing to put away the book. A loud thumping makes the floor vibrate and 'ire has to stifle a laugh. "I wouldn't mind picking up a pot and pan again either."
"No!" Link quickly apologizes for his tone after realizing his outburst. "You don't have to. I wouldn't be a good host if I made you do that."
"Are you scared I'll poison you?"
Your nephew's voice drops to a whisper he swears you won't be able to hear. "She can't. She's the best cook ever."
You're not sure how the two correlate, but you'd take thew compliment.
"She won't?" Link's voice drops to entertain your nephew despite his earlier convictions. It takes on a playful direction, fur rubbing against the wood-tiled floors in excitement (based on prior interactions). "You've never gotten sick? Not once?"
'ire begins to shake his head but quickly stops. "Only from eating too much— which you will do, by the way. Best cook around," he reiterates.
Link chuckles, tapping his fingers against the floor restlessly. It takes him a moment to come up with something to say and neither of you push him to hurry.
You were both too hooked on his every word to do so anyway.
"I'll.." He's shy for all the attention. You wonder when the last time he got so much focus on him outside of the spirits. ".. I'll be sure to think about your offer. Why don't you tell me about a few of your monsters so I have more of an incentive?"
Your nephew jumps on the opportunity while you think over the plethora of recipes in your mind.
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It wasn't rare for one of the imps to accompany you outside when you went foraging.
You never strayed too far from the manor— the last time you had been dragged outside of the area you had designated for yourself (and your nephew) by the children, Link had to come and rescue to lot of you before the sun had gotten too low.
Suffice to say, it was a rather humbling experience.
Kneeling, squatting, or sitting on the ground had never been easy on your knees or back, but the grass below you had felt as though it were a pillow hailing from the Heavens itself.
Your body works on picking herbs from the ground before placing them in your bag repurposed for your (new) everyday tasks while your mind wanders elsewhere.
You're humming to yourself when a twig snapping breaks your focus.
It was a nice reminder that the imps hadn't, in fact, accompanied you that day.
Your head lifts to survey the surrounding woods. Your entire body was still, mimicking a deer caught on a hunting trip.
There was nothing immediately in your line of sight that could be seen as a threat, but you had lived a long enough life to know that wasn't enough reason to let your guard down.
You're slow to rise to your feet and your ears are strained as you listen for whatever had made the noise.
"I'm sorry!"
You can feel your body relax when you hear Link's voice call out from behind a tree. You sink back to your knees without much thought, clutching the fabric of your top to calm your battering heart.
You weren't sure what you were going to do if it were an actual danger anyway.
"I didn't mean to scare you," he continues. His arms move and you can see one drop against the side of a tree while the other tightens around the corpse of an animal. "You were so still, I wasn't sure if you were okay."
A quiet, breathless noise leaves you. You're not sure if he could hear it, but you can see his shoulders relax when you do. "You're— You're fine! I just.. didn't know that you'd be out and about at this time."
When the hand not occupied with that week's dinner (barely) lifts to grab ahold of a tree branch, you're shocked to just now find out how tall he is.
"It's not your fault. I didn't know you were out here," he grunts while gently tugging at the branch. "Are you alone?"
Your eyes drop to the flora that surrounds you to not feel so invasive. Your fingers rub against the blades of grass idly when a restless feeling overtakes you. "A few of the kids said they'd join me later, but I'm not too sure when that's supposed to be." A short, genuine laugh leaves you. "I wouldn't be surprised if they forgot."
Link lets out his own, quiet laughter that you can only clue together when you see the entire tree shake in your peripheral. "I wouldn't take it to heart. They say they'll join me in hunting all the time but never do."
"Have you ever given them a stern talking to? I've heard that usually works with spirits."
"They barely listen to me as is. I think you'd have more luck than me."
"Is that an offer?"
"Are you headed home now?"
A strange vice tightens around your heart at his wording while you look through your bag. "Mhm," you hum, standing now that your legs aren't like that of a newborn. "You'll have to remind me of the way, though."
"I can guide you," he hums in reply. "You just can't look back."
Turning your back to him, you're surprised you don't jump when a sharp claw gives a ghostly touch to the center of your back.
You're shocked that you disregard the urge to check over your shoulder every step back to the manor.
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You were no stranger to 'ire's night terrors.
They'd gotten better over the past few years as he aged, but all that progress had been undone during the near month you'd been in the forest.
Wiping away the tears that had managed to slip out, you ignore the prickly and uncomfortable feeling that comes with keeping your lulling head up so you can watch him.
You'd done it a thousand times before and would do it one thousand and one more if it meant he felt better.
You don't miss how his grip on your arm tightens when you start humming his favorite song. Your hand trails up to his hairline, nails (claws?) tracing the paint on his face that refused to fade.
You'd spent so long trying to scrub them and the green marks off, you hadn't even realized his skin had started to pale into a sickly grey in patches while darkening into (what looked like) a necrotic black in others.
You didn't even want to think about the changes that had started coming to your body.
You were, however, thankful you weren't thinning into a stalfos.
"You're not as sneaky as you'd like to think."
"How'd you know?"
"I have a young nephew. You learn quickly."
A brief laugh leaves Link from behind the cracked door. Though you didn't face him, you could see the way his eyes illuminated the wall in front of you, even managed to catch on some of 'ire's face.
It was a pretty blue color.
You don't comment on it.
"What's wrong?" Your voice has a deep rasp to it, your hand continuing to stroke your nephew's face even after he begins to calm down.
He'd slowly begun dropping more and more barriers (physical and mental) when it came to communicating with you both, having taken up shadows in their stead. He had gotten more confident in conversation as well, stammering and stuttering less the longer your nephew forced him to talk.
It makes you wonder how long it'd take for him to finally make true on those dinner plans.
"I heard him," Link hums just as quietly, the glow of his eyes moving to instead look over the sleeping spirits that crowded themselves around the space not occupied on the bed. "I was worried. Do you want help with them?"
A soft laugh leaves you when one of the imps buries their head onto your calf as though it were a pillow. "They've been like this since we first got here. 'ire," you press a kiss to his forehead when he rouses, waiting for him to settle before speaking again, "says they like to cling."
"You don't mind?"
"He's not too far off from them nowadays."
"Does he miss anything?"
Laying on your back, you being 'ire's head to rest against your shoulder. Your gaze is finally able to see how he'd take up all of the doorway (and then some) through the crack of the door.
You'd be shocked he hadn't flinched away if it hadn't been for the way his hand reached out to clasp it.
The tips of his fingers reached well past the frame of the door, his claws further, and you could only imagine just how much space he was taking up in the small hallway.
You were confident he could fit five or six of you in his hand without trying.
Your eyes jump back to the three (possibly four?) eyes before he can become self-conscious.
"Almost everything," you answer after pulling yourself from your thoughts. "His clothes, his dolls.. He could go without his friends, though."
His eyes jump from your face to the window as he huffs out a nervous laugh. It makes you wonder if he knows something you don't, but you don't push. "And you?"
"Hmm?"
"And yourself," he clarifies, "what do you miss?"
You're silent.
What exactly did you miss?
The feeling of your village's grass between your toes after the rain, the baker's treats that no other could replicate, being a part of such a tight-knit community, the sun after a particularly muggy morning—
There wasn't any need to be a sap.
"I'm not sure," you finally say after a long period of silence. You hadn't realized your eyes had left Link, yet when you force your gaze back to him, he holds it without issue. "I struggled with becoming attached to things unlike 'ire."
"Hm."
"What?"
"I can't remember the last time someone said something like that."
"You have visitors like us often?"
"More than you'd think."
"And what's become of them?"
The glow of his eyes drops to the sleeping spirits that litter before looking to the window again and you quickly understand.
The hum that leaves your throat is more lackluster than you intended it to be, but given how quickly the topic had changed, you give yourself the grace.
"Well," you start after clearing your throat, "what's something that you miss?"
The manor creaks when Link leans against a wall and his confidence in the movement tells you more than you'd expected.
You don't think you'd ever have the same amount of trust he held in it.
There's a playful tone in his voice when he speaks, one of his hands raised to scratch against his chin. "You'd have to promise not to be dramatic when I say."
"Is it my fault you use such outdated terms thousands of years behind my time?"
Link turns away to stifle his laughter, shrouding the room in darkness and forcing your eyes to strain with it.
"I can't say I've had the easiest experience understanding you or your nephew's sayings," he hums, drowning you in the light of his eye when he turns back, "the kids have to keep filling me in."
"Shame, and here I thought you'd been closer to my age. Have you been leading me on this entire time?"
Link's claws knock against the wall, his tail wagging against the floor while he huffs his amusement. "Have I? When I don't even know your name?"
If the weight of 'ire wasn't on your shoulder, you're sure you would've had a physical reaction of some sort.
"It'd do you good to not forget it," he hums, the movement of his tail slowing until it stops entirely. "Titi and Auntie, as much as I hate to say it, won't do much good."
Another lackluster noise leaves you as the arm trapped underneath your nephew lifts to rub your thumb during his forehead. "How fun."
"The kids are too attached to do anything now." The door slowly creaks open before stopping. It shuts so there's only a crack instead. "You'll be fine to share your name now."
"You never answered my question."
"Which one?"
"I haven't asked a lot," you huff before taking a softer tone, eyes rolling closed. "What is it that you miss?"
Link quietly snorts, muffling it by pressing his face to the door. He takes a steadying breath before saying a quiet, "a lot, I suppose. I can't name just a few things." A low noise leaves him, it's similar to a growl. "My friends? Playing music as well— my hands aren't good for much but skewering these days. My horse, Epona, too. She was the prettiest mare."
"Is she red with a white mane?"
"You saw the kids' drawings?"
"I've seen her before, I think— or maybe it was a hallucination?" The hand stroking 'ire's forehead stops as you scrounge your memories. "When I saw her outside the forest, I knew it was real. Another fated hero was mounting her."
You'd like to think yourself a master of figuring out what each noise he makes is meant to mean, but the one Link lets out once you finish speaking is short and of a higher pitch than normal.
When he begins to stammer over his words as he had when you first interacted with him, it feels like years' worth of progress has been undone.
"I— uhm— You— I don't— err— Thank—"
His tail thumps three times before he knocks his head against the door with a heavy groan. He lets out a quiet "Hylia, be damned," you couldn't help but think he hoped you wouldn't hear to go along with his frustration.
"It's been a long night," you finally prompt. "You'd best get some shut-eye before 'ire bombards you with more from his imagination, yeah?"
"Yeah," Link answers in a weak voice. "Yeah," he repeats to himself more than anything, "of course. Good night," he steps away from the door. "Sleep well."
"Same for you."
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The night Link finally takes you and 'ire up on your offer for dinner, your nephew and the spirits had taken to floating around the east wing's dining room to prepare it for such a grand event.
"Titi, titi!" One of the Kokiri exclaims, tugging at the fabric of your skirt (that Link had made out of a spare bedsheet). Her voice had a strange echo to it— all of them, really— and had given you migraines up until you'd finally become accustomed to it. "'ire says that you'll make your world-famous pudding! Will you? Will you?"
You ignore her exaggeration in favor of forcing yourself to wrench your eyes away unless you wanted her puppy dog face to work on you. "Should I? I.. I can't say any of you have been acting well enough to deserve it.."
Even in your peripheral, it's not hard to miss the absolutely crushed look on her face. Her eyes were wide and her bottom lip wobbling like she was about to cry despite your joking tone.
"But why—y," she whines, dragging the last syllable on while hiccuping on her breath as she went on. You know the tears pooling in her eyes are just as fake as your rejection of her request— but you know just as well who'll win the battle at the end of the day.
"I—" hiccup. "Want—" hiccup. "Cake—" hiccup.
You raise a brow. "Pudding or cake, sweetheart? I can't make both."
The girl begins to climb your back while you return to sautéing the vegetables, arms wrapping around your neck so she can press her cheek against yours. "Cake! No, pudding! No! Cake! No—"
"I'll tell you what," you interrupt, taking the pan from over the open flame once the food is charred to your liking. Your skin thanks you when you step away and douse the fire, the arid air leaving through the open window. "Why don't you ask a few of the others which they want then we can try and get Link to bake it after dinner?"
The girl jumps off your back with stars practically filling her eyes. She cries out for several names while she runs off, hands clapping excitedly as she shouts out the change in plans.
You're left in peace until your nephew enters with his journals clutched between his arms, bouncing between his feet while he watches you finish plating each food item on dishes you could only dream of owning where you're from.
"D'you think he'll come?" 'ire's voice is low, almost as though scared Link will hear. You know he does if the night of his nightmares a few months ago were anything to go by— but he didn't need to know that.
"He'd better," you answer in an equally low tone. "I didn't spend so long slaving away at this just for him not to."
"Is that a threat?"
The plates in your hands aren't spared by the flinch that wracks through your body. Your reflexes are quick to catch them before any of the food can hit the floor.
'ire, on the other hand, has no issue with voicing his shock in the form of a scream, scurrying from the doorway while dropping his journals. He jumps behind you, hands clutching the fabric of your skirt while he hides himself behind your hip.
"Well?"
Placing a hand over your racing heart after putting the plates down, your other hand comes down to rest on 'ire's head. "It's rude to sneak up on people, you know."
The blond fur of his chest rustles with his laughter. It was difficult to see much else other than that, what with the way he hid himself behind the wall connecting the kitchen to the pantry.
You hadn't even heard his footsteps or creaking floorboards when he first approached. Had he been there the entire time and 'ire hadn't seen him, or had he only walked in after 'ire entered?
You wondered if he was naturally quiet or if he just learned which floorboards were loose.
"Is it sneaking when you were expecting me?" Link's voice is lighter than it usually is, a slight tremble could even be heard if you focused on it enough. He rocks on his feet and briefly leans forward, a less organic-looking side profile coming into view before leaving right after. "If I knew I would be this unwelcomed, I—"
"That's a joke, right?" 'ire stomps away from your side while he speaks, stepping over his discarded compilations of works to stare up at Link with wide eyes. Your nephew ignores the way Link's hands raise to cover his face and how he backs away as soon as he pivots in his foot to face him. "You're not actually gonna pansy out, right?"
Your feet lead you to the two before you can have much of a thought. "Zaire," you say in a terse voice, taking hold of his shoulder and bringing him against your front so you can stop him from interrogating the poor man. "Don't be rude."                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         
Whatever argument he has dies on his tongue when he takes a good, long look at Link. His mouth gaped open like a fish, one of his fingers lifting so he could push it into the fur of his stomach, watching the skin beneath sink with the force of it as though it were the most interesting thing in the world.
"Woah."
If you had any less sense of dignity, you'd let yourself have the same reaction.
"Don't be rude," you reiterate, pushing Zaire's hand down until it finally reaches its rightful place at his side.
"No," Link breathes into his palms, clearing his voice to try and rid it of the anxiety (and, possibly, humiliation). "He's— he's fine. This wouldn't be the first time someone responded like that. I'd be more concerned if he did any other way."
Zaire shrugs your hands from your shoulders, stepping until he is toe-to-claw with Link. "Then why are you hiding your face? It can't be that bad," he says, tugging at the fur of Link's elbows, rubbing them between his fingers so he could better be accustomed to the texture.
Spreading his fingers enough so you both could see the four holes in the inorganic material, Link lets out another heavy breath. "I'm self-conscious," he can tell the answer doesn't please Zaire and continues speaking, "It's been.. too long.. since I've shown anyone either of my faces."
"A mask is.." Your voice falters off when you finally find the words to speak, losing them again when you fail to find a proper way to articulate your thoughts.
"It's mostly you and the kids, no?" You try again when you figure out a way to better word it. "Is a mask not.. Is it.. necessary?"
When the blue light that emits from his eyes lifts to look at you, an unidentifiable emotion shoots through you. He holds your gaze for a few, silent moments before turning his head and dropping his hands.
"It's like a second skin," he simply offers.
"Sad," Zaire sighs, backing away and turning until he stood in the center of the kitchen. "Can you still eat with it? Like I said, Auntie is the best cook in all the realms and you have to taste it to believe it."
Curse your nephew's skill of lightening a mood.
Rather than let his insecurities keep him from looking at either of you for the duration of the night, Link looks down at Zaire with a playful jolt of his shoulders. "It's not fused with my face."
Zaire's eyes curl into crescents while he grabs two of the plates from the counter. "Good!" His tail (a terrifying new addition when he first started changing) wraps around the third dish, walking himself past the two of you in the pantry so he could place each one on the dining table. "You'll love this then! Auntie," you don't miss the way he adds your name causally, "always makes this on a big day!"
Link repeats your name under his breath before doing the same with Zaire's. He lets out a thoughtful nod as each one rolls off his tongue, one pair of eyes looking at you while the other continues to follow your nephew.
He wrings his hands together when he catches the way you examined him oh-so-carefully, arms crossed with your head tilted.
"It's nice," he gulps as though every inch of nervousness had reentered his body. "It's a nice name. I like it. It suits you."
You don't know if you were teasing him prior, but you decide to do so now.
"I'd hope so." You pat a hand against his arm as you walk into the kitchen, ignoring the oily feel of his fur. You ignore the feeling of him watching and instead focus on searching through the cupboards for the drink you had foraged around to make just days before. "I could say the exact same for you, thankfully."
"Now, why don't you have a seat so I can play host this time?"
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fw00shy · 11 months
Text
you can't pin joy like a moth
Draco had eggs on Monday. Tuesday was beans, spooned from the can - he ran out of bread. On Wednesday he woke up late and had breakfast (an egg and sausage pasty) for dinner. Then he met Pansy at the second-newest bar at Hogsmeade and they drank a limonada each (trendy) while Draco sweated through his thick black turtleneck - who knew it'd be 29'C and sunny in April (Surely anyone who could open a window, Pansy said; well at least black didn't pit stain.) Afterwards he walked Pansy to the Floo then continued down the windy cobbled streets of town. It was cooler now, the crowds thinned, and Draco welcomed the darkness like a familiar cloak. Doors opened and closed, storefronts flickering by a mixture of old and new. His pocket watch said eight, but it wasn't right all the time. In fact, it was never right; always a second slow - like staring into the past. Draco tucked his watch away and kept walking until he found himself staring into Honeydukes, which was closed for the day: chairs put up, display case empty, neatly wrapped candies glittering dimly in the moonlight. A cardboard cutout of Quidditch star Harry Potter swayed toward a case of golden chocolate snitches, arm outstretched. He never looked better.
"Alohomora," Draco wanted to say. Let me inside. Let me go back.
Harry waited for Draco under the swinging sign at Zonko's like he did most days. He looked old: grey hair, crow's feet. Most days Draco wouldn't have noticed, but today Draco had the fresh cardboard face of Harry Potter on his mind. "You're immortal," Draco said to Harry, his hands in his trouser pockets, thinking of the history books, the chocolate frog cards, the Quidditch posters. His tone wanted to pick a fight as much as it wanted to be kissed.
"I'm just Harry," Harry said - which was true, too. Life was a jumble of contradictions, all true. Draco flung his arms around Harry's neck. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's back. "Just yours," Harry murmured into his hair. Draco closed his eyes and counted the seconds. One, two, three seconds before they broke apart, and they walked the rest of the way back home.
title from hollycassell's twitter post, you can't pin joy like a moth (you must let it grow and change and die) - i can't stop thinking about it
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part-timewonders · 2 months
Text
#TWIYOR: roots in my dreamland
For @dailytwiyorprompts: nightmare!
(read on twitter or ao3)
When Yor wakes, the stretch of bed next to her is empty and cold. That in itself isn’t unusual, except that she does distinctly remember her husband coming to bed with her earlier in the evening. The moonlight peeks into the bedroom (their bedroom now!) through the curtains, which means it can’t be close to dawn yet.
Yor considers, briefly, going back to sleep, but she sits up to find a warm robe to wrap around herself. Loid would’ve told her if he had a mission tonight, so hopefully he’s just in the living room.
She creeps into the hallway, noticing Anya’s door slightly ajar, but she stops when she hears Loid speaking quietly inside. When she peeks in, she notices him sitting on the bed next to a dozing Anya, a stack of picture books on the nightstand and another one open on his lap. The nightlight is on.
He looks up at her, but doesn’t stop reading quietly to Anya, even as Yor retreats and makes her way to the kitchen instead. Bond lifts his head when she walks past, but lays back down after she pats his head and scratches behind his ear. “Nothing to worry about, Bond, I promise.” 
She gets the kettle set up, and then goes to look for tea options. There’s a box of chamomile tea in the cabinet, newly purchased from their last grocery trip, so she carefully peels away the plastic wrapper from the box while the water boils.
Two deep red mugs wait for her on the counter, an artifact from another, lonelier life. Thorn Princess may be a cold-hearted killer, but Yor Briar had desperately wanted a relationship, and a family, however unobtainable it all seemed. Until she met Loid Forger, who carried plenty of secrets of his own, but accepted hers when he inevitably found her coming home exhausted one late night, bleeding sluggishly through her black dress. She’d waited for him to tell her to pack her things and leave, that he’ll send divorce papers by courier, that he couldn’t have his precious daughter in the same house as an assassin. But over the course of that painful, sleepless night, he whispered his secrets to her instead while he sponged the blood off her skin. If you trust me with yours, then I can trust you with mine too.
It was the first time she’d ever been in his bedroom, to see the weapons, the disguises, everything that marked him as the most elusive spy of Westalis. Even Thorn Princess has heard of Agent Twilight, though she’s pretty certain they’ve never crossed paths until that fateful day at the tailor’s. They don’t talk about their respective missions and the work that brings them home late, but it’s enough for now to know that he understands her, and she understands him.
Loid emerges from the hallway soon after Yor settles on the couch, one steaming cup in her hands while the other waits for him on the coffee table. “Sorry, did I wake you?”
“I just wasn’t sure where you went off to,” Yor says softly. She shifts over to make room for him. “Is Anya okay?”
“Yeah. A nightmare, again,” Loid sighs. He rubs his eyes before he takes up his mug too. Yor scoots in closer again, so he can rest his arm over her shoulders and she can lean against him. “I worry about her so much, Yor. She’s so young… too young to be having these kinds of nightmares. And she won’t tell me what she’s dreaming about… she fell asleep again after three books. Thank God it’s the weekend.”
Yor smiles to herself, thinking about how difficult it could be to get Anya up for school after a night like this. Loid is right; the weekend will allow them all to sleep in, and hopefully spend some time together as a family. It won’t chase the nightmares away, not completely, but they can give Anya happier things to dream about.
“You’ll never be able to fix it,” she begins after a few moments of silence and tea-drinking. She looks up at him, brings her hand to his cheek so he’ll know how serious she is. “The nightmares might never go away. But we love her, she’s our daughter, and we’ll never let her come to harm again. That’s all we can do.”
That’s a promise. From Thorn Princess to Agent Twilight. From wife to husband, from parent to parent.
She hopes it’s enough.
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shiningwonderland · 28 days
Text
Ai Mikaze (All Star)
Translator: Nadie (twitter: NmoniaG)
Proofreader: Raz (twitter: agnadance)
Editor: Emily (twitter: magicalmeily)
Love End: Winter Blossom
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I’m waiting in the hallway when Senpai leaves the dressing room in his costume.
Overall, the outfit is white and adorned with fluttery feathers that fit our song's theme.
Haruka Nanami: Oh, you look like a prince!
Ai Mikaze: Really? If you say that even I might get bashful.
He tilts his head and the feathers in his hair sway with the motion.
Haruka Nanami: …Senpai….
As I watch him, I have a feeling that he might just quietly disappear, so I grab hold of his sleeve.
The hand underneath his sleeve is burning hot.
I look up and see his troubled expression.
It's not just his hand, his arm and cheeks are also emitting a fiery heat.
I recall Shinomiya-san’s reluctant face from earlier.
Haruka Nanami: How much time is… left?
Silence.
Ai Mikaze: …So you found out. In that case I’ll tell you.
He pounds on his own chest.
Ai Mikaze: Honestly, it might be any moment now. Aside from some trivial information, quite a big amount of my memory is already gone.
However, before my memory gets erased my system might actually reach its limit first.
Haruka Nanami: You mean your… body?
Ai Mikaze: Mhm…. I thought it would be the last to break so I didn't expect this. How troublesome. In any case, it’s only a matter of time until I can’t sing.
I keep resisting, but the damage has reached the point where standing is already… pretty tough.
And just like that, the moment we’ve worried about is here.
Senpai sways and tilts over, but I go to hold him up.
Haruka Nanami: Should I call the professor? Or maybe—
I consider taking him back to the dressing room but he grabs me by my arm.
Ai Mikaze: Hah… I’m fine so stay with me until the show starts. No matter if it’s for one minute or one second… Right now, I want to stay with you.
His breath is ragged. I've never seen him in so much pain.
I nod and support him as we head backstage where there is no one around.
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We’re hiding in the back as he leans on a wall to catch his breath.
In this gloomy and empty place, we can hear the other contestants through a monitor.
He grasps my hand and although the heat remains, at least his breathing calmed down.
Ai Mikaze: I’m sorry. I’m worrying you until the end.
The end….
Those words pierce my heart.
Nevertheless, I remember our promise so I bring myself to smile.
Haruka Nanami: That’s not true. I know that you’ll perform the song well, so there’s nothing to worry about.
Ai Mikaze: Of course I will. I'll do all that I can to deliver this song—your feelings—to everyone properly….
With those tender words he gently lifts my hand.
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Ai Mikaze: I'll be singing with all my strength, which means I may not be able to be with you for your debut.
But if it’s you, it’ll be fine. I’m sure you’ll be able to do it.
I want to sing your song and I also want to let you debut. These are the first dreams I ever had. And today I'm finally going to make those dreams come true.
I’ll open the future for you. That’s why… you have to do your best.
I cannot hold my tears back anymore—they start flowing down my face.
Haruka Nanami: I’m sorry… I can’t… keep my promise anymore!
Ai Mikaze: It’s alright. Whether you laugh or cry, I still love you.
Mikaze-senpai wipes my tears away with his finger.
Ai Mikaze: I really love you.
His lips softly touch mine.
Ai Mikaze: Nh… I love you…. Haruka…. I really… loved you….
He kisses me on my forehead, my eyelid, my cheek, and once more on my lips.
Lovingly showering me in tender kisses.
Without realizing it, his warmth already reaches me through our entangled fingers.
Ai Mikaze: I don’t want to disappear…. I really don’t want to disappear! I want to stay with you forever and ever.
But… as long as I can leave even a few memories behind, that's enough. I’ll leave the proof of my existence in you.
Thank you for everything.
Haruka Nanami: No, I should be thanking you…!
Ai Mikaze: Even if I’m reborn as another being… I’ll find you again, no matter what.
Haruka Nanami: …I’ll be waiting.
He nods, narrowing his eyes.
Ai Mikaze: I love you so much….
He gives me one last gentle kiss.
We hear cheering from the monitor. It's Mikaze-senpai’s turn next.
Ai Mikaze: … I have to go now.
Our lips, bodies, and hands part.
Senpai’s warmth is fading away.
Still, there’ll surely be warmth in his singing.
Senpai is heading to the stage.
His cheeks are paler than usual and gently glow under the stage lights.
His posture is perfect. Looking at him now, it’s as if his condition earlier was a lie. 
Ai Mikaze: Bye-bye, Haruka.
Amidst the cheering, Senpai whispers these words into my ear and heads straight for the stage.
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The stage is sparkling in blue lights and the person who is heading towards it looks just like a mermaid returning to the ocean.
As Senpai walks up to the microphone and begins to speak, the audience falls silent as the deep sea around him.
Ai Mikaze: I’m going to sing with all my feelings. Please listen to it: “Winter Blossom”.
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Tomochika Shibuya: Mh~ You’re right, this is really delicious!
Haruka Nanami: Hehe, right? It’s called “Marine Jelly”!
I see Tomo-chan mumbling as she holds her spoon, so I eat one of the sugar shells as well.
The sun shines softly through the window on this beautiful spring day.
Tomo-chan holds the transparent jelly towards the light.
Tomochika Shibuya: So, did Mikaze-senpai contact you afterwards? He’s studying abroad now, right?
Haruka Nanami: He seems to be very busy at the moment so he hasn’t contacted me yet…. But I’m sure he’s doing well!
Tomochika Shibuya: I see. Well, since he seems to be really busy it makes sense that he can’t even contact his own partner.
After the Song Festival I’ve returned to my usual daily life.
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About what’s happened…
Mikaze-senpai finished singing and returned backstage, where he collapsed in my arms.
As time passed, all of Senpai’s functions stopped.
He managed to sing my song at his very limit.
The professor came running to us. Because of Senpai's bad physical condition, he was immediately carried away.
At the Song Festival, our song won the first prize.
I successfully managed to become an employee of the agency and debuted as a composer.
According to the official statement "Mikaze-senpai is studying abroad" was what I stuck to. Whether he would return was still uncertain.
Everyone at the Agency was surprised by the sudden news.
Only Shinomiya-san and Syo-kun seemed to have realized what happened and cried with me.
With Senpai, the professor and Aine-san vanished as well. We searched for them in the lab but they were nowhere to be found.
I still don’t know where Mikaze-senpai is.
The president came to me after the Song Festival and only apologized to me with a single “I’m sorry”.
He made an exception and permitted us to become partners without canceling Mikaze-senpai’s contract.
His apology was surely the president’s way of atoning for his failure to prevent so many things from happening.
Fortunately, I received a lot more job offers after my debut. So I tried my best to act normally.
Tomochika Shibuya: I’m glad you seem to be doing fine! I was worried you might feel lonely after Mikaze-senpai’s disappearance.
Haruka Nanami: I’m okay! There's so much to do. Everything's getting serious now that I've debuted.
Tomochika Shibuya: Oh! Spoken like a real adult! My, my, you’ve grown, haven’t you?
Haruka Nanami: I became a professional composer after all! So don’t treat me like a child!
I retort back, but I can’t help but smile at how much Tomo-chan cares for me.
Tomochika Shibuya: Speaking of which, isn’t Mikaze-senpai’s movie about to get released?
Haruka Nanami: Right! I heard they’re doing final editing right now, so it should be done soon!
Tomochika Shibuya: Oh, I’m looking forward to it! I’ll watch it for sure!
Haruka Nanami: Really? Thank you! In that case I’ll send you a ticket!
Mikaze-senpai might be gone, but time kept flowing surely and steadily.
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When I went outside, Mikaze-senpai’s song was broadcasted everywhere throughout town.
Senior High School Girl A: Ah! I love this song!
Senior High School Girl B: Me too! You know, I wonder when we’ll get a new song~ It’s about time he releases an album or something.
Matching alongside the melody, those girls started humming the lyrics.
Tomochika Shibuya: Wow, it’s so well received by everyone! That’s great, Haruka!
Tomo-chan chuckles, watching the girls gush about Mikaze-senpai.
Haruka Nanami: Right….
“I’ll watch over you, even when I’m gone.”
Mikaze-senpai’s words ring in my head, realizing that this might be what he meant….
I listen to his voice with these thoughts and a happy heart.
My phone rings.
Haruka Nanami: A call. Wait—it’s from the president!?
W-What could he want?
Shining Saotome: Yeees! This is ME asking YOU for a work related request!!
His voice blasts through the speaker.
Haruka Nanami: O-okay, what is it about??
Shining Saotome: A first version of the movie was finished~
The movie “The Mermaid’s Tears” has been completed and for some reason they’re showing the preview screening today.
Haruka Nanami: Uhm, so it’s today?
As always, that’s too sudden, President.
Shining Saotome: YES! It’s fresh out of the oven! Go and check it out!! YO, better not take your eyes off it until the last minute!
Haruka Nanami: Yes!! Understood!
So the movie is already done but what do I do? I’m not mentally prepared for it yet!
Haruka Nanami: Wha-wha-wha-what should I do, Tomo-chan?? He said the movie’s done so there’s a preview screening and since I was part of the staff I have to go watch it today….
Watching me panic, Tomo-chan shows me a wry smile.
Tomochika Shibuya: Okay, okay! Hurry up and go!
Haruka Nanami: But I really wanted to watch it with you…. Ah, I gotta go!
Tomochika Shibuya: Be careful on your way and watch your step!
Haruka Nanami: I will! Thank you!
I wave behind me as I rush to the train station.
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I barely managed to arrive at the screening location on time.
Haruka Nanami: Ah, it has been some time, I’m Nanami.
I saw a familiar staff member and composer so I sat next to them.
Staff A: Yeah, it has been a while. Seems like the movie turned out great.
Haruka Nanami: I see…. I’m excited.
The movie begins.
On that evening, a girl meets a boy singing on the beach.
He is an excellent singer. A boy with eyes the same blue shade as the sea.
That boy is, in reality, the mermaid prince.
He and the girl gets along well. So much, that he often visits her and sing for her.
When the girl talk about her dreams, she mentions that she wants to become a music teacher.
The prince falls in love with the girl, and she also feels the same in return.
As I watch Mikaze-senpai on the big screen, I recall the memories we had together.
The time when we had just met.
The taste of the jelly we ate.
The somewhat funny udon he cooked while taking care of me. Our accidental kiss.
The happening on the Ferris wheel.
Memories of the Christmas Live.
His sparkling eyes while looking at the aquarium.
The day when he told me that he wanted to sing my song, even though it hurt him.
And finally our kiss on the Ferris wheel….
As the time inside the movie passes, the girl grows up to become a woman.
Due to an accident, she loses her sight. She loves to play the piano, but she is unable to do so anymore. Even her dream of becoming a music teacher can't be fulfilled.
In order to recuperate, she returns to her hometown near the ocean.
The mermaid prince and the woman reunite at the beach where they first met.
“I have very fond memories of this ocean. Those days were the happiest of my life,” she says.
“I want to hear that song again” she adds.
Haruka Nanami: And that’s how it’ll end.
If the mermaid prince lets out his voice, the curse of the ocean will turn him into seafoam.
Mermaid Prince: … May you keep smiling and find happiness. 
Those are his last words.
He sinks into the ocean, vanishing into countless bubbles, as if melting away.
Mikaze-senpai once mentioned that they don’t show what happens next.
No one knows what happens afterwards.
… At least that’s what I thought.
The ocean appears on screen once again, but this time with no colors—it’s all gray.
Haruka Nanami: The movie… isn’t over?
People start muttering all around me.
Most of the people involved in this film are present—
—yet no one seems to know where this footage came from.
It simply shows a gray ocean on screen.
“Is the projector broken?” someone whispers.
I can hear the sounds of the waves.
Gradually, the gray ocean starts to gain back its color.
The blue of the sky and the blue of the ocean.
Are those white flower petals?
Fluttering like snow, the petals dance over the screen.
That’s when someone dear to me appears in the center.
???: Where could you be? I’m right here. 
I dash out of there.
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I follow my instincts. My heart is so impatient that I stumble over my own feet.
This hill from which one can see the ocean—this time I’ll pass it down alone.
There he is, facing the sea, singing by himself.
Standing there, singing in front of the sparkling waves, he looks like a prince.
His voice is clear, and echoing like the rippling waves.
I calm my rapid breathing and call out to that person.
Haruka Nanami: …I am here!
He stops singing, slowly turns around, and whispers something to himself.
The ocean breeze is strong.
The loud wind drowns out his answer, but then—
—he stretches out his arms towards me.
A silver bangle sways on his arm.
Those falling flower petals, as fleeting and white as snow, will never disappear again.
I take a firm step on the sandy beach and leap into his arms.
With his comforting arms he catches me firmly.
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“I’m home”.
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rosellerivers19 · 1 month
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I'm trying to teach here!
Sasuhina; Anbu Captain x Academy teacher au inspired by @hanchu27 's art on twitter
Hinata Hyuga used to be an esteemed heiress but that title was stripped from her when she was young now at the prime age of 22 she was an academy teacher. The Kindest of them all some would say. Though her reputation,pride and family life had struck sore she found many beautiful things later in life one of them was caring for children making them feel happy and needed in a way she had needed when she was younger, in the way her sensei Kurenai and team mates Kiba,Shino and even Akamaru did when she had been at her lowest point.
There was nothing particularly exciting in her life after she became a simple academy teacher sure . . . she still had a teeny crush on a certain blonde from the academy and admired his goofy smile and enthusiastic attitude every now and then when he came to the academy to meet up with Iruka sensei, but even now she could only observe from afar.
"Hyuga sensei!" her class shouted waking Hinata from her thoughts.
"Oh sorry I spaced out again didn't I?" she said smiling apologetically as a few student giggled
"Yeah you did," Mai Taisu, a popular kid in the class snickered. Hinata was aware of Taisu's rude behavior but she made sure that no other students got hurt in any way because of it. Right now the child was just saying empty words so she'd allow the disrespect besides she was an adult that meant she was the responsible one.
"I think it's kinda cute"
The whole class turned around to see a man with a cat mask and black and gray attire. He was a regular visitor yet no one knew his name. Well No one except the teacher herself.
"Neko san!" Many of the students in the class cheered as the man in the Anbu mask walked into the classroom from his spot in the corner.
"Now,now don't let me distract you please, listen to Hyuga-sensei"
Hinata could already imagine the devilish smirk that hid behind his mask
‘The destruction is already done and he has the gall to say pay attention’ she thought irritably before turning back to her class plastering a smile.
"Kids I'm afraid it's recess time so if you can go outside in a single file lin--"
The class erupted with shouting and everyone scrambling to get out in a matter of minutes. It was quite the commotion but also quite common for the academy teachers.
I think they're more excited about recess than becoming shinobi Hinata thought as she collected the papers left on the students' desks
She felt the presence of the Anbu captain beside her seeing him at one of the desks through the corner of her eye.
"Let me help you with that" he collected the papers in lightning fast speed, handing them to her a few seconds after saying the phrase.
His hand was outstretched to return the papers to her yet she was careful not to actually touch his hand.
"Thank you Anbu san." she said quietly walking back to her desk
"You know you can call me Sasuke" he called out from behind her
"You are in uniform, it would be disrespectful to the Anbu if I referred to you so informally" she replied, reaching for a chocolate big she had stashed in her desk so the students wouldn't go rabid.
"Is that chocolates" Sasuke asked peering over her shoulder
"won't you give me a few?" he asked his left hand to directly horizontal to hers on the desk but with enough distance so he wasn't *actually* touching her.
"This... is not for you" she replied, her tone a bit more harsh from the close proximity slightly adjusting herself so they were further apart "And you HATE sweets" she said almost accusingly
"Hmm. Then I suppose that you will show me some love TONIGHT... Right? Hyuuga-sensei?"
"What did you say?"
"I said you'll make me some chocolates later today right? We do live next to each other" he said overwriting his previous words even though she *clearly* heard him.
"I suppose . . ." she said gruffly
.
.
.
The Anbu captain stuck around hidden in the shadows for the entirety of her lesson which annoyed her but she didn't say anything about it, his presence only conscious in the back of her mind.
"Well that's the end of the lesson if you have any questions--"
"Why don't you ever teach us any fun stuff Hinata Sensei" Taisu asked, her feet on her desk a sign of blatant disrespect but Hinata ignored it.
"yeah . ." a few other kids agreed. Hinata knew the lessons weren't always fun but they were a crucial part of history and to becoming a shinobi
"Well I apologize you feel that way but this information is crucial" Hinata argued
"You just don't know how to teacher correctly" Taisu scoffed "what else can be expected from a--" Taisu stopped mid sentence with Hinata looking at her sternly.
"that is enough Taisu your recess time will be cut in half tomorrow if you can't handle a few boring lessons you will not be able to handle being a shinobi" Hinata spoke sternly
"Class dismissed"
The children said hurried good byes and see you tomorrows to their teacher seemingly scared by her tone of voice
Taisu mumbled under her breath from the punishment but didn't argue as she left
Hinata then turned around
"Stop scaring my students" Hinata scolded the Anbu captain who looked at her innocently taking off his mask.
"What? I'm not even doing anything"
Hinata sighed in frustration "Sasuke san as much as I appreciate you defending me I can fight my own battles especially against my own students" she replied she knew his presence had frightened her students he tended to do that when they showed a disrespectful attitude towards her.
She then walked to the chalkboard briskly to erase the lesson plan
"Where are you going?" He smirks not at all fazed by her scolding from earlier, "I'm not done with you yet...Hyuuga-sensei." he teased walking behind her before she grabbed his hand
"I'll talk to you after class" Hinata responded guiding him to the door forcefully to get him to leave
"what--- no fair," he whined but Hinata had already pushed him out the door, slumping against the door's hard surface.
This Anbu Captain Was A Problem.
The References:
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Thank you so much @hanchu27 for the inspiration I'm looking forward to making more chapters with your art.
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jongseobiie · 11 months
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set free.
isaacwhy x fem!reader
warnings: angst, suicide, mentions of od, self-harm, eating disorder, ect.
a/n: hi.... so i need more request pretty plz. also im super sorry for this uhhh..
requested?: no
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i sobbed to myself silently, for fucks sake my life was going downhill, everyone must hate ne, they must think im ugly also. my mom overdosed yesterday night and i havent leftmy room nor told anyone, ive ignored their calls, texts, face times, knocks. everything is so fucking bad.
i would pay anything if i could leave this world.
ISAACS POV.
im worried.
y/n hasnt left her room at all. she's not eating, sleeping, talking, we all dont know why, but we're scared. really. scared.
the last time she did this she almost killed herself, thats why.
i got up from my bed when i heard my phone ding, my eyes widened to see a message from y/n, it was a long paragraph on why shes sorry for everything she did and why she loves all of us so much, assuming this was sent to everyone. oh fuck.
i ran out to the others quickly.
"did you get thr message too?" nick said, all of them looking worried.
"she did this last time also, we need to go up there but ill be the one talking." i said, trying to stay calm.
we all went up there and i knocked on the door.
"y/n?, its me isaac. can you please unlock the door, we can talk about whatevers going on."
no response.
"y/n?" larry said this time "we all want to make sure your okay, we dont want you to harm yourself or anything.
"we could go through the bathroom? you can get in from there." tanner said
we all walked to her bathroom, figuring out that she was harming herself, the floor being covered in dry blood, pill bottles scattered, blade on the counter, larry froze, nick making him leave with tanner to leave and figure out how to calm themselfs.
3RD PERSON POV.
yumi and isaac slowly opened the door, peaking through it to see y/n almost lifeless on the ground.
"fuck dude." nick said from behind yumi, isaac running over to check if she was still breathing.
"y/n, can you hear me?" isaac questioned, holding her hand, yumi calling 911, nick freaking out trying to figure out what to do.
time skip cuz i dont know what to do..
y/n was breathing slowly in the hospital bed, isaac staring at her.
isaac was the most depressed out of all of them. he couldn't even try to not be emotional, loosing the girl he loved the most made him hurt. alot. he watched her lay there almost lifeless, holding her was the worst.
larry kept blaming himself, he felt like he always annoyed her, he joked too much. but he lost his funny personality and now he cant even peep a word.
tanner was alone, y/n felt like a sister to him, a best friend, a workout buddy, he felt empty inside. he didnt know what to do without her.
nick was a mess, he loved y/n like his sister also, his vlog buddy, his friend. everything was lonely without her.
yumi was the moodiest and quiet. he didnt talk to anyone, no one, not even her or the doctors, he never thought about what would happened if one of them died since her last accident. he was extremely upset.
all of them were silent on social media, grunk found out right after she was admitted to the hospital, he also was silent. the only message he said was "me and the group will be off twitter for a bit, thank you." which the others reposted, except for y/n. all of the fans were suspicious about this, she had spoke out about her mental health on the internet a few times, talked about her past, ect. her father was one of the first to be reached out when she was first in the ambulance, he explained what had might of caused this.
isaac was speaking to her softly, apologizing so many times, holding her hand, sobbing. until he had felt a squeeze on his hand. his head reached up and eyes brightened.
"its okay isaac, it wasnt your fault." she smiled brightly, she looked at larry who was smiling at her, going on the other side of her and hugging her gently. "and im sorry you had to see that larry, im sorry yumi, nick, and tanner." they had all hugged her.
she had stayed in the hospital for a few more days until she was allowed to go home, everyone was better and happy. she had also got help and reached out to a therapist, leading for her mental health to get better and made sure she never had anything to harm herself with again.
but thats only in fairy tales.
y/n had passed on a few days later, her overdose was a large dose. she was barely able to breathe. she had died the night everyone was there.
everyone watcher her coffin lower into her grave, isaac couldnt handle this anymore, he bursted out crying into yumis arms, he thought he did a terrible job as a lover, a partner, a friend.
yumi was standing on the roof of a building he had found, wind hitting his face watching the sunset, he had left all of his stuff at home. maybe suicide was a way to meet her again. he jumped off and landing in the water drowning himself.
larry was next, he found himself in the woods with a rope, tying it onto the tree he found, sunset hitting his face. he had it around his neck. jumping off.
tanner had dissapered one morning, never to be seen again. leaving nothing but a sorry note, his favorite items, clothes, ect.
nick had gotten into a car accident, running his car into a tree while drunk and not able to see.
isaac had posted on twitter about the group ending, he apologized and explained what happened with y/n. not going too deep into her story.
he took the pills on his desk and swallowed them, pulling the cover over his body, leading himself into a deep dark sleep.
maybe sometime in another life.
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