#but he write Yamato in a men's bathroom

[please-someone-give-me-love]

Do you guys think that Oda could have certain pressure by the fandom with these lgbtq characters?

I've been thinking about the fandom and there's like 99% of homophobic dudebros and that kinda concern me, because that's on western countries, now imagine in Japan where there's less open mind people.

I am afraid that he could get pressure from the editorial or the public.

What do u think?

#one piece #Oda said that Yamato's sex is female #obviously we know that not all the transgender people make the transition from their bio sex to the other #but he write Yamato in a men's bathroom #and he made Yamaton presented as the SON of Kaido #not daughter #SON #but the fandom is still insisting constantly on misgender him and being transphobic with him and Kiku

[lale-txt]

❣️ One Piece men and how they would realize they have a big fat crush on you (PART 5)

[part 1 w/ Law, Zoro, Shanks & Smoker] [part 2 w/ Sanji, Sabo, Kid & Rayleigh] [part 3 w/ Ace, Izou, Marco & Thatch] [part 4 w/ King, Yamato, Denjiro & Who’s Who]

a/n: part 5! part 5! this might be my favorite fluff series to write. AGAIN sorry if i roasted your favorite— they made it in this series which means i love them <3

Roger

this man might be the king of the pirates, but is he also the king of realizing what that fluttery feeling in his stomach is?

no

Roger is a very touchy man, so it wouldn’t be unusual for him to carelessly pet your head when you were slumped over the bar again, or to rub your back when you were standing next to him, maybe even invite you to sit in his lap when the crew was having a party again…

… or feel the overwhelming urge to pick you up, push you against a wall and give you the biggest kiss mankind has ever seen

he would need some time to think about if he wanted to kiss other crew mates like that too, but came to the conclusion: most of them no, some a hearty maybe but only you, you were the infinite yes

Roger would definitely consult with Rayleigh & Gaban who would only give him a long, knowing stare

”Roger. have you not noticed how they undress you with their glances every time?”

he didn’t, huh

but be assured that he will knock at your cabin door later that night, leaning in the door frame in all his broad chested glory, laughing out loud when you ask him if he didn’t get any of your 1001 hints (one of them was taking his face in your hands and telling him that you want to lick eggnog of his chest. he didn’t get the memo though)

yes you kiss now &lt;3

Luffy

the dynasty of Roger’s strawhat lives on in this one, so it might actually be the same as above but in yellow

i am only 8% kidding

Luffy trusted his gut a lot, head empty only tummy going brrrr

which is why he is confused about the tingling feeling whenever you are close to him. he just devoured a 10-course-menu (meat on meat on meat— definitely someone’s porn title) prepared by Sanji, how could he still be hungry? was it a stomach bug? that sounded like a cool bug though

he’ll be irritated but will mostly ignore it, it wasn’t a bad feeling, it actually felt very comforting which only would draw him closer to you… like literally. you will never have a hammock on your own again. closed bathroom doors? don’t know her. that’s OUR bath time now. personal space? too bad. he’ll breathe down your neck forever now.

one night the crew will discuss crushes and who crushed on who before which is when Luffy learns the definition of what a crush is (surprisingly not something you do to your enemies, though it was a possibility)

it is finally his turn with the braincell which is why he will turn to you, smiling widely, letting you know that you’re his crush then

since it’s mutual you’ll teach him what crushes do when they’re alone, hehe

Rosinante

what is a crush if not the feeling of your heart being set on fire?

Rosinante takes this a bit too literal and will set himself on fire unfortunately, but luckily you’re always here for the rescue

after you tipped another bucket of water over his head, he would sit down cross-legged and laugh out loud, a warm and hearty laugh

“i have to start paying you for saving my ass all the time.” “it’s on the house.”

you would gently take his red hat off his head, wringing it out next to you, before you throw a towel (you had already knowingly prepared) over his blonde hair, rubbing it dry in slow and soft circles

caught off guard by the kind gesture, Rosinante would freeze for a second, mentally saving the picture of your face so close to his forever

wondering how it would feel to have those sweet lips of yours on his…

he would show you a big, wide smile and ponder about this feeling in his chest a little longer, but fear not, this man will probably slip and fall on a banana peel in the next hour and maybe he will land directly in your outstretched arms…

Killer

slurping the bowl of pasta, Killer watches every movement of yours carefully

“every movement” meaning: you getting in another fight with your hot-headed captain over the meal plan. other than Kid, Killer didn’t complain about eating noodles day in, day out

he was actually surprised that the newest member of the crew, you, a little chef, quickly figured out which food he liked and which not

was it suspicious that you asked him daily about his food preferences? a little. did Killer feel flattered by your attention though? very.

when you throw Kid with a surprisingly strong ass kick out of your kitchen, Killer can’t help but laugh. it just slipped from his lips with instant regret. his laugh, the one thing he loathed

he could feel disappointment rolling over him when you spun around on the spot, staring at him in disbelief. you would probably laugh at him and then…

instead you caught him off guard, when you came running to him, grabbing him by his arms and almost cry with joy over finally hearing this beautiful laugh of his

you… you really liked his laugh?

in this moment Killer was happy about wearing a mask to hide his blushing cheeks, something that had never happened before

he would lay awake that night, staring at the ceiling, wondering why his heart wouldn’t stop racing and why there was always your face whenever he closed his eyes

luckily someone would knock at his cabin door, asking him if he was up for sharing a milkshake together. you brought two straws…

#one piece #gol d. roger #monkey d. luffy #donquixote rosinante #op killer #massacre soldier killer #luffy #gold roger #corazon #rosinante #luffy x reader #luffy x you #roger x reader #roger x you #rosinante x reader #killer x reader #killer x you #one piece x reader #one piece reader insert #one piece headcanons #one piece imagine #straw hat pirates #roger pirates #kid pirates #crushing

[gossipchii]

Drive to survive

FF.net: here / AO3: here

Characters: Ishida Yamato

Words: 5100+

Notes: I promised this on twitter, and here as well and well, it happened. A Digimon story on my latest obsession. the Formula 1.

It’s safe to say I got excited, this is my longest story in forever!

Anyway, hope you like it as much as I do. Enjoy!

He was making history; he could not let himself forget it. Not ever had there been a Japanese driver to win podiums, and so far, during that season only, he had five. He had been working towards where he was right now ever since he was 8, when his dad had taken him to a kid’s go-kart circuit in Tokyo and had found out his heart had never beaten quicker. His mom had gotten scared when he told her how much he had liked it, and that he wanted to go back.

The owner of the place, a former engineer for Formula 1, was impressed as soon as he placed his eyes on him.

“He’s got talent,” he had told his mother, she shrugged it off. It was only a hobby, it had to be.

When his grandparents had gone visiting from Paris, Yamato had insisted on them seeing him race, he was only ten at the time. His grandfather knew he raced go-karts from his calls with his mother, but since she had insisted it was just a hobby, he took it that way. Of course, as an old French man, he was a big afficionado of car races, and nevertheless he was impressed by how fast his young grandson was.

“He’s a natural Natsuko, you must understand this is not just a hobby.”

Yamato traveled back to France with his grandparents, after he had heard them discussed with his mother about him taking a shot at race teams in Europe, professional ones. He had never been a professional before, he was not even sure what that meant, since Formula 1 was not a popular sport between his classmates, it was all about soccer and baseball, he did not know people could get paid by racing.

Michel, his grandfather, had a friend, who knew a friend, who was a part of the recruiting team of Renault’s quarry, and as soon as they saw 10-year-old Yamato behind his tiny wheel, they knew he was a natural, good enough to start training as soon as possible with their team.

It all happened too fast for him, he had to go back to Tokyo to pack up his life and leaving for good. He was not even certain if he were feeling sad or nostalgic, all he knew was school would turn into something he could do at home, and in French, and that he would be racing all the time. It all sounded like a dream, really.

“Don’t tell your grandma I’m telling you this but go kick those English kids’ butts!” had been the encouragement words coming from his grandpa before his first-ever professional race. He was 13 at the time, already gaining enough attention from the media, especially from his home country, despite only stepping foot in Japan once a year.

He tried not to read anything regarding himself, they tended to be mean, and underappreciating him. He knew after the first article he had read, he would never read it again, what was the point anyway?

“Next time I see anyone writing something mean they’ll be fired, even if they work elsewhere,” his dad had threatened.

“It’s okay, I don’t even care anymore. Let them talk, all I care about is getting podium, again.”

And so, he did, until he was old enough to jump to the bigger leagues. From Formula 3 to Formula 2, and finally, with only 21 years old, signing a five-year contract with the team Michel had always admired: Scuderia Ferrari.

Sadly enough, he had not had the chance to see him drive in red, because he had passed away due to a heart-attack, his grandmother passing away shortly after. People said she had died from heartbreak. Yamato only took it as another reason why he had to prove his best. His management team had told him media were already calling him the best Japanese driver in history, and that was nice, but only if he made it reality.

Yamato had helped Ferrari pound back to being the first-place team once again, after years of competing against Red-Bull and Mercedes. But he had only been the fifth best racer, not good enough if he wanted to make history.

That week he was back in his homeland, Japan greeting him as a hero for the Japanese Grand Prix. It was scary how much his face was everywhere he looked, even more so than pop-icons. He was glad his team respected his choice to remain mostly private, and when they wanted advertising, his team-mate, an Austrian dude who was six years older than him, was more than happy to do the interviewing.

It was safe to say he was not pleased when they asked him to do a photoshoot for a local fashion brand, up and coming worldwide, apparently. Yamato did not care much about fashion, despite him being called the best dressed racer a few years in a row. Not that he knew about it, plus he usually put on an all-black outfit and he was through.

“Why can’t Lechner do it?”

“They want you specifically, Ishida.” His manager said softly, “even the Japanese embassy is paying for this partnership. Aren’t you proud to be Japanese?”

“Of course, I am, asshole.” He smirked, rolling his eyes as he decided it was the perfect timing to visit his brother.

As expected, he was on a tight schedule, this could never count as a vacation visit to Japan, but he had asked his team to send him into Japan two days earlier to visit his family. It was a tradition he tended to do ever since he started racing world-wide.

He took his ever-loved motorbike and drove as fast as he could to Odaiba. Driving a motorbike had been what he could call his hobby, since karting had turned into his job, having built a couple of them while living in Italy.

“He better be home,” he stretched his arms as he opened the door in front of him, knowing damn well his brother always made the mistake to leave it unlocked. He heard him singing in his bathroom, which meant he was finishing taking a shower. He looked around to confirm his mother was not home and shrugged it off. He had drifted apart from her when he initially moved to France with his grandparents, and even more so when his parents (finally) got divorced.

“Don’t you dare opening that door if you’re naked.”

“YAMATO?” Takeru opened the door wearing nothing but his tiny white trousers.

“I truly do not feel like seeing you naked,” but of course his younger brother could not care less and ran to greet him with a hug. He was the only person on earth allowed to hug him.

“What a funny way of admitting how much you had missed me!!” He gifted him one of his traded white smiles, the warmest smile Yamato knew. “Nervous for this weekend?”

“As long as it doesn’t rain, I don’t see why I should be.”

“Even when it rains you succeed, you’re always making everyone proud!”

“Even you?” he served himself oolong tea. He was surprised to see beer in his mom’s fridge, forgetting for a second his younger brother was legally allowed to drink.

“You know I’m your number one fan, those old-rich men are nothing compared to the original Yamato Ishida stan!” Takeru walked into his room to get dressed, for Yamato’s relief. He had offered his mother if they wanted to move to a bigger apartment, considering he now had the money to provide her and Takeru with something better, but she had refused, and he gave up after the third time.

“Going out?”

“I was going to, with the good-old gang, but that was before I knew you would pay me a visit.”

“So Hikari and company, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah, even Taichi is coming, you should come, too!” Taichi was his oldest friend, the only one he missed when he moved to Europe.

“Nah, you know I don’t drink.” And it was not merely because of his strict diet, he was not a fan of what alcohol did with his mindset. “But you go and have fun, I must get back to my place, anyway, and be as early as possible in Suzuka tomorrow morning.” Takeru looked disappointed, Yamato felt a pinch of guilt for not being what a fun older brother was supposed to be. “But I’ll text Taichi! Remind everyone they’re invited this weekend, VIP seats and all!”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, brother.” Yamato smiled softly before playing with Takeru’s hair like he used to when they were kids, even if he was almost his height.

He took a chopper ride from Tokyo to Suzuka the morning after. He had much rather taken the train, but Ferrari strictly prohibited him from doing so.

“Are you insane? People would eat you alive, you’re pretty much as famous as Hello Kitty is in this place!” He ignored his comment, it was always annoying to Yamato when they were in Japan, because most of his team-mates were foreign to Japanese culture, and he did not have the patience to educate every single one of them.

It was Thursday, which meant he could do strength exercises before the testing race the next day.

“How’s my superstar doing?” the mere voice of his manager irritated him, but he had another year signed up to him, afterwards he had decided to work by himself. After all, he still had another three-year contract with Ferrari.

“He’s extremely focused,” and he was strength training was the hardest to him.

“Don’t forget you have that photoshoot I had mentioned you in an hour, and I wouldn’t like you to go there all sweaty.”

“Do you think I would forget?” but in fact, he had forgotten it, his mind had probably erased the memory of that specific event.

“I’m glad we’re finally on the same track,” he winked at Yamato, before shutting the door of the hotel’s gym.

Yamato did not have much of a choice, so he took a cold shower before heading to one of the hotel’s meeting rooms. It had all been transformed for it to look like a Sakura garden. In reality, it was October and Sakura’s were far from blossoming. He would be lying if he did not admit it looked rather breathtaking.

He had heard about this up-and-coming brand. They had turned the Japanese typical attire and turned it into mainstream. He had to admit he was a fan.

He had also heard the brand had been started by a young student from Bunka Fashion College, under the wings of a bigger brand. He had heard, not that he cared, really, that the founder was around his age. Suddenly, he was curious.

“Ishida Yamato, what a pleasure to finally meet you!” a man around his thirties greeted him rather enthusiastic.

“You must be…?”

“Oh, you’re a funny one! Yoshio Fujiwara, of course!” And the Fujiwara branding was the bigger one who had taken the young designer under his wings, he wondered where she was.

“Of course, of course,” he bowed, always traying himself to remain close to his Japanese customs and traditions. “A pleasure to meet you, Fujiwara-san.”

“No need to be formal with me, I’m very used to western traditions, having spent most of your life in Europe, I would have killed for an opportunity like that!” Yamato tried his best not to roll his eyes, faking his best smile. “It is our biggest pleasure that you have accepted to be the face of our newest collection.” Yamato saw a petit figure running around the room with pieces of clothing covering her, he wondered if that was Fujiwara counterpart.

“It’s always delightful to put Japan’s name high, you know.” He cleared his voice, “so, am I also going to meet Takenouchi-san?”

“You absolutely will, she must be somewhere around… Sora!?” The fast-paced person finally stopped, uncovering her face from the piles of clothing she was carrying. “Don’t be rude and introduce yourself to Yamato.”

“Sure thing, just let me finish up the final touches and…”

“Now?!” Yamato noticed a subtle sigh coming from her lips. She surely seemed young, barely his own age. For the first time since the encounter started, he felt safe.

She ran right next to him, her attention still clearly on the mess she had left. He could immediately tell how passionate she was about what she was doing.

“It’s a pleasure, Ishida-san. I would love to lie and say I’m a fan, but truth is this is my first time having an encounter with races, or cars in general…”

“Sora! You’re being rude!”

“Sorry, I still take the subway and I never got a driver’s license!” Yamato snorted, in those five seconds he decided that redhead was his favorite person in the room.

“Well, I’m glad to admit this is not my first encounter with your brand, I’ve read so much.” Her eyes lit up; Yamato could have even sworn he spotted a subtle blush in her face.

He was rather awkward in front of the cameras, never quite a natural. Another reason why his team-mate was the one to do most of Ferrari’s advertisements. But Sora helped him feel in his element, somehow. He liked how much she got into her character, almost ignoring him by how much she cared on how her designs looked on him.

“I think we’re good, we shouldn’t take much more of your time.” By then, Fujiwara had left the room, Sora was certain he had slipped into the hotel bar.

“That must have been the less stressful photoshoot I’ve ever had, thank you, Takenouchi-san.”

“Oh, don’t call me that! I’m not older than you are.”

“Then you must accept to drop the formalities with me as well.” A grimaced appeared on her face, clearly unsure.

“But you’re a client, that would be completely unprofessional!”

“I promise I won’t tell anybody,” Sora liked that, a dirty-little-secret.

“Fine, but if Fujiwara is around, I’ll go back in character.”

“Deal,” Yamato grabbed a bottle of water and doubted if he should say what his mind was begging at him to do. “Are you staying for the race?”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I had no idea how this worked.” She shrugged, clearly embarrassed. “I don’t understand why it lasts so many days, it’s confusing. This whole sport is confusing.” Sora liked sports, for instance, sports where a ball had to go from one side of the court to the other, not cars and tires.

“It’s not that hard, you’ll see,” they took a seat on the fake grass Sora had built for the photoshoot. “The first day is merely for us to get familiar with the track, nothing formal. The second day the places for the actual race, which is on Sunday, get settled. And that’s pretty much it.”

“And you get to travel the world for that?”

“People can be very serious about their cars.”

“Incredible,” she locked eyes with Yamato, she was not familiar with his sport but she sure was with his face, and not only because it was everywhere she looked around the city’s billboards, but because she had studied it for the whole photoshoot, and even for the particular line she was about to launch.

“It would be fun if you stayed, some friends around our age are coming too, so it won’t be that weird for you.”

“Okay, but I’ll stay for fun, not as a part of my job schedule.”

“Great!” He said way too enthusiastic, regretting it right away. “I can get you great tickets, so don’t worry about that.” She chuckled, taking out her VIP pass.

“Don’t worry, I have that part settled.”

“Of course, you do,” he felt stupid, all sponsors got the best tickets, even better than he could even get most times.

“So, I’ll see you around? Do you say break a leg for this?”

“Absolutely not! But I appreciate your luck wishes.”

He was glad on Friday’s there was never much of a crowd, that way he could stay focused on what mattered: getting comfortable enough with the track. Whenever he raced, he felt an almost out of body experience, where he could disconnect from his current reality and be one with his car. Ferrari had nicknamed him the racing samurai, for how dramatic his recovering could be whenever he was behind on the race.

Japan had never particularly been the biggest crowd when it came to Formula 1, but ever since he had started getting podiums, and making a name out of himself, it had a 180 degrees change. Ferrari could not be happier with the now 23-yeard-old racer, he was smart, analytic, and cold headed.

When he got back to the Pits, he was greeted by his family, not expecting to see them until the day after.

“You were pretty fast out there!” his dad said, as awkward as he usually was.

“This was merely the boring race, we were just testing the track,” he smiled widely, greeting him by what could be considered a hug, or sort of one.

“But Hiroaki is right, you were extremely fast. That car you’re racing, is a beauty,” seeing his mother was always an adventure for Yamato. Ever since he left home, at such a young age, they had drifted apart. Naturally, she was worried for her older son, racing and putting his life at risk every time he did so. Yamato had heard her fighting with his grandpa countless times, until she finally gave in. She was never going to win, Yamato loved karting the same way she loved writing.

“You were tremendous there, superstar!” his manager came to greet him, as much as he annoyed him, he was not a bad person, he just clearly loved the money Yamato made him gain. “You better keep up the pace the rest of the weekend.”

“That’s the plan,” Yamato served himself a cup of tea, while he took a seat in front of the screen that was studying his track performance. He was nearly obsessed with improving, never not paying attention at even the slightest mistake.

“Before I forget,” his manager was French, and spoke a very heavily accented English. His family, apart from Takeru, barely spoke any English at all, hence why they did not communicate with one another. Yamato despised that, considering he could speak four languages. “Young Takenouchi asked me to give you her number, Romeo.” Yamato’s cheeks flushed, as he took with both hands the business card he was being given.

“I’ll quickly go to my room,” he excused himself with his family, promising he would meet them for a quick dinner.

He wrote and re-wrote his text message towards Sora, not wanting to appear desperate. Formula 1 drivers, at least some of them, had the reputation of being more than successful with the opposite sex, however Yamato was rather unlucky. He put so much effort into his performance inside the track, he tended to neglect everything else. Hence why it felt nice to have a close to normal conversation with someone his age, a woman his age.

“This is Yamato, I heard the rumor you wanted to have my number,” he finally sent, wanting to throw his phone over the window right after.

“How come we spent so much time talking yesterday and I had to ask your manager for your number?” she replied right after, Yamato felt relieved.

“I guess we lost track of time.”

“Hey, I had to come back to Tokyo, business matters. But I’m not one to break any promises, so I hope you still save a seat for me for the big race on Sunday. Did I say that correctly?”

Yamato immediately felt disappointment, but he had to understand he was not dealing with someone unoccupied; this was a young entrepreneur with a worldwide successful fashion brand.

“Are you sure you want to make a four-hour trip to see some car racing?”

“As I said, I’m not a promise breaker. Plus, is not Formula 1 supposed to be the best car racing in the world? I won’t miss it, and I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry, and your spot on Scuderia Ferrari will remain untouched.”

“Great, I’m actually pretty excited! You have turned it into such a big deal for the country, I’ve never seen such a media coverage on the sport before. How was the tracking test?”

Yamato’s stomach made a turn. He did not want to focus on the pressure it meant to be in his home country, he just wanted to do what he always did, which meant to give his 100% performance, and get better every time. He just really hoped it would not rain on Sunday…

Him and Sora kept texting for the rest of the day, and the morning after as he got ready for the weekend’s second race. His goal was to qualify on the front row, that was always a determining factor for the final race. His mom had been right when she mentioned his car was a beauty, because it may not be the fastest car, that would still go to Mercedes, but if Ferrari had something no other team could fight with, was beauty.

He was not one to make many friends, but he was always amicable with the rest of the drivers. He saw them more than he saw his family, and even grew up with a big amount of them, but he always tried to focus on what they really were: his competition.

The weather so far had looked hopeful, a rainy race was one of his biggest fears, he had already had more than one rainy accident, and they had been hard to get over. He tried not to put too much thought into it, how he put his life at risk every time he got into the car, because there was no point in doing so, considering he was not going to stop, racing was the most important part of his life.

He got behind his wheel and his team assured his car was ready to go for the last time, and he got into driving mode, forgetting everything else, the pressure, the people, the weather, his friends. He almost disassociated from everything, but the track, and his team speaking whenever there was something to say, like which place he was on at the moment.

He had gotten so used to Ferrari, after being over two years on the team, that he could go as far as to describe its motor as a part of him. The first few laps were always the most stressful ones, and were most of the accidents happened, everyone tried to gain that valuable P1 as fast as possible, but Yamato thought of it as a waste of energy, he would rather stay behind for the first few laps and give it all in after. It had worked for him so far, avoiding the turmoil behind it.

There were 53 laps in the Japanese track, not that he counted them, but he always studied the tracks of wherever he was at. He just focused on staying in track, passing the rest of the drivers and being fast, and his team made sure he did not forget where his position was at the moment, which was a P5, his teammate was currently second. Fifth was not a bad position, it was still second row, but it was not his goal, he truly wanted first row. In the end he had managed to end up fourth, which his team congratulated him for, he still was not happy.

Back in Ferrari’s box, he had a bigger crowd greeting him, not only his parents and brother, but some of his closest childhood friends.

“Man, how does it feel to be able to fly!” Taichi said before giving him a big hug, which Yamato did not mind, he guessed he was also allowed to hug him.

“What I wonder is what that amount of speed can do with your body, I read you lose up to 3 liters every time you race,” Joe patted his shoulder, the soon-to-be-doctor never missed to drop a random anatomy fact on him. “And sorry, but it seems to Koushiro your car’s machinery is way more impressive than you.”

His third friend, a genius redhead, had been talking non-stop with his team’s engineers, asking questions Yamato could possibly never answer.

He spent the next few hours doing interviews, as much as he hated them, it was on his contract to do them before and after every Grand Prix. He also took more time studying his career, and where he could improve. He wanted to get podium on his home country more than he had ever wanted before.

But of course, he also took the chance to spend some time with his loved ones, catching up about their crazy adult lives.

“Koushiro could soon enough buy one of these teams, you know? He’s getting so rich!” Taichi had a big mouth, but they had gotten used to it. And to be fair with his brunette friend, he was not wrong, considering Koushiro’s software startup had gotten public, and the dude was only 22.

“And Jou’s about to be a doctor, and you, well, you didn’t get kicked out of Uni!” They all laughed, Taichi rolled his eyes. Yamato had gotten so comfortable with their conversation, he got scared when his phone began ringing.

“Yes?”

“Guess who’s just landed in Suzuka!” it was Sora, his heart skipped a beat. “I’m glad I made it a few hours before I had promised, I truly didn’t want to miss tomorrow’s race.”

“Where are you exactly? You should come join us! I’m at Ferrari’s tent with some childhood friends, I mean, if you’re not too tired.” His friends started yelling embarrassing things to him, as friends did whenever you spoke on the phone with someone, even if that someone was your own mother. Except, of course, it was not his mother.

“Great! I’ll ask the driver to drop me off.”

They spent the next few hours chatting, and laughing, and making fun of Yamato with embarrassing stories Sora was rather intrigued to keep on listening. Of course, Sora had hit it off with his friends, she was a great talker, they all had liked her, he could tell, especially with Koushiro, considering the man was the clearest book when it came to first impressions. He felt disappointed once he checked his watch to confirm it was time for him to go to bed, the big day was closer than ever.

Suzuka was one of the last races on Formula 1’s schedule, which meant every single point counted even more. He was disappointed when he checked the weather, there was a rain forecast, but there was nothing he could do, he still was willing to give the best race he had given in his career span. His friends and family wished him the best of luck, just as he dressed up in the famous red suit.

He had never felt this overwhelmed before, as soon as he stepped a foot outside of Scuderia Ferrari’s box, the crowd chanting his name was like nothing he ever heard before. He bowed shyly, turning the shouts even louder. Fame had never been something he had been looking for once he started racing in Formula 1, but he thought at the end of the day it was only inevitable. He really wanted to make his co-nationals proud.

P4 was not a bad place to start racing, yet he could hear his heart beating up to his ears. A rainy race was always messy, and there was always a bigger risk for accidents, not just for him, but for the other racers as well. He had to drive smartly; speed was not all that mattered in that moment.

His eyes were fixated on the checkered flag, as soon as it went down, his feet went all in. Suzuka’s Grand Prix finally starting.

As it was expected, some cars lost control on the very first curve, him being noticed by his team on the other side of the microphone. He hoped nothing bad had happened to them. On a rainy race it was important to have extra control while reaching a curve, and absolutely never trying to overpass another racer while on them.

By lap 30 he had improved to P3, the engine of the previous third place had had some issues, which pushed him into the pits. The Ferrari engine had significantly been improved for the current season, and it showed. It had been a while since the red team had had both of their cars in podium position, and he was doing quicker laps than the last year’s race.

Everything appeared to be going according to plan, Yamato wanted to win, of course, but he was not unhappy with the third place. Yet, the unthinkable happened on lap 49, when his teammate lost control of the steering wheel. It all happened so quickly, Yamato could barely avoid the inevitable crash, which was bad enough for them to call a red flag, every racer had been sent back into pits.

His teammate had been fine, he could even walk by himself; however, his car could have been confused with garbage. A shame, really, everything had been better than what they could have imagined. Now every podium expectation fell on his shoulders, and he could hear the public screaming his name even louder, as if he was some sort of rock star.

“Only 4 laps left, you can do it,” and he was now put in second place, a bittersweet feeling inside his gut.

The final lap felt like the longest he had driven, all he truly wanted was for it to end. He was less than two seconds away from the first place, which his team kept repeating. He knew he could do it, if he tried and overtake him near the end, right after the final curve… And so, he did, winning a podium for the first time in his short Formula 1 life career. He had not done it for himself only, but for Lechner as well. It felt insane, he was no longer feeling the ground, he was still flying somehow.

Champagne soaked him as soon as he stepped out of the car, being hugged by everyone on the famous red car team. He was not easily to make cry, but he could not help the tears coming out, and he wished, if he were ever going to cry again, it better be as good of a feeling as he finally lifted the trophy for Suzuka’s Grand Prix.

#fanfiction #digimon adventure #fanfic #ishida yamato #yamato ishida #formula 1 #formula one #sorato #sora takenouchi #takeru takaishi #taichi yagami #jou kido #koushiro izumi

[sluggybasson107]

That One Feeling

Digimon

Pairing: Taichi x Yamato

2580 Words

Warnings: Reference to a fight, blood, hurt/comfort, angst(ish), not explicit yaoi

Disclaimer: I do not own Digimon. All Digimon related content belongs to Akiyoshi Hongo and Toei Animation

Summary: Yamato never meant harm. He just wanted to get away from the recent events of his life, especially his relationship with Taichi. But one thing that Yamato should have known is that in college, anything can happen.

A/N: A while back, @sakurarebin reblogged this post made by @whumpster-dumpster and tagged it “TaiYama”, and since I needed writing prompts for NaNoWriMo, I decided to write it. I usually don’t write in third-person, so this is new for me. I’m nowhere near as good of a writer as @whumpster-dumpster, but I tried!

Hope you enjoy it!

“Where is he?” A man hollered, carrying a weapon stained with blood. He looked around and walked inside the dark alleyway. Many others followed him with the same goal. Their footsteps were heard as they echoed down the alleyway.

Yamato was also in the alleyway, hiding next to a garbage bin. He held his breath as he curled himself into a ball, trying to blend with the darkness. The voices of the men reached his ears, making tears threaten to spill from his eyes. 

Fear struck him as two of the men passed by. Thankfully, it was in the middle of the night, so the men were not able to see Yamato. The game of hide-and-seek continued as the men moved into a different area. Yamato let himself sigh in relief, but the feeling didn’t last long. Others still looked for him, saying death threats under their breath. He pressed his ripped shirt onto his skin, trying to stop the bleeding from his arm. Please go away, he thought. Yamato must have sat in his spot for more than an hour, waiting for the men to leave.Yamato looked up from his spot. Are they still here? He stopped to listen, but no footsteps or voices were heard. He checked his pockets for his phone but realized that he must have lost it. There was an exit for the alleyway, but it seemed too much effort to get up and walk. 

Yamato tried to get up, but immediately winced and fell into his small puddle of cold blood. His legs were shaking in response. He banged his head on the cold wall behind him. Is this where he'll spend his last moments? His whole life ends here, without any of his friends and family knowing how he died or where he is? It can’t be.

Yamato grabbed the garbage bin as he hoisted himself up. He leaned against the bin as he took deep breaths from the sudden movement. He looked down to see blood stains splattered on his body. Everywhere hurt, especially his left arm. Yamato tried to take a step but immediately moved his foot backwards. The night sky reminded him that there was no help nearby. Most college students and teachers were sleeping.

“Anyone, please help,” Yamato whispered, opening his dried, bloodstained lips. The wind only responded to his plea.

Yamato closed his eyes. He remembered how he promised Taichi that he would hang out with him tomorrow. That his college essay was due in a week. That Takeru’s birthday was around a month away. He thought about all the things that he was going to miss if he didn’t move.

Yamato took a step towards the exit. Pain shot up his leg like a bullet.

He imagined his friends and family worrying about him, having search parties to find where he was. He saw their expressions as they looked at his lifeless body in the alleyway. Out of all of them, Taichi’s was the worst. His face was as white as the clouds. Silent tears fell from his eyes. Yamato couldn’t do that to Taichi.

Yamato gripped onto a ledge in the wall as he took two more steps. He almost tripped onto the cemented ground. His legs shook as he clutched the ledge on the wall.

Suddenly, a memory of last week popped into his mind. It was after his morning classes, and Yamato was eating lunch alone at his college. That’s when Taichi showed up. You don’t go here Taichi. You’re going to get in trouble, Yamato said. But I can’t let you eat alone! Taichi responded, laughing and digging into his lunch. Yamato remembered a feeling that he hasn’t felt in many years bloom inside his chest during that moment. It was warm as the sun and it made him smile. When’s the last time he smiled like that? Eighth grade? Ninth?

Now that he thinks about it, it might be his fondest memory.

Yamato kept on taking more steps towards the exit, despite the scars and scabs that ripped at every move. He didn’t want this to be his last moment. His last memory. He wanted his last moment to have that same feeling. Besides, he still had a whole life to live.

Yamato felt his surroundings were familiar when he came out of the alleyway, even though it was night. But he couldn’t figure out where he was.

Yamato attempted to walk more, but after a few feet, he collapsed onto the sidewalk, panting. His vision went blurry as he looked down at his arm. How much blood has he lost? He didn’t even want to know. He brushed his scars on his pale left arm stained with blood with his cold hand. Yamato immediately pulled back his arm and winced. It stung more than a bee sting.

That’s when he saw someone walk down the sidewalk. Yamato instinctively went silent. As the figure went closer, Yamato immediately called out to them, recognizing the figure with his infamous hair. “Taichi!”

The figure stopped dead. “Yamato? Is that you?” Some rustling was heard near Taichi. Suddenly, a phone light appeared in his vision. A gasp was heard as Taichi ran to Yamato. “Oh my gosh, Yamato what…” Taichi knelt in front of Yamato, taking in his appearance.

Silently, Taichi studied him. He tilted Yamato’s chin up to get a better look at his face and the evidence of the fight. Taichi delicately thumbs away the streak of blood by Yamato’s mouth, saying nothing as they examine it. After a brief pause, Yamato’s heart skips a nervous beat as Taichi looks them dead in the eyes. His voice was quiet and tense, their anger barely restrained. “Who did this to you?”

Yamato’s heartbeat sped up as he felt Taichi’s caramel eyes gazed at him, wanting an answer. “I don’t know.” Tears formed at Yamato’s eyelids as he looked away. Why was it so hard to be with him? He started to shake as the tears ran down his bruised cheeks. “I don’t know Taichi.” Taichi pulled him into an embrace. He drew circles on Yamato’s back as Yamato sobbed into Taichi’s arms.

After Yamato quieted down. Taichi gently picked up Yamato and started to carry him. Yamato gripped onto Taichi’s shirt, whimpering. Despite Taichi being slow with moving Yamato, it still hurt. “You okay?” Taichi asked. Yamato nodded.

Even though Taichi was right next to Yamato, he felt distant. As if his mind was at another place. Yamato wanted to ask him if he was okay, but he didn’t have the courage to do so.

When they entered Taichi’s apartment, Taichi set Yamato down on his bed and ran into the bathroom. Yamato tried not to stain his sheets, but he already got blood on it. His whole body felt numb at this point. He relaxed and shut his eyes.

“Yamato?” Taichi pushed open the door. “Yamato!” Taichi shrieked as he dropped his supplies. He ran over to the bed. Yamato’s eyes shot open at the sudden movement. He saw Taichi two inches from his face. A blush formed on Taichi’s face as he moved away. “Don’t scare me like that.” Taichi went back to pick up his dropped items.

“Sorry,” Yamato said. Taichi sat in front of Yamato with his first-aid kit. He started to gently wipe off the blood on Yamato’s face. Even though Taichi has a more muscular build, he was surprisingly gentle with cleaning the blood off of Yamato. When he was done with that, he moved on to Yamato’s left arm. By instinct, Yamato recoiled.

“Please Yamato. It’s only going to get worse. I promise I won’t hurt you.” Taichi spoke as he offered his hand. Yamato hesitated, then let Taichi take his arm.

Taichi then took a towel damp with warm water and dabbed his arm, removing the pus and blood from there. Yamato went stiff as the pain grew. “I’m sorry Yamato.” Taichi’s face was covered with guilt. “We just need to push through.”

Taichi led Yamato to his bathroom. Yamato slowly sat down into the shower as Taichi brought down the showerhead. Yamato took off his shirt to reveal the scars and bruises on him. Taichi’s eyes widened. Yamato looked away, embarrassed. Taichi bent down to Yamato’s eye level. “What happened?”

Yamato felt the tears start to come again. “Well, I was at the bar with some friends. We were mingling in the crowd, and I met a woman.” Yamato sighed. “I didn’t have any interest in her, but we talked for an hour. Then my friends called me over and we didn’t see each other for the rest of the night.” Then, Yamato started to shake. “I didn’t want to stay any longer, since I wasn’t having much fun there. But when I left...” Yamato stopped, not wanting to continue. The brunette grabbed Yamato’s hand. Yamato…

“Then,” Yamato choked on a sob. “They came. A group of men. The leader was furious. He was dating the girl I hung out with, and he thought I was trying to ‘take’ her away. So they, they…” The rest wasn’t needed to be said. Taichi embraced Yamato in a hug. Yamato cried, filling the bottom of the shower with blood, tears, and dirt. “I tried running away into the alleyway before they did major damage. But he got my arm with something.” Yamato spoke, his sobs and voice growing louder by the moment. Taichi massaged Yamato’s back as he whispered comforting words into his ear. “I keep on thinking they're about to turn around the corner, Taichi.”

“They can’t hurt you anymore. I won’t let them.” Taichi reassured Yamato. After Yamato calmed down, he broke the hug. For some reason, Taichi’s face looked hurt when Yamato moved away. What did Yamato do wrong? Taichi grabbed the showerhead and turned the water on and he washed Yamato’s arm. “Yamato?”

“Yeah?” Yamato responded with.

“Are you going to tell the police?”

“No. What good will it do?” The only sound that was heard was the running water. Taichi shut the water off when Yamato’s wounds were washed and Taichi helped him up. Yamato put an arm around Taichi and limped back into Taichi’s room.

Yamato settled onto Taichi’s bed after washing his arm, Taichi opened up the first aid and took out bandages. Despite Yamato’s protests of ‘I can do it’ and ‘You don’t need to do that’, Taichi silently started to bandage up Yamato’s left arm and other small cuts. He made sure not to make the bandages too tight or loose and cause pain for Yamato.

When Taichi was done, Yamato suddenly realized that he was still shirtless. “Taichi,” A blush formed on Yamato’s face. “Can you get me my shirt? We left it in the bathroom.” Taichi mirrored Yamato’s blush. But instead of going into the bathroom, Taichi opened one of the drawers in his room and took out a black shirt.

“Your’s is ripped up pretty bad. You can borrow mine for now.” Taichi walked back to Yamato with the shirt. Taichi delicately put on the shirt for Yamato, dodging all of the bandages and bruises to make it less painful.

Taichi checked the clock. “It’s almost six o’clock. Luckily it’s Sunday.” Yamato didn’t even realize how much time went past. Taichi headed towards the exit. Yamato tried to get up and follow, but Taichi stopped him. “You stay here. It’s better for you to rest.”

A few minutes passed by. Yamato took in what happened in the last hour. Why did Taichi do all of this for him? It’s not like Taichi owed him anything. He could have dropped Yamato at the local hospital and be done with him, but he didn’t. He spent his time caring for him by cleaning and bandaging his wounds. He also helped comfort him when Yamato was crying. Why would he do that? It’s not like Yamato wasn’t grateful for it. For some reason, that same memory of eating with Taichi during his lunch break kept coming up. The unidentified feeling that made him panic and blush but also happy and relaxed came in both memories. Now that he thinks about it, Yamato realized the only time this feeling comes up is when Taichi was with him.

Then, Taichi entered the room with a plate of burnt toast and two newly brewed cups of coffee. “Here,” Taichi passed a mug to Yamato. Taichi placed the toast in between them as he sat on the bed. Silence filled the room as each man took sips of their coffee and bites of the toast.

“Um, Yamato?” Taichi said after swallowing some of his beverage.

Yamato slowly lowered the coffee mug from his mouth, not wanting to disturb his injuries. “What is it?”

“There’s been something that I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.” Yamato’s heart skipped a beat. What does he want?

“About what?” Is it about last night? College? If it’s that, why does Taichi seem so nervous?

“About us,” Taichi responded. Yamato turned to face Taichi but immediately regretted it as the pain grew in his chest when he saw his upset face. “We’ve-Well, I’ve been thinking about...” Taichi trailed off. Yamato reached for Taichi’s hand to comfort him but stopped mid-air. Taichi saw his hand and looked at him, disappointed.

Shouldn’t have done that, Yamato.

Why couldn’t Yamato comfort him? Instead, he watched Taichi stare into the distance. “Uh, I,” Taichi turned to Yamato with his face as red as a tomato. “I like you, Yamato!” Taichi shouted. Somehow, his blush became darker. “I like you. More than a friend.” He said softly. What? Yamato’s face went dark red. That same feeling that’s been on his mind burst inside of him, like a fire that was lit. Taichi likes him? Yamato tried to speak, but nothing came out.

Taichi looked away, embarrassed. “I’m sorry I said that.” Taichi got up and ran out of the room. What was Yamato thinking, hesitating when he felt the same way?

“Wait!” Yamato shouted. He attempted to run after Taichi, but he fell onto the floor. Pain erupted in his body as it made contact with the ground. He felt lightheaded as he tried to sit up. “Please...”

Taichi immediately turned around and headed back to Yamato. “Are you okay?” Taichi dropped to the ground as he checked Yamato. “I’m so sorry! This is all my fault.” Taichi’s eyes started to tear up.

Yamato looked up and he made eye contact with Taichi, who had tears falling down his face. The feeling burned brighter inside Yamato’s chest. In an act of courage, Yamato grabbed onto Taichi’s shirt and pulled him close to him. Yamato pressed his lips against Taichi’s. Warmth spread through Yamato as the kiss grew. That’s when he realized that the feeling that kept on appearing is love. Taichi pulled Yamato closer, continuing the kiss. When they broke apart, they stared at each other, flabbergasted. Yamato allowed himself to smile.“Taichi?” Yamato asked, reaching for Taichi’s hand. Taichi grasped his hand and massaged it.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you, for everything.” Yamato blushed. He leaned into Taichi, who pulled him into a hug. “I love you.” He spoke softly. He felt Taichi hug him harder in response. 

“I love you too Yamato.” Yamato broke the hug and wiped the tears away from Taichi’s face. Taichi leaned forward and gave Yamato a small kiss on the cheek. “I always had.”

#Taichi Yagami #Yamato Ishida #Taito #i have no idea how to tag this #digimon fanfiction #angst #whumpster-dumpster #Digimon #Digimon Adventure Last Evolution Kizuna #myfanfics

[jokessho]

Hi! :D about the writing prompts... maybe a Taiyama with number 53 ? (so hard to choose!! 😭 tbh all sound good Lol! )

Hello! :3 Here you go;prompt 53 (“Fuck you.” “Not with that attitude.”). This turned out a bitlonger, too, and I’m not entirely happy with it, but it’ll do for now.

@donottouchmeyoumuggle Thankyou so much :> Yes, of course I still take prompts. I’ll be getting to yoursnext (I’ll probably get both written, though can’t guarantee a timeline ororder which I’ll do them in).

To anon: Welcome tothe madness! I’ll get to it within the next few days.

“Taichi! Stop leavingyour clothes on the floor!”

Said brunet poked hishead out of the bathroom he had just entered.

“They’re dirty, so it doesn’tmatter.” He pulled his head in, closing the door, fully intent on washing allthe sweat and dirt off; he had been playing soccer in the park with some workcolleagues, and the summer temperatures guaranteed a sheen of sweat, evenwithout exercise.

Yamato, however, wasnot having it. He barged into the bathroom after Taichi, who yelped, thenglared at his boyfriend and roommate.

“Do you mind?”

“Yes. Yes, I do mind.You can’t go around making a mess, expecting me to clean up after you.”

“But you do. Besides,I said that those clothes are dirty; it doesn’t matter if they get dirtier fromthe floor.”

Yamato gritted histeeth. “That’s not the point!”

“Then what is?!”Taichi gripped the towel around his waist tighter, feeling his frustrationincrease in response to Yamato’s. It also didn’t help that his team had lostthe play-match. Taichi didn’t take well to losing at soccer.

“The point is thatyou’re making a mess, and I’m left to clean it up.”

“It’s not like you’dlet me do the laundry, anyway!”

“Not after the lastcatastrophe!”

“How was I supposed toknow that the machine locks the door after it starts? I was trying to be niceand wash your clothes, too.”

“But you forgot to putthem all in at the same time.”

“Well it only occurredto me after I started the machine. Ifigured I could just shove them in quickly.”

“I don’t even want toknow how you managed to wrench that door open. And that’s not even the point!”

“You keep sayingthat!”

“And I told you whatthe point was!”

“The point is that Iwant to have a nice, peaceful shower. And that plan doesn’t involve youbitching at me about a few stray clothes that you won’t even let me wash.”

“What the… How areyou not getting this?!”

“Getting what?”

“You can’t be a slob!You’re always leaving your sweaty clothes on the floor, and I’m getting tiredof it! I want to nip this bad habit in the bud!”

The two young men hadmoved in together three months ago, having dated since their senior year, somefour years ago. Taichi was good with putting his clothes in the hamper most ofthe time, but when it came to post-soccer clothes, they somehow ended up on thefloor.

“What is so hard aboutputting the clothes into the hamper with all the other dirty clothes?”

“I haven’t done itafter the first time, when you complained about my soccer stuff making all theother clothes smell!”

Yamato froze. “…whendid I complain about that?”

Taichi crossed hisarms over his chest, the towel staying in place, having been tucked in sotightly.

“It was in the firstweek we moved here; I came back from soccer, and threw my clothes in thehamper. The next day, you were doing laundry, and said that my clothes had madethe whole hamper stink.”

Now that he thoughtabout it, Yamato could vaguely remember having said something like that. Thewhole hamper had stunk…

“So,” Taichicontinued. “I haven’t put them in there anymore.”

Yamato blinked,thinking about the situation. “Ok, but that’s still not a good enough reason toleave them on the floor.”

“Then what am Isupposed to do with them?”

“Hang them to dry, andthen put them in the hamper.”

Taichi shrugged.“Isn’t that too much effort? I mean, they’ll dry on the floor, and then you canput them in the hamper.”

Yamato arched aneyebrow. “Excuse me; ‘you’ can putthem in the hamper?”

Brown eyes widened,their owner realising his mistake. “That’s not really what I meant—I meant thatthey can then be put in the hamper—you know: whoever gets there first…?”

Yamato threw his handsup in exasperation. “Gods! You know what? Fuck you!”

“Not with that attitude.”Taichi mumbled. He turned and entered the shower.

“Fine! See if you’regetting any for a month!” With that, Yamato stormed out of the bathroom,slamming the door after himself.

Taichi growled,turning on the shower. He waited for the water temperature to even out beforestepping under the stream.

Yamato marched intothe living room, grabbing his bass guitar form its stand. He sat on a stool hehad placed near the window.

Half an hour laterboth men had calmed down considerably, but neither was ready to apologise justyet. Well, not until Taichi remembered Yamato’s last comment.

“Yamato?” Taichi askedat the entrance of the living room.

“Hn.”

“About the one month-thing…”

“I’m sticking to it.”

Taichi, in a t-shirtand loose shorts, edged towards his boyfriend. “Reconsider?”

“No.”

Taichi was standingthree steps from the moody blond. Yamato had stopped fiddling with his bass afew minutes ago and was just staring out the window.

“You do realise thatthat means you won’t be getting any for a month, right?”

“I don’t care.”

Gritting his teeth,Taichi tried again: “Isn’t there anything I could do to make you reconsider?”

Blue eyes turned toregard the brunet. They narrowed.

“Stop treating me likeyour personal maid and I might shorten it to three weeks.”

Taichi grimaced, butthen his face softened and he kneeled next to the blond. “I’m sorry if you feelthat way. That’s honestly not how I want us to be. I’ll hang my soccer stuff upmyself and then put them in the hamper.” He leaned forward, kissing Yamato’sknee—the only place he could reach from his position. “And I’ll also do anyother chore you want me to.”

With a sigh, Yamatobowed forward, resting his head on Taichi’s. “It’s not like I hate doing mostof the chores. That’s not what I mean. I’m really sure why I got so upset aboutit. Maybe it’s just that you always expect me to be doing it all.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll helpmore in the future—without needing prompting.”

Yamato lifted his heada fraction, allowing Taichi to do the same. They smiled at each other.

“Thanks.”

#taiyama #taito #drabble #fic #ask prompt

[ruunkur]

Untitled Digimon Fanfic

Digimon AU, untitled. If you enjoy my writing, consider buying me a ko-fi! Scene from a story I’m writing based off this prompt:

I keep walking in on you making out with my roommate and I am into both of you.

AU: 02 never took place, the Kaiser never was a huge threat and faded after two years of being a nuisance. Digimon are not common place, but are still a thing.

This is unedited and likely to be published with either a chapter or completed work later on my AO3, of which other works can be found under the username Ruunkur.

"Well, are you going to do anything about it?" Hikari asked, glancing towards Takeru from where she was leaning back in the bubble filled bath.

"I don't know," Takeru said, perched on the small bathroom counter. It was a little over one in the afternoon and Hikari, after some much needed insistence from Takeru, had agreed to Daisuke's ramen testing later that evening. "Burn the couch, maybe. Who knows what they get up to when I'm not there."

"I think you're obsessing over nothing." Hikari decided stretching and staring at ceiling, considering the options. "So, you walk in on them making out a couple of times, what's the worst thing that can happen?"

"See, that's what I thought the first time. It doesn't matter, we're all guys, right? Well, then it happened the second time. The third time, I caught myself staring. Fourth time, I just walk into my room. Well, after last night, the dreams of them began." Takeru said, deadly serious.

"Are you saying that you think you have a crush on your roommate and his boyfriend?" Hikari asked, turning to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't know what I'm saying." Takeru muttered. "That's why I need your help."

"Well, you are bi," Hikari pointed out.

"We've discussed that, yeah..." Takeru frowned. "Where are you going with that statement?"

"It could be very well that you find two guys making out hot." Hikari said with a smile. "So, you see two-I'm assuming, I remember Daisuke from when we were in grade school-handsome men making out. They match up with your type, at least one dark haired, possibly both athletic. Now imagine them-"

"I don't want to objectify my roommate." Takeru protested, cutting Hikari off with a groan. "I'm havng a hard time enough without those thoughts flashing around me head. Thank you Hikari,"

"You're welcome Takeru. Do you watch porn?" Hikari inquired, picking up her phone from the side of the bath and looking at the messages that she had recieved in the last hour.

"Aren't you an elementry teacher?" Takeru shot back.

"What I do in my spare time is completely up to me Takaishi." Hikari said, sticking her tongue out at him. He smiled at the childish gesture, watching her put the phone back on the side of the bath.

"The answer, as you probably know, is yes." Takeru asked.

"So, what kind of guys do you usually seek out when you do watch porn? And do both Daisuke and his mysterious boyfriend manage to hit ay of your fantasy boys?" Hikari asked. "I know what you look for in female presenting partners. But what about the male ones?"

"You have too much time on your hands." Takeru pointed out.

"You don't have enough friends to talk about this with. Would you rather go to Mimi or Sora regarding this situation? Or even, gods above forbid, your brother or mine?" Hikari teased.

"There's Jyou and Koushiro too," Takeru tried, though he knew that defense was weak.

"Face it, I'm the only one that you would want to talk to this about because I won't make you feel extremely uncomfortable regarding the subject." Hikari replied, tipping her head back against the edge of the bath and just relaxing in the water while she waited for Takeru to come up with some sort of defense for himself.

"Want to know the worst part?" Takeru asked finally, needing to break the silence with something.

"How can it get worse?" Hikari inquired, Takeru rolling his eyes at the tone of her voice.

"Every time I see Daisuke's boyfriend, I remember the Kaiser, that disappeared from the digital world after nearly two years of trying to get at him. Remember that?" Takeru asked.

"Yeah, we never figured out what happened. Everything went peaceful after that." Hikari agreed. "But how does Daisuke's boyfriend remind you of the Digimon Kaiser?"

"His hair," Takeru said. "Especially after they get done making out. It's...so poofy."

Hikari is silent for a moment, slowly shaking her head. "We figured that the Kaiser got eaten, there's no way he's still around."

"I guess, but it's a thought." Takeru sighed, slumping on the counter.

"Are you saying that you were crushing on the Kaiser when we were younger?" Hikari asked, eyes widening at the thought.

"I was not-" Takeru blushed, stumbling over the words. "I mean, that is, I was..."

"You had a crush on the Kaiser." Hikari grinned.

"Fine, I found him...attractive in the 'Oh damn, I would like him to walk all over me' when we were teenagers. When we were fighting him, he was an ass."

"You had a crush on him," Hikari said, struggling to keep the laughter out of her voice.

"Okay, I would have had a crush on him if he hadn't been intent on taking over the digital world and subjecting the digimon to be his slaves." Takeru tried.

"And then he vanished..." Hikari began.

"And afterwards, I used him as a springboard-"

"A springboard?" HIkari chuckled.

"He's dead, he was safe!" Takeru protested. "Besides, it's not like there were many other teenagers around my age that I could crush on without them finding out."

"I'm never going to let you live that down." Hikari said with a grin.

"You had a crush on Yamato when we were eight." Takeru said, his face going stoic. "You had a diary entery questioning if you and he were meant to be."

"You promised to never tell!" Hikari squeaked, flicking water at Takeru.

"Don't ever mention the fact I figured out I was bi by the evil emperor of the digital world." Takeru said, hiding his face in his hands.

"We can agree to conceed this," Hikari decided, tipping her head back.

"Thank you," Takeru said, lapsing into silence and relaxing until Hikari spoke once more.

"Why don't you go get food so I can finish showering?" Hikari suggested, getting up from the bath. Takeru turned, giving her the privacy requested and shutting the door behind him. He walked into the kitchen, looking through the fridge and considering the options of what to eat. He stared into it, his mind wandering to having watched Daisuke make ramen more than once.

#Writing Tag #Digimon #Digimon Adventures #Digimon Adventure 02 #AU #This is not edited as of yet

[wordfighter]

28 days of love - Natsuko/Hiroaki

Summary: Years after the divorce Natsuko and Hiroaki decides to move back together. Type: Short story/fanfiction Words: 1536 Cathegory: Digimon Genre: Family Rating: K+ Characters: Yamato, Takeru, Natsuko & Hiroaki Warnings: A kiss. Guaranteed confusion.

This piece actually belongs to an AU I have not written much for, so dear reader, I’m sorry but you probably won’t get much about what’s going on here. And explaining everything would make a longer essay than the story.

Prompt: Write about your first ever OTP (even if you hate them now)

Read here or on ff.net

”So how's school been lately?”

Yamato looked at his father, and poked around in his food.

”Like it's always been. Taichi's a doofball and the teachers hate me.”

Hiroaki laughed.

”I'm sure it's not that bad.”

”Yeah, right. Taichi got a higher grade than I did during our last essay, and mine contained more detail and more correct information than his did. It's not fair. And don't give me that crap about life never being fair.”

Hiroaki lifted his hands in defence.

”Wouldn't dream of it. So nothing special has happened?”

Yamato shook his head.

”Nothing. Why the sudden interest?”

”No reason, it's just that we rarely get a chance to talk.”

”There's something you want, isn't it?”

”Well...”

”I knew it. So, what is it?”

Hiroaki poked around a bit in the food on his plate, biting his lip.

”Natsuko and I've been talking and... well... we've decided to move back together.”

Yamato raised an eyebrow.

”Why?”

”Ah, err, well... You see, neither of us really wanted a divorce actually and... err... It was just... That was for the best at that time, but we've put that time behind us now and...”

Yamato coughed before leaning back in the chair.

”I don't understand. What's changed?”

Hiroaki caught something in Yamato's eyes and smiled.

”How much do you know?”

xxxxx

”No, no, the books goes in the other box. The one next to... not that one. Hiroaki, are you even listening?”

Natsuko tried to sound stern, but the smile on her lips gave her true feelings away and Hiroaki threw a stuffed animal in her direction. He took up the books from the box and put them in the one Natsuko had been pointing at.

”Why do you have this much stuff anyway?”

”I bet you'll just throw everything out.”

”Not really, I left the packing to Yamato, he's better at it than I am. Beside, this way I can help you out instead.”

He put his arms around Natsuko and pulled her into a tight hug, giving her a quick kiss on her cheek, making her blush.

”Help me out by not keeping it organized?”

”We're going to pack everything up once we get there anyway, there's no need to try and organize it.”

”You think Yamato and Takeru will like it?”

”Yeah, speaking of that, mom...”

Natsuko turned towards the door when she heard Takeru's voice, and Hiroaki let go off her.

”Why didn't you let us follow along to look at the apartment?”

”You didn't even like the idea of moving in the first place.”

Takeru smiled.

”No, but I'm glad that we're going to be a family again. Anyway, I've packed my stuff, need any help here?”

”Not really, but if you feel like it you can start in the kitchen. We'll join you as soon as Hiroaki stops fooling around.”

”I'm not fooling around.”

Hiroaki leaned in to give Natsuko another kiss, but Natsuko teasingly moved away, causing Takeru to laugh.

”Anyway, are we all changing last name to Ishida now, or what?”

”I...”

Natsuko looked at Hiroaki, not really knowing what to answer. He simply shrugged and went to put some more books into the box and Natsuko smiled towards her son.

”I think I'll let you make that decision yourself.”

”Haaaai.”

Takeru turned his back towards his parents.

”Just make sure to pack. No grown-up stuff going on until you're done.”

With those words he left the room and Natsuko shook her head, smiling towards Hiroaki.

”You heard him, we'll have to wait until we're in our new apartment.”

”Hai, hai. So, the books go into this box, right?”

Natsuko rolled her eyes, still smiling.

”Whatever you say, dear.”

xxxxx

The door to the apartment opened up before Natsuko was able to put the keys into the keyhole. Yamato smiled at her and Takeru as he held the door open for them to enter.

”Welcome to casa de Takida”, Yamato said.

”Takida?” Takeru laughed. ”Best you could come up with?”

”Sounds better than Ishashi any day, though.”

”True, true.”

Takeru kicked off his shoes before rushing into the apartment, to check out all the rooms, but Natsuko stayed in the hallway with Yamato.

”How did you get here anyway, Yamato?”

”Dad left the keys to the car, so I drove.”

”You know you're not allowed to yet.”

”I know, but I figured I could get started with unpacking instead of just twiddle my thumbs. That gets boring fast. Dad's not with you?”

Natsuko shook her head.

”He's helping them load up the truck, they should be here in a couple of hours. Did he leave his keys at your place as well?”

Yamato nodded, but smiled.

”No worries, we have a spare key outside the door. We're both pretty good at locking ourselves out. Takeru, the small bedroom is mine!”

Takeru popped his head into the hallway, giving Yamato the puppy-eye look.

”That won't help, you know. I'm not sharing bedroom with Jun.”

”But then I'll have to share a bedroom with Daisuke!”

”So? He's your twin!”

”And she's yours!”

”Still not sharing with her. You know how awkward it would be?”

Natsuko laughed and left the two boys to their quarrel. Yamato had done a good job at unpacking it seemed like, and he had even figured out how they had decided to split the rooms between them, since there wasn't enough rooms to give everyone their own. She quickly located the master bedroom, where she and Hiroaki would be sleeping, and went inside to check it out. Yamato  had already laid out a thick carpet on the floor as well as put a small lamp by the window. She settled down on the carpet, finally letting it all sink in. They were going to be a family again, just like she had always wanted.

She heard the quarrel between her two sons coming to a halt as Yamato's cellphone rang and only half a minute after that Yamato popped his head into the room.

”Dad's on his way now. Want me and Takeru to go out and fill up the fridge?”

”Sure, Takeru's not a big fan of packing and unpacking anyway. Just make sure you come home with something edible and not just sweets, alright?”

”No problem. See you later.”

With that he left her alone again and a small smile made it's way to her face. He had changed so much since the divorce, it was going to be fun to get to know him again. As well as all her other children, which she had rarely even seen since she gave birth to them.

She heard the door close as the boys left the apartment and left the room to see what more Yamato had brought over during his illegal trip. Apparently all of the kitchenware, since the cupboards were already filled with plates and glasses. As Yamato had said the fridge was empty, except for two bottles of beer, probably belonging to Hiroaki. Yamato seemed to also have decided which of the two bathrooms he'd make his and Natsuko let out a sigh. There would probably be a lot of bathroom arguments in their near future. Alas, this was the best apartment they could find that was affordable.

The door to the aparment opened up again, and Hiroaki stumbled in, followed by two muscular men carrying a sofa between them. She greeted her former husband with a kiss before showing the men where to put the sofa.

”Natsuko, what are we doing with the other sofa?”

”Oh, right, you had one too. Put that one in Takeru and Daisuke's room, I bet they'd like to have one.”

Natsuko and Hiroaki helped move the rest of the furniture as well as all the boxes from the moving truck to the apartment. When that mission was done they went back up to check on the mess that had been made. Natsuko looked at the small dinner table they'd brought from her former home.

”We need to get a bigger table.”

”And beds for everyone to sleep in, as well as desks so they can do their homework. Well, ready to start unpacking, or shall we wait for Yamato and Takeru to do it?”

Natsuko laughed, gave her partner a hug, before dragging him to the master bedroom.

”Let's start with this room, it's the most important one anyway.”

Hiroaki smiled towards Natsuko, before both of them went to work.

xxxxx

The sky was clear and Natsuko and Hiroaki looked at the stars as they sat on the balcony in their new apartment. It had taken a couple of days, but they had finally gotten everything in order and were ready for the rest of the family to move in with them.

”I can't believe that after all these years we're finally going to be a whole family again.”

Hiroaki grabbed Natsuko's hand and gently squeezed it in his.

”I know. I've missed you, Natsuko.”

”I've missed you too.”

She raised a glas of wine she held in her hand.

”To renewed relationships.”

He smiled, lifted a bottle of beer and carefully hit Natsuko's glas with it.

”To renewed relationships.”

With that he leaned in and gave her a deep kiss.

#english #fanfic #digimon #genre: family #rating: K+ #character: yamato ishida #character: takeru takaishi #character: natsuko takaishi #character: hiroaki ishida #challenge: 28 days of love

[jokessho]

Fic: Sunshine

I was bored at work, so I wrote a pointless TaiYama.

Taichi, 23-year-old business intern, was staring out of his apartment’s window—well, more like his and his boyfriend’s shared apartment’s window. Taichi and Yamato had moved into the rented apartment on the outskirts of Kyoto five years ago, when they had started university. Taichi had finished his studies a year ago, and had been an ‘intern’ at his company since then. His boss wanted to keep Taichi as a permanent worker, but couldn’t justify a proper opening on his team just yet. Thus, Taichi was stuck with the intern title—not that he really minded; the hours were more lenient.

Yamato, on the other hand, was still studying psychology and wouldn’t be done for years. He was also working part-time at a local high school as a counsellor. He was usually given the kids that had trouble at home; he was currently writing a thesis on the topic.

Taichi stretched his arms above his head, yawning. It was a Saturday morning, but, despite their best efforts, the two males had not been able to sleep until noon. They were both used to getting up early during the week, so lying-in didn’t seem like an option to their internal clocks. Taichi could have lazed in bed, but Yamato tended to get agitated when he wasn’t doing something, so he had gotten up and gone to take a shower. Well, Taichi hadn’t felt like lying in bed alone, so he had gotten up and drawn the curtains.

After almost a week of nonstop rain, the sun had finally come out and was basking the world in a warm orange glow. Taichi observed the sun’s rays extending further across the wet streets and rooftops. The rays caused the drops of water to glitter joyously, much like Taichi’s brown eyes as they took in the sight.

“But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?” Came Yamato’s deep voice from the door of the bedroom. His long, lean legs carried him over to Taichi’s side in a second. “It is the sun. And it’s about fucking time.”

Taichi burst out laughing. “Did you just end a Shakespeare quote in a swear?”

“Yes.” Yamato leaned into his boyfriend, gazing outside. “It’s been 28 days since I’ve seen the sun shine.”

Taichi snorted, rolling his eyes. “That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”

Yamato was silent for a while, both males watching the sun climb higher into the sky. “It’s from a song.”

“Ah.”

Taichi wrapped his arms around Yamato’s towelled waist, leaning his head on the blond one on his shoulder.

“Nah, Yamato… Can you make me pancakes?”

“Sure.”

“Now?”

“Sure.”

“Why aren’t you moving, then?”

“Why aren’t you letting go of me?”

There was silence as the sun’s rays entered the men’s bedroom.

Taichi tightened his grip and Yamato released a gentle breath, sinking further into the brunet.

“Maybe I don’t need the pancakes right now.”

“We could just have brunch later on.”

“That sounds good to me.”

Yamato smiled, and moved so that he and Taichi were standing face-to-face, though the blond buried his face into Taichi’s shoulder. Pale, still-damp arms wrapped around Taichi’s bare torso. The brunet’s arms were still around the other’s waist, squeezing tightly.

“Thank you, Taichi.”

If possible, the tanned arms tightened. “What’s wrong?”

Yamato pulled back slightly, smiling at his boyfriend. “Nothing. Can’t I just thank you for being here?”

Taichi tilted his head, searching the bright blue eyes for any hint of sadness. He found none, so he just smiled back pecking the blond on the lips. “Then I should thank you back.”

“You don’t have to.” Yamato said with a small shake of his head.

“But I want to. So, thank you, and I love you.”

The sun crept further into the room, lighting up the few clothes strewn messily on the floor, as if trying to distract the two men from gazing at each other. It seemed to work, too: Yamato’s eyes landed on the clothing, face twitching in annoyance.

Noting the look, Taichi laughed lightly and pulled away. He stretched again, watching as Yamato moved towards the clothes. An idea came to Taichi and a smirk spread across his face.

“I’ll be borrowing this.” Taichi said whilst yanking the towel from around the blond’s waist.

With an undignified yelp, Yamato jumped up, glaring. “Taichi!” His anger was quickly replaced by embarrassment, as he tried to cover himself with a stray t-shirt.

Taichi just laughed, swinging the towel over his shoulder and leaving the room.

“Jackass.” Yamato mumbled, glaring at the empty doorway, face tomato-red. He quickly made his way to their wardrobe, pulling fresh boxers from his drawer. There was no one in the room, and it wasn’t like Taichi hadn’t seen him before, but somehow it seemed crucial that Yamato get dressed as fast as possible.

In a poor attempt at revenge, Yamato picked out Taichi’s favourite hoodie and pulled it on. It was blue and quite large for either man, but it was comfortable.

Disregarding trousers, Yamato picked up the stray clothes and dropped them on the floor in front of the bathroom. Both Taichi and their washing machine were in there. He then made his way into the kitchen, getting bowls and ingredients out.

Yamato heard the bathroom door opening, and could hear Taichi gathering the clothes and shoving them into the machine. The brunet wasn’t trusted with the detergent or settings, but it made Yamato smile when Taichi put the clothes in or hung them up after the programme had finished. It was the little things like these that made Yamato realise just how intertwined the two had become in each other’s daily lives.

“What are you smiling about?” Taichi asked, hugging Yamato from behind and shoving his hands into the hoodie’s pocket.

“Nothing, really.”

“But something all the same.”

“Maybe.” Yamato hedged, whisking the pancake batter. “Could you please set the table? Get out whatever you want with these.”

“Fine, I’ll drop the subject.”

Yamato smirked, and Taichi pulled away with a quick peck on the other’s cheek.

“Thank you.”

“For setting the table or for being here?” Taichi threw over his shoulder with a grin.

“Both, anything. Does it matter?” Yamato batted back.

Taichi laughed—Yamato loved that sound—and pulled out the plates. “It would be nice to know what made you happy so that I can maybe bring it up more often, or do it to make you happier.”

Yamato paused his whisking and smiled at the batter.

The clinking of plates filled the kitchen before Taichi spoke again: “But I guess, ultimately, it doesn’t really matter, if you don’t want to share.”

This time Yamato’s hands wrapped around Taichi’s waist and a small kiss was pressed into the brunet’s neck, between his t-shirt collar and his hair.

“I was just thinking of how well we’ve managed to make this thing work.”

“What thing?” Taichi’s voice held a hint of amusement.

“Us living together.”

Taichi pursed his lips, thinking that over. “I suppose we have managed to integrate our lives quite well. I mean, it’s not like it was always easy or anything, but I’d say things are pretty damn good now.”

Yamato hummed his agreement, moving back to the stove and turning on a hob. Behind him, Taichi was laying various condiments on the table.

Yes, Yamato thought, as he flipped the first pancake, things were pretty damn good as they were.

#fic #taiyama #fanfiction #taito #sunshine #one-shot #sea queen