#the day we all realise that things were caused as a collaboration of all the character bouncing of each other

[bangchansgirlsblog]

OH. MY. GOD.

Need a part 2 of the Hyunjin introducing his gf fic !!!

And for requests maybe skz chan and reader get into an argument and the other members side with him too cause of a misunderstanding and u feel wronged so u go off the grid like Mia without your phone and when they realise that it was just a misconception they call u but you're obvi not picking up ...and they show up to your apartment or sum but you ignore them?

I love your writing so much ASJSJFJDJSJA

“The fight”

-Chan

Warning: Angst

Pairing: Chan x reader

Summary: the fight over who sings what and why you can’t sing a specific part

HELP- DHURHEHS to whoever requested this I’m so sorry 😭I’m gonna make an actual better one yeah? Just bear with me on this one. 🩷

I had such bad writers block and I couldn’t think of anything 😔

**

Being in a relationship with one of your band mates is hard. It's the hardest thing you'll do and you'll probably end up broken up and out the band.

That didn't happened to me (thank God) but the day they told us that we had a comeback soon and we also had tour coming soon we all knew this was fighting season.

The season where we all fought each-other and couldn't stand each-other because of all the hours in the studio rooms together.

The season we all stepped on each-other's toes or bumped into one another learning new choreography.

The season where we had to learn 10+ dances with 15+ different concepts. Makeup 24/7 to hide our eye bags and avoid fans with the same questions. "What's the new album about?" Or "do we have a Y/n and Chan collaboration??"

Comeback season was the season where anxiety was high and our coffeee intake was higher and I was slowly losing my patience.

I was a ticking time bomb.

"Chan I think that I.N's verse should go here," I tell my boyfriend who was sat on his rolling chair. We were all sitting in the studio and throwing ideas back and forth the whole straykids song. "See if I.N sings this part then I'll sing this part cause I can't sing that high note Chan. I really can't."

"Changing that will have to make us change everything again babe because I.N's voice can't go right after Seungmin's voice then back to your voice," He sighs while rubbing his tired eyes and yanking at his hair.

This song was getting to all of us. It was the last one after all so it had to be the best song in the album. The best one so stays could sing along.

"Chan's right because then me and Han will have to change verses again, which will mess up the whole song." Changbin adds on. He was laying on Hyunjin's lap while Hyunjin slowly scrolled through whatever it was he was on.

"I know but you guys gave me the hardest part and you know I'm singing all the high notes in almost all songs!" I exclaim and roll my eyes.

This wasn't our first argument today. It was obvious but we had to get everything done. Even if this was our 20th argument we had to get everything done. That's all that mattered.

"Y/n. You don't have to be so difficult. Just do it," Chan says while putting down his book and pen and letting out another frustrated sigh.

I frown at the fact that they refused to listen to me. Nothing would have to be difficult if they just listened.

"I'm not being difficult I'm just telling you guys my voice won't be able to handle-"

"Y/n you've complain this whole day, can you just please stop. My head is banging," Leeknow cuts me out. He was laying in the corner on the couch. Head down with a hat on. "Look I love you but just do it. It can't be that hard," He grumbles and closes his eyes.

The boys were all silent clearly not going to back me up and it hurt. I wasn't being annoying. I know I wasn't because my voice ached. My voice was strained and they didn't even care.

My vision goes blurry as I just sit back and keep quiet, not daring to speak because of the fear of my voice failing.

"Can you not cry right now please? You've cried the whole day too and I'm tired of it. You can't cry out of every situation," Chan, my boyfriend, MY boyfriend says y heart breaks into millions of pieces.

His eyes go wide as he realizes the damage his caused. His body quickly turning to my direction as he reaches out for my hand.

"Really Chan? Are you being Foreal right now?" I get up from the chair I was in. The hot tears starting to slowly fall down my cheek.

"No wait babe I didn't mean that-"

"Maybe if I'm such a cry baby I shouldn’t be in the fucking group." I spit at him with so my venom in my tone.

"No babe I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that, okay? Let's just chill out right now."

If they thought I was this horrible they should just kick me out of the team. They clearly won't listen to me. Why would Chan treat me like this?

"Why do you guys never listen to what I have to say about anything? Y'all always just do what you want!" I exclaim and get up from my chair causing Chan to stand up and the boys to pay attention.

"We do listen to you baby, sometimes is just that your ideas aren't the best and affect all of us."

"I'm trying to tell you that I can't hit that note and Seungmin can, why do you have to be so difficult about it?"

"I'm the difficult one? I'm the difficult one?" He exclaims and throws his hands up in the air.

"Y/n maybe let's not start an argument right now," Felix interrupts our conversation making me glare at him.

I glare at Felix as more anger fills me.

"Felix are you really taking his side right now?"

"I'm not in just saying we shouldn't be arguing like this, it's getting too much!"

"Okay then I'll leave-"

"Are you serious right now bro? We have things to do," Han says jumping into the argument.

"Then do them without me! I'm done with this." I start grabbing my stuff and furiously wiping my now flowing tears.

"Ugh!" Chan growls and throws something at the wall causing my to jump. I look up at him and watch him rubbing his temples and mumbling words.

I was clearly not going to be listen to and I was clearly being "difficult". I refuse to be around any of them. Atleast not right now.

Without hesitating I grab my stuff and walk out the door hearing a "No wait don't go!" Before I slam it.

But then the door automatically opens right after and I hear my name being called.

"Babe stop, come back. I'm sorry okay?" I hear Chan's footsteps getting closer to me. I don't even bother to look his way but his hand had already wrapped around mine and he turned me around.

"Leave me alone Chan. I'm tired of fighting you."

"I'm not fighting you baby, let's talk please? Let's figure it out." His hand quickly wraps around my waist as he pulls me to somewhere quiet.

I look at him eager for him to start the conversation and he can sense it.

"Tell me why you don't want to sing that part of the song when we both know you can,"

He softly says as his hands rub mine.

"Chan it's nothing.."

"It's something because something's wrong and you're not telling me."

"My voice.." I start before clearing my throat and looking into his eyes that we're searching for mine "My throat hurts everytime I sing now and I'm slowly losing it Chan,"

"What? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't want to worry you-"

"Baby I am supposed to worry about you, I'm still your group leader and anything that happens to you will be braught back to me. Have you checked with the medical stuff?"

"Yeah I did, they said I should be put on vocal rest."

"That's really bad baby, you should have just told us and we could have figured out stuff, I'm sorry I tried to push you,"

"It's okay, I know I can be a handful sometimes,"

"No don't say that, your not a handful. We just have to listen to you and stop being jerks."

"Yeah I can agree with that." I let out a chuckle and he smiles.

"I love you," his hands wipe my tears and he kisses my forehead.

"I love you too baby."

"Let's go back in the studio and I'll explain everything to the boys yeah? I'm sure they'll be more lenient now." He softly says and intertwines our fingers.

**

Thank you for the request baby🩷

#skz comfort #skz imagines #skz angst #skz x reader #skz drabbles #skz fluff #skz stay #skz x y/n #skz x you #stray kids drabbles

[tomdutch]

back to back | tsh

synopsis ⇢ your and your best friend’s treehouse is your sanctuary. even though you’re only there in the summer (which means you only see tom every summer), it’s been your safe space for your entire life. after a certain surgery on a certain someone’s mole, you find your heart beats a little louder in his presence. now, seven years later, you’re back in the treehouse, and tom still makes your heart pound. even when you don’t want him to.

↳ childhood friends to lovers, actor!tom

genre ⇢ fluff & very light angst

word count ⇢ 5.7k

note ⇢ this is a collaboration with the lovely lia @justapurrcat​ for a sleepover hosted by @tshwritersnet​ !! we split it up in half so the deliciously longing first scene is all hers :’) our prompts were “2. tracing a finger across your lover’s scar” + “47. complimenting your best friend over small things, that realistically only someone who’s in love with that person would notice.” i had such a fun and frustrating time breaking my writer’s block with this, so much thanks to lia for partnering up with me 🥺

Nothing beats a first day of holiday, you thought to yourself, closing your eyes and spreading your arms, taking a deep breath of fresh air, ready to leave behind the long ten months that had brought to this.

You loved the countryside, and most importantly, you loved that place: it was a wonderful scenario where you could be free to fully experience your 2005 Pride and Prejudice fantasy. Not that you were particularly fond of walking per se, but hey, the great lengths a young dreamy girl would be willing to go just to savour the feeling of a Lizzie Bennet moment, and in the end, it was more than worth it.

The breathtaking views and jaw-dropping landscapes, the wind causing the skirt of your colourful dresses – promptly worn for the occasion – to float dramatically around your legs, making you feel one with the pretty flowers that sometimes you would pick to press them between the pages of your favourite books. Beautiful summer memories you would cherish jealousy for the rest of the year, waiting to get back there to form new, and even more beautiful ones.

But the best part of all that was that you got to enjoy those amazing things with Tom, who would follow you everywhere you’d go, maybe a bit confused, but still amused and curious to discover the beauty that brought you so much joy. And eager to witness said joy shine in your eyes and enlarge your smile.

Your holiday houses happened to be next to each other, and they even had a shared backyard. It had always been like that, ever since you could remember. For you, summer was that house and the Hollands being your neighbours, and you wouldn’t have changed it for the World. And when people happened to ask you why you considered a guy you would only see during that time of the year to be not only your best friend, but the best friend you could’ve asked for, you would just tell them that he was. Simple as that.

You liked to think that it was Fate’s doing and you would often joke with Tom about that, with him consequently teasing you and telling you that you read too many books, the fond look in his eyes betraying how much he liked that idea.

Finally, the treehouse came into view, your heart skipping a beat making you realise how much you had missed it. The two of you had found it by pure chance during one of your many adventures and it had become your private hideaway, to the point where not even his brothers knew about it.

The rope had been dropped. It was one of your many signals, indicating that Tom was already up there, waiting for you. You wouldn’t actually use it, opting for the more practical ladder – and also because Bridge to Terabithia had traumatised you enough.

“Tom?”, you called, but didn’t think much of it when silence was the only response you received.

You climbed up, taking a moment to admire the view once you’d got to the top, then fixed your skirt and moved the rudimentary curtain serving as a door… only for your huge smile to drop at the soul-shattering sight of your best friend curled up in a corner, right next to the Back to Back spot, a part of the wall filled with the carvings of your height marks.

He looked so small, so fragile, with his face hidden as he held his knees to his chest, and there was no need for a sixth sense to tell that there was something wrong.

Your heart sank and you were about to run up to him when you suddenly remembered what he had told you: that right before the holidays, he would get the mole on his chin removed. He’d sounded so excited on the phone, rambling about how this would be a great boost for his acting career and how he couldn’t wait to ‘get that fucking thing off his face’.

The guy you were looking at now, though, didn’t seem to have a single ounce of that excitement left in his body… and it made worry buzz in your chest.

You approached him slowly, as if the sound of your footsteps on the misplaced beams could potentially scare him. “Hey…”

“Go away”, Tom muttered, shrinking even more on himself, trying to appear smaller than he already was. You didn’t think it was possible, but he managed to do it.

“Oh, quit it, you drama queen”, you scoffed softly. “It can’t be that bad.”

“I’m serious”, he stood his ground, shaking his head, his untidy curls bouncing with the motion. “I’m doing this for your own safety”, he whined. “Please, leave me alone.”

Bringing a hand to your chest in the most theatrical way, you gasped audibly. “Are you really kicking me out? Out of our own house? The house of our kids?”

“We don’t have kids”, Tom shot back, far too lost in his self-loathing spiral to find any amusement in one of your many inside jokes. “No one will ever want to have kids with me.”

You rolled your eyes at the exaggeration, knowing you had no one but yourself to blame for being friends – no, best friends – with someone who had made being dramatic and extra into his profession. “Thank God!”, you smirked. “You alone are enough work.”

In a normal situation, Tom would’ve glared at you – and maybe even pinched your sides, taking advantage of your ticklishness, the way he always liked to do. But this wasn’t a normal situation, and Tom remained exactly as he was, his forehead still stubbornly glued to his knees. “I hate you.”

“Sure you do”, you hummed, the grin not abandoning your lips. “Come on…”, you made another attempt, kneeling in front of him. “We haven’t seen each other in so long… let me see your face.”

“It’s a stupid face”, he countered.

“And I’ve missed it”, you stated, gently poking his head, a gesture that couldn’t resist becoming a caress, which was only the first of many others, on that soft chocolate mess. “Every stupid inch of it.”

Tom relaxed into your touch as your nimble fingers ran through his locks, your nails almost imperceptibly scraping his scalp. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you”, he warned you with a sigh, then slowly proceeded to raise his head.

“There…”, you cooed, nodding encouragingly, letting go of his hair. “I’m sure it’s–oh, my God!” The sentence ended in a loud yelp, your eyes widening and your jaw dropping to the floor.

You were expecting to see a tiny fresh scar on his chin, but you definitely weren’t prepared for the one on the bridge of his nose: a small, more recent and probably just formed scab, its red matching the one of his puffy, glassy puppy eyes.

“Are you okay?”, you asked after a while, a million other questions and possible hypotheses – some tragic, some incredibly silly and absurd – clouding your brain.

“I’m fine”, Tom pouted. “My pride isn’t. But I’m fine.”

Though you still had no clue about what had happened, he seemed okay as you took him in, silently, yet anxiously scanning every part of him, searching for any out of place detail you could come up with. It was something. Not much, but something nonetheless. If anything, it eased your nerves a bit.

“What have you done this time?”, you inquired, moving to sit next to him, your back resting against the wall and your shoulder brushing against his.

“Ask Sam”, he revealed bitterly through gritted teeth, glaring at an undefined spot, like his brother was actually there with you. “That bloody sore loser.”

“I thought you were the one with the short fuse of the family”, you tried to crack a joke, even daring to nudge his elbow.

“Oh, darling”, Tom turned to look at you, a wickedly proud glint shining in his eyes. Despite his sour mood and the tears streaking his face, he wasn’t able to resist the temptation. “I can assure you I don’t have the shortest one, trust me”, he told you with such a smooth tone it made the coarse voice, usually caused by crying, sound like an obsolete myth.

Did he just…? No. No, he hasn’t.

It took you a while to fully process his sentence, coming to terms with the fact that yes, he had, and in the meantime you just gaped at him, motionless as a statue and at complete loss for words. The kinda loss for words a friend – no, a best friend – definitely shouldn’t cause in another best friend.

You held your breath, feeling something contract in your belly, while hundreds of little chills pervaded your being, the unusual tingling spreading like wildfire under the surface of your skin. Why the Hell was your body acting so weirdly? Why the Hell were you being so weird?

It wasn’t like you weren’t used to that kind of joke. They were business as usual, between you two, since Tom was one of the cheekiest people you knew. If you had to tell the whole truth, that one wasn’t even on the top-ten of his most inspired creations.

And yet now, all of a sudden, there you were staring at your friend with the unflattering verve and expression of a dead fish.

The lack of a witty remark didn’t go unnoticed by Tom, who returned your gaze with equal confusion. Only, in his case, it was mixed with a tinge of worry. “Huh… y/n?”, he called, tilting his head to the side, transitioning from cheeky little shit to cute harmless puppy in less than a second, as only he could do. “Are you still here with me?”

“Mh?”, you played dumb, blinking repeatedly and rushing to dismiss those weird thoughts and feelings, shoving them in the back of your mind, where you were positive they would no longer bother you. “Yeah, why?”

“Nothing”, he mumbled, eyeing you suspiciously for a few seconds, like he knew you were hiding something from him. “You just looked zoned out”, he then added, giving up on his search.

You didn’t say anything, and a comfortable silence descended upon you, all the turmoil that had shaken you gradually fading to nothing… at least until Tom’s face flushed the brightest shade of red you’d ever seen, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets, as if he’d just remembered something that made it impossible for him to relax.

“God, stop staring at me!”, he cried out, covering his face once again, his head sinking between his shoulders as he assumed his previous position.

“Tom…” You reached out for him, but he pulled away. “Tommy”, you pleaded, hoping it would soothe him. He hated it when people called him that, but when it came to you, he didn’t seem to mind that much. In fact, he didn’t seem to mind at all.  “Come here.”

“No”, he croaked through muffled sobs. “Please, don’t”, he begged when you gingerly placed your hand on his shoulder. “I’m hideous, y/n”, he whimpered, trembling like a leaf. “I’m supposed to work with this face. This face! Mom was right, I should’ve given up and become a carpenter”, he rambled in defeat.

“It’s not like that’s gonna prevent you from getting other scars…”, you tried to reason with him, rubbing his back gently, but the only result you obtained was that he sobbed even harder.

“Great, I’ll be a monster forever.”

Tom was so mad at himself and his stupid choices that he would’ve bashed his own head against the wall. He regretted even taking that surgery into consideration, just like he regretted getting mad at Sam and hitting him over the head with his golf club. Looking at it now, his younger brother had no faults. Yeah, he was and remained a poor player and a sore loser, but that was not the point.

The point was that it had all been Tom’s fault, and now he would have to live with the consequences of his actions. His own career was at risk, his future was uncertain. How could people ever bear to look at his face again? How could you ever bear to look at his face again?

Though he couldn’t explain why, that was the absolute worst thing for him.

“You do know scars fade, right?”

“Not the ones in my soul”, he objected.

You clicked your tongue in fake-annoyance. “That was unnecessarily dramatic. Even for you”, you complained, but not even that got a reaction out of him. “Hey, I was joking”, you clarified, afraid you might have pushed it too far. Again, your words collided with a barrier of silence. “Tommy… look at me”, you said in a whisper. “Come on, look at me.”

You carefully wrapped your fingers around his wrists, but didn’t pull, waiting for him to be comfortable enough to show you his face. You didn’t want to force him, it was only your silent way of comforting him, of telling him that he didn’t have to hide from you. Not now, not ever.

Over the years, the two of you had developed a kind of non-verbal communication that was yours and yours alone, a personal language that lived on gestures, looks and touches, a language that didn’t suffer from the limitations that afflicted your mere words. Sometimes you would talk non-stop for hours, until your throat would dry up, the sunrays illuminating those peaceful, warm, endless summer days slowly dying out, along with your voices. While some other times you would simply keep quiet, letting your hands and eyes do all the talking. Something that would’ve made anyone else nervous or embarrassed. Not you though. There was no way in the World you could ever make each other nervous.

And finally, finally, your best friend lowered his hands to look at you, the sadness in his eyes piercing through your heart like a well-sharpened dagger. But you couldn’t allow yourself to let it break you. Tom needed you, and he needed you to be strong.

So you grabbed both his shoulders and guided him to turn his torso towards you. Then, you cupped his cheeks, and for a moment you were tempted to lean your forehead against his, like it was normal. Like it was something best friends do on a daily basis.

“I don’t see anything terrible”, you smiled warmly, letting your thumbs gather the little pearls of tears staining his cheeks.

“B-but–”

“They’re just scars, Tommy”, you cut him off with a reassuring tone. “And I told you. They will fade. You’ll forget about them in no time”, you added to reinforce the concept. “Even better, they will make you look tough.”

“Shut up.” With a sniff, Tom rolled his eyes at you, trying to act like he was annoyed by what you’d just told him, but the pleased smirk fighting its way to reach his lips and the spark that animated his gaze betrayed him, telling an entirely different story.

“I mean it”, you insisted, noticing that you were on the right track. “Think of it: a man with a bunch of scars and each one of them carries a mystery with them.”

Just as you were painting that image for him – while also having no trouble picturing it for yourself – you gingerly ran your thumb over the bridge of his crooked nose and on his now bare chin. You would never admit it to a living soul, but deep down, you found yourself missing that mole. Tom hated it, but you had always found it adorable.

I wish I could’ve kissed it…

You did it without thinking, or maybe you did it because you were thinking of too many things all at once, the majority of them blooming in your brain like snowdrops coming out of their sleep under a snowy mantle of blessed ignorance.

“All the ladies will fall at your feet…”, you trailed off, entranced by a sight you had seen so many times you had literally learned it by heart, just like you would do with poems back when you were a kid, and your parents would shamelessly flaunt your ability to remember so many words when in reality you knew and understood less than half of them.

Throughout your whole life, you had always been convinced that Tom was an open book, that he had no secrets for you. How could he? He was your best friend, right?

So how was it possible that he, your best friend, the sight you had gotten so used to, looked like something you’d never seen before without having changed one bit? Could two little scars really have that much of an impact on you?

The imaginary verses you had memorised were still there, but now there was something mesmerising about them, something that had you dying to tell Tom all sorts of ridiculously cheesy and saccharine words, honey gushing from every letter. You wanted to see him blush, you wanted to be the reason behind his smile, you wanted to let him know that he had nothing to be ashamed of, that those scars were only a small part of the incredible masterpiece he was. A masterpiece you would never stop admiring, because even the pain he had gone through and the stupid things he had done made him him, a person that you loved to bits.

What the fuck is wrong with you, y/n?

You snapped out of it, finally coming to your senses. And once that golden aura had completely dissolved, allowing your vision to be clean and clear, you remembered where you were and what was going on.

And you realised that you were embarrassed. That having such thoughts about Tom was making you nervous.

That Tom was making you nervous.

The same Tom who still had your face in your hands and was staring at you with a lost expression that perfectly mirrored your own. And who made you gulp in cold sweat when his big brown eyes flickered to your mouth, his tongue licking his lips in a gesture you were sure was nothing but purely reactive.

However, you needed to do something about it. Now.

“… it will certainly help with your height if you don’t get any taller”, you scoffed, taking your hands off of him.

He frowned at you. “Shorty bitch”, he spat, wiping his cheeks and nose on the sleeve of his shirt, wincing imperceptibly because of the pain. “That was mean.”

“Says the guy who keeps using my shoulders as a support”, you replied.

“They’re comfortable”, Tom shrugged. With a chuckle, he punched your arm lightly and you released a breathy laugh of relief you didn’t know you were holding.

You chose not to question it. You chose not to question anything of what had just occurred, instead playing it down and trying to convince yourself that everything was back to normal.

“So, Miss Bennet, what are we doing today?”

It had to be.

It’s a warm June day when you’re reunited with your beloved treehouse after a long separation. Despite seven years of its isolation, its appearance remains mostly the same as you approach it, lilac dress swaying in the light bursts of wind cooling your skin every now and then. For a brief moment, while wading through the tall grass, you see a flash of light coming from one of its windows, and the breath hitches in your throat. In a second, it’s gone, and your gaze focuses on the notorious rope curled tightly against a branch.

Silly girl, one of the many voices in your head chimes out. That rope, like yourself, hasn’t felt a certain crooked-nosed boy’s touch in nearly a decade. Now, though, you suppose it’s more accurate to call him a man. He certainly earns the money and prestige necessary to deserve a mature term. If you could travel to the past and tell your eighteen-year-old self she wouldn’t be seeing her best friend for seven years, you’re sure she would’ve laughed hard enough to make the treehouse crumble. She would have never believed that the next time she’d be back at the treehouse would be a spontaneous vacation long after she graduates university.

As you approach the one place containing most of your youth’s cherished memories, your heart pangs in your chest as though it were an old drum. The last time you’d properly seen Tom was here, the summer of your eighteenth year, when his dreams of becoming a renowned actor were just learning to waddle. If you’re honest with yourself, you suppose you knew all along this would happen–Tom would succeed as an actor, because no one deserves it or wants it as much as him, and he would fly across the Earth to begin a new life of fame, glamour, riches, and millions of women prettier and more interesting than you. Even as you hugged him for the last time before he climbed down the ladder that stands before you now, a part of you knew that this was the finale of your friendship. 

Of your love.

Sure, you’ve caught glimpses of Tom every other year since your family to Kingston. The irony of them finally finding a home in your best friend’s hometown after the two of you platonically broke up is not lost on you. You can only hope they didn’t invite the Hollands to come along this year, too, even though the chances of Sony’s Poster Child finding the time to join are slim.

You’d almost even talked to him on the twins’ birthday two years ago, the only one you were able to attend in between work and studying for your master’s degree. He was standing there, holding a beer, hair styled to perfection and cheeks flushed like they always did when he’d sneak a pack up to the treehouse on those particularly hot summer nights. And your heart shattered. Of course, you weren’t under the delusional impression he’s been miserable for all those years without you, but the sight of him happy–ecstatic, really–surrounded by strangers to you… it broke you. So you left, trying to find some comfort in a feeble sense of revenge. You were the one who left him now… even though he didn’t even notice. 

Silly, silly girl.

The ladder creaks under your weight as you begin mounting up, coughing a little at the dust coating your adored house. Once you’re up there and move the curtain-door aside, it truly is like stepping into a time machine. Naturally, your eyes immediately seek out the back to back spot, the ink on it faded and cracking. It stands there, patiently waiting for the press of your and Tom’s shoulder against it as you measure your height. In another corner of the treehouse, a stack of books and comics sits, its pages crinkled from rainwater and dust. 

You take a few steps forward, fingers slowly coming up to brush over the numbers and letters on the back to back spot. 

Y/N 10 - 130 cm

Tom 10 - 126 cm

Y/N 13 - 152 cm

Tom 13 - 150 cm

At the highest point, thick, red block figures are written, underlined thrice. You recognise Tom’s loopy handwriting instantly, the words even more jagged than usual from time and the texture of the wood. 

Tom 18 - 173 cm !!!!!

A chuckle escapes you, fingertips over your head tracing the ink, and lose yourself in memories the same way you have been since coming back here. Somewhere between going fishing with Tom and his brothers and that fateful night after he removed his mole, you’re so caught up in your head that you don’t even hear the ladder squeaking or the curtain being moved aside. It’s only when a gasp sounds out behind you that you jump around, hand over your chest from the surprise.

Bathed by warm orange and yellow rays from the setting sun, Tom stands before you, honeyed eyes staring at you with as much shock as yours are. He looks the same and yet so different all at once. His messy bowl cut has been swapped for a clean-shaven half-part, kept neat by gel, and the old t-shirt and cargo shorts are exchanged for a pink Zara shirt and quality jeans. Instead of a toned, skinny boy barely an inch taller than you, Tom stands broad, biceps bulging against his sleeves and veins visible in his forearms. You’re too proud to say you might’ve seen the trailer for his latest film a few times and are thus very aware there are even more muscles underneath his shirt that were definitely not there seven years ago.

“Y/N,” he breathes out, and your name on his lips acts like an ice cube running down your spine. You shiver in mid-June as if it were winter. “Hi.” He finally says, advancing further into the treehouse.

Licking your lips, you look away from him and lean against the wall. “Hey, Tom.”

At your response, he fully enters the treehouse, saucer eyes flicking around it with nostalgic awe before he moves towards you, his arms hesitantly in the air. The way you look back at him and fold your limbs over your chest makes his drop to his sides, and you bite back a snort.

“I was going to say long time no see, but I’m a little worried you might push me out the window again.” He jokes, though you detect the smidge of fear in his voice. He’s not that good of an actor.

“Good.” You reply, and you turn your back to him, returning to your admiration of the back to back spot.

Tom sighs, the floorboards moaning under his weight when he moves until he’s right beside you. “You’re just mad you’re not the tall one anymore.”

If looks could kill.

You clench your jaw and avoid his gaze, not wanting to be petty yet not wanting to joke around with him like the past seven years never happened. A moment of unbearably awkward silence befalls you, with nothing but wind rustling leaves outside and the occasional bug to break the tension. As if that would be enough.

“So… I saw on your mum’s Instagram you graduated cum some loud.”

At the speed of a geriatric turtle, you turn your head and stare at him, jaw hanging open as though you’d just witnessed a plane crash. It happens without you being able to stop it, the first laugh tumbling from your chest, followed shortly by a high-pitched giggle. Before you know it, you’re leaning a hand against the wall as you howl with laughter, tears in your eyes for an entirely different reason now.

“Cum—cum—” You wheeze, shaking your head.

Beside you, Tom’s head tilts like a confused puppy, though he can’t control the smile that spreads on his thin lips at the sight of you guffawing. “Did I say it wrong?”

Sighing with your last laugh, you turn to him again, your face much warmer. “It’s summa cum laude.”

His mouth forms a perfect O as understanding settles, and his nose scrunches, drawing your attention to his delicate features. “Ghastly name. At least I got cum right.” The room falls silent against as your gaze traces over the dip of his chin and his now-thick neck, your mind obviously elsewhere, and Tom puts his hands in his pockets nervously. “What, no hilarious joke about me saying cum so many times?”

Like you’re in a trance, your feet move until you’re right in front of him, and you smile softly as you bring a thumb up to his chin. “Your scar’s gone.”

Confused, Tom’s eyebrows furrow and his palm covers your own over his face. Then, realisation sinks in, and he simpers, nodding ever so lightly. “Yeah, you were right after all. Scars fade.”

Time freezes as you take each other in after all of these years, eyes raking over features as his thumb slowly starts to caress your wrist, sending goosebumps across your skin. His freckles seem even brighter today, though maybe that’s because you haven’t seen them in years and he’s always wearing makeup, or the pictures are too blurry when you see content of him online. The urge to touch them is barely contained.

“You changed,” you murmur, nodding to the Rolex resting on his other wrist which definitely costs more than what you make in six months.

“I’m sorry.” He says, sincerity pooling in his eyes, and your heart cracks a little bit more.

You shake your head, letting go of his cheek, but his hand follows you, and soon both of his are holding your own, his grip tight yet gentle. “You don’t have to be, Tommy, you shouldn’t be. You’re happy now.” Whispering despite your isolation, you squeeze his palms and take a deep breath. “You are happy, aren’t you?”

“That’s not what I meant,” he answers, bringing one clasped hand up to his heart while the other finds its home in the nape of your neck. “I’m sorry for not trying harder, for not coming home more often, for not… for not being the friend you deserve.”

Biting your inner cheek, you shake your head again. “I don’t wanna talk about it. Not now,” you smile gingerly, taking another step back so your back is flushed against the wall, right next to the back to back spot, “when we’ve got more pressing matters to attend to.”

A grin cracks through Tom’s sullen expression, and he chuckles with faux exasperation. “Well, if we must avoid an awkward and painful conversation so we can measure our heights, then I guess I have to agree, don’t I?”

You pinch his side, masking your inner quivering at him being ridiculously muscular by letting out a teasing cheeky and gesturing to the spot. “Does the Tom Holland carry a special pen everywhere to sign autographs for his hordes of dedicated fans?” Tom’s eyes narrow at your jesting, but his ears redden and throat bobs, causing you to fall into another fit of laughter. “Oh my God, you so do!”

“I don’t,” he pouts, reaching for his back pocket, “it’s just a pen, it’s not for autographs.”

“Right, it’s for your diary,” you nod mockingly, squealing as he jabs you with the tip of his pen. “Wow, this ain’t no Bic. Fancy ass.”

Tom mumbles a snippy I hate you through his beam as you move to stand back-to-back, and you suddenly feel overwhelmed with certain feelings as his broad shoulders tower over you. With an arm over his head, Tom marks the top of your head and then his own, going over the lines a few times to make sure they’re clearly visible. When he’s done, you face each other again, matching grins on your faces, until it dawns on you as Tom writes your name next to your mark.

“You didn’t happen to bring a tape measure with you, did you?” You ask, cringing.

“No, I just gave out my last one to a fan at the airport.” He deadpans, snickering as you glare at him. “We don’t need one anyway, obviously I’m the superior one here.”

Scoffing, you snatch the pen from his hand out of pettiness. “Shut up, you’re still on the short side of average.”

“Not as short as you,” Tom singsongs, leaning an arm next to your head so he’s caged you in between him and the wall. This time, he doesn’t miss the way you gawk at his bicep and solid forearm. The bastard even flexes. “Besides, now that I’m taller than you, you’re the perfect height for kissing. Just have to bend my neck.”

As soon as the words leave him, Tom’s eyes widen with alarm like an intruder just pulled back the curtain on you, and yours mimic them immediately. The blush on his cheek is only more pronounced as the sunset paints your little treehouse in shades of red and yellow, and you’re sure your own flustered expression isn’t subtle, either.

“What—what did you—what do you mean?” You stutter out, throat dry as your best friend’s gaze flickers from yours to your lips.

“I was just… paying my dear friend a compliment.” He squeaks out, wincing at his own response. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I get it often.” You bite back, staring him in the eye with a challenge. “I’m always told I’m a great height for people to kiss, it’s actually on my CV. They don’t let just anyone graduate cum some loud, you know.”

Tom groans and throws his head back while you smirk, tugging on the hem of his shirt to further tease him. You bring him back close to you, so much so that his warm forehead meets yours, and his eyes open again. They’re still the prettiest shade of brown, still just as light and emotive. “You know what I meant,” he repeats, not bothering to hide the fact that he’s looking at your lips.

“No, you see, I’m just an ordinary person, I don’t understand you famous actors’ language—mhm.”

Despite your hatred of being cut off mid-sentence, Tom’s mouth on your own makes it the last thing you’re thinking about. In fact, all you can think about is Tom; the softness of his lips, the sharpness of his jaw under your finger as you trace it, the lemony, soapy scent of his cologne. You could chug it like a shot. With your back against the wall and Tom’s arms around your waist, chests pressed to each other, he kisses you with enough passion to make buildings crumble, much less an old, treasured treehouse.

When you break apart, his nose nudging your own and breathy giggles shared between you, you can’t help thinking about how you and Tom have been back-to-back your entire lives. All you needed to do to find this happiness in his arms is turn around.

#tshwritersnet #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland oneshot

[lenalvthor]

tethered playlist breakdown - ch 2: all too well

this chapter’s music centres mainly around Imogen and Ashton! because i didn’t say anything about Ashton’s musical backstory in the ch 1 breakdown, let’s start with them 🎸🤘🏼: 

Ashton

like Laudna, Ashton had a musical career as a teenager with his band The Nobodies (vibe: 2000s/2010s pop punk/punk rock, see - Five Minutes to Midnight by BOYS LIKE GIRLS or Check Yes Juliet (Run Baby Run) by We The Kings). also similar to Laudna, Ashton found themselves chewed up and spat back out by the industry they’d found a home in and were burned badly when the hamster wheel of international tours and year-after-year back-to-back albums slowed down for the first time (aka 1D vibes of burn out, band break-up + hiatuses). 

their first foray into making music again was through a single, Floating in the Night (by Judah & the Lion) which they had originally written as a more pop punk song, but Bertrand directed them towards The Crown Keepers who Ashton collaborated with to rewrite it into more of a indie/folk rock song, and who ended up featuring when the single was released. Ashton signed with Eshteross Records soon afterwards and started rebranding as a solo artist making more folk rock style music as the years passed (again, taking suggestions for what songs could be the right vibe for an album during this period). 

post 2-year-Bell’s Hells-separation-period, Ashton’s music has mellowed from the thing that’s remained so distinctive about him - the angry rock elements - which is why he is so nervous about his new music. that tone lingers a little in the lyrics and sometimes the instrumentation, but it’s not as consistent, so in the fic’s present-day, Ashton’s vibe most closely resembles Noah Kahan. 

the album Ashton’s been working on over these 2 years, and that he shows Bell’s Hells in this chapter, is:

how it is / how it was / how it has to be 

the view between villages

homesick 

growing sideways

no complaints

stick season

paul revere

call your mom

halloween 

dial drunk

new perspective

orange juice

you’re gonna go far

all my love

now listen to these songs through a different lens for me, will ya? — 

in this au, Ashton’s first real home was music; it was the industry, it was the fans, it was The Nobodies, it was discovering a queer world beyond the place they grew up. but at the same time, just like what happened with Laudna, that same home started to dig its claws in and try to tear Ashton apart without them realising. the industry, the expectations, the lifestyle, the spotlight … it became something so dangerously toxic, threatening to swallow him whole. it was the reason Ashton developed chronic pain, the industry pressure was the reason The Nobodies didn't stay together, it was the reason Ashton became angry and cynical and bitter jaded. so there was an unexpected, devastating relief when The Nobodies broke up and Ashton had an excuse to step away. even though it was his home, it was where he found himself, where he first found the thing in the world he loved to do most, where he found his first real people. 

so one of the reasons Ashton stayed away from music for as long as they did afterwards - older than many of the other Hells, just a little, having started in the industry before they did and waiting longer than Laudna between the teenage career ending and the adult career starting - was because they couldn’t figure out what to do with the conflict of the ‘place’ (the world / the lifestyle / the people / the culture) that made him also being the thing that caused him so much pain. 

how it is / how it was / how it has to be is, in some ways, Ashton’s life and career mapped in its trajectory. from meeting FCG first and toeing the line of being tied to that world, taking the long drive back (the view between villages, homesick) and being reluctantly pulled back into making music (growing sideways, no complaints), eventually signing to Eshteross Records and telling stories again (stick season, paul revere) and everything that’s happened with the Hells plot-wise (some things you know, some things you don’t, i.e. rest of the tracklist) until now (all my love).  

now, the song Laudna and Imogen mention that Laudna collaborated with Ashton on is, probably predictably: Call Your Mom ft Lizzy McAlpine. (Ashton writes it after Laudna gets back from her world tour to all the other Hells gone - Imogen especially - and Laudna and Dusk break up, and Laudna is just not doing well. Ashton first releases the original, and later that same month, a version with Laudna on it too.) also, as already mentioned in ch 2, the song Ashton wrote for + shows Imogen is you’re gonna go far because of course it is. 

Imogen

here it is, here it is, the heart of the fic, its namesake (almost all Taylor Swift songs (different albums tho!) and if you aren’t heels dug in the dirt with only listening to rerecordings, OG versions sound the most like Imogen to me) — 

tethered

breathe 

come back…be here

the story of us 

haunted 

all too well

wouldn’t come back [by Trousdale]

enchanted 

long live 

now buckle up buttercups, we’re looking at these songs through a whole new light. forget romance (mostly),  we’re doing family trauma: 

(okay, admittedly, there is romance woven into all of this because it can’t not be. but that’s not at the heart of this album, is what’s important to note.)

breathe is about Laudna, of course - about their rela—friendship falling apart after their fight two years ago, and as Laudna started dating Dusk before Imogen left. But it’s also about how Imogen saw the crumbling of Liliana and Relvin’s relationship from a young, co-dependent, whirlwind marriage to something neither of them were sure how to hold onto. 

come back…be here again, of course, is a little bit about Laudna (love how I said forget romance and here we are) — about her leaving to go on tour and follow the success of a career that’s finally controlled by her and not Delilah, about Imogen’s feelings of being left behind. but it’s also about Relvin and Imogen, being left behind by Liliana, about the faint memory Imogen has of watching her father pine for her mother as Liliana was off touring and making something of herself, Imogen and Relvin each longing for her to come back to them in Gelvaan one day but not knowing how to articulate that to each other and connect over it. 

the story of us is Relvin and Liliana once their relationship had ended and Liliana still came to see Imogen, and things were tense and uncomfortable and Imogen could tell that a chapter in her life had come to a close in front of her eyes (both for her parents and for her relationship with her mother, knowing it’ll never be the same because Liliana won’t want to come back in the same way.) 

haunted. look. I had many ‘oh my fucking god’ moments about this song. It’s my favourite Taylor song and I’ve used it for many an au, and l i s t e n. I know that for its symbolism and its imagery, could and should be about Laudna. but it’s not — this is about Liliana and Imogen. because the electric guitar and the tension and the building, growing crescendos of the whole song, the sharpness of the violins and the fury of the electric guitars all just fucking sounds to me like a storm. It’s about Imogen’s betrayal over Liliana leaving. so, you’re welcome. 

now here’s the one that fucked me the most and I am begging y’all to appreciate it with me okay — all too well. OG and not the 10-minute version. it’s the song Imogen is the most proud of and the most afraid of putting into the world because she doesn’t know if it makes sense to anybody except her. the perspective changes nearly with every line; it’s the song that blurs together the experience of Relvin, Liliana and Imogen all loving and hating and missing and losing each other. the lines between where one person’s experience ends and another’s starts is impossible to see, and the resounding message of i was there, i remember it, all too well is Imogen determined to make sure that despite Liliana’s death years and years ago, despite Relvin as good as pretending she never existed, despite Imogen having moved away and left it all behind her, none of it is forgotten; a memory of the fact that it all happened has to continue to exist. 

(and of course, that’s also the theme of this chapter.) 

It’s a mixture of Liliana’s perspective of the whirlwind, small town, young love between her and Relvin that was always doomed to end, and Imogen watching the tail end of this relationship, Relvin seeming to lock it away the second Liliana was too far for him to hold onto. it’s Imogen trying to remember, to make sense of her parents’ relationship, their family. 

and because this song is my roman empire for this au, please prepare for the fact that i’m giving you the line by line perspectives of this entire song, you’re welcome (i’m sorry): 

the first verse is about Liliana, the second verse is Relvin, the prechorus - “and I know it’s long gone…” - is both of them and Imogen. 

first chorus is Liliana and so is the verse that follows, but the second prechorus, that “there was nothing else I could do, and I forget about you long enough to forget why I needed to” is Relvin. 

the first lines of the next chorus - “there we are again in the middle of the night, we’re dancing in the kitchen in the refrigerator light” - are Relvin and Liliana, but then the “down the stairs, I was there, I remember it all too well” is Imogen, as a little girl perched on the second to last step of the staircase, watching her parents dancing to the songs they used to love when they were teenagers, bathed in the light of the refrigerator with the door hanging open to cut through the sweltering, thick, night heat of Gelvaan’s summers (and in those moments, Imogen had been so sure that the three of them would be okay).

but of course, that’s not how it unfolded, which becomes clear in that build up to the bridge. so when it climbs and climbs to the “maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much, maybe this thing was a masterpiece til you tore it all up” is Relvin and Imogen, being left by Liliana, feeling hurt and betrayed and not good enough in such different but also achingly similar ways. 

“running scared, I was there, I remember it, all too well” is Imogen and Liliana, a decade apart, running from Gelvaan, from Relvin, from a town that wasn’t enough and desperate to find more but equally terrified for that murky unknown at the same time. 

and then — “you call me up again just to break me like a promise, so casually cruel in the name of being honest” is Imogen. the experience of Liliana slowly but surely drifting away from being Imogen’s mother in a way that felt like such a betrayal. 

everything after this is all of them, everything from “time won’t fly” to the “it was rare, i was there” is all of them, losing each other at the same time and not being a ble to do anything as it happens. 

then those last three lines: “wind in my hair, you were there, you remember it all” is Liliana to Relvin; “down the stairs, you were there, you remember it all” is Relvin to Imogen; and “it was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well” is Imogen (to both of them, but to herself more than anyone else). 

anyway. moving on. 

wouldn’t come back is about the uncomfortable ease with which Imogen understands Liliana’s choices and decisions, when it comes down to it. because she left too, just like Liliana, and then she did it again years later, from people she really did truly love and a life she cherished, and this song is Imogen writing about those choices and those parallels and understanding both the hurt on the side of being left behind and the desperation of needing to leave. 

enchanted is about Laudna. every note, every line, every second, every piece of the story, is all all all Laudna, because I was lying to you about forgetting romance because c’mon. about first meeting Laudna years ago and thinking that she should, by all accounts, be intimidated seeing someone who’s music she’d listened to for years, who’s a household name in a way Imogen has only ever dreamed of being, in a way Liliana was, but Laudna was so shy and flighty back then, so soft and holy shit, she was - is - beautiful, her voice even more … musical than Imogen had heard in the interviews and clips. so that’s enchanted. 

and long live is, of course, about Bell’s Hells. about how they made each other better,  about how they saved each other at points when they were so afraid of what the world had in store for them, about how they made each other the most authentic versions of themselves, and how, as Imogen wrote this album, she was so isolated from all of them by her own making, how all she had was the memories of how that used to be, but that’ll still be worth everything to her. 

so that’s tethered. 

(oh as a little treat: the song Laudna is working on that afternoon while she and Imogen hang out in the apartment is Apple Pie by Lizzy McAlpine xo) 

I’ll wrap it up there so that this doesn’t become as long as the chapter itself, but: hope this gives you some music to listen to and a world to think about in the two week wait before next CR ep! 

give me music recs for this au if you think of any, tell me what you think of the songs I’ve already told you about, and for the sake of ease: here’s a playlist for y’all (will update it every week with new songs as I add them to the plot in the fic). 

love, chim ⚡️

#critical role #critical role fic #imodna #tethered au; music breakdown #tethered au #c3 #cileme writes

[edienotsedgwick]

Hello everyone!

I haven’t posted many music updates here recently because I have just been forgetting to use tumblr as one of my platforms (even though tumblr is probably the one I’ve had the most growth on out of any of them cause of how long I’ve been here). However, although it’s two years too late I wanted to have a talk in depth about my latest E.P because one thing I love about this place is how I can talk in depth about what I’ve made more than I can anywhere else. I did it for the last E.P, now it’s time to talk about this one.

Last week, I got word from one of my friends that my music was no longer on Spotify so they could listen to it and it made me realise I’d forgotten to pay my Distrokid bill. So when I sorted it out and fixed all issues with accessibility I decided to take a trip down memory lane and have a listen for the first time in a while.

Unlike Made With Blingee which was one impulsive idea I came up with in 2018 that I rushed to finish within that year, leaving it a perfect time capsule of my scene days - Thing Is Me is not a snapshot of one year, but a snapshot of evolution from 2019-2022. While I was making it I changed a lot as a person, but also with the help of my collaborators the songs changed too until they settled to where they are now.

The oldest song on this E.P was Lola Bunny, the first inklings of it were born in late 2018 but it came to life in the way you know it in 2019. Lola Bunny was supposed to be just my voice and an acoustic guitar when I first began brainstorming it. It was fresh in my mind after I found out a boy in school who I thought I liked was taken. (It was one year before I learned I was a lesbian). In hindsight I wasn’t really in love with him, I just liked the idea that he could’ve been my only shot at love. My dating pool at school was small, the few people I pursued had found someone else, were straight, or were repulsed by me. I couldn’t go on dating apps or look for people outside of school at clubs or concerts. It was either school or the fandom circles on the internet, and I was sick of E-Dating people from completely different countries. When I found out that boy was taken, it’s a miracle that I didn’t lose hope that I’d ever be loved at all. Instead I thought I’d just never have a high school romance like the movies promised. (spoiler alert: I was wrong). In 2019 when I revisited Lola Bunny I got into shoegaze and realised the song would sound even better as a crushing wall of sound akin to Cocteau Twins, Ride or MBV. Me and my cousin recorded it together in 2020, the rest is history.

The second oldest song is The Hotel Song. In late 2018 I went to a friend’s birthday party and another traumatic incident involving two of my bullies happened. They taunted me and in a fit of pent up rage I confronted them about everything they did to me. They denied it all, called me delusional, and laughed in my face as I broke down on the side of the road outside my friend’s house. I was already traumatised but that sent me to a low point I believed I’d never recover from. The only place I remotely felt safe in afterwards was my bedroom and I coped with the intense depression and anxiety by drawing, eating two minute noodles for every meal of the day, and listening to the same queue of songs on repeat. One night I fell into a deep sleep and had a dream about going to a hotel with my friends and meeting one of the bullies from the incident there by accident. My friends invited her to go to the spa pool with us. Despite my initial hesitation, the time we all had together was pleasant, almost innocent, and I didn’t get hurt again. Later as we dried off, I got an apology from her for everything she did to me. Just as I forgave her I woke up thinking about how everyone has the capability to change for the better at the drop of a hat. As the next year rolled around the dream was still something I thought about a lot, so I decided to make it a song. I was getting into The Moldy Peaches, Neutral Milk Hotel and other weird folky stuff. I felt like the more oddball lyrics due to them coming from a dream suited that sound so I had that in mind as I put it together. I arranged to make it with a wonderful family friend. It was the only song he fully contributed to before I switched to working with my cousin, but he was really important and taught me a lot of great things. I’m very proud of what came out.

The third oldest song is from way into 2019. I was getting better. I had a great network of friends now who gave me the safety net I needed to recover, I’d gone on a long road-trip that made me see beauty in the world, I was getting into new music and other new interests and those new things kept me calm. I still had outbursts of anxiety from time to time though. One of the bullies from the party still scared me to death. I was growing stronger in all other areas of my life, but the looming fear that he could hurt me again was the only thing holding me back from completely recovering. At that time all I wanted was a resolution, ideally an apology but I was just coming to terms with accepting that he wouldn’t ever do that based on how he acted the last time I saw him. I wrote Post Mental about finding that acceptance. Learning to recover in spite of him. In this song I go through all the history we shared, then at the end I let him go. Like The Hotel Song, Post Mental has a lot of the same influences I discussed earlier but with an added flavour of Sufjan Stevens in there. My favourite part of recording this with my cousin was towards the end when we decided to become a two person choir. We did all kinds of things with our voices to make that part special and it was incredibly cathartic for me.

Post Mental Reprise came a few years later in mid 2021. A lot had changed since then, the most shocking thing of them all though was that the bully in question I wrote part 1 about finally did apologise to me! He’d grown up a lot since the incident, realised the friends who made him act the way he did weren’t good people, found better friends, and then apologised to everyone. Including me! We’re not friends now but we are civil. My cousin suggested the E.P should get rounded out with a part 2 to Post Mental, so that’s what we did! I acknowledged the positive change in the lyrics, and we decided to give this ending a 60s pop inspired sound with a Lo-fi twist.

Finally, the E.P’s youngest song is A New Sunshine. This is a breakup song, but probably the sweetest breakup song you’ll ever hear. I’d been in a relationship that was not perfect, but definitely meaningful for about a year and a half. In early 2021 I realised things were coming to an end as the two of us started University. The flaws in our relationship that we could handle in high school were more difficult to deal with as new young adults, so we calmly broke it off and remained friends. They are one of my best friends to this day and they even came to the listening party for this E.P while cracking a few jokes when this song came on about how they knew it was about them. I wrote this song the exact day we broke up. It definitely got a few tweaks as I started making it come to life though. In this song I talk about my excitement in moving on, not just from that relationship, but in my life in general now that I was fresh out of school. Kissing off the last of my teenage blues this E.P was tying up the loose ends of. For this songs influences I blended the shoegaze/dream pop influences from Lola Bunny and the alt-folk of the other songs and came up with something akin to Angel Olsen’s first album or Linger by The Cranberries. This song along with the first part of Post Mental took probably the longest to perfect, but it was a true labour of love that I’m glad finally came together eventually. Especially thanks to me and my cousin’s good friend Carson who gave us the twangy guitar solo towards the song’s end that I had envisioned in my mind but definitely couldn’t play.

I hope you enjoy the deeper insights into each Thing Is Me song and you enjoy the music if you haven’t already listened yet. Keep giving it love, and lemme know what you think :3 thank you ily

#edie TxT #my music #indie music #indie artist #indie musician #nz music #indie pop #indie rock #alternative rock #indie folk #jangle pop #dream pop #shoegaze #folk rock #independent music #independent artist #Spotify

[unsettlingcreature]

5, 7, 9, 13, 25 for the oc ask for Perseus 🫡 💖

5) how far is your oc willing to go yo get what they want?

So Perseus tends to make impulsive decisions that have large consequences. Typically his first reaction is self-sacrifice (like his life or his soul That One Time) but it's always something that only he's giving up. While he would rather find options other than violence, killing or the sacrifice of someone other than himself, that's probably where he draws the line - at least in pursuit of a bigger cause or to help someone else. For his own ambitions, he won't go very far at all partially because he is a very unambitious character overall.

7) what's one way your oc has changed since you first came up with them?

Honestly so much addjdhsksjddd. When I first made him, he was actually pretty bare bones because I was nervous about the (new) group I'd be playing with and wasn't sure how much backstory to give. A lot of the stuff that's now core to his character were things that were discovered through playing him.

If I had to pick one thing, it'd probably be his love life/sex life LMAO. Originally, I had him envisioned as a disaster bisexual and yeah, he definitely was in the end LMAO but I kind of viewed him as the kind of person to just end up stalling when it came to romance or sex. He was definitely awkward when flirted with and he was going to just pine uselessly when he realised Oh No I Have Feelings For An Idiot. And yet? The PPZG threesome happened so easily?? Good for him. Was a ménage-à-trois a sexual awakening for Persy? Yeagh. Good for him.

9) do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your oc?

Lyrics are hard because I have a full playlist of songs that I think are Perseus coded and ordered according to his character arc/the campaign plot. Am I allowed to use a quote from my own writing?? Because I'm gonna. Also it's kind of long 😳

Once, he would have questioned where he fit in and what his value was. The templars would have made him a bishop. Caedis, a pawn. But Perseus knew who he was now, with his family - because that's what the Last Flame were - fighting alongside him. He was a Rook, one of the strongest pieces on the board and he’d stand between them and Unity for as long as he could.

13) if you met your oc, would the two of you get along?

I like to think so! Perseus is definitely one of my least abrasive characters despite his low Charisma and I think we could at least be on friendly terms if not become actual friends.

25) what is your favourite thing about your oc?

I think maybe his growth or just how through him, I've made some wonderful friends and created wonderful things with them. With Perseus, I got to meet all the players in the Last Flame and I think it helped me become good friends with Jojo (who played Aegis, Persy's brother, and is overall a really cool dude) and Rachel (who played Yesriel, aka the third honorary Rook sibling, and is really fun to play with at Empire) in particular. All of the players were awesome for that game tbh! Last Flame i miss u. Reunion tour when.

Not just that, but he really became a creative outlet for me - I drew and wrote so many things that I'm really proud of. I'll always throw Rook, Bishop, Pawn at people wanting to understand more about Perseus as a character because I think it's really well written (to toot my own horn) but having that fic be referenced in-game before the final fight was... it legit brought my to tears, I love my DM/brother so much sometimes.

It didn't even end once the campaign came to a close. Me and Lotus endlessly spawned AUs for that campaign, including the Velseus AU which we both loved so much (and that one day will definitely become more than scattered notes). There was the Modern/High School/Coffee Shop AU that became such a big point of collaboration between everyone and that is now the setting for my current big fic I'm working on!

I just ooouuurrgghhhhhhhhhh I love Perseus so much. He might be my roman empire.

#ch: perseus #ty for the asks beloved wife. i love talking about persy a lot o7

[bastetwastaken]

Thanks for replying back to my message~ I do prefer private massages a bit more to start though I'm not opposed to sharing with people and collaborating things ⭐

Just to give perspective, I'm okay face to face in person with people but online I get a bit (sometimes a lotta bit) nervous, partly cause the delay time between messages can give my head time to tear apart words and color things in shades of worries.

The other issue, I have exactly 0 Puzzleshipping friends and I've not been an active part of a group for a fandom by myself ether which adds pressure, especially with those who's work I admire and really wish I could connect with. Sometimes I feel like I'm outside of group dynamics and get really self conscious but I don't want to cause someone to feel like they -have- to do something.

I used to just hang around a close friend and follow them though whatever they were into but that was years ago and I also went through some life changes. Now I'd like to be part of a community that aligns with my interests and not just stuck in my corner hoping for "some day". I came back to my very first ship here and have been delighted to see how it's evolved~ ❤️💜✨ but I also have still been in that corner, despite trying to comment. It might just me me tho, I've always been by myself in fandoms : /

It's a different kind of feeling to be inside of and participate rather than be impersonally idling and spectating as I have before. You can get sad and disheartened when you repeatedly try and feel like you can't reach ppl and yet see how easily others seem to do it. It can feel like there's something wrong with you even though you know ppl are different and things take time, but that want grows hungry when care catches and latches and can eat you instead.

I just wanted someone to understand the page that I'm on, to know why I might be awkward or missing somethings and need a gentle hand til I grow in those flight feathers, NEEDS EXP PLZ HELP LVL UP 🐦 I want to contribute worthwhile things to whether it's conversing or finally popping out art so I'll keep working attit and I appreciate you being here 🤍����

I hope I can give encouragement to you too~ we all need a little kindness and connection, you can come to me too if you need things🌿 You mentioned experiencing a bout of loneliness, I wouldn't mind listening, I like knowing what's going on and we have our rain and shine 🤍🤍 I'm gonna quietly hit up your inbox unless you want to communicate another way = )

I know people use discord, I've seen it but I've never been invited to use it soooo, idk entirely what to do there, you'd have to baby me on that (and I won't always be this long =P)

But thanks again for taking time with me 🌌

We can talk privately friend, that's not an issue ^.^ Feel free to slide into my dms any time!

I understand how you feel, online can be harder than irl because you don't have visual confirmation that the person is free to talk right that second, tone can be lost through just text and timezones, man, timezones. I'm in the UK, so I'm currently on GMT and at the time of responding it's 10:35am. I get you, I have friends in America who are five hours behind me, friends in Europe an hour ahead and a friend in Australia who's just plain living in the future. So finding time to talk can be hard, but we make it work ^^

I think the most important thing is to just keep those time differences in mind, and once you get to know someone better you'll likely realise patterns in when they're around, when they respond faster and when they might be sleeping. It's all a learning experience ^^

I can introduce you to a puzzleshipping server on discord full of lovely people if you like. It's a big server, I won't lie sometimes I get overwhelmed by how big it is, but you can sit quietly in there and just see what people are saying or you can be more active, there's no obligation either way. I know that sometimes we all just need someone to take us to those places where likeminded people are, and just hold our hand a little. We'll sort it in dms <3

My friend, I understand exactly how you feel and you're very much not alone. You're doing something amazing talking about how you feel because that shit is hard. So fucking hard, but look at you, doing it anyway. I've tried to interact with other people, sometimes those interactions just don't go the way I'd like. I've been ignored, talked over and made to feel like I don't belong and believe me when I say that we're not the only ones. It's easy to let those interactions prevent you from trying again, but you're trying again right now and I hope that this time it'll be different for you.

In regards to your other ask- Loneliness can be felt whether you're surrounded by people or not. You could have 100 friends and still feel lonely. You could get 1000's of likes on a post and still feel lonely. Loneliness is not exclusive to any particular set of circumstances, so you're not being ungrateful, you're being honest in how you feel and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that.

I'll wait for your message <3 <3

[myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19]

At the end of their rope part one

@whumparchives @smellofsnoww @luna-rein

So just a friendly collaboration with @irathgo with a Jason and Keir fic.

Jason rolled his shoulders as he walked through the crowd of people. His eyes flickered around as he searched for the old tech shop. The amount of things he needed from the shop was astounding. He didn’t even realise that he’d broken so many electronics while working.

Maybe he should be a bit more careful, he didn’t want to blow up the new apartment. Not just yet.

That and Frank would kill him if he did. The moment he saw the small shop he grinned, before winching. This was going to hurt his wallet.

********

Keir looked around the isles for any of the stuff that might be on his list. James said he had to help with the groceries instead of just running off and coming back like nothing happened days later and just eat his food without contributing anything.

The man wasn't wrong so Keir didn't argue. He had just started, his trolley only having two items, coffee and meat. James also thought it would be nice having him go to a place that was normal for once. But it was plain that he just wanted Keir to run his errands. He barely eats at James' house anyway. He brushed it off and just kept looking for more items. Whether he likes it or not he still lives rent free in James house.

When Jason finally got the things he was looking for, he almost groaned at the price. That was hurting his wallet. He nodded at the man working there, before walking to the door. A grin formed on his face as he started walking, completely absorbed in his purchase that he barely noticed what was going on around him. Nor that he’d wandered off to one of the least busy parts of the mall.

There was a loud noise in the middle of the room. It was like a siren. The thing continued howling until everyone in the store had their ears covered because of the grating sound. At the center of this noise was a man with a megaphone holding it up in the air. Next to him were some of the employees, all of them tied up and gagged.

"Could I please have your attention? The man announced turning the grating noise off and putting the megaphone to his mouth.

In an instant men with guns appeared and all the exits were blocked. No one was allowed to leave.

Another guy grinned as he looked at all the terrified faces around them.

“We have a little surprise for everyone” he said, his face covered with a mask.

Jason flinched to a stop as he heard the siren. Immediately he shot towards the back, to where he wouldn’t be able to be seen. His eyes flickered to where the noise came from. It looked like a convenient store that was close by.

Everywhere his eyes went, he noticed people in all of the shops. It was clear that all of them were carrying weapons. Their faces covered.

"We have everyone's attention?" The masked man at the center asked as he looked at all the terrified faces. He looked tall, couldn't define any of his features with his not only his mask but also his clothes covering most of him.

"You won't have to worry if you follow a few rules." The man proclaimed. "Firstly you are not the targets, you are only the keys, second as keys we expect you to keep quiet unless spoken to, don't cause any trouble if you do we will not be lenient."

He took one final look around as more people were brought to him at the center.

Keir was suddenly taken away from shopping and told to stop, the gun was an obvious enough sign but did the man have to scream at him as well. He put his hands up a blank expression on his face and was told to move. The guy was now behind him still pointing that gun at his back. Each time he looked back he was yelled at to keep his eyes forward. Moving on he could see other people also being taken to the center of the store. When he reached there he was made to sit at the centre with some other people who were obviously terrified at the sudden appearance. Some of people being children with parents trying to convince them things will be alright.

“Keep moving you fucking brats” one of the men snapped, shoving a girl forward.

Jason stepped forward, his eyes flickering around. He needed to get a safe distance from those people. Slowly he lowered his bag to the ground, making sure not to make a sound. He did not want to get caught. Slowly he reached into his jacket pocket for his phone.

A hand grabbed his wrist.

“Well now… don’t think that you’re a hero” a voice hissed in Jason’s ear.

“I’ll be damned” Jason groaned, feeling annoyed that he allowed himself to get caught “You are not all morons…”

The hand on his wrist twisted, forcing Jason to let go of his phone. Something pressed against the back of his head.

A gun.

“Aren’t you a mouthy guy” the man said “Now start moving”

“I don’t want to” Jason said with a pout.

The man pushed him from behind. “I fucking said, move!” he snapped. The push causing Jason to stumble.

“Hey don’t treat your guests like that” Jason snapped at him, but he moved slowly to where the other hostages were.

“Keep your mouth shut”

“I don’t want to,” Jason said stubbornly as they got closer to the others.

"Ahhh," the man at the center called to everyone to give their attention to the unruly young man. "It seems we might have a difficult person on our hands."

Keir and some others looked in the direction. Keir rolled his eyes. "you've got to be kidding," he muttered.

"Bring him here so everyone can see." The leader ordered.

The guy behind Jason pushed him roughly forward and Jason stumbled again, just to give the illusion that he was a bit clumsy.

“You people are really damn rude” he said “It usually helps when you ask nicely, and not just go waving guns around….”

"We dear people are not bad and we mean no harm as long you behave." The leader announced it to everyone.

"But," he said, turning his body to the unruly young man, "we will have to be disciplinarians when the need arises."

"And I hope we won't have to discipline you young man," the leader said to Jason without his megaphone.

“Now you’ve fucked up, Brat” the man behind Jason said, pushing him forward again.

Again Jason stumbled slightly.

“You people are rude” he said, before lifting his hand, flipping the man off “We have nothing to do with whatever shit you’ve got going on. Most of us just want to get this day over with and go the hell home”

"Which you will," the man said, turning the speaker back on. "But first we must get what we demanded."

"And all that requires is a little of your time and cooperation." He said again in an almost pleading but authoritarian manner.

Keir scoffed, they have an easier time getting an monkey to cooperate. If that hotshot was good at anything it was being unruly. But it worked for him at the moment with everyone's attention on Jason he could wiggle his way out. He just has to hope Jason does what he does best, keep all attention on him.

Jason stepped forward, eyes on the leader. There was a smirk on his face. “You are fucking corwards” he said and spat on the ground “Innocent people…. There’s no need to get them involved. Do you really want children to go through this? You fucking piece of shit”

There we go. Keir thought as he began putting his plan in motion.

The leader looked at the young man with a ticked off look. "We have been too kind to you." He said and then backhanded the young man and then hit the back of his legs with his gun.

Jason grunted as he was forced to his knees. He ran his tongue over his throbbing lip. “You’re still a fucking piece of shit” he said “Cowards that has to take woman and children hostage….”

The man behind Jason, pulled his gun out, pressing it against his head. “Maybe you should keep your mouth shut,” he said.

Jason looked up at the leader. “What are you going to do if I don’t?” he asked sarcastically “Shoot me?”

"That won't be necessary." The leader said, pressing his eyebrows with his fingers. He sighed. "I really tried to be civil."

Keir said a silent thank you to Jason for giving him the chance to get away with one of the men's gun and mask. He was now in one of the isles with a knocked out assailant. He changed his clothes as quickly as he could and rejoined the crowd.

"Why must you force my hand?" The leader said again just as Keir rejoined the group. The attention was still on Jason which was good. Now he had to get close to that moron.

“Evidently the only thing your tiny little brain could think of was to hold a bunch of people hostage before Mommy didn’t give you enough hugs when you were little” Jason said, knowing full well that he was now just looking for trouble.

The man was visibly getting more upset, clenching his teeth and tightening his fists. "You really are just looking for trouble."he growled.

At this point Keir had wiggled his way closer to Jason and the leader. Just a little more and he would be there.

One of the men took it upon himself to punish such an unruly young man. He then kneed the young man in the face.

"Shut your mouth," he demanded.

Stars exploded behind Jason’s eyes and he tasted blood. His vision blurred for a moment. That hurt more than he wanted to admit.

That looked like it hurt, Keir observed. Well that guy obviously won't keep his mouth shut after this so he should get to him quickly. He moved again and was now standing close to Jason.

"Now, now let's not bother ourselves with such mean spirited children." The leader said.

"But sir we can't just let someone like this go so easily," Keir yelled as one of the guards, he disguised his voice a bit. "He might influence the others to be so unruly, he can't be put back in the crowd."

The leader nodded hearing what the unknown imposter was saying. "That is true but we can still use him as an example." The leader said.

"Let me sir," Keir said so eagerly before the others could.

"You're surely a good child but I can't leave all the work to you. You must stay here and help your siblings." The leader said almost like a parent.

Keir cringed but tried to keep it from showing. "No sir , you must stay back and watch over everyone." Keir looked back at Jason with as much contempt as he could master. This idiot. Just hang in there.

Jason lifted his head slightly, blood running freely from his nose. “Firstly….” he said, before spitting out some blood and glancing at the guy that hit him “You punch as hard as a fucking pillow…. Secondly, I’m really sure you have mommy issues now…. And Thirdly…. You people belongs in an institute for crazies…. Cause damn you’re giving me the creeps”

"Look sir, if he continues with this disrespect without discipline he might make the others think you have no power," Keir whispered to the leader. "Just look at the people, despite what you have done he continues to run his mouth."

The leader looked to be thinking Keir's words over. Keir was waiting for him to take the bait. This man had to make sure everything was in order and Keir had to sound eager enough to please him.

"So how do you suggest we do so?" The leader said.

Keir kept his triumphant feeling inside. He took it now; he just had to keep this up.

"Sir, I suggest that you let me be alone with him. Let the people hear him scream and let their imagination run wild with what might be happening." Keir suggested in the man's ear.

The leader nodded along. "I'll trust you, my child."

Keir cringed again. "Thank you sir," he said eagerly.

He walked over to Jason, making a display of his seriousness by hitting the other guy in the butt with his gun. "I'll teach you to run your mouth," he spat.

Jason groaned as his vision went out of focus for a second. He could have sworn he knew that voice and it made him even more irritable.

“Nooo….” he groaned, wrapping his arms over his middle asif to protect himself “I don’t want to… go… anywhere…. With you…. And your…. Freaky…. Family… dynamic…”

"You don't have much of a choice there… hot shot," Keir growled, begging for Jason to take the goddamn hint.

“Then… stop hitting me…” Jason growled softly, barely audible “You…. fucking brat….”

Keir almost smirked underneath the mask. "Shut up," he said, pulling Jason up roughly by his arm. "Move it," he demanded, pressing his gun behind Jason's back.

Jason's one arm relaxed a bit, like he was letting go of something that was beneath his jacket. There were still black spots in his vision and he just spat out more of the blood. For a moment his balance disappeared and he almost toppled over.

Keir grabbed whatever it was Jason dropped in a false attempt to keep him up.

"I'm not playing your fucking games." He growled again, digging his hand in Jason's shoulder. He was trying to hold him up without being too obvious then he just roughly pushed him forward.

Jason stumbled slightly again, before managing to get his balance back. “...fucking asshole…” he grumbled.

"Yeah keep talking, you won't be so bold after I'm done with you." Keir said with bravado as they entered one of the backrooms. He wanted to hit himself.

He closed the door behind them, locking it. He exhaled, taking off the damn mask now that they were alone. "How are you a fucking secret agent?" He asked the guy. His apathetic expression and tone back. It's just who he is now.

Jason glanced up where he just sank down to the ground. “Nice seeing you again as well, Keir” he said, spitting out blood as he tested for the damage the other guy did to his nose.

"Sorry I hit you." Keir said, sitting down with the guy. "Make some noise will you?"

Jason glanced at Keir before nodding slightly. “Might want to plug your ears” he said.

Keir put his hands to his ears, tightening them so all he heard were muffled sounds.

As soon as he saw Keir covering his ears, he screamed. Loudly. It hurt his throat, but he screamed again, before letting the sound die off.

"Yeah that will do it," Keir said, shaking his ear as it rang.

"Now we have to discuss what we'll do." Keir said. Though Jason might have to scream between intervals.

Jason still pinched his nose for the bleeding. “Just give me a second….” he muttered, before leaning forward with his head between his knees, letting the blood just freely drip to the ground.

Keir turned his head. "Take you time," he said quietly. "Do you know who these people are?" He asked after a while.

Glancing at Keir, Jason shook his head a bit. "No….." he muttered "But… we need to… Get the people. Out…"

"That's not going to be easy," Keir said looking at Jason. "There's just too many, we can't get them out without being noticed."

"... Some… not all… just enough… so they don't… have that… much leverage… for what they want…" Jason said, between breaths "even if it's… just me left…."

"I honestly can't stand you sometimes," Keir groaned, "I'm not leaving you behind."

"But alright, first things first we'll get anyone that is vulnerable, the elderly, children etc… we get them out first."

Jason nodded again before slowly lifting his head. He touched his nose gently.

"Bleeding stopped…." He muttered.

Keir turned to him again,"Did you manage to get a hold of your people?" Keir asked again.

Jason blinked at Keir before shaking his head. “No…. My phone broke” he said, before smirking slightly “But…. we are in a mall….”

"What do you have in mind?" Keir asked, noticing his smirk.

“There’s an electronic store…. About two stores down” JAson said “We can get a phone there and I’ll get us some back up…. Then we can always make a bomb or two with some flash granades”

"We can use the bombs to draw them towards different parts of the mall." Keir suggested.

“Exactly” Jason said “Then we get as many people out as we can before they get back”

"Alright sounds easy enough," Keir said, "we just need to find a way to get you to the store."

Jason closed his eyes for a moment. “What room are we in?” he asked, frowning slightly.

Keir looked around, "looks like a back room for breaks." He deduced.

For a moment there was silence, Jason’s one hand tapped rapidly against his leg. “Alright…. There should be another door at the back…. But then we’ll have to go around to get to the store we want” he said.

"If we both go they'll notice somethings up." Keir pointed out, "you go and I'll find a way to get to you."

“I’ll meet you just outside the door….” Jason said, slowly getting to his feet “when you hear the first explosion, give it about two minutes then you can come out”

Keir stood up and put the mask on again. "Alright," he put his hand on the door knob. "don't be stupid out there." He warned.

Jason shrugged, his hand still tapping absentmindedly. “Yeah yea….” He said “Take care, Kid”

With that he disappeared from the room.

Keir took a moment to prepare himself then opened the door with the mask down.

"Just give him a moment," he announced proudly. The leader nodded, feeling proud of his disciple.

Now he had to plan his way out of here.

****

A loud explosion sounded through the mall. There was a slight trembling in the ground. By the sound alone, you’d think that the building might come down on them.

Keir heard the explosion and knew what he had to do. He waited for two minutes like Jason said first.

While in that time, the people had taken to screaming from the sudden fear. Some of them lay down while others would have left if it wasn't for the guns right in their faces.

"Stay down stay down!!" The men demanded.

"Go and see what that was." The leader ordered and quietly Keir joined some of the men that left.

A second explosion went through the building, this time from the opposite side of the first.

"That way," Keir said, leading them in the wrong direction.

The men didn't question it and just went in that direction while Keir slipped the other way to try and meet up with Jason.

Jason quickly talked on the phone he managed to get his hands on, as he waited for Keir. They were going to need help. Because no matter the plan, something was going to go wrong.

Keir moved quickly as he tried to find Jason before someone noticed something was up. He breathed a sigh of relief when he finally found the guy.

"Good work" he said as he got to Jason.

Jason nodded before holding out something to Keir. “A flash grenade” he said “Be careful with it, because I only had time to make one”

Keir nodded, then he paused and looked at Jason a little confused. "You dropped something in the store, what was that?" He asked.

For a moment Jason actually looked a bit embarrassed. “... A fidget spinner…” he said, pulling his hand through his hair.

"............." Keir sighed "Let's just go,"

Jason shrugged slightly. “Let’s go then” he said and started to make his way back to where the hostages were.

"There are still some guards inside but not as many as before," Keir reported. "Can you keep up?"

Jason nodded. “Yeah…. Don’t worry about me” he said “Let’s just get the people out.”

"Ok." Keir said, throwing the mask down. "ready?" He asked, getting a gun he took from one of the guys out and giving it to Jason.

“Thanks,” Jason said as he started forward. They were going to have to do this as fast as they could.

Keir followed after.

There was a guy that was watching after some of the people, he had his gun aimed at them. Keeping all his attention at making the stay in line. Most of them panicked because of the explosions.

Jason paused for a moment before he soundlessly moved towards the man guarding the hostages. His one hand reached back, pulling out what looked like some kind of strange gun.

Keir decided to discard the mask for now. It might come in handy later.

The man kept his attention on yelling and ordering the people to behave. Another one on the other end doing about the same thing. Keir was behind one man cause he saw Jason behind the other one.

"If I see any of you move, I will act on sight!" The man yelled.

Jason quickly stepped towards the man. Without hesitation, he caught the man’s wrist, roughly pulling it to the side away from the hostages. His gun pressed against the back of the man’s neck.

He pulled the trigger without a word.

There was no sound. Just a soft puff. The man’s body jerked before going limp and Jason just let him fall to the ground.

Keir didn't have any fancy guns so he simply tapped the man's shoulder and when he turned he hit the guy with a hard punch knocking him out immediately.

Then he turned to the other people, quickly placing his finger over his mouth to shush them.

"We're getting you out of here." He whispered. "But you have to be quiet, alright?"

The people nodded, some of them thankful others still scared but they understood.

Keir looked up at Jason and nodded.

Jason nodded. “Kids, anyone over sixty and people that are sick” he said “They will be the first group… Then we’ll try to get everyone else out”

Some parents put their kids forward trying their best to make them understand why they should go with strangers. The elderly organized themselves; there weren't many at least.

"If you're a mother with a baby you have to come too," Keir added.

A woman rose up with her young baby. Keir nodded.

Someone with a cane rose up and another brought forward a blind man.

"That good?" Keir asked.

The group nodded. Then he looked up at Jason.

Jason took a deep breath as he holstered the gun. “Right… we’re going to have to take the back way out… It’s a bit of a walk, but if we’re quiet and fast, everything will be fine” he said, his eyes flickered over the remaining people in the group “While we’re gone… divide yourselves into two groups…”

The others listened and nodded. Keir held out his own gun.

"Just in case someone comes back. I'll stay behind." Keir said.

Jason nodded. “Alright… Let’s go…” he said and lead the small group of children, elderly, disabled and sick people away.

The people followed, the children a little scared of leaving their parents. One of them waved at her dad as she left. But they still kept quiet. The elderly let the children go first and helped Keep them in line and calm while others that needed help had their hands held to guide them.

While they moved, Jason did his best to keep the kids calm and quiet. It was easy enough, but this was something scary, especially for children.

There were few quiet sniffles in the back and a few attempts to calm the children down from anyone older. Some of the children were crying but tried their hardest to keep quiet as they moved.

When they found the back exit, Jason picked the lock and peered outside. When it looked like the coast was clear he motioned for them to start going outside.

He glanced at his watch. The last of the three bombs he set should be going off any second now.

The elderly coaxed the kids to run as fast as they could. Most of them went as fast as their little legs could get them, then the woman with her baby holding the blind man. The elderly followed after all the younger ones had left. In the end everyone got out safe.

Jason clenched his jaw as he turned back.

Just as he stepped forward, the last of his three bombs went off. Taking a deep breath, he started jogging back to the others. They needed to hurry, his distractions wouldn’t last much longer.

Keir understood and just dove into it. "move move move," he said and the people quickly got up. They met up with Jason not too long after.

“We need to get out of here now” Jason said “Get these guys out…. I’ll go get the last group”

Keir nodded and they kept going. They ran past Jason to the back room.

The other people were still sitting down waiting to be rescued.

Jason quickly went over to the people. “Alright… we need to move fast” he said “I’m pretty sure they are already on their way back….”

The people didn't need to be told twice and quickly got up following Jason's lead.

Halfway to the back exit, Jason quickly motioned for everyone to hide. Footsteps sounded from the way they were going.

They bent down and hid where there were some boxes.

Jason quickly moved to hide as well. His eyes searched around, making sure that there was no one near him.

The footsteps came closer. It was more than one person and by the sound of it, they were sprinting.

Keir came back from letting the others out after noticing Jason taking time. He saw the others hiding and did like them. He could hear people coming and understood.

He cursed, why are they coming back now? This was the last batch of people. If Jason could get them out they were clear. He was still wearing the uniform the men had. He pulled the mask down and ran out before they got to the people and Jason.

"They took them out this way!!" He yelled to the approaching men leading them away from the people.

Jason clenched his jaw as he watched Keir leaving. That stupid kid…. They were going to kill him. He had to get these people out and then help Keir, get both of them out of here.

He watched as the group left before motioning for the people to follow him and to stay quiet.

They did as told and quickly followed the young man they had accepted as their only savior right now.

**************

Keir kept leading the men until he came to a dead end and had to stop. There were no more tricks to play and they looked pissed. They aimed their guns, he put his hands up. Someone took off the mask and didn't resist. Next thing he knew he was hit with something hard and fell to the floor. It made him see white for a second and when his vision came back it was blurry and he felt dazed. With blood filling his mouth and pain spreading quickly around his head.

They roughly picked him up and took him to the centre. Where it wasn't any better. They threw him down and just started hitting him He couldn't stop the kicks and punches aimed his way. There were too many.

"Where is your accomplice?" The leader asked, holding the bruised and beaten young man by his chin.

"If he's smart….gone." Keir managed to answer.

The leader backhanded him and he fell to the floor. He groaned, everything hurt.

"Hold him down, his friend will be here soon." The leader ordered and some rough hands held Keir. One of the soldiers took it upon himself to hit Keir in the stomach with his gun. He keeled over from the pain and coughed out some blood but couldn't do much with them holding him up.

Just as Jason was sure that all of the hostages were out, he quickly locked the door. He was not going to let Keir deal with this on his own.

Slowly he started moving back to where they held the hostages. He needed to find Keir. As soon as possible. There was no way that he was going to let the kid get into all the trouble alone.

Keir was held down by two men in the middle of the store. His lip was split but you couldn't see that because of the blood dripping from his nose. There was a pain in his leg but there was pain everywhere else too.

At this point he was a giant and just looked like he had been through hell. Two soldiers were still holding him, forcing him to kneel with his hands behind his back.

It did not take Jason long to track down Keir and the terrorists. His eyes flickered to the younger guy and he just froze for a second. He looked terrible.

A cold fury shot through Jason and he reached back for his gun with one hand and a flash grenade with the other. Slowly he moved even closer. As he got close enough, he threw the grenade.

“Sorry kid…” he whispered, before shutting his eyes and looking away.

There were shouts when the grenade went off and everyone in that area covered their eyes. Like everyone else Keir was practically blinded by the light. He shut his and tried to look away. The men holding him let go as they shielded their own eyes. Everyone else had their eyes shut tight.

That idiot, Keir thought. He fell to the ground groaning from the pain. Can this just be fucking over?

"Keep your weapons up," the leader yelled. His men made a futile attempt at holding out their guns. Aiming at thin air.

Jason shot forward. He shot the first two guys, before kicking another in the ribs. Then he twisted, grabbed the barrel of a gun, roughly pulling it to the side, while slamming his elbow into the person holding it’s face. He did not stop moving, going in the direction that he last saw Keir.

Before the effects of the flash bomb wore off, he already took out six of the terrorists.

Keir heard the sound of the men being caught off guard and the shots fired. He couldn't see anything and all he could do was sit still. Well he didn't have enough energy for anything else.

Someone caught his arm and he immediately froze. "I won't let you go so easily," the leader declared as he held the guy's arm roughly. He had a gun to Keir's head waiting.

"If you come any closer, I'll shoot him." The man warned.

Jason froze in his steps as he moved through the smoke the grenade caused. His own gun pointed at the man standing behind Keir.

“Drop your weapon or I’ll shoot you” Jason snapped coldly.

The man cursed, he let go of Keir, the other guy crumbled to the floor. Biting back a scream of pain as he aggravated a few wounds.

But the man threw his gun away and Keir heard that.

"There." The man said annoyed that he was caught so easily.

Jason clenched his jaw, eyes on the man. “Kid… can you get up?” he asked, voice steady.

"Give….me a.. sec," Keir answered with a grunt as he tried to stand, holding himself as he did so. He managed a little but he felt a sharp pain and then fell back on his knees. He tried not to scream. "nope…not happening." He said.

"Shit…" Jason muttered under his breath. Keeping his gun pointed at the leader, he slowly moved toward Keir "What's your damage, Kid?"

"I think….. it's my ankle," Keir said. He's going to hold Jason back like this.

Jason nodded before turning his attention completely to the leader. "Look… I'm going to take my friend and then we're going to leave… I don't fucking care what you do after that" he snapped "Got that?"

The man cursed. "Fuck both of you." He spat, "leave me and my men and we'll let you be."

"It's not our fault you're idiots…" Jason muttered as he started moving towards Keir again.

"Just know we can find you and will kill both of you." The leader warned.

Keir sat up, slowly creeping his eyes open. He could mainly see a hazy mix of shapes and colors. A figure was coming closer to him and he figured it was Jason cause that's what it sounded like. He has to get back at him for that flash grenade.

Jason put his hand on Keir's shoulder. "Kid… I'm going to help you up… alright" he said before glaring at the leader "You people wouldn't be able to find your way out of a paper bag…."

"Alright," Keir said, trying to help himself up as well.

The leader scoffed, "you really think you've won?" He sounded confident.

"What are you talking about?" Keir asked as he managed to get his arm around Jason's shoulder.

The leader just laughed.

Jason clenched his teeth. This couldn’t be good. His head was throbbing from the idiot that kneed him in the face and that made it harder to figure things out quickly.

“Keir…” he whispered “We’re in trouble….”

"You think you can get out?" Keir whispered back.

Jason just shook his head slightly. “I…doubt it…” he said as he took a step back, keeping the gun aimed at the leader “I’m good… but I can’t take out this many…”

More men appeared around them. Each having a gun aimed at the guys. The leader laughed triumphantly.

"You really thought you could get me," the leader taunted, "now you'll understand why you made a terrible mistake."

The men walked closer, one of them aiming their weapon at Jason. "Gun down," he demanded with a smirk.

“Shoot me and I'll shoot your boss” Jason said, voice steady as he slowly kept on moving back, holding Keir up.

“Get out Jason." Keir whispered. "You got to leave me behind."

“No…” Jason growled.

One of the men walked towards the leader. “Sir…. Let us take care of them” he said, eyes gleaming as he looked at Keir and Jason.

The leader nodded happily. "But don't kill them, not before we make them regret everything they've done,"

"Jason my fucking legs broken, get out of here," Keir demanded.

“You two aren’t going anywhere” the man said, turning to the two “I wouldn’t let you… not after you mess up the boss’ plans”

"Fuck," Keir cursed. "guess we're screwed,"

"Yup," a voice said standing behind Jason and Keir aiming his gun at Jason's head. "Put it down." He demanded slowly.

The other man smirked. “Maybe next time you should kill the people….” he said to Jason.

Jason closed his eyes for a moment, before he slowly lowered the gun, loosening his grip on it.

“Now put the safety on… and throw the gun over here” the man said.

Jason felt the anger rising in his chest, but pushed it down, before doing what the man said and throwing the gun towards the man’s feet.

“Are you fucking happy now?” he snapped.

"Very actually." The leader said. "Hold them down, be careful they are both very crafty."

#whumptober #at the end of their rope #whumptober day 23 #day 23 #hostage #hostage situation #beat up #broken leg #forced to kneel #hold them down #whump community #whump #collapse #whumpee #caretaker #jason #Keir #whumptober 2022 #oc #our writing

[delirious-donna]

Donna!! ♥️ if you want to could you tell me how a couple (or however many you feel comfortable with talking about) of your self ships proposed to you? i would love to hear !

Ah Gray! This is so cute, I’ll cry. 😭

I'm gonna put this under a cut cause it got loooong! 😅

Kakashi - the man was a nervous wreck. His poor friends heard nothing other than is completely unfounded worries prior to his proposal. He was convinced I'd say no, thinking himself not worthy and that couldn't be further from the truth.

It happened a little differently from how he planned it in his head. The plan was to take me to dinner, then for a walk under the stars and ending with him dropping to one knee as we gazed at the moon.

In the end, he couldn't wait, didn't think he could sit through a meal with a ring practically burning a hole in his pocket. He stopped me on a little wooded path near where I used to live before I moved in with him, it's the exact spot where he first took my hand a few years back and we became more than friends.

I cried (a lot) and he didn't like that. They were happy tears but Kakashi can be a bit of a worrier. Obviously, I said yes and the rest is history. Oh, and we didn't make the dinner... I got a little too flirty on the way and he ended up carrying me back home to do other things.

Nanami - organisation is one of his strong points and he had planned the whole thing out like a military operation. Not a soul knew what he intended to do, even nosy Gojo hadn't been able to sniff out what was coming.

He took the entire week off work, had to get special permission from the higher ups but he vowed he’d work whatever was required on his return.

I returned from work to find him waiting on me with two suitcases by the door, this was quite alarming but I was over the moon when he told me we were taking a vacation. Man swept me off my damn feet, took care of literally everything and ensured I had a glass of bubbly in my hand at all times.

The actual proposal happened on the beach, it was not long after the sunset and the air was still warm. We were looking at the beach houses near where were staying when he tugged on my wrist to stop me and asked me to marry him on the spot. Kento told me that he wanted us to live here, away from his work and somewhere we could have a happy little family.

I said yes, might have been a bit over enthusiastic as I knocked him to the sand but all ended well. I got a beautiful ring and some lovely memories of intimacy under the stars. Now we are just saving up to move.

Mitsuya - hmm, not one I’m super proud of but very pleased with how it ended. The proposal was not planned, he didn’t have a ring but that meant we could choose one together.

Sooooo, it might have followed an argument. Nothing super serious, but I was finding it hard how much of himself he was pouring into his work. I’d never felt neglected or unwanted in our relationship but for some reason he got really obsessed with this one show he was collaborating on.

It came to a head when he refused dinner for like the third time that week. I snapped, told him he was being selfish and that he couldn’t just waste away because there were people that needed him like his sisters and me.

It was enough for him to finally realise that he couldn’t just live through work and that there were other things more important. He cried, it was really hard to see and I definitely cried to. He asked me to marry him as we sat on the floor of his studio clinging to each other and sobbing. But we’re more than happy now and Takashi has a far better work life balance.

Hanma - oh hell no… we ain’t married or engaged. Maybe one day but Shuji is a hard one to bring around to the idea of family. I still love him but we’ll see what the future brings.

#delirious answers #damn this got long and kinda deep #sorry if this is mostly ramblings #it’s late and my brain is like a weird livewire #self ship headcanons #kakashi hatake #nanami kento #mitsuya takashi #hanma shuji

[ttlmt]

Bee, how are we meant to process this!?!?! I'm so furious on his behalf that he got jerked around by YouTube for so long, it's so disheartening and unfair and yet he's still there. Picking up the shattered pieces and figuring out how to fit them back together again. Just listening to his voice for an hour and a half straight (or well gay) has made something resonate deep within my chest and I didn't realise how much I missed him before I was reminded of all that he is. (Also, hello, I hope you're doing well, love!)

i think you can see me have a rollercoaster of a breakdown over the past like three hours on this blog cxlkjcdhg its so much to process

i missed him SO much just today my friends and i were joking about dan coming back and then BOOM here he is. i loved listening to his voice and his humour and wisdom and he always knows just what to say when i need to hear it. always sends me in a spiral but knows how to pull me out.

(edit: i've decided to put this under a read more because a) it got way longer than expected and b) its not all coherent and well-spoken like i wanted it to be but here it is)

first of all, i love dan's journey to accepting his past and appreciating it for what it is because thats a similar journey that i've been on recently and im glad he never doesn't acknowledge that there was good in it. it was good. it was important. its just not what he needs now. and nuance is something this phandom i find always struggles with, but dan is so good at it. there was good and bad parts to all parts of his career, but he ends on a positive note because he knows we're like him and we worry and thats where he is now and just yeah i love him

dan being so hard on himself about being a creator and whether or not he deserves this and that he firmly believes he's not good enough? i FELT that. like it doesnt matter what other people say, sometimes you just dont believe the good and you just need to operate like that. and it SUCKS. but you still do it in hopes that maybe one day you'll see what they see. also all that esp after knowing all the shit he went through in the past year? im about to throw hands with dans brain

BURNOUT. god as a media student just personally this hit. like its not an industry you can be neurodivergent or mentally ill in. you're expected to be working 24/7 and you're supposed to be happy about it because you're doing what you love. everything is your job, but its what you wanted right? creative control? its so fucked up and dan explained it way better than i have ever heard someone say it. im so glad hes prioritizing getting help to work on stuff like we're a collaborative species we're meant to work together and im so glad it seemed with this video already he has found people he likes working with

i'm gonna fucking fight youtube. like i figured it was bad behind the scenes but i did not in any universe think it was That Bad. i just assumed things got cancelled cause of covid. the way they treated dan is so fucking unprofessional (but also not unheard of in the industry which is more fucked) and i hope they receive backlash for this but also YTO is gone now so theres nothing really to do and i also dont want it to reflect on dan. in addition to that, i can't imagine going through this with a partner who has the same employer and needs to work with them too. like phil had to watch yt do this to dan all while still working with yt cause its his job. they love and care about eachother so much and im glad they had eachother but jfc they shouldn't have had to go through that.

i'm so glad dan is taking control of his narrative and doing stuff for himself now. im soooo excited for tour. im so happy ttlmt (the video) is getting the recognition it deserves. i hope this shuts everyone up who shit on dan over the past 2 years.

also hellooooo i'm doing alright! i just got back to my parent's place for the summer so i'm adjusting to that and starting my summer course so i'm a bit overwhelmed but im overall okay. all this happening right after i say im back with gifs is so funny dlkjfdg

#ask #nina

[rja507]

Week One

For this task we separated everyone into 6 different groups in which we developed previous ideas for a game. I decided to go into a group for a game that Sukrita came up with. This game was a Parkour speedrunning game in which players would compete to finish first. To begin with this was a very basic concept, but with the help of our group we decided to add various things like a punch on a cooldown that would stun anyone hit, and also various power ups like a speed boost that would affect people differently depending on their position in the race. When all the games were pitched, 4 were chosen to be voted on for the game of choice for our AAA game project, after the votes were tallied it was decided that we would be developing the parkour game. The other three games that were in this vote was Tristan’s goblin scavenger game, Elton’s turtle fighting game and Ali’s open world hack and slash game. The next part of our day, the project leads sat down with different people and discussed strengths and weaknesses. My strengths are 3D modelling and environment design, while my weaknesses would be 2D art and character creation.

When going through the different pathways for leads, we started with design as this was the largest of the groups, and while going through there were some things said that helped me to realise that I would not like to go for the position of my pathway lead, when some of these people weren't picked they were told that they would be needed for too much and this would cause for some conflict when creating this game. I feel like I would be in the same scenario if I had decided to go for lead as I am the only one who is confident with 3D modelling in the group of artists that we have.

This week's plan:

Decided on team roles and responsibilities. 

Began looking at collaboration software, Setup Discord for communication within the team. 

Pick Directory position.

Decide on game concepts and begin working on conceptual stages.

Gather login information for Github, Jira, Confluence and Trello to begin setting up required platforms for work.

[studiodb]

From Drab To Fab: How Office Interior Design Boosts Productivity

It's no secret that a modern office environment can boost productivity. But what you may not know is that it's also important for your employees to feel comfortable and inspired in their work spaces.

This is why interior design plays such an important role in creating the right environment for employees to enjoy their jobs.

In this post, we'll discuss how studiodb.co.nz's office interior design impacts different aspects of work life, like productivity and creativity, as well as ways you can create an attractive space that boosts these qualities while still being budget-friendly!

Ergonomic Furniture

Ergonomic furniture is a must for any office space. From ergonomic chairs to desks and tables, you can find something that suits your needs at an affordable price.

One of the most important pieces of office furniture is your chair. You should always opt for one with arms so that you can rest your forearms on them while typing or working on other tasks.

This helps prevent carpal tunnel syndrome, which causes numbness in hands due to repetitive motions like typing on a keyboard all day long!

Another thing to consider when choosing an office chair is its size--you want one that fits your body well so that it doesn't cause back pain after sitting down for long periods of time (which happens more often than we realise).

Your feet should be flat on flooring surface when sitting down properly; if not then adjust accordingly by raising or lowering height adjustment lever located underneath seat pan area until feet are flat against flooring surface during use time period.

Lighting

To ensure that your office space is well-lit, you need to consider the size of the room and whether it's natural or artificial light. The amount of lighting in a room should be consistent throughout the day: if one corner is brighter than another, then employees will feel like they're working in separate areas.

Lighting also affects employee moods; studies have shown that bright colours boost productivity because they stimulate positive emotions (and therefore reduce stress).

Space Planning

When you're designing your office interior, it's important to consider the layout of your space. How much open collaboration do you need? Are there areas where people will be able to hold private meetings? How much quiet work do you want them doing? What kind of storage do they need for their files and supplies?

These considerations are crucial in determining how many desks and chairs should be included in any given room or wing of your office building.

You'll also want to make sure that each employee has enough room on their desk surface so they can spread out their papers without knocking over anyone else's stuff (or tripping over other people).

Personalisation

Personalisation is a key component of office interior design. Research found that people were more productive when their surroundings made them feel comfortable, which is why adding pictures and plants are some of the simplest ways to boost productivity.

But there's more than just hanging up a picture on your wall: you can also add more complex personalisation elements, such as boardroom tables or even entire rooms dedicated to specific functions (like an IT room).

These will help make your employees feel at home in your office space so they can be as productive as possible!

Conclusion

We hope that you enjoyed reading about how office interior design can help boost productivity. As we mentioned at the start of this article, it's a topic that we are passionate about and have been studying for many years now.

We know firsthand how much difference small changes can make when it comes to improving employee engagement, which in turn leads to better overall performance within organisations.

If you want more information on how our services can help your business grow then please contact experts today!

#office interior design #workplace strategy #hybrid workplaces

[hardynwa]

Embracing Equity Through Positive Alliance By Isoken Nwabunka

On the occasion of the 2023 International Women’s Day (IWD) with the theme, “Embracing Equity’, it is pertinent to discuss a subject close to me, ‘encouraging the girl child to succeed’. The #EmbraceEquity campaign topic for IWD 2023 aims to start a discussion on why just providing equal opportunities are not enough. Every individual has a unique take-off point in life. This is why we must do everything toward achieving meaningful inclusion, fair treatment, appropriate advice and guidance. More so, there's need to provide mentorship and collaboration in line with the assertion by Serena Williams that " every woman's success should be an inspiration to another ". This will offer the pathway to success for the girl child. The promoters of IWD have taken the pains to separate the meaning of equality and equity even though the two words are used interchangeably otherwise. Giving every person or group the same resources or opportunities is referred to as equality.But in recognising that every person has unique circumstances, equity distributes the precise resources and opportunities required to get equal results. May I add here that equity means giving someone the right encouragement to excel; being an ally to that person. Let us not put women in stereotypes. Indeed, we need to denounce all forms of prejudice against women and calling out any form of discrimination. But such a change in mindset cannot just be achieved alone. Women don't have to be the only ones pushing for gender equality. The social, economic, cultural, and political success of women depends greatly on allies. As I have written in my book, Isoken, I have told the story of how I have been able to achieve so much in life with the right opportunities that presented themselves to me and a passionate willpower to make it in life. But I must add that there were certain people who played their part in seeing that I made it. Without the push they gave me, I would have achieved little. First among them is my mother, Enegbegbana Stella Igbinigie. Of course, everyone in Africa gets a push from their mothers. But my case was peculiar. My father died when I was just nine. My mother was then forced to scrounge through her petty trading to make sure we could have something to eat. But she did not hold a pity party; she got me to realise the burden of responsibility that I needed to bear for myself. During the holidays, she ensured I had something to do. “You cannot sit at home,” she would say. “in this life, it is what you fend for yourself that is valuable, not what people give to you.” Another thing she often told me was, “You don’t have to be at the receiving end, you should be the giver, and for you to be the giver, you have to work hard.” My mother saw what was ahead because she would, before long, have sight impairment which would cause her to slow down considerably in her trade. This forced me to go beyond just hawking petty wares in Benin but to move to seek my fortune in Lagos. And when I could not find a job quickly, I did just what I did in Benin – I hawked Elephant Blue Detergent at Mile 2. But my encouragement today is not that young girls should go into street hawking, as even that is now against the law, but that young girls should be encouraged to apply the best of their abilities. The second influence I would mention is my husband. When I met Godwin, all I had was a school certificate. I was already making it as a businesswoman. But he said that was not enough. I needed to go back to school. He admired my can-do spirit but to him it was not enough. I yielded to his superior counsel, and I went back to school. It was not easy because I was already a mother in my 30s. The way I would have coped with studies in my teenage years would have been a whole lot different from me as a struggling businesswoman and mother at an older age. Most times, I thought of quitting, but his encouragement kept me on. Mr. Nwabunka’s encouragement was not just concerning my personal education. He would influence my foray into social entrepreneurship, and to effect, incubating microbusinesses through the Grooming Centre, which today has been able to empower over 700, 000 women nationwide through microfinance.I have taken the pains to tell a bit of my story to buttress the strength of allies. Success is not just achieved by just one’s own strength. One must be encouraged by a solid network of supporting allies. Such a network includes parents, siblings, teachers, mentors, friends, collaborators, and fellow travellers. When such encouragement comes it gingers the weary spirit to keep going. In recent times, I have seen many young ladies in despair, giving up their dreams so early in life. At such an age, I could have done the same but I was shown the right path because I had good allies who did not encourage to take the easy way out but to work hard and excel. To the young lady, I want to be your ally. Let me help you succeed. I have no magical skills, but I can be your friend. It worked for me; it can also work for you. Reach out to me. Let us work together and let’s see you grow. It is often stated that " experience is the best teacher"; hence, I offer to provide mentorship and a platform for collaboration for young girls or girl chiald through the Isoken Nwabunka Foundation.Happy International Women’s Day. Isoken Nwabunka is the author of the book, Isoken and founder, Isoken Nwabunka Foundation. She is an administrator and social entrepreneur. She lives in Lagos. Read the full article

[themattfogblog]

Behold...

The Matt/Fog Bang gave us twenty-two fic+art collaborations!

Here is the main tag on Tumblr: #themattfogbang and the AO3 collection ! Works are tagged as needed on Tumblr and AO3

Banner by @hehearse ! [ID: Foggy in civilian clothes & Matt in his DD red suit, cowl down.  They are sitting on a New York roof, smiling and drinking coffee, with a  background of an orange-toned sunset sky & satellite dishes and utility poles.]

And under the cut, the list of works and the links :D

Share and reblog!

Especially since Tumblr may not like all the non-Tumblr, AO3 links ;-)

The Last Goodbye by @stripedscribe, art by @amazing-spiderling Summary: Matt Murdock always assumed he'd go down in a blaze of glory. At the end of a blade, in a hail of gunfire, or perhaps even at the hands of Spider-Woman herself. What New York's kingpin never imagined was that he might one day lose his life to something as soft and silent as the poison of a flower. Or as impossible as falling in love.

Cottontails and Lawyers by @wolfnprey, art by @catholicism-and-comics Summary: it starts with Foggy taking Matt to a petting zoo and ends with their apartment full of hopping bunnies.

Your Heart Is Where Treasure Resides by @stripedscribe, art by @missmoochy Summary: Tonight as usual, the clouds hung low and heavy around the streets, the spire of the church hidden from view. He didn’t look anymore, the habit of a child of looking for the dragon had long since faded out of excitement. It had almost always been too cloudy, but on the days it wasn’t, he’d always seen the dragon, perched in its same position. A well trained pair of kids' binoculars could pick out the details, eyes closed in a slumber, and the tip of a horn damaged by the elements. No longer a child, Foggy found himself walking the streets late at night, with his dog. A sudden scare, and she was spooked, running blindly into an open doorway He wasn’t expecting to find her caught between the claws of a dragon. A low breath escaped from his mouth, as the heavy head of the creature swung to look at him. Eyes that didn’t seem to meet his own, but at the same time looked right through him, instantly seeming to weigh his soul.

It's a Wonderful Life by @pixelbypixelfanfic, art by @rrr-nightingale Summary: Matthew Murdock wakes up in a hospital. He's told that he collapsed in court, that he had a seizure. Worse, he's told that Foggy was killed a week earlier, and Matt can't remember any of this happening. Things get weirder from there. (But they end up happy, promise!)

Praying For The Devil by @missmoochy, art by @neonbrutalism Summary: Foggy Nelson would never reckon that he inspires strong feelings in anybody. He blunders through life and has a good time but always seems to miss the excitement. But Foggy doesn't realise that he's getting noticed. Dark forces have sinister designs on him, and if he wants to survive, he'd better start praying.

Epistaxis Anime by @inkforhumanhands, art by @amazing-spiderling Summary: Matt has been managing his epistaxis anime—a rare disease that causes its sufferer intense nosebleeds when they experience sexual attraction—just fine until meeting his law school roommate, Foggy, unleashes something within him. Matt struggles to keep his growing feelings and their bloody aftermath in check, all while hiding the true nature of his disease from Foggy. But as the lies and jealousy start to mount, Matt learns there are some status quos that aren’t worth preserving.

We Love Like Fools by @wolfnprey, art by @rrr-nightingale Summary: “What’s the point in acting like you don’t know I’m here when we both know that you could hear me coming?” Matt’s smile widened as he sat back in his chair and looked where he knew Foggy was standing. “The cover of normalcy?” He offered in explanation, earning a disbelieving scoff from his closest friend. “There is nothing normal about you, Matt,” Foggy replied, sounding strangely fond. It wasn’t abnormal, There were many things that Foggy would say to Matt that sounded that way with no understandable reason. aka, Matt takes a hard look at what it means to be in love with his best friend, with the help of some smart women in his life.

The Balancing Act by @booksandcoffeeandink, art by @onemagpie Summary: Nelson & Murdock is back and better than ever, Daredevil isn't dealing with crime lords or evil organizations, and things are feeling settled. Surely it doesn't matter that they desperately need a new office, Matt's bored (even with all of the new clients) and guilty about it, and Foggy's still adjusting to all of the truth that is his best friend. They just have to try harder. Right?

Words Unspoken, Still Heard by @amazing-spiderling, art by @artbymintcookies Summary: After being reminded of the myriad reasons his past relationships have never worked out, Matt starts second guessing whether he's doing enough to make his impact on Foggy's life a positive one. Unfortunately, his concerted efforts to be a more attentive partner go awry when he can't stop himself from playing the part of a hero, and ending up in a little trouble himself.

Other People's Blood by @pomegranate-belle, art by @neonbrutalism Summary: Foggy finds himself reminiscing on the ten years he's known Matt Murdock - son of and assassin for the Kingpin. The things they've learned about each other and the violence they've wrought together. Something sharp, and twisted, and beautiful. A love story written in other people's blood.

a slightly kinder college AU by @confusedandhopeful, art by @onemagpie Summary: Matt picks himself back up after the mess with Elektra, with a little help from his friends.

Relationship Counselling: Matthew Murdock and Franklin Nelson. Session Summary by @artbymintcookies, art by @daredevileffigydesignsketch Summary: Matt and Foggy have some guided structured time to talk about their relationship.

Daredevil is Into Me (Sexually) by @certaintendencies, art by @foggy-with-a-matt Summary: He really can’t tell the detective the true reason behind their late night rendezvous. Which is why, after a second’s hesitation and a deep, irrational moment of the fuck-its, Foggy shrugs and says, “Because Daredevil is into me.” And then, when the detective blinks rapidly and fails to respond, Foggy specifies, “Sexually.”

Kindness Is My Sword by Iithril, art by @pomegranate-belle Summary: "Do you remember when you two first met?" Karen asked, in a vain but still appreciated attempt at distracting him. "Right," Foggy started, clearing his throat, fearing he had dived in too deep, "let me relate to you the tale of a young scribe who happened to forget his inks in the library, and of the young page he encountered on his route to retrieve them that fateful night." Foggy has to save Matt from something he didn't do, and realises things along the way.

Way With Words by @matt-murdok, art by @onemagpie Summary: The first time Foggy seriously brought up "The Man in the Mask," it was over takeout and too much paperwork. He'd kind of mentioned the whole thing earlier with Karen, called him a nut, and moved on as quickly as Matt had. "Who do you think he is?" Foggy said casually over dinner later, completely oblivious to the outfit lying in a grimy heap barely even hidden in Matt's closet. "Who do I think who is?" "You know, the masked man. Our brand new off-brand Avenger. The dude running around like he thinks pirate chic should come back in style."

Be Mine by @happybeans, art by @foggy-with-a-matt Summary: Working at a pet shop in small town Colorado, Matt likes to imagine he’s happy with his uneventful life. But when Wilson Fisk moves back to town with plans to reinstate its old mining days, Matt and newfound friends/romantic partners Foggy and Karen realize they need to take a stand, finding out the truth about the past in order to save the future.

DareBear: The Plush Without Fear by @pomegranate-belle, art by @stripedscribe     Summary: “He’s a DareBear,” Foggy explained, handing the plush over to Karen. She laughed. “Not BearDevil?” “Nah. It’s a whole— thing.” The air shifted as Foggy made a vague hand gesture. “The group that makes them gives them to kids; to comfort them, to hold while they testify, that kind of thing. So they feel safe. Makes more sense to keep the dare than the devil, in this case.” --- Post-Season 3, Matt and Foggy grow closer again and share the last of their secrets - with a little help from a Daredevil-themed teddy bear.

Revenant Eternal by @bleedxblack-art, art by @foggy-with-a-matt Summary: After living longer than any others in human history, very little phased Foggy Nelson or Matt Murdock. Kingdoms rose and fell, men and women lived and died— for centuries, the only constant in the two lovers’ lives was the presence of the other. The tricky thing about their existence, though, was how positively uncertain their very lives had proven to be. If no one had any idea what prolonged their lives in the first place, it followed that they also had no idea what would end it. When old mistakes, fresh wounds, and new enemies change everything, the pair must adapt and navigate the world in spite of their fears.

life gets stranger every time we meet by @griefpersevering, art by Iithril Summary: The first time Foggy meets Matthew Murdock, it's because of a lost parcel. The second time, they share leftover chinese. The third time? Foggy's apartment building burns down, and his week only gets worse from there.

Testing by @metaderivative, art by @onemagpie Summary: Now that she knows he's Daredevil, Karen Page schemes to test the extent of Matt Murdock's super-powered senses. ...At least, that's what she tells Foggy when she enlists his help in the friendly pranks. Really, she's masterminding a scheme to finally get Matt and Foggy to talk about the most powerful of all feelings: true love!

But There is Only Terror by @ijustreallylovedaredevil, art by @bleedxblack-art Summary: Things are great. Matt and Foggy are married and very much in love, and about to go on their honeymoon. Then it’s March 2020, and no one is going anywhere.

i never could forgive myself for leaving out (you're the one, you are the only one) by @loving-jack-kelly, art by @rrr-nightingale Summary: It didn’t take too long to fall in love with Foggy. In fact, it took all of two months. The thing was just that Foggy was the best thing to ever happen to Matt. He was kindness and warmth and laughter, and even if living with him took (a lot of) adjusting, two months in Matt caught himself wondering what it would be like to kiss Foggy. But Foggy wasn’t his, he wasn’t dating Foggy, he had absolutely no right to feel like this just because Foggy had found somebody to date.

#Daredevil #foggy nelson #marvel #mattfoggy #daredeviledit #daredevil comics #Matt Murdock #daredevil tv #matt/foggy #mattxfoggy #themattfogbang #masterpost

[oro-e-diamanti]

Quiet Music: Diminuendo (Chapter Nine)

In collaboration with @bethanysnow

One step forward and two steps back. Oblivion and doubt pair beautifully with a night out. An orange velvet dress. Jealousy and if it meant the same thing ends up in nights alone.

Content | Fluff, bit of angst

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 3367

***

Damiano had decided that waking up in Y/n’s arms was the best feeling in the world. He would have stayed there forever too - enjoying her warmth, her arms wrapped around him, legs entangled, studying her adorable sleeping face. If only it hadn’t been for her alarm roughly waking her up and causing them to start the day ahead. Alas, work called. In a whirlwind, bags were packed, everyone was stumbling into the bus, and they were on the road before they knew it. Leeds wasn’t much of a distance, and they all seemed to be rather thankful for it - spending so much time in cramped quarters was getting old, fast.

Yesterday was a lot, a lot of things to process, a lot of things to think about. Y/n was involved with all of it to some extent, if he thought about it now. Damiano had made up his mind that he was going to try to make Y/n's days easier. Actually start acting like he was her boyfriend. He could see she was wearing herself down. It wasn’t going to happen under his watch.

Plus, the more time he managed to free up for her, the more she’d be able to spend with him. Alone.

The first item on his agenda for the day was breakfast - well, brunch really, at this point. As sick as they were all getting of the tour bus, he was immensely thankful for the little kitchenette and fully-stocked cupboards, courtesy of Y/n. A quick search confirmed he had all he would need - eggs, cheese, some random vegetables thrown in, perfect. Quickly ushering Y/n away as she lurked around the corner into the main area, a look on her face that was somewhere between strict and confused, he closed the door to the little hang out spot at the end of the bus and went to work. The surprise was part of the deal, after all.

***

Y/n was in the middle of her transcription work for university when the sliding door opened. She wouldn’t have paid it any attention either, trying to stay focused on the task at hand, if it hadn’t been for the insanely delicious smell suddenly filling the room. Looking up, Damiano stood in front of her, plate in hand, and the proudest smile on his face.

“Do I need to be concerned?” She asked, slight crease in her brows as she studied him.

“About my cooking? Hopefully not!” With a gesture much greater than necessary, he laid out the plate next to her laptop, holding out a fork. “A frittata for the lady!”

“Thanks, you’re an absolute babe. Mind putting the fork next to it for now? I’ll have some while I work.”

“Nuh-uh!” He tutted, quickly grabbing onto the laptop and closing it. “Very unhealthy behaviour. No working while you eat.”

“What’s this, doctor’s orders?” She laughed, somewhere between amused and maybe a little annoyed.

“Damiano’s orders! Now dig in and enjoy.”

Y/n watched as Damiano sauntered away, still holding her laptop in his hands. She shook her head to herself, admitting defeat as she took the fork and the plate. She wasn’t quite sure what had gotten into the singer, but so far, she wasn’t complaining. Not with a dish this delicious.

***

“What are you so excited about?”

Victoria had thrown herself onto the little seat next to Y/n, who, after brunch, had moved back to her usual spot in the middle of the bus. There was barely enough space for two people on the bench, but neither of them seemed to terribly mind. Tour did that to you, Damiano realised.

“Just press.”

“That’s a new one,” Ethan threw in, contemplative look on his face. “You usually cannot wait for us to be done.”

“Well, that’s because we don’t usually do press at Leeds castle,” Y/n explained with the brightest smile. Damiano couldn’t help but mirror her expression. He wasn’t generally too keen on more interviews, more photoshoots, more new people with varying degrees of professionalism, but her enthusiasm was hard to ignore.

A brief look outside the window presented Damiano with a sign telling him Leeds was but a few miles away at this point. He was glad for the relatively short bus ride. And for the way Y/n was now launching into a whole spiel about the castle, castles in general, and everything concerned with medieval times. From something about Catherine of Aragon to the renovated stables now housing an ice cream shop. He would never stop being impressed by her. Her knowledge. Her sense of beauty for so many things in the world. The way she loved to share all of it with the people around her. He was so distracted by her, he only realised they had stopped and people started leaving the tour bus, when Thomas gave him a harsh slap on the shoulder on his way out.

“Come on, loverboy, time to work. Maybe you can make her your queen afterwards.”

The castle wasn’t anywhere in sight when the bus stopped. Instead, they were greeted by lush hills, trees with low branches and flowers all around. The group was swiftly escorted to a bright red tram taking them to where they needed to go. Y/n had stopped her monologue a while ago, now purely focused on capturing her surroundings with her phone. Her wide-eyed fascination and adoration for the location was starting to rub off. For once, jokes and teasing were kept to a minimum, as all of them commented on the beautiful landscape in awe.

Soon the place around them started to change; first, a river and soon, an entire lake came into view. The sandstone building stood tall in the middle of the water, as swans chased the tram going into the open roundabout. A man who stood at the front of the main doors, dressed business casual, introduced himself as the castle's lead conservator and that he would be giving them the tour - or rather, lead them to their shooting location.

Walking in, the group was smacked in the face with history. Large beige columns and portraits of past rulers followed them into the main hall. The windows were framed by red curtains, pulled back to let in the light. The biggest intrusion in the room was the fact that it had been turned into a photoshoot. Large fabric covered lights and fixtures, and racks of outfit choices were being moved into place. A man at the far end was standing on a box giving orders to the crew. Seeing the band walk in he grinned, going over to their manager to start the process. The band knew what to do at this point, routine setting in as they followed the MUA who was currently waving them over.

Y/n fell back into her own routine, searching out a place to sit and work. Yet, as the three other band members obediently did their part, Damiano stole himself away, just for a second, he told himself, to check up on her.

“What are you working on?” Damiano asked, leaning over her shoulder to look at the laptop in her hands.

“Oh nothing important, can I get you anything? Need a snack, some water? I got a memo of where they are keeping stuff, so I can run if you need me to.”

Y/n didn’t even look away from what she was doing as she replied. Damiano raised a brow and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, burying his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent. Just a little bit of comfort, a small feeling of home, before he had to go back to his job.

“I could help you, you know? Like, do you need anything, amore mio?”. He felt a chuckle run through her body. Yet, she still didn’t move. No proper reaction to the bodily contact, no affirmation or even acknowledgement from her side.

“No, Dami, I get you things, remember? That’s literally what they hired me for.” She briefly patted his arm, but it didn’t seem affectionate in the way he was craving.. “Come on, go get your face done so you can be a pretty boy for the camera. You’re going to get both of us in trouble with the make-up artists otherwise.”

He didn’t miss the way she shrugged him off. He had to fight the urge to roll his eyes as he walked over to the make-up artist, but the last thing he wanted was the others noticing his mood, or worse even, the rejection he felt. It was probably silly, but it hurt nonetheless. He wasn’t used to it. For the past four years, and probably even before that, people had all but fought to get the chance to go out with him. Most of them were dying to make it official, enjoying the arm candy that was the singer of a rock band. Normally, it was his call to take it slow, keep things private.

He was well aware that there was a lot at stake. There would be discussions on social media, paparazzi photos taken, articles written about them. But for once, he wanted it all. He didn’t care about anyone else’s opinion. He just wanted her all to himself and he was willing to let the rest of the world know.

Through the mirror, Damiano studied her. She was deep in thought, obviously concentrating on whatever she was doing, and all he could think about was kissing the little creases on her face, the wrinkles on her forehead from staring so hard down her laptop screen. What if she didn’t want the same? They had agreed on taking it slow. But they had barely agreed on what they were. Was this exclusive? Could he call himself her boyfriend? Say he was taken?

Y/n’s face seemed to light up as her phone rang. Damiano couldn’t help but notice it was her private one, not the work phone she usually used. Family maybe? Her best friend again? She answered immediately, the smile he was wishing he could have put on her face so wide it looked like her face was going to explode from happiness. She easily jumped up, laptop discarded on the chair, and with a giggle, she jogged off, quickly leaving the set, phone already against her ear. The uneasy feeling in his stomach wouldn’t settle.

***

“Danni, my love, it’s so good to hear from you!” Y/n beamed down the phone as she hid herself away in a quiet corner. Taking a private phone call on set was one thing, disturbing everyone with a conversation quiet another.

“Well how could I not after getting a message that my very favourite dance partner happens to be in the same city as me!”

She couldn’t hold the giggle in. This felt comfortable, a wave of nostalgia washing over her, and she found herself falling right back into the way they had always worked. It didn’t matter they barely talked anymore, both of them too busy with their own lives - her with university and work, him still coming out on top at all dance competitions - their bond was strong as ever.

“The good news is I’m indeed in Leeds. The bad one is it’s only for one night because we’re heading to Scotland tomorrow.”

“More than enough time to take you out dancing tonight! When are you free?”

“I should probably supervise the gig before I go,” Y/n admitted. She would love a night off, but the workaholic in her was not something she could easily turn off. She was well aware that she would not be able to relax until she had made sure the band was safely on stage, in their outfits and make-up, everything set up perfectly. “But I could set you up with guestlist if you want to have a look at the band before we go?”

“Free gig tickets and seeing you? Sign me right up!”

“I’ll make sure your name is on the list,” she giggled. “See you tonight, my love!”

When Y/n walked back on set, her mood had improved considerably. As much as she had grown to love the band, nothing would beat reconnecting with someone who knew you inside out in all your ups and downs the way Danni did.

***

Once back at the hotel.

Damiano couldn’t stop staring. When he had suggested she should knick some dark lipstick from Victoria, the kind that would make her lips look absolutely irresistible, he had sort of hoped it would be for his own benefit. Still, he could get used to this view. But then she had paired it with a shiny, velvety orange dress that exposed her legs. Wearing the boots from Amsterdam she stood straighter, taller. Before leaving informed them all that she would be leaving after the first couple of songs to go dancing, and Damiano felt like a puppy that had been dropped off at the pound.

The way she sashayed around the backstage area shouldn’t have bothered him so much, but her dress seemed to accentuate her every movement. He wanted to grab her, spin her around, feel her body against his, kiss her stupid, but none of this was for him. She was going out with Danni, lovely Danni, gorgeous Danni and he couldn’t stop thinking about the way they had danced together, the chemistry between them that had been so obvious even through the screen of her laptop.

“I can do two songs.”

Damiano looked up from whatever spot he had been fixating on when he heard her voice. She was in a friendly spat with Thomas, who was apparently trying to get her to stay longer than intended.

“You’ve got to stay until Coraline at least! It’s your favourite,” Thomas almost whined from his spot on the couch, fiddling with the hem of her dress as he looked up at her with puppy dog eyes. There wasn’t anything inherently flirty about the scene, but Damiano’s head once again went into overdrive. He was dying to touch her that way, tease her, play with her. Instead he was sitting in the corner with a scowl on his face.

“That’s like six songs in, Thomas!”

“So you don’t want to show your friend your favourite song?”

Something flickered across her face, just for a second. Damiano couldn’t help remembering the way she had talked about the song before, the way it was so close to her heart. The way it reminded her of times past and how she had gotten over it. Maybe it wasn’t something to relive, not with him, not with Danni. Maybe that was something just between the five of them. He hoped so. He wanted that little piece of her that was just them, just the band and her, not outsiders. He knew it was a stupid think to thing.

“Stop nagging me and get ready to go on stage. All of you!” She raised her voice now, looking across the room. “Your five minute call is going to come any second now, get ready!”

Everyone was quick to disperse, grabbing instruments and drum sticks as they made their way to the stage. Damiano wasn’t sure why he lingered, until Y/n’s eyes fell upon him for what felt like the first time that night. Now alone, she walked over to him, a smile on her face. She softly grabbed his face, pulling him towards her, leaving the softest kiss on his lips, obviously careful not to transfer any of her lipstick. Waiting a moment there just holding his face.

“Go out and kill ‘em, pretty boy.”

He did his best.

He did his best throughout Zitti e Buoni, throughout the nagging feeling of missing her presence backstage as she instead stood in the crowd with her friend. Watching the way she hugged him. He didn’t want to be jealous, he didn’t want to be that guy. But there was something in the way they interacted, a familiarity that he hadn’t achieved with her yet, and it sent his thoughts spiraling. He wondered if he would ever get to that level with her. If she would ever trust him, look at him the way she did at Danni. If he would ever get her the way the other man seemed to.

They left before Coraline and Damiano proceeded to play the angriest show he ever did. Lividi sui gomiti fully took everything out of him that he had, but he didn’t allow himself to collapse until they reached the hotel. The others were congratulating him, and themselves on a good show, one of the best maybe, but he knew Victoria could see right through him. The way she looked at him was enough.

For a moment, standing in the hallway, Damiano found himself staring at the door to Y/n’s room. He knew she wasn’t going to be there, but he longed to be inside nonetheless. Surrounded by everything that made her her, the way her scent immediately seemed to cling to every place she went, the way she organised her things, the way it was simply so uniquely Y/n. But she wasn’t there and he didn’t have a key and he had no idea when she’d be back, so his room would have to do.

Yet, lying in bed after a shower and the bare minimum of his nighttime routine, he found himself listening for any sound coming from the room next to him. Waiting for her to return. Waiting to know if he’d accompany her, spending the night laughing and talking and catching up. Waiting for her to fall into bed, her face in that perfectly relaxed state only he got to see when he woke up next to her. But sleep took him before a single noise reached his ears.

***

The boots might have been a bad idea, Y/n realised as she stumbled down the hallway of the hotel, but it wasn't like it mattered now. She wasn't quite sure what time it was, only that midnight had definitely passed. She had said goodbye to Danni at the last bar he had dragged her to, promising to meet up again soon and meet his boyfriend, promising to let less time pass until they would go dancing again.

Fumbling with the keycard, she let herself into the room, happy to remember that she had taken care of most of the packing already. But the room seemed empty, especially after spending the previous night in Damiano's arms. Once again, she checked her phone, seeing the message she had sent to him hours ago, asking if he'd gotten back to the hotel alright. But nothing else, nothing but two blue checkmarks telling her he'd definitely read it.

With a heavy sigh, she let herself fall onto her bed. She was aware that she still needed to change, take off her make-up, brush her teeth, but right now she simply needed to lie back and try not to worry. It didn't work. Some quick typing later, she had composed a message to Victoria.

"How was the gig? Get back alright?"

It only took a minute for her phone to light up with an answer.

"Don't pretend like you actually want to know about anything but how Dami is doing LOL."

Y/n let out a dry chuckle. Of course Victoria, out of all of them, would see right through her.

"Well, he isn't answering my text and it's my job to know if everyone is alright," she texted back.

"Suuuuuure. Anyway. He's not been in the best mood. Think he was a little jealous of the way you dressed up for your friend."

Staring at the ceiling, Y/n tried to relive the evening before she left. Damiano's little glances, but the lack of happiness in his eyes. How he seemed to be aware of her at all times, yet keeping his distance. Even the kiss goodbye was grey and bland in her memory. Fuck. Quickly grabbing her phone again, she sent another text to Vic.

"Want to help with an idea I have?"

***

Taglist | @damianodavide @lizstans @unitersmoonshine @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you @vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @juststalking @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @everythingisdefinitelynotfine @nientedaridere @rainbowmarta @ilwiwbysmv @tiaamberxx @shaunthesheesh @enjcltaire @rocketqueen @aleksanderwh0r3 @damianodavidhands @megann-duff @teatrodellavita @coven-daddy​ @till-you-scream-and-cry​ @solasullabarca​ @fanfictionandfluff​ @makapaka11​ @slave4yourlove​ @geklutst-ei​ @marriedwithmarktuan​ @bookish0918​ @mehrmonga​ @kanevill​ @butterfly-skinnylegend​ @lidiyabest​ @killerqueen1985​ @ccweasley​ @bluscryn​ @deluxeplanteater​ @ohtorchio​ @messyhairday-me​ @bidet-and-legolas​ @maybanksslut​ @katyldamusic​ @fuckim-so-gay​ @demoiselle-en-detresse00​ @petit-poussin​ @fedorable-killjoys​ @luvbadass​ @buttercup-beeee​ @navs-bhat @etaerealboyv  @tryymebitch​ @mell-bell​ @fenhakwe​ @solacestyles​ @softforlukescurls​ @vicsangel​ @theimpossiblehologramtree​ @alina-exe​ @cherricola66​  @supercorp-mari​ @onlykissystyless​ @thatonebraziliangirl​ @dannasixxworld​ @immrbrightside​ @lifeofa-fangirl​ @gr8rainbowpunk​ @que--sera--sera​ @achilleveleno​ @maneskinyakaar​ @maneskinsimpie33​ @hiraetheral​ @iosonoarina​ @8iunie​ @idyllicbutterfly​ @fanfictionandfluff​ @blackberryblossom​ @immrbrightsideeee​ @odilevonbrekker​

#maneskin fiction #damiano david imagine #damiano david x you #damiano david x reader #damiano david fiction #maneskin imagine #maneskin x you #maneskin x reader #quiet music #bethanysnow #mywriting

[shadowsinger11]

Kinktober: Day 2

Pairing: Kim Seungmin x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: 18+, dirty talk, teasing, handjob, semi-public sex, edging, orgasm denial

Kinktober taglist:

@hongjoongsbae @straykisz

"Baby, relax, you're going to do just fine."

"That's not helping much, you know?" Seungmin sighed, fixing the folded edges of his sheet music. Although his expression remained calm, he was frantically bouncing his knee and biting the inside of his cheek. You placed a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to ease his anxiety, but he didn't seem to notice at all, repeatedly looking through the lyrics he'd memorized by heart as if they could tell him something he wished to hear.

Being an incredibly capable and skilled vocalist was something Seungmin was aware and proud of, despite not being boastful about it - a quality you highly admired. Up until that point he had felt safe performing in the company of his longtime friends and colleagues, but collaborating with another two immensely talented vocalists had shaken him to the core, causing him to doubt not only his place on the show, but in the industry as well. Chan had done his part, being the attentive leader he was and walking Seungmin through the process of coping with anxiety, but there were things he had to do himself.

It wasn't the bright Seungmin you knew, you concluded as you sat further back on your chair and let your boyfriend deal with his stress however he saw fit. The studio was fairly quiet, only Chan, Jisung and Changbin's voices occasionally being heard from outside the recording room as they last checked out the equipment.

"I'm afraid I won't do as well as others tell me I will," he whispered, not really intending to be heard, but you did anyway. "Jongho and Eunkwang are brilliant in their recordings and now that it's time for me to send mine, I'm scared I won't be able to pull it off technique-wise."

He was rightfully concerned, but you couldn't let stress strip him off of his abilities. You leaned towards him and put a hand on his thigh.

"Look, you're currently just rehearsing. No one's rating the files you'll send, you're all simply exchanging experience and advice from a distance," you began, rubbing gentle circles with your thumb which finally caught his attention. "Eunkwang and Jongho might be amazing, but they're not flawless. Plus they're extremely sweet, they wouldn't deliver criticism in a rude way."

Seungmin smiled, probably for the first time that day, and warmth washed over you. He placed his hand over yours that was on his thigh and gave it a grateful squeeze.

"You have a point. Plus I can always try again if I don't like the way I sound."

"See? You got this, I believe in you."

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, savouring his warmth. It was short and sweet, the aftertaste awakening you more than the morning coffee you had both had.

He smiled at you and went for another when the door flew open.

"We won't be starting in another 15 minutes at least," announced Chan, visibly frustrated. "The wi-fi is lagging and there are issues with getting the software going. Doing alright, mate?"

"Just fine, only a bit anxious," Seungmin shrugged.

"Ah, I see..." Chan said, but rushed to add, "But you're more than prepared. Plus you have your lucky charm by your side for courage." He chuckled, pointing at you, and your boyfriend became flustered.

Once the leader left the room, you turned to Seungmin with the most smug expression you could muster.

"Lucky charm, huh? How come?"

He didn't reply, instead attempting to fight back a smile, and you realised this most likely wasn't the first time Chan or anyone else had called you this just to tease the boy. How endearing.

"Still anxious, pup?"

"Pretty much, yeah," he nodded, and you were aware he was way more stressed than he'd let on. You were going to fix that.

You removed the pile of paper from his lap and he gave you a confused look.

"What's with you?"

"You heard Channie, we'll be stuck like this for awhile," you spoke innocently, too innocently for his liking, and ran a hand up his chest. "Let me show you just how lucky I can be."

His eyes widened in realisation and he froze in place. Your hand caressed his face, then found its way around his neck to pull him closer to you. You kissed him once again, slow but more forceful, and he gladly returned, his arm coming to rest around your waist. The only thing you could smell was his cologne and you made it your mission to become soaked in the scent by the time you were done with him.

His lips moved like honey against yours, inviting you for a taste over and over again, and you couldn't get enough, not even when his mouth welcomed your tongue, causing you to moan into it. His hand tugged at the hair at the nape of your neck, aligning your head the way he wanted, and you could only receive what he was giving you.

Remembering what you were doing this for, you slid a hand down his stomach.

Seungmin pulled away, glancing down at your hand unbuckling his belt, but did not have time to hesitate as he captured your lips again, along with your surprised gasp. You rushed unzip his pants, palm slipping in, only to glide over his semi-hard cock. He shifted in his seat and groaned into your mouth.

Running out of time, patience and sanity, you grabbed a handful of his cock, struggling to wrap your palm around it, and palmed him through his boxers, causing Seungmin to pull away. His chest was heaving, cheeks red, and he bit his lip in a pathetic attempt to stop his moans as you kept up the pace. You found him incredibly adorable like this; aroused and needy, all for you.

You weren't keen on making him wait so your hand slipped into his underwear, getting a grip of his now rock hard cock. Your thumb flicked the head, gathering the built up precum and smearing it all over his shaft as lube. Seungmin grabbed the armrests of his chair, knuckles turning white from the force. You smiled to yourself and twisted his length a couple of times, knowing he especially hated being teased like this.

He threw his head back, entirely giving in to your touch, letting you finish what you had started. Full of pride, you leaned into him and attached your mouth to his neck, peppering gentle kisses all over the skin, completely contrasting the way you were rapidly jerking him off in his jeans. He was fighting the urge to fuck your hand, puffed lips letting out short breaths. You squeezed harder, fisting him as fast as you could, and you playfully grazed his earlobe with your teeth. You had him right where you wanted, desperate and in a state of euphoria, waiting for the needed release… that never came.

"I- what?! Why?" Seungmin asked, shocked and out of breath. Betrayal was written all over his face and you tried not to laugh as he zipped up his pants.

"You'll get the rest after the rehearsal," you stated and his expression immediately went from confused to frustrated - you knew he was plotting murder and the thought both terrified and amused you. You decided to push him further.

"Still anxious?"

Whether he was planning to reply or not, it didn't matter as the door opened again.

"All set up. Starting in 5," Chan's cheerful voice echoed and he left as quickly as he entered.

Seungmin grabbed his sheet music and bottle of water, and you walked him to the door.

"Good luck with Love Poem, honey," you wished, rubbing his shoulder affectionately as if you hadn't just fucked the shit out of him. He responded to your arrogance with a smirk.

"Don't worry about me, darling. You're the one in trouble."

Chills went down your spine and the door closed behind his back.

Kinktober Masterlist 2021

#seungmin smut #seungmin x reader #kim seungmin #skz smut #skz fanfic #skz x reader #kinktober 2021

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Winning the Championship Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 夺冠之约, which has not been released in EN! 🍒

[ Released on 28 September 2021 ]

The vibrations of my phone rouse me from the tediously long document. After looking at the caller, I answer it hurriedly.

MC: Gavin? Has your mission ended?

Gavin (on the phone): Soon. I’ll be back before the weekend. I should be able to make it in time for that café event you mentioned.

I suddenly recall how I had mentioned this event to Gavin before he left for the mission last month, but...

MC: Sob sob. I can’t go this weekend. I’m producing a new show, so I’ve been busier lately.

Gavin (on the phone): Is it a difficult show?

MC: A little bit... Come to think of it, Gavin, what type of sports shows appeal to you?

Gavin (on the phone): ...appeal to me? Competitive sports with commentators.

Just as I’m hesitating on whether to tell him about the problems I’m facing, someone on the other end of the line seems to be calling for him.

MC: Go and do your thing. I’m not facing any issues.

Gavin (on the phone): Okay. Contact me anytime if needed.

Right after hanging up, Minor knocks on the door and comes in.

Minor: Boss, I’ve made the arrangements for the collaborative filming of “Life’s Limits” with the City Sports and Culture Bureau. As per your request, I’ve selected a group of amateur racing hobbyists. The name list and materials have been sent to your e-mail.

MC: You’ve worked hard.

Minor: Boss, why don’t you take a break? Your dark circles have appeared.

MC: The company competing with us for this project is Light Media, and it’s much more experienced in producing sports shows as compared to us. We can’t let our guard down.

After more than half a month of research, I locked in my decision regarding the filming site - Hurricane Club.

This club is very well-known amongst motorcycle enthusiasts, and often organises competitions for amateurs.

This weekend, the club will be conducting a three-day training, and participants will be guided by professional coaches. There will even be a friendly race at the end.

The competition has a very novel format - it’s a three-person relay.

I intend to search for three photogenic motorists to form a small team. By following their daily experiences throughout the entire process, including their training sessions and the race, I’d produce a story about the team.

Minor: Boss, according to your request, isn’t the best choice Bro Gavin?

MC: That’s true...

During the initial planning stage, the first person I thought of was actually Gavin.

However, he doesn’t like appearing on shows, and was only willing to appear in previous shows because of me.

Moreover, he’s been away for a mission which lasted close to a month, and should get a proper rest over the weekend.

MC: In short, he... doesn’t quite fit the standard. You can leave work for now.

After sending Minor away, I re-focus on the thick stack of materials in front of me.

-

Before the peak hour on Friday, I head towards Hurricane Club in a rental car. While doing pre-filming checks, I answer the phone.

Minor: Boss, the three people we agreed on have set out. I’ve also found a suitable substitute. After careful selection, he’s definitely a top quality choice. I can guarantee that nothing will go wrong! You’ll get to see him once you reach the club! Boss, thanks for your hard work!

Before I have a chance to probe further, the dial tone sounds in the next second.

MC: This fellow is once again acting first before reporting afterwards... there shouldn’t be a problem, right?

Upon reaching the club, I meet up with the three team members we had contacted earlier.

Based on background research conducted by the company, they are generally outstanding, and are very enthusiastic when it comes to racing.

One of them is a young participant called Kelly, who obtained an amateur championship title in the past.

I quickly introduce the details of the shoot to them.

MC: Bro Liu, Xiao Yu, Kelly, thank you all for participating in this shoot. Afterwards, the club will be allocating you to your coaches for guidance. Even though this team was put together at short notice, I hope everyone can have faith in each other, and motivate each other. We also prepared a substitute team member...

??: Sorry I’m late.

A familiar voice drifts from behind me, and I immediately turn around.

Sunlight falls on every step Gavin takes towards me. The pair of eyes looking at me are bright and clear.

Gavin: I’m the substitute team member, Gavin. I’ve kept you waiting, Producer.

-

After the club assigns the coaches and enters the test run phase, I finally digest the “unexpected surprise” of Gavin’s sudden appearance.

I initially think of finding a chance to talk to him privately, but the coaches who arrive one after another leave me with no choice but to retract the gaze which keeps straying towards that figure.

I shake my head, forcing myself to focus on my current task. By the time all the filming angles are checked, most of the morning has already gone by.

Scanning my surroundings, I don’t see Gavin anywhere.

MC: ...where is he?

-

Walking along the racetrack and towards the vending machine, I decide to get a bottle of coffee to fill myself up before looking for Gavin.

Perhaps because I didn’t have breakfast, I suddenly feel dizzy after taking a few sips.

By the time I regain my senses, I’m carried over to a long bench by a familiar force. Meeting Gavin’s evidently frantic gaze, I quickly tug the corners of my lips upwards into a smile.

MC: Gavin, I was just about to look for you. Turns out you were here.

He doesn’t speak. Lifting his hand, he wipes away the thin sheen of sweat on my forehead lightly. Then, a breeze envelops me gently, warm and comforting.

He takes the coffee in my hand smoothly, then retrieves soya milk and a sandwich from the bag in his hand.

Gavin: Eat your breakfast.

MC: ...okay, I’ll listen to Sir Gavin.

I munch on the sandwich obediently, occasionally blinking at Gavin to convey a message which says, “I feel much better, so there’s no need to worry”.

Gavin’s slightly furrowed brows finally arch subconsciously.

Gavin: I heard from Minor that you’ve been working overnight to prepare for this show.

MC: Haha, don’t listen to his nonsense. It isn’t that exaggerated...

Gavin: I also heard that I didn’t fit the standard. What standard did you set?

MC: ...

I clench my fists in secret, condemning Minor from the bottom of my heart for his “heinous act” of betraying me.

MC: I can explain! You don’t like appearing on camera, and your identity in STF is a pretty sensitive topic...

Gavin: Mm, you’re right.

Gavin deliberately elongates his words, as though he doesn’t plan to let the matter go just like this.

Gavin: So what’s your standard?

MC: ...we hope for the motorists to have a certain level of professional competence, to be sufficiently photogenic, and most importantly, to have an enthusiastic heart. But I really didn’t mean to say that you didn’t fit this standard!

Gavin is finally unable to suppress the upward turn of his lips.

Gavin: Once you’re done today, sleep early tonight.

-

The training proceeds methodically, and filming goes very smoothly.

The roar of motors drift from the club’s racetrack, and motorcycles of every hue speed freely along the racetrack.

In the camera lens, two blue and white motorcycles seem to be speeding at the same pace, as though they’d break through the finish line at the same time.

Kelly: Have you ever participated in professional racing?

Gavin: Nope.

Kelly: The way you cornered the motorcycle a few times - you can’t do that with ease without a few years of experience. How did you do it?

Gavin: I just drive often.

Kelly: Let’s find a chance to ride together some time.

Kelly pats him on the shoulder before continuing the training. Gavin walks over to me, twisting open a bottle of water before taking a sip.

Gavin: Is filming going well?

MC: There’s too much footage from the training sessions. I might consider adding a special segment for interviews.

While speaking, I’m struck with an idea.

MC: Mr Gavin, why don’t you have a pre-interview with me to test out the effects?

I lift a bottle of water towards Gavin. 

MC: What made you like motorcycles?

Gavin: I don’t have a precise answer. By the time I realised it, I already liked them.

MC: In that case, are there any motorcycle-related experiences which left a deep impression on you?

Gavin is silent for a moment. He seems to think of something, then chuckles softly.

Gavin: The time it overturned.

MC: Overturned? When did that happen? You can tell me in secret - this will definitely not be disclosed to the public.

Gavin looks at me, and he speaks in a volume only the both of us can hear -

Gavin: [whispers] The time when I rode on a snowmobile with the girl I like.

The snow field in my memories is cold, but the breath at my ear causes the temperature of my ear to rise.

[Note] This is a reference to Snow Mountain Date

MC: [blushing] Cough, that was...

All of a sudden, a clamour from the racetrack interrupts my words. The both of us stand up, only to discover that a motorcycle has overturned on the track.

Many people are standing at the side, and some call out for the medical staff.

Gavin: That seems to be Old Liu. Let’s go over to have a look.

-

Doctor: There are soft tissue injuries to your wrist and leg. Recuperate properly over this duration, and don’t engage in any intense activities.

Bro Liu: What about the competition tomorrow...

MC: Bro Liu, just recuperate. The doctor said that once your injuries are healed, you can still ride motorcycles in the future.

Bro Liu glances at Gavin.

Bro Liu: I guess I must admit that I’m getting old. It’s time to hand the baton to the young.

After contacting Minor and telling him about what happened, Gavin and I leave the hospital.

MC: Bro Liu worked so hard over the past two days. He must have really wanted to participate in tomorrow’s competition...

Gavin: In that case, we’ll work hard together with his effort. This is when the substitute steps in.

-

It’s the night before the competition, and I’m looking through the contents of the edited shoot over the past two days in my room.

After cutting the cornering training, I modify it into a slow-motion feature, then insert a few casual interactions between the team members as embellishments.

But no matter how I edit it, the clip is unable to convey the feelings I hoped it would.

I grab my hair in frustration, unwilling to accept my defeat. I locate the original video, watching it from the start.

The sound of the doorbell interrupts my slightly muddy train of thoughts. Opening the door, I see Gavin standing outside.

Gavin: I saw that the lights were still on in your room, so I came over to take a look. Why aren’t you sleeping?

MC: Gavin...

Hearing the gloominess in my tone, he takes my hand and pulls me over to sit down on the sofa.

Gavin: Filming didn’t go well?

Placing the notebook laptop between us, I play the recording.

MC: For this shoot, I wanted to edit it into a small unscripted story to showcase the competitiveness and fun of being a racer. As of now, the story aspect is going smoothly, and the interactions between people are interesting too. But I think it’s missing something which can grab one’s attention immediately...

Gavin looks at the screen and ponders for a moment. Then, he suddenly asks me a question.

Gavin: Want to go for a stroll? It’s too stuffy in the room. Getting some fresh air might give you new inspiration.

-

Likely to conserve energy for the competition tomorrow, everyone has returned to rest very early, and the racetrack is completely empty.

Gavin leaps onto the bleachers, then reaches out to me.

Gavin: Let’s go for a spin.

He takes my hand, guiding me onto the vehicle. Then, he puts on a helmet for me, teaching me how to grab the throttle and brakes.

MC: Gavin, are you sure this is okay?

Gavin: You can’t go onto the road, but we’re still within the venue. After filming for days, don’t you want to experience it yourself?

MC: I want to!

Gavin sits behind me, two arms securing me steadily in his arms.

Along with the familiar sound of the engine, the motorcycle moves. The speed is incredibly steady, and is just right for enjoying the pleasant evening breeze.

MC: Gavin, can we go a little faster?

Gavin: We can. Sit tight.

A loud roar drifts to my ears, and the motorcycle flies forward like an arrow leaving a bow.

Very soon, the most difficult part of the racetrack appears, comprising of consecutive bends. During the training sessions, many motorists faced many trials at this area.

Gavin grips my hand, loosening the throttle, causing the the motorcycle to slow down.

MC: There’s no need to step on the brakes?

Gavin: No need. Engine braking is enough to reduce the speed.

While speaking, the motorcycle tilts at an unbelievable angle at a turn. Gavin controls the direction with composure, air currents at the side keeping the motorcycle steady.

The motorcycle dangerously yet steadily completes the curved track, returning onto a straight track and picking up speed once again.

Gavin: MC, can you see where the cameras are? That’s the goal. On the racetrack, that’s the only thing in a racer’s eyes.

The sound of wind at my ears seems to quieten down. The moment we charge past the finishing line, I suddenly have a feeling that a full stop has been drawn on the racetrack.

Even after the motorcycle makes its gradual halt, I’m unable to return to my senses.

Seeming to understand my silence, Gavin doesn’t speak. He simply pushes the motorcycle that I'm on patiently, walking slowly.

MC: Gavin, I know what this story is missing. Stirring the emotions of viewers requires the most important thing which can make them seethe with excitement -

Gavin: Winning the championship.

MC: That’s right. All the effort from before is meant for the final sprint towards the goal. Winning the championship is the core of a competitive spirit, and is also what the show’s theme of “limit” is seeking after. But... Gavin, do you think we have a chance at winning the championship tomorrow?

Gavin: Yes. But while we’re improving, others are improving as well. Everyone on the racetrack will be aiming towards victory. The people you selected are very outstanding. Believe in them, and believe in yourself.

MC: Mm, everyone has already worked very hard. When it comes to winning, it’s good enough if they try their best.

Gavin parks the motorcycle properly, then carries me down from it.

Gavin: Go back and have a good sleep. You don’t have to worry too much about the competition tomorrow.

-

It’s finally time for the competition. Seeing the filled audience seats, I feel incredibly nervous.

Kelly: I didn't expect to see so many people.

MC: It’s a Sunday, and the club decided to open the venue to the public as publicity.

I take a deep breath to calm my emotions.

MC: Let’s enjoy the fun of racing to our heart’s content! Shall we do a pre-competition ceremony?

While speaking, I stretch out my hand. Gavin cooperates, placing his palm over the back of my hand. He gives it a gentle pinch, and it feels as though an endless stream of strength is being transmitted.

It’s a sense of security belonging only to Gavin.

MC: Safety first, the competition second. Everyone, all the best!

All the motorists have taken their places at the starting line. Based on prior suggestions by the club, I’ve arranged Kelly to take on the first battle, and Gavin will be the finale.

With the green light signalling the start of the competition, twenty motorcycles which have been waiting for action seem to sprint forward at the same time.

The sound of motor engines causes everyone’s adrenaline to spike, and the crowd becomes immersed in the competition.

I’m positioned closest to the audience seats. This is the first time I’m viewing a competition from such a close distance. Even though it’s an amateur competition, it’s sufficiently astounding.

Xiao Yu makes a few minor mistakes at the bends, causing the team to lag behind temporarily.

Carefully observing the changes on the racetrack, I don’t feel overly anxious.

Because it’d be Gavin’s turn next. With him around, I always feel exceptionally at ease.

I look at Gavin as he waits at the handover area with a helmet over his head. He seems to sense my gaze, and turns around to see my thumbs up.

In the next second, his motorcycle charges into the racetrack.

The blue and white motorcycle courses past the bends nimbly in almost “L” shape movements.

As compared to my experience last night, I can see Gavin’s cornering techniques even more clearly from the audience seats.

Although the camera is unable to capture his expression, it isn’t difficult to imagine his focused and bright eyes from underneath the helmet.

When the competition enters its final round, Gavin has already reached the second place, and there’s hardly any difference between him and the first competitor.

The audience’s emotions are stirred by this intense competition, and the sound of cheers surge forward like a tide.

I find myself being influenced as well, staring fixedly at that sprinting figure.

After the upcoming bend, the goal will not be far.

Unexpectedly, a motorcycle behind suddenly accelerates towards the bend, using its full strength to make a last effort.

However, the motorcycle tilts too much. It’s clear that the centre of gravity was not controlled properly, sending the motorist collapsing onto the track.

At this point, Gavin’s motorcycle is already over half of the bend. He controls the dip of the motorcycle, barely avoiding the fallen vehicle.

Because of this incident, some distance is pulled between himself and the motorist in first place.

On the straight road, Gavin’s motorcycle suddenly accelerates, keeping pace with the motorist in front.

In this moment, time seems to slow down. I hold my breath, feeling as though my spirit has become one with that sprinting figure.

The rustling of leaves, the flapping wings of birds, the yelling of the audience, the checkered flag waving mid-air... all of them gather into one voice-

Announcer: The first place goes to No. 07!

On the big screen, Gavin’s name is listed impressively at the top.

At the final moment, he attained first place with a 0.06 second difference, winning the championship.

Gavin did it!

The motorcycle comes to a gradual halt. Gavin removes his helmet, droplets of sweat reflecting bright rays of light beneath the sunlight.

The smile on his face is sparkling and dazzling, bringing with it the confidence belonging to a victor.

Such a result is both unexpected yet within my expectations.

Gavin turns around, looking squarely in my direction.

He shakes his head casually, which has gotten messy from his helmet, and says two words.

Gavin: We won.

-

The employees push the motorcycles back to the venue. Gavin heads over to the referee’s seat, lowers his head and says a few things before walking to me.

The gold medal in his hand dangles slightly, reflecting a dazzling light.

Cheers from the surroundings grow brighter as he draws closer. Separated by the bleachers, he stretches out his hand towards me -

He leans over the bleachers slightly. As he draws closer, I can detect the scent belonging only to Gavin.

Gavin hangs the medal around my neck, announcing our victory.

Gavin: The champion title - we’ve got it.

My mouth opens, but I have no idea what to say. My body reacts faster than my brain. I stretch out both arms, hugging him with all the strength in my body.

Scorching warmth and the dampness of sweat from the competition linger on him.

Gavin returns the embrace. It’s as though this hug is enough for us to understand each other’s sentiments.

Gavin: I think I heard you cheering me on.

MC: I did it so softly, but you could hear it?

Gavin: Mm, the wind told me. Everything you say - I can hear them.

MC: There’s still one thing the wind hasn’t had the time to tell you. I’ll say it myself right now.

Turning my face to the side, I bring it close to his ear.

MC: Gavin, you’ll always be the only champion in my heart.

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🏍 Art based on this date: here

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