#anyway. it's done!!! yay!! I wanted to write more about that idea but honest I am just happy that I finished it x33

[kanene-yaaay]

Bonds, Friendship and other strange things that are affected by it

Kanene’s notes: It’s been! A long time!! What a hello! :D Uhhhh, tbh, I am not sure when this is going to be posted because I haven’t finished writing the ending yet but at the same time I can’t think of an ending for it so dfgthyujuhygtffg let’s see which part of me will win when this comes out xD

(Edit: So, I came here to post it unfinished but !!! a suden lighting of inspiration striked me so!! dfhyujikjh yay! another fic! lets gooo)

Warnings: None. Around 1000 words of Lee!Percy and Ler!Grover because those two are incredibly fun and cool to be around and think about.

[~*~]

Grover cared about Percy. He really did. Of course. No one would create a bond that can possibily cost your life with someone that you didn’t trust as if the own Destiny had intertwined your existences to follow each other at the hardest times. Especially if that other person was a half-blood that was more into fights, problems and almost-death situations than most teenagers could admit.

So, yes, he loved Percy. He was his friend. His best friend. And maybe a brother, but this title was already well placed in Tyson and he was not about to fight a three foot tall cyclop for it. He had enough fighting and marrying cyclops for his life. Thank you very much.

Anyway. Love and Care. Yeah.

But this was starting to get ridiculous.

Happiness and joy exploded in his chest like fireworks being set off just under his skin, leaving his entire body with a buzzing, kind of tickly feeling running just about everywhere.

"My gods, Percy, I am not even touching you!!" He had to almost physically bite the giggles that threatened to spill from his throat.

Percy wasn't so lucky. His face was already beginning to be tainted with red by both the unstoppable onslaught of titters and snickers and the embarrassment of Grover being absolutely right.

"Shut up, shut up. You're so stupid, this is so stuhuhupid!"

"Really?" Grover rested his hands on the other's sides and almost jumped in surprise with the phantom feeling of ticklish shock that made his body want to curl in a ball of protection.

It was no surprise when the younger began kicking and crackling even before Grover squeezed the tickle spot as if his life depended on it.

"Pehercy! There is no way someone can be that ticklish!"

“Shuhut it!”

And that was the thing: Percy was actually NOT that ticklish. He swear that he wasn’t! If he crumbled just with the slightly hint of wiggly fingers and a couple of squeezes, Annabeth would have destroyed him on all their playful debates for now. Damn, if he was that sensitive, he wouldn't have survived his own childhood with a mother that was as sweet and as lovely as merciless during an attempt to cheer her son up.

But he couldn’t articulate this. Not when that dumb bond could make him feel not only his own butterflies flying and dancing crazy on his stomach, but also that sunny feeling of a playful joy that he was sure that came from Grover's pride making the Son of Poseidon, who survived two gigantic wars and another countless life-threatening fights, die with just some digging on his ribcage and oh, shit he was getting higher, nononono-

"Stohohohop!!" He arched his back, hands holding Grover's wrists but too much weak to push the scribbling fingers that were focusing too much in that awful space between each rib to be fair away. He was sure the entire world could hear the way his laughter got higher and louder even before Grover decided to close his hands in fists and drill his knuckles on the skin. 

For a moment Percy almost regreted embarassing his friend in front of Juniper, but the feeling almost as quick as it was gone. 

"I hahahahate this. I hate this so much!"

Grover didn't even falter for a second, barely stopping to acknowledge the happy warmth - like watching the sunrise in the beach with your favorite people around you - that definitely wasn't only his taking over his senses before answering. "Yes, Percy, of course you do. Just like fishes hate water, but you do."

"I'm serious!"

"I am literally agreeing with you, dude."

"No, you're not!"

"Now you're just making stuff up."

And before Percy could protest more Grover decide to finally end the other's suffering and worm his way to the armpits with ease pratice, barely fliching at the honest-to-the-gods scream that came out from his friend's mouth before he fell in silent laughter, his entire body shaking with every giggle and hands twitching between hiding his face every time another snort was fished from his throat or keep trying (and failing) in pry the offending fingers from their unfair, drilling attack on the ticklish pits.

A faintly sound of leaves moving was the only warning that they weren’t alone anymore. Grover smiled even before the so known amused voice called their attention.

"Oh, it's you. I thought the Stymphalian birds were back for revenge. Hi, seaweed brain."

“Hey, Annabeth!”

With all the noise, Grover was surprised Annabeth took as long as she did to appear.

Percy seemed to think otherwise.

"No!" Suddenly his efforts to escape got 10 times worse, which, since he really wasn't trying to truly get away from the very beginning, made it see like Grover was fighting against an old lazy chihuahua. "How did you find us!"

"Did he interrupt your date again?"

At the reminder, Grover fred the rest of his fingers to claw at Percy's belly - right above his bellybutton, wehere were storaged the best collection of snorts and shrieks, while his thumbs were still drumming on his armpits.

"Yes." He had to shout above the other's high pitched laughter. "And it's Kill Percy Thursday!"

“How could I forget?” The blonde started cracking her fingers, making bubbly excitment run so quickly and strongly in his senses that Grover had to stop the tickling to snicker, instinctively fliching away. Annabeth eyed both of them with a glint of fondness and amusement that did nothing to hide the pure mischieviousness taking over her expressions. “By the way, I think I am owned some revenge since someone decided to prank me with those fake books last week.”

“It was good knowing you, dude.”

Joy and warmth and pride and care chasing each other in his chest while he tried to keep the daughter of Athena away from his tickle spots with no sucess.

The things he had to put up with because of his friends, really.

[is-the-owl-video-cute]

Saw your Neil Gaiman post and as someone that found comfort in Good Omens (and got hyperfixated on it), I'm finally glad that some people are finally talking about how he isn't that great.

Even as a Fan, GOmens fandom is so...weird. See, in other fandoms people won't give much of a flying f/ck about the authors besides some mild respect or praise, but GOmens praise Neil SO HARD, despite giving off some iffy vibes (that now I understand why, after that big post) Never liked how almost every single POC character in GO has such a minimal role, same with women characters, the fact he's been caught (and that can be easily checked) lying about his ideas surrounding GOmens, the way he went from "Is not a romance, but it can be if you want to" -> "i always wrote it as a love story" also how he went from "There won't be another season because of Terry and because the ideas for the next book were incorporated in the show" -> "It was in 2019 when I finished writing S2 with the ideas I discussed with Terry before he died" and like seriously no one never noticed how much of a clown he his lying and backpedalling all over again again? Then there's how bad rep for fat people Sandman was and instead of accepting criticism he just keeps giving some "vague intelligent answer" and sits and waits for his legion of fans with a parasocial relationship to defend him. But somehow he's treated as a world treasure and a genius with a big brain. And this is less problematic and more petty but I'll be honest. He isn't that much of a good writer anyway? The prose is okay is good, but the worldbuilding and lore and characters is mostly edgy and lacks deepness. His fans seriously want to make a sea out of muddle puddles,,, and that's fair! Is such a big part of fan culture to dig into the smallests of things and make an universe out of a cardbox background character, but please, don't give Neil the credit that he doesn't deserve. And what proves more to me that he isn't that good of a writer, is just...take a look at that mess of a S2 of Good Omens, it was so bad that some people had to THEORIZE that it was bad on purpose. I have such a beef with S2, characters like Muriel, Saraqael and Michael and Maggie and Nina were so heavily promoted and of course everyone was hyped, finally more POC, more disabled characters, and yay, women! And they're lesbians! And and...and hold on, how it is that Muriel didn't do that much at all? How it is that Saraqael after being so hyped BARELY had almost nothing to do, is really that all the disabled rep we got? How is it that Michael and Uriel barely had anything to do and were just background characters again? It just angers me with how with so many fem-presenting characters, and POC and disabled persons cast, they literally add nothing to the series, AND NO ONE EVER TALKS ABOUT IT. Is just this endless praise for Neil and his oh big brain. All praise Neil Gaiman, our lord and saviour of queer people. HOW IT IS, THAT THE TWO LESBIANS HYPED ROMANCE WAS ALL RELATED TO AZIRAPHALE MEDDLING WITH THEM TRYING TO SHIP THEM? And it also was bad, very badly done, is really this the women representation we got, seriously??? Talking about misleading advertising.

S2 was such such a mess, it just shows how much Good Omens needed Terry to be, well, Good Omens. I really suspect Neil stole ideas from the fandom because S2 was just a trainwreck of all the fanfic tropes you could find in GO fandom and is almost disrespectful to Terry's work in Good Omens, and I don't care for how much Neil makes his friendship with Terry as a pity party and as a "it gives me so much joy, Terry would be so happy", because seriously it's almost manipulative. Talking about Manipulative. His meddling with fandom is starting to feel unprofessional, but this ask is already long... Sorry lmao, something on me snapped after getting finally the solid evidence that Neil .Is. Not. Great

Oh he’s always been completely unprofessional but since he types in a mixture of corporate-speak and “cool dad” talk his fanbase doesn’t notice.

Here’s the thing about Neil, he’s both petty and extremely insincere. People criticized lolicon sin his presence and he was so offended on the behalf of weirdos who pleasure themselves to Hentai depicting child molestation that he wrote a several paragraph long response dismissing simulated child pornography as simply being “icky speech” that should be protected by the sacred American constitution despite, you know, the fact he’s not even American so his weird obsession with the first amendment and only ever really bringing it up to defend simulated child porn is and always has been suspicious.

As for his backpedalling, the man sees $$$$ and just goes for anything he can find to make more. People love to say “oh but he donates tens of thousands to charity!” yeah, usually to HIS charity for bailing out pedophiles. With funds typically out of the wallets of his fans due to fundraising it rather than coming out of his own checkbook so it’s not exactly a charitable action as much as it’s an empty gesture. And frankly he almost certainly just does it for tax benefits if we’re going to be honest here. He continued good omens because it would make money and generate more attention towards him and he’d be the brave hero who brought back show that did well. That’s it.

He’s just discount, off-brand Elon. Rich white man who thinks he’s gods gift to man despite bumbling through even the most basic concepts because his fans would walk into traffic blindfolded to defend him from even the mildest of criticism.

People on here just like him because they’re starstruck that a creator of a popular IP is active on this site and because he produces media that’s adapted with white middle aged twinks who are dubiously romantically affiliated.

[aita-blorbos]

💾⚡ to find this post, also OC related yay!

AITA for believing I was trying to save the world?

That is an odd title I'm sure but please understand it has purpose. I am only posting this as I feel guilt for what I've done but I want to understand if it was truly my own fault.

For starters, I (he/they, 52) had spent years in my youth attempting to recover from what I will only describe as the most horrendous cult to exist within my world. They drabbled within a prophecy that basically entailed a new coming of age where nonhumans (or called unhumans here) could live properly under the same eye as humanity. Since at that point until very recently, unhumans had been unable to go to where humans are due to fear of prosecution.

But said prophecy also, unfortunately, foretold of a elder god by the name of "The Lady of the Void" who would be the one to watch over us all.

Safe to say they had failed due to lack of proper resources back in the day and guidance I suppose. Doesn't help my younger brother (who is now 49) had burnt the place to the ground as we separated. For years it haunted me but I had suppressed it to pursue life properly. At least until my 30s when I began to indulge back with assistance from someone (she/it,???) who I will call Lilly as that is what she went by nickname wise.

We met in college and it was absolutely wonderful to study with. However, after some time, she had began to tell me about the old prophecy from when I was but a child. I was at first repulsed, frightened, but eventually we both came to the idea that perhaps this written scroll of doom was misunderstood. After all, she studied better than I had and I believed she was correct. Especially at that time I had been struggling to make any meaningful connections.

That said, began what was my nearly two decade long pursuit of making the word come true- a birth of a new God that would let everyone be at ease. Finally, we could see the sun properly and bask in the stars above. But it took a lot of painful sacrifices to my health and relationships, as I did not realize the chosen one or "vessel" was my younger brother's son "W" (23).

At first I had attempted to be passive within my attempts to bring the vessel to the altar, much to Lilly's dismay. But I had began to, forcefully by something beyond my own mind, get more and more aggressive until W had been forced a horrible hand. Be chased like a deer from a human and watch everyone around him die /or/ finally listen to me.

He did listen. And those words make me sick as it wasn't fully me at that point. It... Felt other, like a puppet forced to speak the puppeteer's words... Anyways, once I had done the ritual [although partially interrupted by W's partner(?)], W had began to corrupt and go through the most horrific metamorphosis I've ever seen.

Unluckily, I was the first and only person slain. The rest, from fuzzy memories, were turned into husks of their former selves. Luckily, the process of the world being destroyed was stopped I believe and they all are happy at home... As I had been given a proper chance to try again in my own place with a wonderful child now.

But I cannot shake a feeling of guilt from my chest, nauseating as it is. I know I had done horrible things but most of it felt so.... Forced onto me. Which since I had began a more violent pursuit, Lilly had disappeared completely. Not a single trace- no books even hold images or writing of her when there should have been.

But I digress, am I the "asshole" here? Please do be honest and I apologize for the long rambling here.

[solarsavoy]

Hey, remember that wip ask thing? ^^

💖 📝 🤔 💻

Yay ask!!

💖 What do you like most about your own writing?

I love getting into the headspace of the characters. I often write first person POV so I can feel what they feel, think what they think, experience what they experience as they experience it (because I also tend to write in present tense too). And tbh, I also like it because it's easier to hide things. Like, one thing that bothers me with third omniscient is that you know everything the writer wants you to know, which is fine, but then I often wonder why they don't include certain things. If I know everything, then why aren't they telling me everything? Anyway, it also feels more real and honest to be limited to first person, and when I read a story, I don't just want to go to another world, I want to be another person. Writing does that for me.

📝 What is one growth area you have for your writing?

Describing the world around me so I don't suffer from white room syndrome. Also, I'd like to go back to writing regularly, but I've also just been in such a funk lately. 😓

🤔 What is the hardest part of writing fic?

As of recently, I'd say keeping up with it, but also slowing down and paying attention to the little stuff is hard lately too. I'll write an idea, then expound it into a summary, then expound it to a more in depth summary, but then I have trouble writing it all out after that. There will be little things, conversation flow or things like setting down a drink on a table that I have trouble putting together, which is how I get stuck. :/

💻 Do you do research for your fics? What’s the deepest dive you’ve done?

Absolutely. It can be as small as checking the definitions of words just to make sure I'm using them correctly (which I do often) to digging up and in depth report on the deterioration of a dead body so that it can be accurate when I'm describing one, which is the deepest dive I've done and it was for Students of Despair. 😅 I mean, it's a murder mystery, I gotta be accurate. The only saving grace I had is that Kyoko was still a teenager, so I didn't have a be a CSI master with the crime scene. At that point, I'd probably actually try to interview one. Accuracy matters to me if I can help it.

Thanks so much for the ask and interactions tuuli!! 💙💙💙

Ask thing.

[gucciwins]

it's another year of halloween celebrations for Harry and Bel.

Word count: 2295

A/N: I had to write about Harryween it's a special time for Harry and Bel because it's when Bel first told Harry she loved him so the day holds a special meaning to their realtionship. anyways I hope you enjoy this small blurb. im glad you still love harry and bel so much 🫶

love on tour series

//

Los Angeles, California - October 31, 2022 

“I’m so glad you’re here with me,” Bel hugs her best friends tightly, not letting them settle in their hotel room.

“Nowhere else I would rather be on a Monday,” Sarai jokes.

“Haha,” Bel rolls her eyes, finally letting them go.

Naomi now lounging on the queen-sized bed, having removed all her clothes, leaving her in underwear and a sports bra, not wanting her airport clothes on the bed. “I’m surprised H has let you go.” 

“It’s because he’ll be over soon.” 

“Yay! I’ve missed him,” Naomi and Bel turn to look at Sarai, who sits there, confused at their shocked expressions. “What? Harry and I are friends.” 

Naomi looks at their partner, confused, “since when?” Sarai was always the shy one, so Naomi was shocked finding out they had grown this relationship with Harry.

They shrug, “we talked about his favorite books during Coachella, and I told him he needed to get educated. Now he sends me his thoughts after each book.” 

Bel laughs, “that’s right! He’s stocked up a lot because of you. He told me he thought you didn’t like him, so he was excited when you shared that interest with him.”

“Awe, I get that a lot.” They pout.

“It’s the resting bitch face,” Naomi tells them, causing you all to laugh because Sarai is genuinely a sweetheart once you get to know them. 

“Moving on, please. Where are our costumes, Bel?” 

“On their way, Claude did wonderfully. I couldn’t carry all three with me, so Emerson is bringing them over with someone.” 

“Oh, is she dressing up too?” Sarai asked. 

Bel shakes her head, “Emerson doesn’t celebrate the holiday.” 

“She’s still coming to the show?” Naomi wonders because they get on well with your assistant. 

“No, she’s taking the night off, '' says her niece has been dying to watch Spider-man with her.” Bel shares as she looks at a text on her phone, making her way to open the hotel room door. 

“Maguire or Holland?” 

Emerson walks in with a trolley behind her, “Garfield, obviously.” 

“Emmy!!!!!” Naomi and Sarai cheer.

“Nice to see you, but get dressed and make sure it fits before nosy H makes an appearance.” Emerson hands them a bag and leaves them to get dressed. Bel’s outfit is at the arena, promising Harry to get ready there, so they have time to get ready together.  

They’re in for a fun night. Bel couldn’t wait.

//

Bel sits patiently as she lets Ayae fix the ginger wig. If she has to be honest, she loves the look. Everyone has been very secretive about the band’s costume, and as impatient as it has her, she knows the wait will be worth it. The green contacts in her eyes feel strange, but she doesn’t mind them. 

“He’s dressed.” Harry Lambert waits patiently, admiring as Ayae brushes out the ends of Bel’s hair. 

“She’s done,” Ayae tells Lambert, who stares at Bel with awe, taking in her wig and new eye color. Bel looks at herself in the mirror, taking in every detail of her suit, proud of how amazing the suit came out. She’s Sam from Totally Spies. It’s an old TV show, and it’s a perfect trio. There were many options they were thinking about, from doing Aquamarine to doing Josie and the Pussycats, but they loved this idea, knowing it would be a costume they don’t see others doing. 

“I’ve got an idea, but also zero idea,” Lambert tells Bel honestly, taking in her complete look

Bel laughs, “my friends should be here soon. They’ll explain it to you.” 

“Not poison ivy?” 

She shakes her head and knocks on Harry’s door. 

“It’s me. Can I come in?” 

“Your eyes have to be closed,” he calls back.

She resists the urge to roll her eyes, more excited that she’s moments away from seeing him in his costume. The door creaks open, and Bel feels him guiding her in. 

“You smell nice.” She tells him, and he thanks her with a kiss on her cheek. 

“Now, you nutter.” 

Bel blinks her eyes open slowly, and there is Harry in a black slicked-back wig, black shades, and a fake cigar in his mouth to tie his entire outfit of tight black jeans and black leather jacket.

“Danny Zuko,” she gasps, reaching out to touch his jacket, taking in the detail of the entire outfit. 

He smirks, “that’s my name, don’t wear it out.”

Bel lets out a small moan knowing Harry dressed as Danny is doing many things for her. She has many unholy thoughts running through her mind.

“You look beautiful, H.” 

Harry’s face goes red, loving all the attention Bel is giving him. “I was going for sexy, but I’ll take being called beautiful.”

Her hands rest on his face as she takes in the black eyeliner. “Oh, I’m a fan of this.” 

“Stop,” he giggles.

Bel runs her hand over his shoulders and down his back. Harry lets her check him out and takes notice of every detail of the outfit. She has yet to let him get a look at her, but he knows there will be time for that after. Harry’s so lost in the feeling of her hands caressing him that he doesn’t realize she’s slipped off his leather jacket. 

“Bel,” he scolds jokingly, “no time to fool around.”

She giggles, “turn around.”

“Want to see the real good, huh?” 

He does as she asks and she gasps seeing Harryween bedazzled on the black top showcasing all his tattoos. 

“You win,” she gasps dramatically. “Absolutely, everyone is going to go insane.”  

“Are you?” He asks because Bel is the only person he cares to impress. 

“If it wasn’t hard to get out of the latex, I’d be naked already bent over the vanity as I let Danny Zuko have his way with me.” 

Harry loves when Bel’s unfiltered, it drives him crazy. He loves being the reason she’s losing her mind. 

“That can be arranged,” Harry promises. 

“Later.” She places the leather jacket over her shoulder and does a short spin. “Me dressed in only this jacket tonight. I don’t know,” she shrugs, “think about it?”

Harry bites back a moan, already picturing Bel in their shared bedroom, “nothing to think about. I’m in. It’s happening.”

Bel shines with joy at the thought of what the end of the night holds for them. She helps Harry slip the leather jacket back on, knowing they will do group photos soon. 

“Now, let me look at you, my ginger girlfriend.” 

Bel giggles, giving Harry a spin, then striking a defensive pose making Harry laugh. 

“This is amazing. Looks like a real spy suit.” 

“Yeah, amor, it is. It’s from this TV show called Totally Spies. They’re a trio, so it worked perfectly with Sarai and Naomi.” 

Now it’s Harry's turn to inspect every inch of her as she explains every section of the suit. She has a silver belt around her waist; keeping it together is a heart. She feels Harry run his fingers over the heart and waits for him to notice the small detail she added just for him. 

There’s a gasp and a tug of her waist as he looks up at her and then back to the belt where the heart's center is engraved with HS.

“You didn’t!” 

Bel giggles, “it is Harryween. Had to have an ode to you, mi vida.” 

Harry pouts, leaning in to give her a long-awaited kiss, “I love it,” he mutters against her lips. “You look incredibly sexy. Gave me a stiffy.” 

“H!” She exclaims.

He shrugs, “it’s true. Now give me kisses before they come to steal me away.” 

And, of course, Bel happily obliges. 

——-

The show was like no other; the fans were shocked when Harry and the band came out as Grease members. It is safe to say that Danny Zuko is not what they were expecting, even with all the small hints he dropped with the Ferris wheel. 

Bel is standing with Naomi and Sarai, chatting about wanting a snack and which one would go backstage when Harry finished talking to a fan about losing her job and wanting Harry to hire her. He moved to the other side of the stage, hidden behind Sarah’s drum kit. She settled for watching him on the screen. Naomi was leaning next to her, looking through the photos she had Lloyd take on her phone, wanting to see which one she wanted to post to her social media. Bel let Naomi deal with that hard decision, wanting to focus on Harry speaking to a new fan.

“What’s your name?” He leans in closer. “Hani, Honey, oh, Anahi.” He laughs. “Got it.” He smiles down at the fan gesturing to their sign. “Can I read your sign?”

“Yes, please!” 

Harry smirks, standing up and pulling his microphone cord with him. “What is Miss Belmonte dressed up as?” The sign has him laughing, but Bel is shocked he decided to read it. “Very polite.” 

“She's here. How lucky are we all? Actually, we were watching Grease together when I got the idea. She thought I’d be a wonderful Danny, so make sure you thank her.” The fans cheer, but the cameras still don’t pan to her, and she’s thankful. “Back to your question, why doesn’t she show you?” 

The crowd screams, waiting to see a spotlight shine down on her, but what happens next no one expects. The camera focuses on Bel, who looks flustered but waves proudly. Sarai and Naomi standing next to her, laughing and recording. 

“Why don’t you come up here, Bel?”

She gasps, quick to shake her head. Giving him a thumbs down, making the crowd laugh. He pouts, thinking she would have said yes right away. 

He tries another tactic. “Do you want to see Bel on stage?” Harry asks the crowd. The cheers are enough confirmation that Bel will end up on stage one way or another. 

“Don’t make me go and get you.” 

Bel knows he would but still hesitates to move towards the stage. 

When Tom pushes Bel forward, and Lloyd is there to guide her down the walkway and up the steps, she curses Harry’s name under her breath. Mitch looks apologetic as she mutters to him to help, but everyone else cheers seeing Bel on stage. 

She steps up next to Harry, accepting his extended hand, glad he was kind enough to offer her comfort.

“Hi, amor.” She greets quietly, not knowing the microphone caught her soft words. 

“Hello Bel, not your first time on stage, is it? You seem like a natural.” Harry teases. 

Bel knows he’s still a little jealous; she always told him no after going on stage in front of a sold-out stadium for another artist she likes and is friends with. 

“Care to introduce yourself?” 

He extends the microphone to her, but instead of taking it, she leans closer. “I’m Y/N Belmonte, but my friends call me Bel.” 

“Can I call you Bel?” He jokes.

“No. We’re not friends,” she teases. 

Harry takes it in stride, “ouch, don’t worry, I'll keep calling you baby.”

She giggles, feeling overwhelmed. “Well, tell the people of Los Angeles and the surrounding area what you dressed up as for Harryween?” 

“I–”

“Wait,” he cuts her off.

She frowns “what?”

“Your hair? It’s different.” He’s playing his part so well, and Bel loves him for it.

Harry gasps. “I think yours looks more natural. Your team and my team are going to have a talk, anyways back to you,” he gestures for her to continue talking. 

“I hate you,” she mutters as he brings the microphone back toward her. Harry squeezes her hand three times, and it calms her enough to know she’ll be getting off the faster she does this.

“I’m Sam from Totally Spies,” Bel tells the audience, who cheer in recognition. The cameras show her in her green latex suit and gadgets belt with Harry’s initials in the center. Her favorite part of the design. 

“Wonderful! If you don’t know where that’s from, it’s okay. It's an American show. Came out in 2001. Sam is a teenager in Beverly Hills who lives a double life as a student and a spy. Pretty cool.” Harry explains for Bel. Sarai gave him the run down backstage, and it’s safe to say Harry was fascinated. “Thanks, Bel!”

Harry hugs her, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Oh! Her best friends dressed up with her, Naomi is Clover, and Sarai is Alex. Say Hi!” 

The camera pans over to Naomi and Sarai, who are in an intimate embrace when they realize thousands of people are now staring at them. They laugh, waving at the crowd and blowing kisses. 

“Did I embarrass you? Was that enough?” Harry asks Bel, and when she nods, he lets her go. “A round of applause for Y/N Belmonte. Let's see how many more nights she joins us after tonight.” Harry jokes. “I'm afraid this might be it.” 

As nerve-wracking and thrilling as the moment was, she was glad Harry wanted to share that moment with her. She knows there will be talks of them together, some good and some bad, but at the end of the day, she loves him. 

Harry made it up to her pretty quickly when he surprised them all by singing Hopelessly Devoted, an artist both Harry and Bel loved dearly. It’s a song Harry sang to her all the time recently, claiming it had been stuck in his head when in reality, he had been rehearsing. It’s a song that holds many memories of her childhood; now, she gets to add these memories of Harry. 

It truly was a special night. 

//

thank you for reading <3 I adore you.

if you were wish to see more of harry and bel be sure to send me a message.

taglist: @alienorknight @i-got-the-cinema @myfavfanficsever @springholland @michellekstyles @harryismyfwend @japanchrry @lechairr @golden-hoax @itsmycorneroftheinternet @thurhomish @thelovecayon @dontworrysunflower @shawnieeboyy

[minor-solemnity]

yay you're taking requests!! i would lovee if you could doing a tom and reader pair. something fluffy, maybe when he wants to make sure he didn't hurt her during sexy time😳 idk something along the lines of aftercare. love you bb

Ahh thank you and yesss aftercare, fluff, comfort - all my favourite things! I hope you enjoy this because I had a lot of fun writing it haha <3

Tag List: @naps-and-lemons @jinxqsu @riddles-wifey @cakesarecute @mainlynonsense

Companion Fic: Truth Will Out

Tender, We Lay Bound

“Darling, you were perfect,” He murmurs. He tilts your head upwards and you take in his expression, concerned and fond and proud. Of you - Tom’s proud of you, and that realisation does wonders in settling your nerves. “Come here, let me look after you.”

You flop back against the soft pillows and immediately begin to burrow under the covers, feeling sated and glowing in the aftermath of your orgasm. What you want right now is a hug and to fall asleep in Tom’s arms. Tom it seems has other ideas though and you poke your head out from under the duvet, still feeling hazy and dizzy and slightly giddy. You watch with mild curiosity and confusion as he roots around in his bedside table drawer for a few seconds before he finds what he’s looking for. He passes you a small vial, not dissimilar from the one that he’d given you earlier, except the vial you're holding now is full of something that looks like mercury.

It’s at this point that your euphoric daze begins to lift and the gravity of what you’ve just done begins to set in, burying itself deep in your stomach and churning uncomfortably. You down the potion and the last effects of the Veritaserum lifts - your tongue feels like your own again and you know that if Tom were to ask you anything right now, it would only be his scarily accurate ability to weed out untruths that would stop you from lying. Well, that and the fact that you don’t like lying to him anyway.

The vial drops from your hands and you stare blankly at the canopy of his bed, willing the array of emotions that tumble around inside of you to still and calm. It’s no use though, now that you’ve started thinking about it and the implications of what you’ve done - what you’ve said - you can’t stop. You reach for Tom because of course, you do, and when you find him, you don’t let go.

“I… Was that okay?” You ask, and of course, what you’re really asking is if you were okay, if he’s pleased with you. You feel him shift and then his arms are wrapping around your torso, rubbing gentle, reassuring strokes down your sides as he pulls you close. Despite the slow rising anxiety inside you, you smile when he presses his lips against your forehead, the heat and weight of his body, and the calm, confident strokes of his hands are reassuring in a way that is impossible to fully describe.

“Darling, you were perfect,” He murmurs. He tilts your head upwards and you take in his expression, concerned and fond and proud. Of you - Tom’s proud of you, and that realisation settles your nerves as nothing else can. “Come here, let me look after you.” You press yourself close to him, throwing a leg over his hip and nestling against his side, your fingers splayed across his chest as he brushes your hair, damp with sweat, away from your eyes.

You stay like that, slotted together in quiet, peaceful silence for a few minutes, as your breathing deepens and a drowsy contentedness begins to take root and grow inside of you, overshadowing the worry you had been feeling earlier. Eventually, he shifts and you cling to his side, entirely unwilling to let him leave, but all he does is reach over and take a glass of water from his bedside table which he presses into your hands. “Drink this, you’ll feel better, I promise.” He watches you intently as you take a couple of gulps and pass it back to him, and you’re struck by how caring he’s being. It’s not a side of Tom that many people get to see; he’s an enigma to most other people. Polite, charming, a little distant, and very intimidating when he wants to be, but with you, he’s softer. Especially in moments like this when all his energy is focused on your wellbeing and happiness.

“Did I push you too far?” He asks at last, and you almost don’t want to answer. Because you’re honestly not sure - you’ve never been very good at talking about your feelings, something that you know annoys Tom, who wants to know every part of you as intimately as he can. You’re certain that’s why he wanted to use the Veritaserum - to allow you to tell him your wants and desires without the culpability of free will to get in the way.

You mull over your words carefully before answering, “It was… a lot?” And then, because he stiffens slightly, you continue, “I… You know I’m not good at telling you what I want. It’s embarrassing and I get scared that you’ll—” Realise that you’re not the person he wants. Find someone better. Leave. “—judge me, I guess.” He makes a low noise of protest in the back of his throat and a soft chuckle escapes you at the sound. “I enjoyed it though? I guess I’m surprised at how much I enjoyed it.” Without the Veritaserum in your system to force you to be honest, this admission feels far more important than any of the things you’d told him earlier. Honesty for the sake of honesty is not something you’re all that familiar with and you can tell by the way that Tom smiles, soft and indulgent and maybe a little smug that his plan worked the way he wanted it to, that he’s appreciative of you’re telling him the truth.

He passes you the water again and you drink obediently. Now that you’re more aware of your surroundings, you notice the way he watches you, taking in your every move and action no matter how minor, his eyes flickering across your face as though he’s trying to catalogue and dissect every micro-expression. His attentiveness and care fans the warm flame of love and happiness that burn bright inside of you whenever you’re near him. His expression grows serious for a moment and he reaches out to run his thumb across your cheek, curving your jaw before he twines a lock of your hair around his fingers. “I would never have suggested it if I didn’t think you’d enjoy it.” He says. “You have so many delicious thoughts hidden from me. I want to know all of them - all of you - and I’d never judge you for your desires.” Sincerity laces his voice, and though you know that he is an excellent liar, capable of hoodwinking almost anyone, you also know that he won’t lie to you about this. “Everything you told me tonight, can really only endear me to you more.”

A faint flush creeps up your neck and along your cheeks at his words and you bury your face in his chest, feeling more than hearing his laughter. “How?” Because you’d been fairly explicit in describing all the ways you wanted Tom to ruin you for anyone else, and whilst he certainly doesn’t seem put off by your secrets, you can’t really imagine why.

“Because I want the same things,” He says this simple and without shame, which is entirely unsurprising because you're not sure that Tom has ever once felt shame for things he wants, he begins to pet the top of your head and the light pressure of his palm against your scalp grounds and reassures you. “When I say I want to know all of you, I mean that there is no part of you that could possibly repulse me, of that I’m quite certain.” He pauses, and then adds in a more serious tone, “That you trust me to take you over the brink and bring you back again is… Important to me.” You hum in response and the two of you fall into a slow and easy quiet for a few minutes before he reaches over and finds a book. “Would you like me to read to you?” At your mumbled yes please, he huffs a quiet breath of laughter. Him reading to you has become a routine of sorts, on the days when you’re too tired from school, or, in this case, sex, he’ll recite passages from whatever book he’s reading at the time until everything but his voice is drowned out.

You can’t exactly remember when it was that you realised that you love him, or when you realised that he loves you, but in moments like this, when the world fades and all there that is left is the two of you, you feel that spring of love and safety begin to overflow. It’s just as overwhelming as everything else that has happened tonight and you lay there, in Tom’s bed, in Tom’s arms, drifting through the afterglow of your pleasure, your worries and anxieties abated as his voice, soft and smooth, soothes you to sleep.

Companion Piece: Truth Will Out

[breakyeol]

Sweet, Sweet Relief

Pairing : chanyeol x reader

Summary: in which your gorgeous best friend knows just what to do to help you relax. 

Warnings: strong language, shy yeol towards the end, explicit sexual content; mild muscle kink?? i think??, dry humping for like two seconds, oral (f. receiving) aka pussy eating king back at it again, fingering, park chanyeol bc the man deserves a warning all his own 

Word Count: 3.3k

a/n; ah yes, best friends to lovers, my favorite cliche. i can’t stop writing for Chanyeol lately?? which really isn’t that out of the ordinary bc the man is literally my muse, but it seems a bit excessive at times yikes. but i also think it’s a good thing because i’m making some leeway with his prince au!!! yay!!! hopefully it won’t be too terribly long of a wait! until then, i hope these drabbles turned one shots will hold you over :) enjoy!

“You’re stressed out.”

It wasn’t a question.

You sighed, head shaking as you spared Chanyeol a glance from the corner of your eye.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re obviously not.” Was his abrupt response, concerned eyes dragging over the length of your tensed features, pausing on the visible lines above your brow and at the corners of your mouth.

He was right, of course. You weren’t alright. In all honesty, you hadn’t been alright for the past month. Your latest assignment was beating the absolute shit out of you, draining your mind and body of all its viable energy and leaving you an exhausted, stressed out disaster of a person.

Unfortunately, you knew that if you admitted it out loud to Chanyeol, he would not let you spend another second staring at your stupid computer screen. But you really had to get the project done by the end of the week or you were totally and royally screwed. And if he couldn’t make you feel better, Chanyeol would end up feeling like shit and that in turn would make you feel even more like shit than you already do and it would be an endless cycle of the two of you feeling like shit and does anybody really need that right now? You were already struggling enough without having an extra pouty, sulking best friend to tend to.

“Chanyeol—“ you began, running your palms over your face as you concocted a number of things to say to get him to stop worrying. But, he didn’t give you the chance.

“I can do it again.”

Your hands fell away from where they’d begun to press against your sore eyes, a look of confusion crossing your features.

“Huh?”

He swallowed, shifting where he sat beside you on the plush sofa. You followed his every movement through narrowed eyes, your confusion building as a shade of pink dusted over his cheeks.

“I–if you want me to... I can do it again.”

It took you a second. To put the pieces together. To remember. For the shock to settle over you. It took a second, but it was with a jolt that you realized what he was talking about. Warmth blossomed beneath your skin, but you forced your expression to fall into that of gentle chiding.

“Yeol. We agreed that it was a one time thing.”

The near rejection had him crumbling in on himself, the blush coating his cheeks intensifying tenfold as he fiddled with his fingers in his lap.

“I know but... I don’t mind. If it helps.” He suddenly straightened his back and you damn near jumped out of your skin as one of his hands fell across your thigh. He stared into your eyes, determination and sincerity burning in his own. “I want to help.”

“Yeah but you don’t have to help like th— ah!” You yelped in surprise as he suddenly pushed you and you fell backwards onto the couch with a soft ‘oof’. “What the h– ell…” your voice gave with an embarrassing crack as Chanyeol crawled on top of you, straddling your hips and caging your head between his arms. The sudden change of position caught you completely off guard, and you found yourself grappling hopelessly to try and get your mind back on track.

“Let me help you, y/n. You know I’m good at it.” His voice had dropped an octave, softening into a near whisper. Heat pooled in your cheek, and you blinked rapidly, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

Sure he was good —probably one of the best you’d ever had if you were being completely and totally honest—, but accidentally fucking your best friend while you are both wasted and horny beyond rationality is completely different than committing the act while sober and capable of discerning between right and wrong. And this— this had to be wrong.

Even if it felt so deliciously right.

Quickly ridding yourself of the thought, you pressed your palms against his chest with every intention to pushing him away, only to falter at the feeling of taut, bulging muscle beneath your fingertips that you were almost certain hadn’t been there the last time you’d laid your hands on him.

“Have you been working out?”

The question was so out of place in the situation that Chanyeol couldn’t rein in his laughter before it came bubbling from his chest in several loud, contagious eruptions.

“A little…” his lips curled into that familiar, boyish grin, “wanna see?”

Asking proved pointless as he sat up before you could conjure up an intelligible response and took hold of the bottom of his hoodie. In one soft motion, he pulled it over his head and tossed it aside without a care. You couldn’t help but gawk like a fool at the sight you were left with.

“W–wow.” You coughed out, blinking rapidly as you absorbed the expanse of the tanned, toned body on top of you. ‘A little’ had been an understatement. The last time you saw him shirtless, you can’t quite seem to recall there being such a defined six pack… or such impressive biceps… fuck.

“Wanna feel?”

His large hand was already wrapped around your wrist before the question escaped his lips, though this time he actually waited for your verbal approval before proceeding. Was it really the best idea to be feeling up your shirtless best friend after he’d just propositioned you? Probably not. Were you going to do it anyway? Abso-fucking-lutely.

Allowing him to guide your palm to his impressive pectorals, you almost moaned at the feeling of the hard, warm skin beneath your greedy fingertips. “Not bad, huh?” He asked, smug smirk twirling at the corners of his lips.

“In a word.” You offered mildly, far too absorbed in tracing the defined ridges of his abs to come up with one of your usual smart ass responses. The faintest of gasps fluttered from his lips as you caressed over a particularly sensitive area, and you didn’t miss the goosebumps that rose across his sun kissed skin— nor the pressure of something hard suddenly nudging up against your hip.

Swallowing thickly, you tipped your head up, making the deadly mistake of meeting his eyes. They were dark, darker than you’d ever seen them, and hooded, pretty eyelashes fluttering across his flushed cheeks with every lazy blink. Something dangerous yet tempting swirled within them, and you found yourself too overwhelmed to hold his intense gaze for much longer, quickly diverting your attention elsewhere.

But, just your luck, your eyes happened to land directly on the second most dangerous feature on his face— his lips. They were a dark, lovely shade of pink and deliciously swollen from the relentless assault of his teeth. The unexpected urge to tip you chin up and kiss him crashed over you with all the strength of a tsunami, heat flooding down between your thighs. Instinctively, you tried to close them, but the shape of his body prevented you from doing such. Unfortunately for your sanity, the pressure of your legs squeezing around his hips gave Chanyeol a different idea all together, a whole new way of absolutely wrecking you.

You almost— scratch that, you quite literally choked on air when he suddenly rolled his hips down, grinding against you. It was more experimental than anything else, testing the waters, seeing just how far you’d let him go. When you showed no signs of pushing him away and telling him to go fuck himself, he did it again, and this time, you really did moan out loud. Chanyeol shuddered at the sound, positively delighted that he’d been the one to pull such a delicate, sexy noise from you.

Encouraged and invigorated with newfound determination, he set a steady, confident rhythm with his hips, rolling them into yours in hard, deliberate, fluid motions.

“Let me make you feel good, y/n.”

A shiver wracked your body, and you found yourself utterly helpless against the deep rasping bass of (what you liked to identify as) his sex voice. It was at least an octave deeper than his regular voice, with a deliberate yet natural hoarseness that shot straight to your core. And no being on earth was immune to it, including you.

“Okay. Fuck, okay,” you caved, breathing heavy and uneven just from that juvenile dry humping alone, “but this is seriously the last time, Chanyeol. We can’t keep doing shit like t–this.”

A triumphant grin twisted onto his rose petal lips, “that’s alright. Just this once is all I need.”

Contrarily, you feared this little indiscretion would make you crave him all the more.

You sighed softly as his head fell into the juncture of your neck, painting hot, open mouthed kisses across the vulnerable skin. “No marks.” You huffed lightly when he resorted to sucking and nipping, and you could feel the pout that downturned the corners of his lips, but he made no objections nonetheless. A trembling breath flooded out of your chest as he descended your body, pushing up the loose fabric of your t-shirt to press searing kisses across your belly, all the way down to the elastic of your leggings. He glanced up at you, and somehow the angle made him look more attractive than he already was.

“Don’t be nervous.”

You shot him a lopsided grin, “who’s nervous?”

He didn’t look convinced, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into the skin of your hips. “If you don’t want to do this, that’s completely alright, just tell me and I’ll—”

“Don’t stop.” Chanyeol’s eyes widened at the sudden interruption, staring up at you with all the excitement and hope of a puppy getting a treat dangled in front of his nose. Sinking your teeth into your lower lip, you allowed your thighs to relax, falling open before him. “Please… don’t stop.”

He literally whined, though it quickly pitched into a rough, heavy groan somewhere deep in his chest. Long fingers slipped beneath the tight elastic of your leggings, making quick work of tugging them down the length of your legs. The air was cold against your bare skin, prickling goosebumps shooting up across your freshly shaved and lotion lathed legs (you silently thanked yourself for making yesterday one of your monthly self care days). The chill of the air was warded away by the warm press of his hands against the flesh of your thighs, grip tight enough to bruise.

“Fuck.” You hissed as he feathered his mouth over your clothed pussy, the heat of his breath rippling through your core in tiny shockwaves. Something dangerous glinted in his hooded eyes, and you let out a shaky moan when he flicked his tongue experimentally. The thin grey cotton darkened with a mixture of his saliva and your arousal, and he moaned quietly when your faint flavor hit his taste buds.

“Baby,” he purred softly, rolling his thumb over your clit and prodding the tip of his tongue where he estimated your entrance was. Your head tipped back against the cushion, mouth opening in a silent gasp. One of your hands reached down to weave through his thick black locks, while the other grabbed hold of the armrest behind your head. “Can I take them off?”

“Yes.” You breathed, removing your hand from his hair to brace it against the couch as you lifted your hips, allowing him to pull the black cotton down your legs. He tossed them aside haphazardly, a low groan rumbling in his throat at the sight of your bare core, wet and exposed in front of him. The first time you’d done this, it had been too dark and he’d been too drunk to really appreciate you. So, he’d take his time now. Really take his time.

“You’re so pretty.”

Warmth blossomed beneath your cheeks and you scoffed softly, trying your best to act like the compliment hadn’t made your heart flutter. He dragged his index slowly through your arousal, mouth falling open with a breath of amazement as he admired the glistening wetness that coated it. Chills rolled down your spine, an almost embarrassingly desperate whine resonating in your throat.

“Chan.” The urgency in your voice made him smile, and he looked up at you with eyes sparkling with mischief. You could only watch helplessly as he dragged his finger away from you, and slipped it between his lips, humming in delight.

Fuck. He was definitely trying to kill you.

Luckily for you, that one little taste proved to not be anywhere near enough for his insatiable appetite and, without warning, he pressed his face in close and began lapping eagerly at your pussy. Your mouth gaped, hips bucking up uncontrollably as his nose ground into your clit, his hot tongue licking hungrily at your entrance. Pleasure ignited in your veins like a wildfire, explosive and untamable and all consuming. It stretched through every part of your body, setting your skin ablaze in the wake of his touch.

“Oh my god, Chan—” he groaned against you in response, hooded eyes fluttering blissfully as he lost himself in the taste of your cunt. He was eating you out like his life depended on it, fierce and unrelenting, the sound of it wet and messy. You were moaning his name, thigh tightening spastically around his head, but his strong, calloused hands kept them apart, forcing them open so he could have his way. You almost lost it completely when he wrapped his lips around your clit and started sucking.

Strangely enough, you found that without the intoxication of alcohol in your system, everything he did had that much of a more intense effect on you. It was like every touch, every sensation was amplified by your mere sobriety; the heat of his mouth, the softness of his lips, the eagerness of his tongue, the pressure of his fingers. You felt all of it, every one of your senses going into overdrive.

And god it was so much. And yet, you still wanted more.

“Y– your fingers, Chan, your fingers, please—” you panted, brows knitting as you felt that familiar tightening in your gut. He quickly obeyed, sinking his long middle finger inside of you with such ease you almost felt embarrassed. But there was no room for such emotions when you were so enthralled in the hot rush of pleasure bursting like the most brilliant of firecrackers in your veins.

A second finger was swift to join the first, stretching you out so deliciously that your toes curled. With his free hand, he tugged at your knee, bringing it up to rest over his shoulder. The new angle forced your hips off of the plush cushion below, his skilled fingers burying themselves deeper, pillowy lips sucking harder. It was over the second his digits curled, stroking up against that perfect little spot that had white hot electricity crackling in your blood.

Your orgasm hit you hard and fast. It was hot and overwhelming, the persistent, eager pressure of his mouth and hands drawing it out as long as it could possibly go. He dragged it out until you were limp and trembling beneath him, moaning and whining out broken fragments of his name, too lost in the bliss inducing thralls of your high to feel even the slightest hint of shame.

His ministrations seemed to grow even fiercer through your orgasm, his ravenous moans increasing in volume right alongside yours. He only pulled away when he knew you wouldn’t be able to withstand anymore, resorting to pressing soothing kisses and murmuring breathless praises against the soft, trembling skin of your thighs.

“Fuck you, Chanyeol.” You laughed breathlessly, tossing an arm over your eyes.

“Fuck me? Fuck you, I almost busted in my pants when you came. That was so fucking hot.” He groaned, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip as he crawled back on top of you, caging your head between his arms. You chuckled, warmth spreading through your cheeks. A sweet smile upturned the corners of his mouth. “Did it help?”

The question was less than a breath against your lips, so soft you had to strain your ears to hear it. You swallowed, gaze momentarily dropping to his mouth before returning to his eyes, only to find that they’d honed in on your lips.

“It helped. You helped.”

He inhaled shakily, tongue slipping out to trace the seam of his bottom lip. “Can I help a little more?” He asked, and you felt his bangs feather over your forehead as his head lowered. Hot breath rushed over your mouth. Instead of answering, you reached up and cupped his face, pulling him into a kiss. It was short, shy, sweet. Such a stark contrast to the fierce hunger he’d displayed going down on you not two minutes ago that you couldn’t help the giggles of amusement that came bubbling from your chest. He broke away from you with a bashful smile, gently resting his forehead against yours.

“You suck.” He mumbled, pouting childishly.

“I’m pretty sure you’re the only one that’s done any sucking.” You teased.

“Who am I to argue with the facts?” He sighed dramatically, feigning defeat.

You laughed loudly, an obnoxious cackle that had to be one of the most unattractive sounds you’d ever made, but it was abruptly cut off when he reattached his mouth to yours. You hummed contently, carding your fingers through the short hairs on the back of his neck. The taste of you lingered on his tongue, and he painted the inside of your mouth with it. Warmth spread through your chest, your heart picking up speed as you melted into his kiss, melted into the warmth that the presence of his body provided you with.

“I lied.”

Your eyes blinked open, surprised by the sudden admission. “Huh?”

The look on his face stirred to life a strange, but vaguely familiar emotion in the depth of your chest. A crimson blush darkened his cheeks and his gaze shied away from yours. For a moment, you were reminded of the little, goofy looking boy that shyly handed you a heart shaped box of caramel chocolates on Valentine’s Day all the way back when you were thirteen. He had the same big sweet eyes, the same crimson cheeks, the same large pink tipped ears.

“I said that just this once is enough...” he swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing as he nibbled nervously on the corner of his lip, “but it isn’t. It isn’t enough.”

“What do you mean?”

He cupped the side of your face, thumb tracing the line of your lip. “I want you. I- I want to be more to you— to be more to you than just a friend.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, offering him a sly smirk. “Are you… confessing to me, Park Chanyeol?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

He smiled down at you bashfully. “If you say yes.”

“Hmm…” you squinted your eyes and pursed your lips as if you needed to think it over. But you had a feeling that a moment like this was long past due, so you resisted the urge to draw it out and torture him, opting to give him a more straight forward answer to put his racing heart at ease. “Yes.”

“Thank god.” He groaned happily, smooshing your face between his massive palms and tugging you into a deep, but playful kiss that made your skin tingle. You giggled noisily against his lips, draping your arms over his neck to keep him close. “Does this mean I get to eat you out like that whenever I want?”

“Oh, without a doubt,” you snickered as he pumped his fist, hissing out an eager ‘yes’. You grabbed his chin between your thumb and forefinger, drawing his attention back to you. “And next time...” you tipped your head up to nip at the sensitive lobe of his ear, letting a downright wicked grin curl across your lips, “I’ll gladly return to favor.”

[final-fantasy-imagines]

hi! your request are open! yay! may I please ask for a drabble for rufus x fem! (maybe they're not a couple but there's some chemistry you know) reader where none of the turks even remembered his birthday (he prefers to stay quiet about it anyways) but reader drops by with a cake and pressies and he finds it pretty sweet

Hey there! Thank you for your request, this was such a cute idea and I had so much fun writing it. I hope you like what I came up with as well. :) Have fun reading and stay safe!

Happy Birthday, boss – Rufus Shinra x fem!reader

With a quiet sigh, Rufus turned the page of the contract his secretary had brought him a few hours ago. He had actually planned to leave work a bit earlier today but before he could even think about going home, he needed to finish his paperwork, including this contract, and he was already running out of steam.

Usually, Rufus didn’t mind working overtime. There was no one waiting for him at home, so it really wasn’t a big deal when he decided to spend more time in his office. But today, things were a bit different and he would have loved to go home early – not because it was his birthday but because he was tired and desperately needed some rest.

He didn’t care about his birthday at all; in fact, he hadn’t even told anyone about it. Most of his employees had no idea that it was his birthday, not even the turks who were closest to him. Rufus didn’t mind that though; he preferred to spend his birthday like any other day anyway. However, he definitely would have liked to finish the paperwork the next day, after getting a few hours of sleep.

Tiredly, he rubbed his face. It would take him maybe two or three more hours to get the work done but after that, nothing and no one would be able to stop him from going to sleep as soon as he got home.

Or, so he thought.

A quiet knock on his office door snapped him out of his thoughts maybe half an hour later. Rufus looked up, his brows slightly furrowed as he wondered who would come to his office that late. His secretary had left an hour ago, and he had postponed the meeting with Tseng until tomorrow, so it wasn’t likely that it was him.

“Come in,” he finally said.

“Hey boss,” a familiar voice replied, and for the first time on this day, an honest smile flashed over his face. “(Y/N),” he said. “What a pleasant surprise.”

You beamed at him. “I know! But I really should scold you for being here at this time of the day. It’s your birthday, you should be celebrating instead of working until midnight, like you usually do.”

“What are you talking about?” Rufus furrowed his brow. He had never told you about his birthday but apparently, you knew it anyway. And you seemed to be pretty happy about it, judging by the mixture of excitement and utter satisfaction on your face.

“Oh, come on,” you said and, still smiling, rolled your eyes. “You’re always trying to pretend that your birthday is nothing special but I’m sure deep down you wish for some general attention. And maybe a cake, too.”

You paused for a moment, examining the expression in his eyes and when you found nothing but the slightest bit of confusion, you added, “You always spend your birthday alone. That’s why I thought I- well, thanks to me, you won’t be alone this year.”

With that, you turned around and disappeared into his secretary’s office. A few moments later, you returned with a giant bag over your right shoulder and a tray that was shaking considerably because you were trying to balance it on your left forearm.

Rufus raised his eyebrows. “Should I ask what you’re doing?”

Carefully, you placed the tray on his desk, mindful of the probably quite important papers in front of your boss. “Don’t be silly,” you said and looked down at the tray. “That’s a birthday cake. And here,” you took the bag off your shoulder, “are your presents. I couldn’t decide what I wanted to buy, so I decided to get you more than one.”

Rufus didn’t reply anything. His eyes were glued on the cake and the presents you were piling up right next to the tray, and for a few seconds, he felt a lump in his throat. You were right; he usually spent his birthday alone and while he didn’t mind it too much, he had to admit that this was nice too.

He cleared his throat but his voice was still shaking ever so slightly when he finally said, “Thank you, (Y/N).”

You smiled as you handed him one of the presents. “Happy Birthday, boss.”

[septemberrie]

Hi! I hope you don't mind me using flattery to get you to post the next chapter of It was just red, but I'm dying here lol I'm not good with reviews (and writing in english is not one of my strengths) but I just wanted to say that you're one of my favorite authors in the fandom, the first fic of yours I read was PONR, I was just looking for farah fics, preferably silrah, I was ready to skip the parts that didn't include her to be honest (it was late and I just wanted some farah content) but

ended up reading the whole thing in one night (it was almost finished at the time) and even tho I didn't care much for the teens when watching the show, I loved every chapter of your fic. I've read and reread almost everything you wrote for the show (yes, even if it didn't feature farah) ;) I think you understand the characters really well and the relationships between them. I particularly love your saul, farah and andreas (luna too). The scenes with the golden trio were my favorites on the

show but farah was the one character that stood out to me; your fics made me take a closer look at other characters, especially saul. I can't explain it but the way you write makes me so engaged with characters and even ships like rivusa, saul/andreas that I wasn't interested in before (I still don't ship them but I like exploring them in your fics, if that makes sense). Anyway, IWJR is probably my favorite fic right now, the characters and their dynamics, the flashbacks, present day, your

writing style, every bit of it, so hopefully you can update soon :D Stay safe!

Well knock me down with a feather, this message is just. Wow. I am so exceedingly grateful for this, you have no idea. Thank you so much for the praise of "Red" and PoNR and the rest of my stuff; it's such a high compliment as a writer to hear that readers are invested in pairings they don't ship in canon but like reading in my fics. I really can't ask for more and I'm so glad you took a chance on my works!

GEEZ okay I'm sorry it's taken me half a business day to respond but I just... this message is so kind. Thank you. After I watched the show I couldn't NOT write about the humungous gaps in the story, in Rivusa but also the golden trio/Andreas/Luna because ??? It's such a fun sandbox. I wrote for myself initially but found an amazing community to share it with and also amazing anons like yourself and that makes it so, so, SO much better to be able to talk and be talked to people about this. So. Thank you.

Re: IWJR- I'll be real, I burned myself out writing IWJR as quickly as I did, plus a couple of other things all posted in December and earlier this month, so I am having a bit of a mental block when it comes to putting one word in front of the other right now. I have 90% the beats of the remainder of the story plotted out, I just know it's going to be a bit of an uphill climb until it's ready to keep posting. The next part in particular is on the heavier side so I want the rest of it to be in tip-top shape and ready to go so I don't leave readers hanging on some dark stuff.

BUT it really means a lot that you like it and thank you so so much for pointing out the bits in particular that grabbed you. It goes so far to helping my motiviation, I promise I haven't abandoned it! To give a realistic timeline I am hoping to be done with it at the end of February (got a big cross-country move coming up, yay me). I hope you'll stay patient with me and enjoy the remainder as I finish up whumping Saul and let the poor man alone to be with his family. :) Hope you have a wonderful weekend anon and thank you again.

[shintorikhazumi]

“Diana.”

A/N: To be honest, I had wanted this to be a Diana-centric fic, from Diana’s perspective. I struggled to find a concept, and had a little help from a friend who sent me a random generator. (Thanks, Kate :>) And when I thought I’d just choose from a randomly generated idea, I came across this video on youtube which was actually a compilation of a tiktok series of the story of two neighbors. Of course, I changed bits of it, and obv the end so if you think you know what the source vid is, dw. I won’t hurt y’all like that ;-; And I’ll just link it at the bottom so no plot spoilers for those who don’t know what it is. Eyyyy.

This fic has a few song recs for y’all to listen to if you haven’t heard them already, lol. ;)

I had been looking for something... “emotional” for Diana’s bday fic. And I think... this works. At least for me, it does.  It’s not from Diana’s perspective, but... I think this works. So without further ado, Happy birthday Diana and...

oh, thank you to @tracedinairlwa​ for some help with the music :> that y’all will see later in the fic :’>. Without further ado,

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

 It all started with a sunset and a few familiar notes from a piano.

No, it isn’t Akko’s piano. Her piano has been sitting in a corner of her room, collecting dust- untouched for months. And that is just the thing. Unless her piano has somehow become cursed and has decided to ghostly play on its own, then there had to be some other source.

The source of that gentle sound, Akko eventually pinpoints, is her apartment wall- or more accurately, what lies beyond that separator.

As she sits on her couch, admiring the expressive tones, her mind has decided that it wants to capture this special moment, and keep it stored lest she never experiences it again.

Making a quick dash for her bedroom, she opens her bedside drawer and fishes for her old camera from her university days in film club, back when she was an actual student of the Arts and all that creative jazz. She has tried to maintain it, but being under lockdown allows her few chances of seeing the outside world, and the few corners of her home don’t exactly spark ‘inspiration’ for any project.

Dusting the device off gently, she takes it back to the living room, placing it on her coffee table facing herself. She clicks the record button, thinking of making an introduction; but she quickly abandons that idea as she realizes it may take away from the sounds she wants to ring more apparent on tape.

Maybe she can just edit a few captions later on her laptop. Yes. That sounds good.

So she sits.

And the notes kept playing.

 //

[Video Diary(?) Diary? Is this a Diary? Day... Day 1. I hope it’s only Day 1. I hope there’s a day 2. And a three... and a five.

So anyway, Akko here. And uh... I got a new neighbor, I think. He/she plays the piano. I do too (kinda. Haven’t done that in a while, hehe).

I don’t know why I recorded this... this must seem like I’m being a creep, but... They just... played Chariot’s Melancholy from my favorite show and... it felt sadder than usual. The sound felt sorrowful. I don’t know...

I’m... moved.]

//-//-//-//-//

She does not know what compels her today, to slip that message under her neighbors door; but before she can even think about her actions, they’d already been done.

A simple, “can you please play ‘Ease My Mind’ by Ben Platt, maybe?” haphazardly scrawled on a piece of notebook paper is delivered with the anxious feelings of an interaction-craving Akko, starved of a social life since all this pandemic misfortune began.

She is sure she no longer knows how to string a proper introduction together after nearly a year of being by her lonesome.

This is about to change however. Starting today.

Maybe.

She counts down the hours ‘til sunset.

//

[Day 2! Yey! So uh... I kind of... went on the attack- no! I didn’t attack anyone! I just... You know how I have a new neighbor that plays the piano? I sent that neighbor a note.

And you might think that’s all fine and cute, but... I’ve never even met my neighbor... but...

I love his/her music. So much.

And I told them. On the note, of course. Duh, Akko.

I asked them to play ease my mind and... they did.

As you can hear in the video... I guess it was a yes. :>

 ...They eased my mind...

-Akko]

 //-//-//-//-//

She wants to try something today.

She has been thinking about it the past few days after continually being blessed with such beautiful music. Music that had attracted her like moth to a flame. The piano’s daily sunset singing compels her to come reunite with her own.

She had wiped it clean earlier in the morning and now sits awkwardly on the bench, punching down a random note here and there.

What a nostalgic tone.

The C major scale then the G. She plays it. A few arpeggios to warm up. F sharp major doesn’t sound too good, with her fingers tangling up as she traverses the scale. What was the fingering supposed to be like again? Right. Start with the fourth and second finger on the left and right hand respectively.

That sounds much better.

She hums a few tunes, choosing from a playlist arranged in her mind. She settles on something gentle and sweet. A Yiruma song. Just to get the feeling back in her hands.

A river flows as notes along the plain that is her silent room, adorning the quiet flourishes and curves, bringing color to her atmosphere.

She misses this. This tingle in her heart as music fills up her entire soul, not allowing her to think of anything else but this exact moment.

Yes.

This... This is nice.

And Akko plays until the sunset comes.

She can’t wait for it to come.

//

[Day 6. I... I haven’t played the piano in a while, and I’m a little rusty. But brave ol’ Akko here thought it’d be great to ask for a duet from the virtuoso across the drywall, haha. I left a note...

And I though we had something going. I was excited... I said that they could play once I stopped my part, but... did they forget? Or I guess they didn’t hear me.  

It’s okay... I can try again tomorrow.

I hope. Tomorrow...

-This has been Akko.]

//-//-//-//-//

She excitedly videos this weekend ‘meet-up’.

Akko still doesn’t know who lives across the wall, but she sure knows his or her favorite songs by now, hearing it daily at the same sunset hours.

She admires the music, as usual, but this time it’s different. This time, they had sent her a note. An apology for missing out last time.

They request a duet with her, to make up for it. Of course, Akko accepts. And now she starts it off, praying and hoping her sound is heard through the barrier that keeps their music apart.

She ends her part of the duet, waiting in the most agonizing few seconds of silence. She briefly worries that her neighbor had forgotten their proposition; or maybe they couldn’t hear her once more.

It’s fine, she thinks... It’s okay. She scratches her cheek, wondering if she should hold on until next time again-

There it is. That beautiful sound, so personal to the one living across the wall. A sound of emotion that could only belong to whoever it was living there.

Akko had never heard anyone else play the way her neighbor did.

She laughs, she feels herself tear up a little. It hurts so sweet in her chest. It’s a fizzy, bubbling excitement. It’s a stretched-out joy across her cheeks.

A success!

A beautiful one, indeed.

//

[Day 8: Akko here. My wish came true. I... got to play with my neighbor! Yay!

... Maybe I should go meet them now...]

//-//-//-//-//

They do it again.

Akko excitedly bounces in her warmed piano seat, listening to her neighbor go first this time around. She listens intently. Once the wall music stops, she starts. This was their agreement, their deal.

The river’s flow stills a moment, and that’s Akko’s cue to pick up the current’s pace once more.

She plays with shy gusto, caressing the keys in a way that shows how she’s fallen in love again. With the piano? With music? Yes. With- ...

Love, huh. It’s such perfect timing too.

Today is Valentine’s day.

Akko doesn’t know whether or not her neighbor has anyone special in her life like that, but if they share the same situation, all alone in their apartments, locked in by the pandemic, she just wants them to know she receives the message their music is trying to get across to one another.

Her heart feels it. It translates it.

It cherishes it.

//

[Day 13.

Dear Neighbor,

I just... wanted to share the words we’ve exchanged, not through any verbal means, but through the sounds that reverberate against the very foundations of our connected homes. Thank you for this message.

I know that music is... our way of simply saying

“I don’t know who you are ... But I’m here. You’re not Alone.” This is for you too.

-Sincerely, Akko.]

//-//-//-//-//

It is a challenge.

For Akko or for her neighbor, she doesn’t know. What she does know is that tomorrow is going to be the big day! She’s finally going to see the face behind the songs that have embraced her tenderly throughout the lonely struggle she hadn’t realized had weighed down on her so heavily.

The interactions they’ve had, the conversations, they brighten up her everyday, and Akko is somewhat afraid she’s gotten attached; addicted- if you will- to this unique bond she’s formed with another she has never actually met.

Her mind strays from her current piece, body autopiloting a song called, “Mind Conductor” that both of them just so happen to like, apparently. Another fact that makes Akko feel all giddy as they seem to share a taste in other media outside of music.

She feels herself vibrate with nerves and excitement.

It’s tomorrow. Tomorrow is the day.

//

[We’re Finally Meeting.

Tomorrow.]

//-//-//-//-//

Akko tells a story.

She’s met her neighbor, not knowing what to expect. Despite having a lack of said expectations, she could confidently say it was better than anything she could have anticipated.

She rolls up the sleeves of her flannel shirt, readying herself to write the melodious response to the already playing tune in the background of her video.

Though she tries to listen intently, waiting for her turn, she is distracted. She knows she is.

After meeting someone as wonderful as her neighbor.

Blonde hair and blue eyes invade her recall, flashes of a soft smile and calm voice playing over and over in her head.

Her neighbor is the most gorgeous woman she’s ever met. Breath-taking. Akko says this with utmost objectivity as her lungs struggle to function after first meeting the lady.

Hailing from Scotland, the twenty-five-year-old had introduced herself to Akko. They exchanged a few pleasantries, some questions and information.

Akko had asked how she’d never known she had such a talented neighbor, to which the response was an admission from the woman that she had just moved in and was only staying in the adjacent apartment temporarily while awaiting for a relative to come for her after selling their old house back in their hometown.

Her mother... rests. Having had a certain heart disease for a while, her immune system had proven very susceptible to the pandemic reaper that had claimed her life for its tallied count. She never knew her father, it seemed.

Akko’s heart breaks as she remembers these things.

“All I have left is the piano.”

That’s what she’d said to her earlier.

Akko’s fingers glide across the keys, playing her role in this drama for two.

“I play at sunset because my mother came home at that time from work... she was always stressed.

...I wanted to be of help to her. I was happy she loved it. As I grew up, it became a habit.”

Akko fumbles with a few keys, making a slight mistake. She hopes her neighbor can forgive her for being so distracted at the moment, and right after they’d finally met too.

“Thank you, Miss-”

“Akko is fine.”

“Thank you, Akko. You’re playing has, in truth, kept me motivated and less lonely.”

Akko remembers having promised before their parting to their respective units that she would keep playing with her until she moves out.

Akko blushes upon remembering the stunning smile she was offered afterwards.

Her neighbor had been camera shy and so Akko didn’t get the opportunity for a picture. She hopes for the best in the future. She’ll try again if ever the lovely lady was ready.

They have time, anyway.

They do.

//

[Day 20, folks! Akko here, writing another video caption entry, Diary, thing... haha. The song playing right now in the video is gorgeous right? It’s... her favorite song. It’s called, ‘In case you don’t live forever’. She said it keeps her loser to her mother. It keeps her in her heart.

She plays so beautifully...

She’s just as beautiful. She’s amazing.

She’s... a special soul.

I feel goosebumps.

I’m glad. For her. Her music doesn’t sound as sorrowful as when I first heard it. It’s still every bit as emotional, though. I could cry. Really, I could...

...I’m so happy she’s healing.

It’s a process, but... I’ll be here. I’ll be here for her.

I’ll be here for you,

“Diana.”]

//-//-//-//-//

There are times when Akko thinks she’d like to get to know her neighbor more, a little more chatting, a few more minutes talking. 

However, it always seems as though there’s this unspoken rule. This... ‘don’t-get-too-close’, ‘don’t-ask-more-than-you-should’. It’s like a boundary that keeps Akko from learning more, discovering more.

Neither of them purposely meet-up outside their closed doors either, this lockdown and what-not all up in their face.

They see each other around the building sometimes, wave a hand, shake a plastic bag of groceries, but building protocols don’t really allow loitering in the halls, and Akko feels she’d be crossing a line in inviting the girl over, and she doesn’t see herself getting invited instead either.

Despite this longing, she isn’t all too dissatisfied with the current standing of their relationship. Peculiar as it may be, she rather likes this.

A relationship built on a communication based on raw emotion delivered through their music.

If Akko ponders it deeply, it’s quite an intimate relationship, what they have. Thoughts and feelings in their purest form- unspoken, but not hidden.

She might not know too much about Diana. She may not know much of her past, or even her present, or general objective facts about the woman.

But what Akko does feel she knows is Diana’s heart. 

And Akko knows its utterly beautiful.

//-//-//-//-//

Moonlight Sonata has never felt so sad to her; its sounds reflecting something they both felt, Akko believed.

Akko feels her heart clench and ache in her chest, her face a little hot and her palms sweating.

Only a week left before the clock strikes twelve and the magic is broken.

Diana is finally moving out.

It is... their final duet.

How unfortunate.

Akko sighs, thinking about the pain she’ll feel later as she edits this portion of the video. Compared to the happy tones and build ups of all the others, this... is something she doesn’t know if she can do.

Maybe she can ask Amanda for a favor this time around?

She’s actually shown some of her closest friends her video logs, and they all had sent kind messages to Akko’s new friend, who in turn, felt worlds and worlds happier.

Akko feels happy as well.

Diana’s joy is contagious. It shows through her expressive music that gives away the feelings her face doesn’t show.

Speaking of Diana’s face... she still hasn’t agreed on showing her face on camera. Akko supposes it’s still too early. Maybe before she leaves? Oh Akko hopes so. She wants to have something to look at physically to remember Diana by. Not that she’d ever forget.

Still, a little memory help never hurt anyone.

Diana’s turn comes in smoothly through the wall, Akko unable to keep her smile from forming.

She’s going to miss this. The playing; the sometimes awkward, but unconventionally amazing duets; the letters shoved underneath door; and the very rare hallway meet-up where Akko can only smile at Diana as they exchange a literal word or two.

Akko reminisces.

The past... two months now, have been amazing. Incredible. Life-changing. Akko wonders what the future has in store for them both after they part.

Maybe they could meet again. Someday. Somehow. Somewhere.

Akko knows she’ll keep playing still. At the same time, on a weekend, as the sunsets. For Diana. She’s promised she’ll keep making the video logs. She’ll send them over to her so that they can still keep this music alive in some way.

//-//-//-//-//

[Day 62.

Hi, Diana. It’s me, Akko.

I... wrote you a song...? Or well, I started to... I’m not quite done yet, hihi. Got a little too ambitious and all... thought I could add some other instruments besides our- the piano... aha..haha...

When you first told me your story, I started picturing it out. A life dyed with all the colors of the spectrum. From the vivids to the grays, it was such a lovely imagery in my minds eye. A painting I could not get out of my head.

And so this song is... yeah. That.

A story.

A story about this wonderful twenty-five-year-old woman who so happened to move next door to this uninspired artist. She’d lost her mother to a stupid virus, and she’d never known her father. Her house got sold, and she had only one distant relative she knew of left.

She spends her days along in a box of white walls and empty silence. That is, until the sun decides to rest for the day, and it sends its golden rays of energy to the girl and to her piano that she thought to be her sole companion in this tragedy.

She plays her favorite songs, filling the emptiness with her own emotions; making the intangible manifest itself and cause a dumb girl next door to one day slip a scratch of paper underneath her door, asking for a song.

A note with a request... and with a message that she’d heard her feelings- her loneliness; and that she’d never let her be alone anymore.

And that’s how they became friends, huh, Diana?

Two pianos, Two people, and a wall that keeps them apart.

They didn’t know who was playing on the other side. But did it matter?

In this dreary, blackened time of the world,

‘You can be the light of somebody else’ darkness, so keep shining.’.

Dear Diana,

In case my playing isn’t as emotionally expressive as yours, I hope you at least know this now. Through this video.

That you were, and are... my light.

-Akko.

P.S. I hope I finish the song and give it to you before you leave.]

//-//-//-//-//

 She feels herself hyperventilating, her vision bleary. She can barely stand. She feels like vomiting, and dying, and screaming all at once.

Her anxieties run rampant all over the room.

If this keeps up, she may as well hurt herself beyond help.

She trudges over to the one thing that could ground her at the moment.

The piano.

Her hands are shaky as they do multiple attempts to turn on the keyboard, hitting the wrong buttons and turning the volume knob up too loud that when Akko accidentally leans against the keyboard, hand pressing down on many keys, the sound almost blows up her eardrums.

She curses, smashing a hand against those same keys, the cluster of notes echoing through her apartment walls.

“aaaaAAAAGGHHHHHHHH!!!!”

She allows the scream to tear out of her throat; emotions, wild horses finally released into the open.

“AGH! AGGHHHH!!! RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH”

She falls face first onto the keys, now ignoring the loudness of their noise, momentarily thinking it would be better to allow her ears to bleed out so she’d never hear a thing again.

She wants something, anything, to drown out the pain she feels right now.

...

She sobs against the keys, head lifting as she apologizes to her piano, wiping off the tears that are quickly replaced by fresh ones.

Akko gives up and plays a note. Then two.

Then she’s playing ‘you’ll be in my heart’ and she’s crying more.

She lets herself cry as she plays.

Today, she was supposed to see Diana off. She had left a final note the day before yesterday, asking if she could do so. Help Diana carry her things, maybe swap numbers, and just... maybe keep this connection going for years to come.

Last night, she’d said good night at Diana’s door.

The girl gave her the sweetest smile, an almost unnoticeable blush on her features.

Oh, but Akko noticed anyway.

Of course, she would. With how shamelessly she stared at Diana at that moment.

Diana laughed, stepping closer and patted Akko on the cheek- kissed her there- before turning about to shut the door, along with the lights Akko saw go off from underneath it.

She was excited for the morning.

But when morning came... Diana was gone.

Akko had been thrown into confusion and a frantic state that she’d bolted all around, searching for signs or a left behind message.

Nothing.

She had then run down to ask the land lady, and that’s where she’d found out.

The heart disease Diana’s mother had was hereditary.

Diana had had an attack, and with an emergency alerting device, she’d been able to contact her only family, and had been taken to the hospital.

That was good.

That gave Akko relief and joy.

...so why is she despairing now?

...She didn’t know.

No, not the reason for her despair. She knows that.

The reason she was in this state is because she didn’t know.

She didn’t know what had happened.

She didn’t know Diana had suddenly disappeared in the middle of the night.

She didn’t know where she was, or where whoever took her.

She didn’t know that Diana had that heart disease too.

She didn’t know because she never got to ask.

She never got to learn more, know more.

... Did she not know Diana then?

Her mind taunts her, her heart hurts her.

She doesn’t know a lot about Diana. Not as much as she thinks.

That’s what they tell her.

For all the emotions they’d exchanged through music, that was the extent of it. Had Akko been too presumptuous in thinking she’d known Diana so deeply because of what they’d shared?

When in reality she may as well be a random stranger playing her show tunes and disturbing her neighbors.

Akko almost believes it.

But no... no. She can’t do that. She can’t assume those things. Not about their connection. Not about Diana.

Because Diana had told her once upon a song that she- that Akko had been her light. Her comfort. Akko believes in Diana. So she believes these feelings as well.

Yet these feelings of her own were so conflicting, so daunting. They battle in her mind, questioning and justifying every little thing. All things relating to Diana. Diana and... Diana.

Akko coughs out a few more sobs, throat incredibly dry.

She stops playing for a moment, dragging herself to the kitchen for a glass of water.

Then she goes back to the piano.

She... doesn’t feel like playing again.

What should she play anyway?

What song does she want to play? What song... Song... Song... Diana... What was Diana’s favorite song?

Diana? Song? A song for Diana? A song about-

Akko falls off her piano bench as she scrambles for her coffee table, sighing in relief as the papers for her composition are still there.

With shaky hands, she takes the sheets and a pencil and brings them over to the piano.

And she writes a few notes, then a few bars.

Diana.

Diana.

Who is Diana.

What does Akko not know about her. Her other struggles? Her sickness? Her trials and her fears? Her past?

That melody... sounded too sad for a parting gift. Akko doesn’t want Diana to feel more sorrow when she moves out...

Then....

What does Akko know? About Diana?

“Diana is...”

Expressive, emotional.

Diana is intelligent, an intellectual.

Diana is sincere and sweet.

Diana is talented and tasteful in music.

Diana is... her neighbor, her... new friend,

....Akko’s... what?

What was she to Akko?

“You are my light.”

-Akko ends up writing as a title.

But that’s a little too embarrassing to give to someone who was just your neighbor and a new friend... right?

And maybe it didn’t exactly represent the whole thing Akko had written.

So she erases it, biting her pencil as she tries to come up with a new name, a new caption for this creation.

What could it be. That describes Diana in her entirety; her life, her struggles, her joys.

Who is she? Who is Akko’s neighbor?

Akko scratches her head in frustration, wracking her brains even more.

With a sigh, she replies to herself aloud, the simplest, somewhat plain, and stupidly obvious answer.

“Well, she’s Diana.”

And it clicks.

That she is.

She is Diana.

And Akko throws on a jacket, a mask, and some shoes and thinks no more.

//-//-//-//-//

[Dear Diana,

I know very little about you

But you’ve changed my life.

Really you have.

You gave me back my passion, and a little bit more of that even. Maybe aroused a new passion within me.

I’d say, “You’ll be in my heart”, but that sounds too much of a farewell, to be honest.

And I’d rather not say goodbye just yet.

Not like this.

Music... Is a powerful thing. Despite the rampaging emotions I’d felt as I found out what had happened to you today, I- I kept playing. It grounded me. It helped me.

Diana, you once told me I was your light.

And you know I’ve told you already. That you’ve been MINE.

Diana. This video might look incredibly shaky and chaotic.

But please forgive me for that, and know that it is because I’m running with all my might to find out where you are. I got a hint for the hospital you might have been taken too.

It kinda seems like I’m a stalker now, huh?

I’m sorry. I just... I-

I can’t say goodbye to you....

Not just yet...

I still... have a song for you.

So... wait for me?”]

//-//-//-//-//

Eyes blink, bright white melting into color. They scan the room, looking for hints to identify her location.

Her body aches, her chest hurts. Her throat is parched. Her head is throbbing.

What is that annoying beeping sound-

Ah. Of course.

The hospital.

Again.

She hates it. She hates the smell of antiseptic and sterile sheets. She hates the taste of badly prepared hospital meals, and too-dry food.

The water has this strange quality to it when you’re in the hospital.

She knows this well.

She hates that she does.

She sighs, sinking into her pillows. At least those are comfortable.

Ugh.

What bad timing, really. For an attack.

She was supposed to move out today. She was supposed to meet with her aunt- who actually has probably met up with her by now, seeing as Diana is in a hospital and her usual alert device seems to be charging within reach beside her. Also she sees Daryl’s purse on the seat.

Maybe the woman had gone out temporarily for something important.

That was fine.

It just meant Diana was left alone again. If only for a short while.

...Alone, huh.

These past two months, she hadn’t been that.

All because of one girl, one Atsuko Kagari that she’d met by chance through a piano and through a wall. The sound quite literally carrying over through a wall.

Diana can’t believe she used to be so skeptical of thin-walled living spaces, wondering how people kept their privacy.

Now, however, she feels blessed that that was the case.

Else she’d never have met... her light.

That’s right.

When everything, her vision, her hopes, her heart had steadily been dying out, through her dim came a glow. That glow was the connection she’d found through her neighbor across a wall.

It had surprised her the first time she realized someone was playing alongside her one sunset session, months ago. She would have thought it creepy had the person’s music been any less captivating.

There were just so many colors in the music, there was just so much warmth. It sounded a little rough, a few hinges rusty at first; but it came along after a few pseudo duets, and then Diana had found these duets to be a staple in her life.

Then she met Akko for the first time, and more warmth and color came into her life.

Diana found herself enjoying the musical conversations they had, intrigued by thoughts that they were actually able to communicate in that way and understand one another to that extent, no words attached.

And she enjoyed these nonverbal bonding moments.

But when they actually wrote to one another, or when they’d have their short greetings when they’d meet up in the hall, Diana found herself wanting to draw even closer, to get to know Akko even more.

And when Akko asked if she could do the same, Diana had found it so easy to open up.

She’d loved to know even more about the girl.

But how would she do it now?

They didn’t have the chance to exchange numbers, and Diana was probably moving as soon as she left the hospital. Her things were already being shipped to her new home, after all. There wasn’t much reason to return to her apartment, really.

“Idiot. Stupid, Diana. Not asking her sooner. What are you supposed to do no-”

Two knocks on her door.

It doesn’t open right away. It doesn’t seem to open at all.

Diana deduces it’s not a doctor or nurse then. And it might not be Daryl either because the woman would have already called the attending nurse to open the door already.

So then, who could it be?

Diana tries not to let her mind wander and get her hopes up, because there is no way- just no way- it’s who she hopes it will be.

The door opens, and her breath is unexpectedly bated- and she releases it, seeing it’s just the janitor.

Trying not to let disappointment leak into her tone, she greets him a good mor-

“I’m glad... I was right.... hah... hah... You’re here... Diana.”

And Diana really shouldn’t just assume things such as being wrong, and that maybe her neighbor was a creep two months back.

Because now her neighbor, all frazzled, sweaty, and out of breath, is right there in front of her, a bunch of papers crumpled in one hand as the other is held over her heart, trying to calm herself.

“You... hah... didn’t let m-me... Sa-ha-y goodbye... so... you’re not allowed... to leave me waiting in silence and never respond...” Akko huffs. “There’s no more wall preventing you from using words now.”

Her breathing finally slows, and she manages to look up.

“I still have a song for you, after all.”

Diana doesn’t realize, nor does she feel the tears flowing down her face.

Akko doesn’t either.

“L-Let me know what you think... It’s my first song and all...” She becomes this shy blushing school girl as she approaches Diana’s bedside, awkwardly handing over the worn pieces of paper, all wrinkled up from whatever adventure Akko had been on prior to arriving here. “... then maybe we could play a duet again or something...”

She mumbles it so quietly Diana almost didn’t catch it.

She smiles.

She doesn’t think about the reality that was supposed to occur today had she not been taken to the hospital.

Virtual duets aren’t really her thing. She much prefers hearing sound in person, in real-time. She prefers the ability to adapt and adjust to play alongside someone; to feel expression and emotion first hand; to experience a duet in full.

So it’s a simple reply that she has ready, along with a smile on her face as she takes Akko’s hand in hers.

“I’d love that.”

 //-//-//-//-//

 Diana has told her many times that it’s thanks to her that she was able to recover as quickly as she did, and be out of the hospital in only a week.

Akko sheepishly denies that every time.

They’re both just glad things seem to settle to be alright now.

Diana leans her head against Akko’s shoulder as they share a pair of earphones, listening to the composition play on the latter’s laptop.

“I love it.”

“I know. You’ve told me that the past 4 months, everyday.”

“And I will continue to.”

Akko tries her best to hide the smile that had grown on her face, but it’s impossible. It comes out in laughs and a few soft tears, and she rubs her head against Diana’s.

“You have all the time to, it seems.”

“Yes, and I won’t waste it.” Diana quips, turning her head up to look at Akko with the tenderest of smiles. “Care to play?”

Akko simply smiles, before wrapping Diana up in a hug so deep, and warm, and tender. Without a word, she stands them both up, walking them over to two keyboards now positioned side-by-side.

They take seat. With eyes meeting, and a small nod, they begin.

They don’t need words to figure out the rhythm they’ll fall into, or what they should do, or who plays what part for today.

Akko’s colors seep out, her warmth embedded in her music. Diana’s expressive emotions tell Akko all she needs to know, and they play in harmony.

Together, they tell a story.

A story that began with a sunset and a few familiar notes from a piano.

A story about its music and what lay beyond a wall.

A story once called, “Diana”.

Now,

“Diana and Akko”.

  A/N: ....  Hrmmm... I didn’t like how i ended it, tbh,,, hahaha. I just... lost my thought process now. I’m tired and lost.

Anyway.

Based off this story

The follow-up to this won’t be now, or anytime too soon. Or tbh, I could just end it like this. But there’s this ache in my heart that wants to know what happens next as well. Or more things such as how Diana ended up staying. But well,

...who knows.

Bye for now.

~Shintori Khazumi

[bagadew]

The Great Ace Attorney Playthrough: The Adventure of the Runaway Room (Part 1b)

Last time: We (and by we I mean Ryunosuke and Susato) arrived in England, and were almost immediately sent to play lawyer by Daemon Gant’s ancestor, who is definitely going to either die or kill someone later. Despite our client being only the richest of able bodied white men, we quickly found ourselves on the ropes thanks to the worlds least impartial jury. Fortunately we now get to put the buggers on the spot and demand they give us their reasons for convicting my client (and boy had they better be good).

Ryunosuke, the more we learn about that man the more of a cad he becomes. I say we should be very thankful we aren’t doing that.

Let me get this straight, instead of smashing their half baked ideas to smithereens and laughing as I go, I have to use the worlds weakest bricks to build my argument.

Susato, one of them knows one of the witnesses.

Oh, so that’s what we’re doing.

Ok, Ryunosuke, lets get shit stirring!

Well firstly, either the drunk juror’s wrong or Beppo’s overcharging people, so jot that down.

Ooh, we’re pacing!

(Also, I’d like to thank Juror No.4 for backing me up, ma’am you are the only member of this group bothering to make even the slightest bit of effort. For this I thank you.)

Of course! Thank you for putting two and two together like that for me!

(Wait a second, I’ve just realized that we’ve got the KBS slung on our hip! That’s amazing!)

And this lady’s and gentleman, is why we don’t let people who know those involved stand on the Jury.

GET HIS ASS JUROR NO.4!

(You are my favourite juror, you can tell the others if you’d like.)

Excellent work Ryunosuke!

Have you not even been listening?

(Susato is explaining the last ten minutes to him because she has more patience than I ever will.)

>:D

And Juror No.2’s crossed over to our side as well!

>:D

And she’s doing it for much better reasons than Juror No.5!

Juror No.2 you’re winning me back!

Just two more jurors to convince now, so let’s go on to the discrepancy about how the victim was stabbed, and maybe point out that the body was left in the seat it was stabbed it.

Old Lady vs Jack the Ripper, here we go!

(Ten guineas on the granny!)

Haha! His knife got stuck in the table!

(I put it again that this man should have that knife taken away from him.)

Yes judge, and if we’d been allowed to go through the whole trial before the jurors jumped the gun, you’d have known that already.

Yay! We’ve won Granny Thickle back!

WHAT DO YOU THINK THE JURY IS SUPPOSED TO DO YOU NINCOMPOOP?!?

And he’s being really racist now.

Fortunately he’s also rubbing the rest of the jury up the wrong way!

Well I consider this to have been a success Ryunosuke.

Well given that the body was found on the seat and there was no blood on the floor... I’m going to say no.

He wants evidence.

Ok then.

As a wise man with a cool sword once said: I will shove it down your throat and make you choke on it.

(Yeah, we should really have seen Kazuma’s moral dubiousness coming...)

Anyways, let’s show him the crime scene photo then.

WRONG???

Of course! The autopsy report shows he was only stabbed once!!!

Meaning that there was only one incident where the witness was stabbed!

VICTORY VICTORY VICTORY!!!

YEAH!!!

Yes, kill each other!

My Lord, Juror No.3 has started licking his knife and threatening the witnesses now...

I’m a little bummed we didn’t get to convince Juror No.4 seeing as she’s the one putting in the hours up there, but never mind. We’re back on track baby!

HE CRUSHED IT!

Oh my god Ryunosuke, we’ve got a prosecution shut up button!

HE THREW OF HIS DRACULA CLOAK!

Oh please, we all know perjury doesn’t exist in this here!

Oho, so apparently Beppo’s been overcharging his customers. Given the conditions he’s been working in I can’t exactly blame him though.

Unfortunately that does kind of rule out the possibility of an extra passenger though, so I’m not sure it helped us much.

Damn right I do!

‘Absolutely’ Ryunosuke and I share one mind.

Now let’s see if we can clear up that whole ‘I saw the victim stabbed on the floor’ bs.

You know, I’m rapidly warming to Mr Furst. Unlike the other witnesses and the god damn jury, he’s not telling lies, or overinflated by his own self importance. He’s actually taking it seriously and doing his best to be as clear and close to factual as he can.

I mean he could well be the killer for all I know, but right now I’m just enjoying him as a nice gentle guy who’s trying his best. It’s refreshing.

Barok’s trying to point out that we still have one witness who saw the stabbing, to which I say: Yeah, a witness with a reason to lie!

Still, Beppo’s the one I should probably be focusing on here, as he’s saying he saw the victim stabbed in places he couldn’t have been.

Well that was easy.

Mr Fairplay on the other hand is going absolutely ham on his cane.

What’s the matter Mr Fairplay?

Got something to say?

Again Mr Fairplay, being a banker in an Ace Attorney Game is not the commending statement you think it is.

Anyways new statement time!

And what’s this I see? Both his hands were covered in blood? That looks like a new contradiction to me!

You know he’s weirdly insistent about this, and I can’t work out why?

Like, regardless of whether or not he committed the murder, he’s clearly hoping that Mr McGilded’s going to be taken out of the picture as a result.

But if he wants that to happen then this is such a weird thing to lie about. It doesn’t add in any way to Mr McGilded’s ‘guilt’, in fact thanks to his gloves it kind of does the opposite.

But if he’s not lying then he has to be mistaken and I don’t understand what that would mean either.

Wow, Juror No.6 is ready to throw down!

(Juror No.3’s going off as well, but I don’t think that’s anything to write home about.)

NOT IN THE WAY HE REPEATEDLY SAID IT WAS!

I’m no longer so sure. After all, if he was it would be far more in his interest to keep quiet about it or say he was mistaken as soon as we bought the gloves out.

What I’m beginning to wonder though, is if there was a mysterious fifth passenger after all, and their hands were the ones Mr Fairplay saw covered in blood.

Come to think of it, he did say that he didn’t see the victim or killers faces, so that’s a good chance, and one that actually gives some hint as to what our suspect looks like: i.e. small.

Debt time.

IT’S A HUGE DEBT!!!

Good to get proper conformation on that theory then.

ORDAAR!

(If you don’t know about the House of Commons cry of Order you should look it up on YouTube. It’s basically the one good thing to have come out of that place.)

So he did lie about seeing the moment the victim was stabbed then. I guess that leave more room for the idea that the fifth passenger did it.

Actually, come to think of it did Mr McGilded ever tell us where he went to sit in the carriage? Could he have been on the open side, the one Mr Fairplay and Mr Furst couldn’t see from where they were?

Huh, he’s still doubling down.

Again I really don’t think he’s lying here, but I do think he’s mistaken about who’s hands he could see.

Also given how much this statement relies on him being a witness I should probably rule him out of my enquires.

I’m rapidly going back over my notes to see if I ever accused him, but let’s be honest here I did. The False Accusations counter is up to a nice healthy 5/5.

Of course Mr Furst, you’re an angle and we’re all thrilled you’re here.

Ok, well now any doubts I had that Mr Fairplay was telling the truth have been put to rest, thank you Mr Furst. You, me and Susato should form our own breakaway courtroom, Juror No.4 can come if she likes.

Anyway time for more testimony.

Certainly looks that way doesn’t it My Lord?

Now Barok want’s to examine the Omnibus again.

You know what, sure Barok, knock yourself out.

Barok, keep up. It literally a huge contradiction sitting right there.

YES IT MATTERS!!!

Well thanks to Mr Furst, the one good witness, we know that the real killer wasn’t wearing any gloves. Again Mr Furst I thank you.

Wait a second, there was a space under the seat opposite the victim wasn’t there. I know it was full of stuff but was there any room for someone to fit themselves?

Barok’s telling me that there was no trace of blood on Mr McGilded’s actual hands. I’m glad you’ve finally caught up Barok but stop talking now so I can examine the omnibus again.

Yes! A space!

And whoever it was who could fit inside there definitely fits the category of small!

And right on cue it’s time to bring their blind spot to light.

Now, I need to work out if they want to know about the space under the seats or if they just want the seats themselves, because from where Mr Furst and Mr Fairplay were sitting they couldn’t see either.

Fuck it, I’ll just put my cursor half way between the two and hopefully it’ll except whichever one it wants.

Haha, yes... exactly what I was going to say...

MY EVIDENCE IS THE FUCKING BLOODIED GLOVES!!!

Anyways, given that the killer was by all accounts sitting next to the victim with no gloves and bloodied hands, the only person who could have been in the concealed seat was Mr McGilded. Again, did anyone actually bother to check which seat he sat in?

Well done Judge. Still as sharp as ever I see.

Wow, that one hit the light!

Barok, that’s alcohol. If you start a fire in here I’m not going to put you out.

Oh he’s being racist again.

Racist stuff Ryunosuke.

Ok, well let me brake this down into words that a stuck up prick like you would understand. The witnesses never saw the attackers face, but they did see his hands and all agree that they were covered in blood. My clients hands were not covered in blood, and therefor he doesn’t fit the one thing we know about the killer. However we know he was on the omnibus, and the only place he could have been is in the seat that can’t be seen.

... you guys, I think this man might be the OG “protégé” prosecutor. Hugh O’Connor and Sebastian Debeste were simply trending in this mans footsteps.

I’m not really sure how much clearer you want me to be My Lord!

(Also ORDAAAAR!)

Van Zieks is still crawling blindly towards the light, and I suggest we just move on without him.

I know (or at least I hope) he’s just deliberately putting up barriers as the prosecution, but the way he’s doing it really looks like he’s packing his intelligence onto a bus and sending it out to destinations unknown.

(Credit to Ryunosuke for spelling it out for him though.)

Thank you Mr Furst, I knew you’d have my back.

THEN LET’S BRING HIM INTO COURT!!!

(ORDAAARR!!!)

Yeah on what grounds?

I mean this is literally the solution to all our problems.

Yeah, well he probably lied (though I can’t work out why).

Excellent point Ryunosuke!

Now Van Zieks is pointing out that if Mr McGilded lied in his statement there would have been a deliberate reason for doing so. To be honest, as the prosecution, this seems like all the more reason to bring him in.

Anyway we’re demanding his testimony.

WHY THE HELL ARE WE ASKING THEM?!?

Well luckily for us the jury seems to finally be getting its arse in gear and has agreed (fairly unanimously) to let the god damn defendant make a statement in his own murder trial.

Nothing to say here. This just feels like a meme.

HAHA!!! THERE WAS SOMEONE!!!

EAT MY SHIT BAROK!!!

Wait an urchin?

Ace Attorney, I’ve already had a ‘don’t feel good’ case regarding who I’m accusing, don’t make me do that again.

STOP MAKING ME ACCUSE POOR AND FRIGHTENED CHILDREN!

Yeah, they probably would have done, and unlike you I don’t think she’d have been able to pull the ‘I donated a park to this city you know’ trick to win hearts and minds.

I wonder if she was there as a passenger or as a stowaway? Because I’d say that gap under the seat could fit a child pretty easily.

Now Barok’s saying we have no reason to believe Mr McGilded. And he’s right except for, you know, all the evidence...

Wait what.

A smoke bomb just went off!

I really don’t like the face Mr McGilded pulled just then, and he definitely gave a signal for it to be dropped.

...Ah fuck, he’s guilty isn’t he.

And he’s using some kid to cover it up.

Well shit...

[toru-oikawas-milkbread]

FIRST: immediately casting a vote for MatsuHana because I love their dynamic and would be pleased to be sandwiched between the two of them 😌

SECOND: I have a daily brainrot for you, this one is very sweet! Who of the HQ boys do you see as being Mama's Boys? 👀 For me the twins immediately come to mind, as does Bokuto since he's the big baby of the family! 😊 I also think Oikawa would've been especially close to his mother and sister. Any thoughts?

This is a really, really long ask answer, so I’m gonna put a read line here so things on my blog don’t get all stuffy, but I think these headcanons were so fun to write and I hope those of you who stop to read them enjoy them! 

MatsuHana won the poll because of votes I've had on Twitter, so yay! Honestly, me too. I've been daydreaming a lot about a playful poly relationship with them and I just can't get over the dynamic. How nice it would be to work with Matsukawa during the day (because of my future career plans) and then come home to dinner made by Makki and then all clean up together and cuddle. It's a thought I just cannot let go of

Okay, first of all: I fucking love this idea. Mama's boys end me every time because I just KNOW they won't be a total asshole if they're a loving mama's boy. Second, I agree with the twins for sure, though I think that Atsumu clings to mama Miya a bit more than Osamu does. Like he's the grown up kid who still cuddles with his mom. Whereas Osamu gives me the kind of vibes like he would follow his mother everywhere that they go around the house and never stop talking to her, and even after he moves out I can see him calling her every night on his way home from the store or while he's making dinner

Definitely Bokuto! I think he loves curling up with his mom and running errands with her. He makes me feel like he would love to garden with his mom when he was younger and I think in the future after his mom passes he would take gardening up again and have a little flower patch. Maybe he'd talk to his mom while he planted the flowers and thank her for teaching him everything he needs to know about gardening, only to go to you and sob because he misses her

I agree with Oikawa 100000%. I think he was the clingy mama's boy who would rant and rave to her about every little issue he had while sitting at the table while she makes dinner. She heard about Ushiwaka and Kageyama, and even into his high school years. I think he would FaceTime with her every day when he moves to Argentina because he misses her and he still wants to see and talk to her as much as he can

Picture this: Matsukawa as a mama’s boy. Following her around after school and telling her all about his day. Telling her juicy gossip he hears from Makki because there’s trust that she’d never say anything. Her being the cool mom that he tells absolutely everything to and having such a strong bond with his mom. I think she taught him how to cook and he never forgot her homemade recipes. He loved bringing his s/o home to meet his mom because, uh— hello, his two favorite people in one room? Yes please. And if his mom sensing something off, that person is out. I can see Matsukawa’s mom being like a second mother to Makki as well and thinking of him as another son because of how much time he would spend at their house in his teenage years because he’s Makki and Matsukawa is his best friend

I think that Kyōtani gives off mama’s boy vibes if I’m being honest. Like after losing a match or getting into an argument with a kid at school, I think he would seek comfort from his anger and other people with his mom. Curling up with her on the sofa and eating some yummy food with her. Maybe she teaches him how to bite his tongue a bit better as he gets older and he finally starts listening to her. Kyōtani feels like the kind of guy who wouldn’t appreciate his mom fully until he was a lot older and then see her nearly every day if he could. Calling her on the way home from practice and going “Home” for weekly dinners because his mom’s house is always going to be home

Kageyama as a mama’s boy. Hiding his face in her stomach after a hard day when he was younger and seeking comfort in eating food with her during his shitty middle school days. Talking about his issues with Kunimi and Kindaichi to her after long days and then moving onto Hinata, but before she knows what’s even happening, Kageyama isn’t trashing on Hinata so much anymore and she praises him for that and it encourages him to keep going when he doesn’t know how to use his words

Kuroo as a mama’s boy. Making dinner with her every night, gardening, running errands together on the weekends; even after he moves out, he still frequently comes home to spend time with his mom because they’ve always been close and they’re always going to be, having dinner with his s/o at his families house at least twice a month so that his mom and s/o can have time together because he would love it if his mom and s/o got along. He learned a lot from his mom and he appreciates everything she’s done for him. Kuroo reminds me of a kind guy who would have a fun and playful teasing relationship with his mother as well as respecting her and holding her on a very high pedestal

Suna as a mama’s boy— but not with his mom, with the Miya twins mom. Maybe he has not the best and open relationship with his mother, but I think if he got close with the twins and he made his way to their house, their mother would basically adopt him and treat him as her own. Homemade meals to take home, hugs and kisses to the forehead. Cheek pinches and commenting about how handsome he’s getting as he gets older because she sees him as another son and he gets close to her. He views her as a mother and loves to follow her around with Osamu or call her to tell her about recent accomplishments because he knows that she would be as happy for him as he was happy for himself. Atsumu is jealous, but mama Miya adores Suna and teaches him how to hold himself high and be treated like he deserves to be treated— with love

Akaashi seems like a mama’s boy to me. The kind of guy who loved to learn from his mom and has always held her on a high pedestal because “Wow, my mom is amazing and can do anything!” And that belief never failed for him. I think he leaned to cook, clean, sew, take care of himself, take care of others, etc., from his mother and he’ll never forget that. Because of the way that Akaashi is, I think that he would learn to be respectful to others and his family and never speak cruelly or out of line with someone— all because his mother taught him how to treat even rude people

Oh, god. I went overboard. I love the concept of mama’s boys, and it’s really funny that you send me this because I was just thinking about having a mama’s boy Haikyuu boy as a boyfriend and being treated like a queen because he was raised by the best and taught by the best how to treat and respect women. I have a lot of feelings, anyways… I hope this isn’t too long to read, but thanks for sending these in and letting me get all gushy about our boys!

I am so not proofreading this… sorry if anything is off, that’s too many words for my brain right now 😂

[suilinbride]

Making a Confession, Stepping Away from Kemetic Orthodoxy, and Kicking My Own Ass in the Process

I know I've been a little quiet again here recently, save for building upon the foundation of this blog and occasionally setting up some of the framework for how this blog is going to look, feel, and act in the future. That's very much by design actually, as I've been dealing with family shenanigans again, taking care of my own personal and physical health, helping to finish taking care of a long term problem that's been festering in my personal Blind Pagan community for over ten months now, and finally, though not the last nor the least of what's currently going on with me on my end, I just finished up participating at the national convention for the National Federation of the Blind this weekend. Yes, I'm fully aware I'm busy like headless chick in staked to the back of a fucking Roadrunner.

Anyway, I have a confession to make here and I'm fully aware that actively choosing to become a Remejt and ignoring the issue at hand puts me squarely in the wrong for sure.

During this weekend while I was resting and waiting between two events being held by the convention that were hours apart from one another, I decided to do a lot personal soul searching and decided in the end to take no further steps with Kemetic Orthodoxy and instead allow my membership to falter, fall, and fade away like dust in the wind in the end. I actually regret agreeing to stay on as a Remetj at the end of the beginner course. I regret doing so because agreeing to stay on as Remetj was in a number of ways me lying to myself and not being completely honest all around. Some of my beliefs are incompatible with Kemetic Orthodoxy's beliefs and practice, and I should have said something right there and then. I plan on emailing someone on the site and asking them to go ahead and remove my membership or whatever it's called on the forum.

I came into the beginner course with two goals in mind, one of which would only work if I ended up becoming a Remetj. First, I wanted to learn some decent structure to help jump start my Kemetic practice, as I am currently unable to get ahold of any accessible copies of materials that are recommended as must have reading resources for getting into practicing Kemeticism. Second, I confess that I was extremely tempted by the idea of the Rite of Parent Divination or at least the idea of it as an easy way to figure out who one's gods are without doing the proper work and all the blood, sweat, and tears that usually go into that kind of work in the long run to be successful at forming healthy and strong relationships with beings, deities, etc.

I'm ashamed at the fact that I tried taking the easy way out in a way, instead of taking the first real step on the road to figuring things out on my own. I've never done that before. Yes, I've sought aid from other Diviners to obtain clues that I was missing out on to help me narrow things down and find the right trail to get where I want to go, or to confirm or debunk a conclusion or possibility when I think I'm at the end of the road, end of my rope, and there's not really anything else I can do except get a yay or nay on the subject at hand. But I've never shyed away from the work before, the real hard personal work that goes into building proper healthy relationships with beings, deities, etc, and I'm kicking my own ass hardcore for trying to take the easy way out this one time.

It's not an excuse I'm trying to offer here but merely offering the facts or at least what I think happened or at least the processes that were going on in my head when all of these things happened, but I think the struggle that I've been going through the past year regarding straightening out my practice between Greek or Roman (I'll talk more about that in a later post), that my exhaustion of sorts got in the way of my proper mindset of things and I ended up throwing my own rules and personal protocols of doing the work tofigure things out straight out the window for something that would make things easier. Just typing the words leaves ashes in my mouth.

Either way, in the end Brighid made the whole thing moot in a very interesting way. See, Brighid and I have a personal deal or pact you can say, that among other things, she gets to call the shots on which deities I can and can not worship. This is something I entered in with her with my eyes completely wide open and understanding completely what it meant to give her that kind of power. I made this deal with her several years ago as a last ditch attempt as a desperate and last resort sort of action to save my sanity and most likely my life. I mean that in all seriously. I was being attacked by a deity that refused to take no for an answer, refused to respect my sense of consent, and was gunning for me in a way that would either see me as her's and her's alone, or dead in the process. I'm not kidding when I write that, not one bit. I can tell you some crazy horror stories regarding what happened during that terrible year, as it was the kind of year where everything crashed and burned as if it was ignited by Napalm of all things.

But I digress, as I tend to do way too damn much. I got my second vaccination shot for Covid on the eighteenth of June, which was a Friday, and ended up obtaining a Fever of One Hundred Five that Saturday morning. Brighid decided to take that as an opportunity to rekindle our relationship in the exact same way she did when she first healed and claimed me Fifteen years ago this past February. We've been struggling with just about every aspect of our relationship for the past seven years or so, and while this didn't fix everything completely (as there is still a lot of work for both of us to get things where we both want things to be in our relationship), this whole crazy spiritual ordeal cleared the way for us in so many ways that I can't even begin to describe properly.

One of the things that got brought up was the status and nature of every relationship I have or hoped to have with every deity I've been building a relationship with for years now. A lot of uncertainties, confusion, illusions, and chaos all fell away. There are some major changes in my practice I need to write about at some point, but I'm still wrapping my head around it all first. I haven't had the time to do so yet, and it's something I'm working on as I type this all out. 

With all of the things that were cleared away, she showed me which of the Egyptian gods I had a fledgling relationship with, many of which I should have known (all things considered with my brief history with Kemeticism), but didn't have a clue until this crazy shit happened. That doesn't mean that everything is fine and dandy. It's far from it actually. I may know which of the Netjeru I have fledgling relationships with, but I need to do the work to actually build said relationships with those Netjeru on my own. I need to and I'm going to put in the blood, love, respect, sweat, and tears I put in with every relationship I have with deity and non deity alike.

And with all of that now written, here's my confession for whatever it's worth. If nothing else, I now have a clear mind and a far more cleaner heart. I'm a firm believer in stepping up and speaking out about making mistakes, fucking up, and not being or doing my best and then work on fixing those mistakes and doing my damndest to be and do even better next time. This is the first step in doing so, in my heart and mind anyway. 

[cafeinthemoon]

Tobirama with a talented s/o who succeeds in a jutsu he’s struggling to create 😜

So my fics are now organized and I’m back with the requests! Yay! I want to apologize for this huge delay, but it was necessary. I’ve had some stuff to solve in my personal but now everything’s ok

This was requested by anon (sorry anon, and I hope you haven’t forgotten about it lol) and I wanted it to sound like a filler episode of Naruto to me, so I’m going to write as if it was one, ok?

Fandom: Naruto | Tobirama Senju

Symbols: 💗 | ◻ | ▶▶

Of course, OF COURSE it had to be this GIF

It has been some days since you’ve noticed it

Tobirama has always spent long, lonely hours in his office, whether studying/improving old techniques or creating new ones. Man is always occupied with something

But this time is different: not only he has been spending even more time alone there, among his scrolls and notes, but he was also more grumpy brooding than usual

As if it wasn’t enough, he, who used to focus on what he had at hand, now seemed… distracted, something you never thought to be impossible

Tobirama has been ignoring anything that had no connection with whatever the task he was performing in his office. Yes, he has done this before, but now it was getting worse

He was barely eating (and when you entered his office to take his bowl it is full just like you’ve brought it to him)

He was coming to sleep later and later, and almost never opened his mouth to talk to you

You waited for it to pass like it’s just a phase but it didn’t happen. You started to think of taking some actions

And you decided the time for it has come right after he did something unforgivable: in the middle of a conversation, he just left. HE JUST LEFT

TOBI WHAT THE HELL

You can take many things, almost everything (and living with this man even Hagoromo would doubt all the things you had to take for the sake of love), but this has gone too far

Now you had to find out what was going on

So you followed him and before he closed the office’s door, you stormed inside it and demanded an explanation…

Well, the explanation you got was not a verbal one: you looked around and found yourself in a sea of scrolls and ink

Of course. A new technique. And an extremely complex one, judging by the amount of ink spent on those drafts. That also explained why he has been so tired lately

You needed to know what kind of technique was that to steal him from you for so long, so before he had the chance to stop you, you grabbed one of the scrolls close to your feet and examined it... And what you saw there almost made you laugh

That jutsu he has been struggling to finish was yours. YOURS LMAO

You created that jutsu years ago, but the need to use it never came. So when you started your relationship with Tobirama, you didn’t mind telling him about it (you kinda forgot it tbh)

Yeah, it was funny as hell but you didn’t want to hurt his pride, so you calmly asked him about it

He sighed and told you the story from the beginning: during one of his last missions, he noticed that his team had some difficulties while dealing with a specific situation. This struggle could be avoided in their next missions if they had a technique like that at hand, so he decided to create it in order to teach it to them

However, the task was being more difficult complex than he first expected, and this was stealing his sleep

You loved this man and his dedication to his young team, so that instead of concentrating on his failures, you thought of this and said you could help him since you knew exactly what he needed

And you did it in the most obvious way, at least to you: you made the hand seals and performed the jutsu

But apparently this was the worst thing you could have done, because now he was not just confused with his own failure but also irritated that you were able to do it so easily

“Of course I would be able to perform it, Tobi, since I’ve created this jutsu”

Tobirama fell silent at this… just before starting to argue that this is not exactly the jutsu he was trying to create, that his idea for the technique was more aligned to another element because bla bla bla bla bla

Nothing in this world would make this man admit he was wrong, this you always knew, but GOD THIS IS SO IRRITATING like why couldn’t he just say it ????

You tried but you couldn’t help getting involved in a fight that only didn’t end up destroying the room because you left first

An entire week passed and you treated each other as strangers. Tobirama managed to create another jutsu, different from the original plan but efficient anyway, but still weren’t going to apologize. You, on the other hand, weren’t going to do it either if he’d keep insisting on this

Surprisingly, it was his team that saved your love that time: that week could have turned into a month if two of his students who went on a mission with you didn’t talk to the others about your jutsu, that was finally proved necessary

You just came back and were at the village’s entry and the rest of team met there. Tobirama came to see his students (and you ofc) and ended up hearing their excited conversatio. One of them turned to him and asked why he didn’t tell them about that jutsu before. He just said he didn’t know about it, otherwise he would have told them

You just gave him that look but said no words

Later, when you came home, you continued in silence until you went to sleep. Only then, Tobi turned to you and said your technique was indeed impressive and that he was content that you managed to protect his young team with it

Knowing him as you did, you understood it as an honest apologize

You know, it was never easy for someone like Tobirama to acknowledge when he was surpassed by someone, but sometimes he did it. And for you, it served as a proof of love 💜

[fireinmoonshot]

6.  “You and me, together. We’re unbeatable. We can go against all odds and come out on top.” With booker please?😊

A/N: I had several people asking for a Part 2 to THIS fic, and so here it is! I genuinely nearly cried writing this, so that was fun. And I love this prompt very much so thank you for sending it in! Enjoy! This ended up being nearly 2000 words long, somehow... so... yay!

Ever since you’d arrived at Merrick’s lab, you’d refused to talk to Booker. You’d even been quiet when Nicky or Joe had spoken to you. They’d had more important things to worry about, anyway. Like the fact that Andy wasn’t healing like she should have been.

That thought echoed through your mind just as much as Booker’s betrayal did. You still felt as though the air had been knocked out of you, and every time Booker, strapped to the chair beside you, tried to talk to you, it felt as if you were drowning more and more in that betrayal. Of all the people you’d ever expected to betray you, you’d never expected it to be him. Never expected it to be the person you’d fallen in love with.

And now you were going to lay here and he was going to have to watch you get tortured for hundreds, possibly even thousands of years. The thought wasn’t as nice a thought in terms of revenge as you wanted it to be.

You felt empty. Despite the fact that you were in a more dangerous place than you’d ever been before, you were less scared than ever. Funnily enough, Booker seemed more scared than you were considering the amount of times he tried to get your attention, to apologise. You’d allowed Joe to yell at him as much as he wanted. Hearing Joe ask him how on earth he could do this to you of all people, just made you feel more numb. Booker couldn’t answer. You weren’t sure if you wanted him to. What could he say now that would fix anything?

Then you’d heard it. Gunfire, somewhere in the distance. What was happening? Nile was gone, you’d seen her driving away. So what could be going on?

You looked over at Andy and it was clear she’d heard it, too. She met your eyes and you both looked back at the door, but the gunfire had stopped. Moments passed and your hope began to diminish, just as the door pushed open and Nile stumbled through it.

“Nile?” Booker spoke, confused. “Behind you!”

A guard had snuck up on her and fired a shot. She returned with a shot of her own and then slammed the door shut. She took out the woman who’d been employed to torture you with ease and went straight for Andy.

“There’s four shooters at the door and more coming,” she explained, beginning to free Andy from her chair. She pulled out a spare gun and held it towards her. You were surprised to see Andy turn away from it. “Andy.” Nile grabbed Andy’s hand and placed the gun into it. “Immortal or not, you made a promise. Whatever it takes. I’ve seen it, Andy. I know all the good you’ve done.”

You flinched as the door slammed open again, but you needn’t have. Andy and Nile took out all four of the shooters within a second of their entrance.

Andy moved to free herself, and then moved to unclip Nicky and Joe. Nile stepped towards Booker, and you were unable to stop yourself from scoffing as Booker stopped her by asking her to leave him.

“You should listen to him Nile,” you muttered as Andy reached you and unclipped your restraints. You sat up in your chair and swung your legs over.

Nile clearly disagreed. “No man left behind.”

“There’s always a first time. He’s nothing but a traitor. That’s–” Joe, from across the room, was just as mad as you were. Andy stopped him, but you met his eyes and gave him a grateful smile as you stepped off the bed for the first time in hours.

“Stop! This is not the time for it,” Andy started, “We don’t get a say in when it ends. We never have. But we can control how we live. And to be honest, Book, you and I, we’ve been doing a shit job of it. Now, get up. Let’s go.” She looked over at you. “I know you wanna leave him here, and I get it. But we need all hands on deck right now. We stop Merrick here and now or he never stops coming after us, and we can only do that if we work together. Betrayal or not, we work better as a team. And you two work better with each other than you do alone.”

With a sigh, Booker reached over and undid the restraints that Nile hadn’t gotten to. He stood up from his chair and walked over to join the rest of you.

“I’ve got your back,” Booker said softly, directly to you.

You looked up at him with narrowed eyes. You hadn’t wanted to see it before, but the regret in them was clear. And if Andy could forgive him – Andy, who had been shot and nearly killed by him – you could at least consider it. “Slightly regretfully, I’ve got yours.”

His lips quirked up into a small smile as Andy walked through the group of you with a “Let’s get this motherfucker.”

It meant something now that Booker had decided to fight alongside you instead of fighting against you. The team worked better when he was there. You all had your places. You all knew what to do and when to do it, and you hated to admit it but without Booker there, you had a feeling that things would have gone much worse. You felt safer with him by your side, somehow.

You were a team first and foremost. You all had each others backs. You all took down Merrick’s men with bullets, with punches, with kicks and with each other.

Booker had your back, and you had his. He’d take a bullet for you, and you would take one for him. That was the answer to your question back in Copley’s house. You’d asked him if he still loved you, and you’d cut him off before he could answer. But when he stepped in front of you to block you from a bullet that he knew wouldn’t hurt you, when he took the kill shot in your place, you knew.

Booker had never stopped loving you.

You were still by his side when he woke up, and it was you that helped him stand again. It was you that suddenly didn’t want to let go of his hand, despite how much he’d hurt you. Because you’d never stopped loving him either.

Andy, Nicky, Joe and Nile all sat inside the pub discussing what to do with Booker after his betrayal. You’d sat alongside them for several minutes before your eyes kept being drawn to Booker, stood outside and looking out over the water, drink in hand.

Wordlessly, you’d excused yourself from the table and gone out to join him. Things weren’t looking good inside, and part of you didn’t want to hear the answer.

Booker looked up as you leant on the railing beside him.   It had been the first time you’d been alone with him since his betrayal. He fixed you with a tight lipped smile and then took a drink. “Come to tell me the bad news?”

“No,” you shook your head. “They haven’t made a decision yet. I don’t– I don’t want to be there when they do.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I would have thought you’d be the first one to kick me out.”

“I thought so, too,” you chuckled a little. “Guess not.”

Silence fell between you. A breeze ran over the balcony, cool from the water. You both had no idea what to say to him, and too many things to say to him.

He beat you to it.

“I should have told you,” he said quietly, staring out over the water. “I should have told you about everything.”

“You shouldn’t have betrayed us in the first place.”

“I know. I knew that the second I decided to do it. I knew that the second I saw the way you looked at me in Copley’s house. I’ve– I’ve only ever seen love in your eyes. And that look?” Booker shook his head. “That was the moment I knew I’d made the biggest mistake of my life. That look in your eyes. I– that look was what broke me.”

You knew, then, why he was refusing to look at you. He worried he’d see that same look in your eyes now.

“Why’d you do it, Book? I know what you said in Copley’s house but… why? Was I not enough for you?”

Booker immediately shook his head. “Were you– no, God, no. You were more than enough. You are. I just… haven’t you ever just wanted to live? To just exist for the time you’re meant to exist for. To have your allotted time on earth and not go any further?”

“Of course I have, Book. But–”

“I wanted – I want – to live with you. To have a normal life with you without worrying about the next thousand years. To not have to worry about you dying out of the blue on me. To have that the time we’d have left together confirmed by age or life or illness. That was why I did it. Because I didn’t want to lose you. But I did that anyway. By doing all of this, I lost you anyway. And I’ll come to terms with that eventually.” He shrugged a shoulder and then took another drink. “I will come to terms with the fact that you hate me.”

Tears had sprung to your eyes while he spoke, and you tried to frantically blink them away. He had no reason to think that you didn’t hate him. And you wanted to hate him. God… you wanted to hate him. But every time you thought about him now all you could see was how he’d thrown himself in front of you in Merrick’s lab. How he’d taken that bullet for you. How he’d died so you wouldn’t.

You sniffed, and Booker looked at you.

“You– shit, I’m sorry–” He winced upon seeing your tears. “I don’t– I don’t have a tissue. Let me go and get–”

You reached out an arm and stopped him. Confusion was clear in his eyes as he looked down at you, but you knew it wasn’t hate he saw in your eyes. He had no reason to be fearful of that.

“I don’t hate you, Booker,” you said softly. “I wish I hated you. That would make things so much easier. But somehow I still love you. I mean – how could I ever hate someone who’d die to save me? That’d– that’d be bizarre.”

“You… still love me?” His voice was quiet.

“Whatever they decide in there,” you nodded towards the window where the other four were sat. “I’m with you.  Whether they decide to send you away, whether they just forgive and forget. I’m with you. You and me, together. We’re unbeatable. We always have been. We can go against all odds and come out on top. I truly believe that.”

Booker looked as though he was on the edge of tears.

Before you lost your nerve, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into a hug. He hugged you back without hesitation, holding you close to his chest. His lips pressed against the top of your head.

“I never meant to hurt you. You need to know that.”

“I know, Book. I know.”

“And I still love you. I think you know that. But I want you to hear me say that I love you. I never want you to doubt it again,” he spoke. “Like you said… this is the hand that life’s dealt me. And I don’t want to take it for granted. Not for one more second.”

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Deep Blue Fantasy Part Seven

Pairing: Merman!Tamaki Amajiki x fem!reader

Warnings: None, maybe a vague sexual reference

Author’s Note:

Whoo! It's Sugar; back to bring you the conclusion to the Mermaki saga. So it's finally over! I'm a little sad to see it go, but I'm glad to have my vision complete. I think I worked on this for ~3 months.

Anyway, not to bore you before we get to the story, I just wanted to give a huge thank you for all the support! Even if you don't leave comments or even a like, I want to thank you for reading. I don't publish these for the notes or comments. I do this simply because I want to get my writing out to the world for people to hopefully enjoy. If you liked reading my stories, even if you don't say anything, I'm happy to think I made you smile with something I've written. It's still nice to know for sure, but no pressure.

Thanks again for reading, I couldn't do it without you guys.

Love,

-Sugar

✤✤✤✤✤

{Pt. 1}  {Pt. 2}  {Pt. 3}  {Pt. 4}  {Pt. 5}  {Pt. 6}  {Pt. 7}

くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡

The membranous lids over Tamaki's eyes slid to the side, only to be met with more darkness. It was then that he remembered. He was alone, at the bottom of the ocean.

Tamaki straightened, now unused to the drag of the water slightly hindering his movements. His tail curled up, and he studied the overlapping scales that adorned it, looking pitch black in the dim depths of where he had lain. He must have fallen asleep after he'd fled from you. Tamaki looked up towards the surface, wondering how much time had passed since. It looked considerably brighter up there, so he'd probably slept the full night. Great.

The fins on his tail waved a little in the mini currents swirling around him. He watched a little crab wander over the grey sand before burying itself beneath the fine grains. Now that Tamaki was settled down, he realized how dumb his actions the previous night had been. Seriously? Running away? What good did that do for him?

You were royalty . . . . Interesting. He really should have seen it coming, what with all the blatantly obvious signs there were. Maybe he had been trying to lie to himself. Maybe he had suspected all along, but just wanted to play to the fantasy that you were still, somehow, not too far out of his league.

But a princess? That had been too much. And yet . . . Tamaki found that you never talked down to him. You never treated him different. You must have known he was a commoner, and yet you hadn't been put off by it. Maybe you were only interested because he was a merman? But you hadn't even known it that first day, and your kindness hadn't changed since.

Tamaki laid himself back down, sand softly shifting under his ruined white human shirt. He hid his face in his hands again, replaying the events of last night over in his mind. What had he done? You were so close to him, and the dance you'd had was nothing short of magical. The connection he'd felt between you . . . he couldn't have just imagined it.

The merman gingerly lifted a hand, letting his fingertips ghost over his chest where your hands had been placed mere hours before. He pushed into himself a little harder, trying to imagine it was you, mind beginning to race with ideas of how it all could have gone differently.

Tamaki's fingers froze. His chest was smooth. Too smooth. It was only then that he remembered what had made him human in the first place, followed by what he'd done with it.

The necklace!

In a moment of denial, Tamaki began patting himself around his neck, ripping his shirt over his head in a desperate attempt at finding the valuable object he was borrowing. But he knew it was gone. He distinctly remembered throwing it behind him as he ran into the sea.

He laid himself back down in the sand again, right next to his old shirt.

Stupid stupid stupid stupid—

Tamaki let out a high pitched keen into the water around him, trying to vent his frustration towards himself. Not only had he destroyed his chances with you, he'd also broken his promise to that Nejire mermaid.

It was over. He'd yee'd his last haw. There was no more hope for him. He'd have to go to live off in the corners of the ocean, holed up like some kind of hermit crab where no one he'd ever known would find him again. This was it. It was time to go run—no, swim—away again.

Tamaki didn't move. He allowed himself to lie down and sulk for another good, long time before finally hauling himself up. He needed help, that much was clear. Maybe Mirio would lift his spirits enough for him to snap out of this. Besides, his best friend had a lot of good ideas and always seemed to know what to say to Tamaki.

He flicked his tail, letting himself rise up a bit in the water before sluggishly making his way in the direction of his old home.

Tamaki soon came upon the merpeople village, the familiar outline of homes jutting from the sandy sea floor. He swam through them, trying to keep a low profile in case someone decided to question his disappearance for the past week. Granted, not letting anyone see him for extended amounts of time was nothing new for Tamaki, but now that he was guilty, it was hard to brush the fact aside.

He couldn't help but feel like an outsider among the buildings. Tamaki had never been all that social, so he didn't have the most ties to the town he'd grown up in. Really it had always just been him and Mirio, but now that he'd experienced you, he felt as though there was no going back to his old ways.

I may still have to, Tamaki glumly thought before finally reaching the large entry hole in the side of Mirio's home. He sent a ping inside, letting it bounce around the sandy mud walls. A dark form moved in the shadows, quickly telling Tamaki that Mirio was, in fact, home.

"Tamaki?" Mirio asked, running a hand over his face like he'd just woke up. "What are you doing here?" The blond finally registered the panicked expression on his friend's face, and ushered him inside. "What happened?" Mirio signed, floating back to activate a luminous lamp so it would be easier to converse. "Why are you a merman again?"

Tamaki crumbled a little, hunching in on himself. "I messed up."

Mirio's brow ridge pushed together, trying to make sense of what might have happened. "Did she reject you?" he guessed, trying to get his friend talking.

Tamaki shook his head. "No. It's almost like . . . I rejected her . . . ?"

"What?"

"She—Apparently—I didn't know—" Tamaki's tail wouldn't stop twitching, his fins waving in invisible currents. "She told me she's royalty," he finally motioned out.

Mirio blinked. "Humans do that? With monarchies?"

"Yes." Tamaki nearly growled in frustration at his predicament. "Except she doesn't have an empire or anything, she's what's called a princess. And her dad is rich and important and he like, owns the islands around here and I had no idea this entire time until last night and—"

"Tamaki." Mirio put a hand on his shoulder. "Breathe."

Tamaki paused, allowing himself to pull extra water through his gills. The sensation helped him calm down for a second, but then he began to fret again. "She—she was teaching me how to dance like a human, you know, with my legs and stuff, a-and we almost kissed but then I just had to ask her what a princess was and she looked upset and I ruined everything and I looked like an idiot—"

"Tamaki."

The merman in question froze again, slowly dropping his hands.

"It was an honest mistake," Mirio assured him. "Did she say anything about it?"

"No," Tamaki admitted. "But I ran away before she really could. There was something in her face . . . . She just looked so sad."

"Hmm." Mirio tapped a finger to his chin, thinking. "Have you told her you like her yet?" he finally asked.

"Not really, no." It was then that Tamaki's brain decided to give him flashbacks of the sponge incident, making him subtly shudder.

"Well . . . do you think she might like you back?" Mirio prodded.

Tamaki's first instinct was to say no, to keep his hopes from getting too high by denying any possible indication that you might think about him in that way. And yet, all the time you spent together, coupled with how close you had grown within the short time you'd known each other, and there was the moment you'd held yourself so close to him after you danced, mere moments before he ruined everything. If only he'd kissed you then . . . .

"Maybe," Tamaki hesitantly signed.

"And you know you like her, right?"

"Of course."

Mirio triumphantly lifted himself a little higher in the water. "There you go. Now all you have to do is tell her how you feel. Simple as that. She can only either reject or accept you. If she says no, then you can come back home with me and never see her again and we can pretend this never happened. If she likes you back, then yay! You have a girlfriend."

Tamaki was almost indignant towards how simply Mirio put it. Why did he have to make so much sense? But he had to admit he was right. Tamaki should just go back to you and apologize, maybe propose courtship while he was at it to get everything over with. Except one thing was stopping him . . . .

"So, uh, there's one more problem," Tamaki said.

"Oh?"

"You know the necklace I used to turn myself into a human?"

Mirio's eyes darted to Tamaki's chest, finding it bare before looking in his hands, as if he may have been holding it this entire time without him noticing. At the realization he couldn't see it, his gills flared a bit. "Tamaki? Where is it?"

"That's my problem. I . . . lost it."

"Why would you do that?!" Mirio lightly shook Tamaki's shoulders.

"It wasn't on purpose! I just . . . needed to get it off, and then I threw it somewhere . . . ."

"You threw it somewhere?!" For once, Mirio looked more panicked than his best friend. "But we have to give it back to Nejire! And you need to talk to her—that girl! What's her name again?"

"(Y/N)."

"Exactly! Is there any chance we could find it?"

Tamaki wanted to hope, he wanted to say that there was a chance, but he knew better. The ocean was so vast and violent, even within the past few hours it had to be gone forever. Tamaki should have thought more about the price he would have to pay for such a reckless action.

His slumped shoulders were enough of a hint for Mirio to what he was thinking. Mirio slumped a little too, feeling a bit defeated. "So is that it? Is there no other way for you to contact her?"

Tamaki began to think. You had been doing well with the sign language he'd been teaching you, and that stretch of beach Mirio had showed him where there weren't so many rocks would be a good place to meet up . . . . His mind began to spin, already trying to work something out for you.

"Well?" Mirio asked, wondering what made his friend shift his mood so suddenly.

"There may be something I can do," Tamaki said. After a few more moments of sorting out his thoughts, he began to relay them to Mirio.

"That could work," Mirio ruled.

"I may not be able to get my legs back, but I still have to apologize and tell her how I feel," Tamaki said, newly determined.

Mirio pumped his fist. "Let's go!"

By the time Mirio and Tamaki were ready, the surface had already surpassed its peak brightness. Tamaki vigorously pumped his tail in the direction of your island home, sincerely hoping you didn't hate him after the stunt he'd pulled.

✤✤✤✤✤

You hadn't slept well last night. Worry for your friend had worked its way into your very being, your position flighty and your eyebrows creased.

You didn't know how to feel. You weren't angry with him—well, maybe you were a little mad that he ran off without giving you a chance to talk or even say goodbye. You just wondered why he had gotten so upset. Truth be told, you'd thought he knew what you were talking about when you called yourself a princess. You liked how he treated you . . . just like any other person. He'd thought you were just another human. So that was why.

The realization had struck you the other night. You'd always hated the way people tended to act towards you; treating you either like you were some type of bomb or a piece of glass; dangerous, but fragile. Yet Tamaki had been different. Tamaki treated you like a friend. He was genuine and he was sweet . . . and he was a merman who had little clue as to how your world worked.

Had it all meant nothing? Would he flip that switch inside of him and never be himself around you again? Had that been the last time you'd see his carefree smile? The smile you were starting to fall in love with?

Love? You had more important things to worry about. Like your kingdom. And also the fact that he'd turned tail and ran the moment you said 'royalty'.

Stupid, you thought, though you weren't certain if it was directed at yourself or him. Forget about seeing his true smile again, you may never see him again.

You'd finally walked back to the chateau alone in the dark after deeming Tamaki gone for good. You hadn't even bothered to tell anyone that he was gone. What were they going to do? And it wasn't like now was a great time to reveal to an entire chateau of people that the boy you'd been hanging out with for the past week had actually been a merman this entire time, but now he ran away. Oopsie.

Ever your faithful friend, Brianne still poked her head inside your bedroom, wondering where you'd gone off to. She must have noticed the slump you'd fallen into after walking in on you laying face-down on your plush bed.

"Everything alright, princess?" she asked, concern lacing her voice.

"Y-yeah." You forced yourself to sit up in the bed, already in your night dress.

"Where's that boy?" she asked you. "I haven't seen either of you for the past hour."

You bit your lip, trying to decide whether or not you should lie. "He's in his room," you finally said, internally cringing at yourself for choosing untruth. "He doesn't like crowds much, so he went to bed early. I think I will too." You staged a yawn.

"Sounds like him," Brianne remarked. "He's stayed here all week and I don't think I've heard his voice. Oh, well. I hope he'll be up for the dance tomorrow night. I think he'd like it. Have a good rest, princess."

"Thank you. You as well."

She left and shut the door behind her, leaving you alone in your room with your thoughts. A week ago, you had been used to being alone, simply anticipating the return of your father from his important business in other lands. But now you had grown used to a very particular presence, and his absence was already beginning to settle very heavily on your heart.

One difficult night later, you found yourself in the company of your father, trying to keep all conversations away from the mysterious visitor you'd been harboring in the chateau. You'd missed your father, the king, and you still listened to every story he told you of his most recent travels. But at every pause, every distraction, your mind began to slip. It danced to lands of indigo-black hair, and infinite eyes of sapphire and cobalt, of a timid, gentle voice.

Tush! You'd let yourself catch feelings. What could be a more foolish move than that? You tried to subtly grind your teeth as your father began to talk about some lord of Ospal and their herring trade. Of all the people across all the seas, it had to be the one you couldn't have. The merman who fled. The merman who was probably only interested in you because you were a human.

Obscenities that had no business floating around the head of a princess angrily danced around in your mind, only interrupted from their chaotic boogie when your dad asked if you were okay. You glanced up from the desk you'd been boring holes into with your eyes, guiltily trying to wipe the blatantly aggravated expression off your face for a more pensive one.

You were dismissed after a long lunch with the king, retreating to your study to pour over your books. Maybe that would take your mind off the boy who'd made off with your heart. Or at least, that was what you'd hoped until you glanced out your window when a flash of movement caught your eye.

This window happened to have a lovely view of your beach, sprawling out below a large black cliff face abruptly cutting downward to dark ebony sand. Your gaze had grown used to the constant motions of the sea; black brackish waters undertoned with green and crested with white foam, infinitely pushing forward and rolling back on the shore. But what your peripheral vision wasn't accustomed to was a sudden flash of shiny brilliance lifting and falling from the waves beyond the rocks.

Your eyes darted up, uncertain if they'd seen right, and if they had, what it was they'd detected. But there it was again, and another. Two unmistakable scaly tails were poking out from the water. One was a sort of light blue green, while the other was more of an indigo black, reminding you of a certain someone's hair. You had only seen the likes of these tails in drawings; art typically accompanying a fantastical story, but there they were, basking in the steadily lowering sun right outside your window.

You shot yourself up, letting your chair screech as it abruptly slid out from behind you. Clutching your thin skirt in one hand, you began to run through the halls, flying past people in other rooms as you went. You flung the back door open, slippered feet pounding on the lush grass leading down to your favorite part of the island. They finally met the sand, your chest heaving as you focused your gaze on the two figures sliding above and under the surface.

"Tamaki?!" you called, hoping he would be able to hear you.

Sure enough, a familiar head poked up, waving to you urgently and pointing to your right. You frowned, confused as to what he was trying to say before he made a show of swimming in that direction.

So he wanted you to follow. That was something you could do.

You began to pick your way down the shore, trodding through overgrown tan grass and weaving through rocks deposited and littered throughout your path. After a few minutes of constant checking that the other was there, you found yourself on a new expanse of beach; this one still as violent as the last, but certainly more devoid of the large black rocks jutting from the frigid waves. It was then that Tamaki finally began to swim towards you rather than parallel, coming as close as he dared to the sandy beach.

You kicked off your shoes and stood at the edge of the water, wincing at each lap the cold water took at your bare feet. Don't go into the ocean had been drilled into your head so thoroughly from such a young age, that even going this far tensed your muscles to run at any moment.

You frowned at how far Tamaki had to float, bobbing up and down meters away from you. Hesitantly, you took another step, letting the water rush over your ankles and fleck onto your calves.

No closer, you saw him sign, fighting to keep himself in position and his hands visible at the same time. Not safe.

Your face ticked. You knew that.

"What happened?" you called out over the sea, hoping you'd still be able to understand each other. "You just left me, Tamaki. Why?"

Hurt flashed on his face after a moment of processing your words. I'm sorry! he signed. I got scared.

"Why are you all the way over there?" you asked. "What happened to your legs? The necklace?"

Tamaki winced again. You really seemed to be hitting the worst points right on the head. I, um, lost it.

"It's gone?!" you asked, incredulous. The volume you needed to be heard over the sound of the waves wasn't helping with your tone.

Look, Tamaki signed. I have something I need to tell you. I messed up and I was being stupid last night, and I'm really really sorry for overreacting—

He jerked a bit in the water, jolting him out of the rant he had begun to go on with his hands. He glared down into the water, and it was only then that you wondered what had happened to the second tail.

"Is that what you wanted to say?" you said, making him look up at you again. "If you need to go back home—I-I understand. You were a really great friend, Tamaki. I really liked you."

Tamaki shook his head, frantically waving his hands at you to stop. That wasn't it! I just, um, well, this isn't a goodbye. I wanted you to know—I've been thinking about it for a long time—I—I'm in love with you!

You blinked. Had you interpreted that correctly? He had just used a lot of signs you weren't familiar with. "What?!"

A little cloth bag was suddenly launched out of the water, splashing next to you and drenching a side of your skirt. You bent down to pick it up, watching as Tamaki's hands moved to scold his friend.

Mirio! She doesn't like it when you throw things at her!

You pulled at a drawstring that was keeping it closed. Inside was an assortment of shells, some of which the likes you'd never seen before.

"Are these for me?" you asked, clutching the dripping bag.

Tamaki nodded. If you'll accept them. Do you, by any chance, like me back?

You squinted at his hands. "I'm having a hard time understanding you," you said. "You've only been teaching me this for a week."

Tamaki stopped short, letting his hands fall back into the water. A sense of hopelessness began to wash over him. He didn't know how much you were able to understand. The distance between you frustrated him, and at that moment he would have given anything to be back in last night, with you pulled flush into his chest. If only, if only.

He punched his fist into the water, the resulting splash flecking him with a familiar wetness. So this was it. He had been so close, but you'd never know his true feelings. He may as well take his losses and turn to go now.

"Will I ever see you again?" you called, the expression on your face only describable as deeply sad.

He wanted to say yes. He wanted to say he'd always find a way to be with you. And yet, it couldn't be. You were from two very different worlds, and even now you were struggling to talk to each other. It would be best if he took the cold approach, steeling himself to never appear on your beaches again.

Tamaki was about to shake his head, sealing his answer when he noticed the grass on the shore part for a familiar figure.

"Gabriel!" you said, startling at his sudden presence. "Where did—how long have you—?"

"Princess, get out of the water."

You heeded his calm but firm voice, glancing back at Tamaki's head before gratefully stepping out of the cold sea that had been encasing your feet.

The burly man stood next to you, crossing his arms as he studied Tamaki from afar. "A merman," he stated. "So the legends are true."

You swallowed. "Please don't tell anyone. It's supposed to be a secret."

Gabriel nodded and held out a hand. "Don't worry about it, princess. Now what's going on between you?"

Tamaki had dared to drift a little closer, ears straining to catch words he faintly remembered the meanings of.

"He's leaving now," you said, casting your eyes to the sand. "I guess this is it."

Gabriel made eye contact with Tamaki. "You sure that's what you want to do? Because I have something that might change your mind."

You blinked, confused, looking up to see Gabriel fishing something out of a pocket on the front of his burgundy shirt. A thin cord was raised from the material, followed by a curious shell securely tied to the center.

"I found this little trinket washed up on the beach this morning. I knew it looked familiar."

Tamaki caught sight of the necklace, eagerly swimming forward.

"It's yours, isn't it? It was the only thing you were wearing when you washed ashore. I believe it belongs with you."

Tamaki finally gave into the waves pushing him to shore, surging towards you and Gabriel. This was his chance, the necklace wasn't lost after all! He could tell you how he felt and you could be together!

You watched as his form took greater detail with proximity. A long fishy tail more than half the length of his human torso powerfully pumped itself through the water. Iridescent indigo scales caught the light, ever changing between black and blue. Lighter, thin blue fins flared around the tail and from behind his ears. You couldn't help but think about how absolutely beautiful he was like this, in his original form.

It was then that it really registered for you that Tamaki was a merman. You'd believed him, and the stories of his undersea home only helped you to imagine him in this way, but it wasn't until you were actually able to see him like this that it clicked for you how smitten you had grown for this mythical creature, who existed, and was your new best friend.

He pulled himself onto the sand, dragging a once graceful tail heavily onto the beach. Gabriel placed the necklace into his outstretched webbed hand, and Tamaki went to lift it over his head.

"Wait!" Gabriel said suddenly.

Tamaki froze, looking to Gabriel uncertainly.

"That thing doesn't give you any pants!" he said, causing you to burst out laughing. "You can't be like that in front of the princess!"

Tamaki sheepishly lowered the cord. He had a point.

"Wait here, I'll go find you some." Your friend turned to sprint off, leaving the two of you alone together.

"Tamaki!" You knelt down and threw your arms around him, disregarding how cold and wet his skin was. "I was starting to think I was never going to see you again!"

He patted your back with shaky hands, having gone rigid at your sudden touch.

You pushed yourself back. "Look at you! You're an actual merman! That's crazy! Can I see your tail?"

Tamaki shuffled himself a bit, pulling it most of the rest of the way out of the water. He sincerely hoped that Gabriel would be back soon, otherwise he'd be in a bit of a predicament. His gills would stay moist for only so long.

You admired his scales, glistening with seawater in the afternoon sun. "Pretty," you murmured to yourself, eyes unashamedly scanning up and down his body. You studied the various fins and scales on his tail, marveling at how seamlessly he went from man to fish at the base of his torso.

Tamaki's first instinct was to hunch in on himself and be a touch embarrassed, but he couldn't help a sense of flattery at how your eyes scooped him in with such fascinated wonder. Remembering how the mermen back home would show off, he shifted so he could stretch out his tail a bit more, trying to gently flutter his caudal fins. The effect wasn't the same as it would have been underwater, but luckily he didn't look too much like a floppy dying fish.

"Can I touch it?" you asked, making Tamaki jump and go back to hunching in his shoulders. Typically, tail touches didn't occur among simple acquaintances; usually gentle affectionate rubs among close friends, and tender handsy touches during . . . those times. Thinking about it made Tamaki's entire face turn red, even as your face remained innocently curious.

He shakily nodded. What could it hurt? You gingerly brought your fingertips down onto his scales, finding them moist and cool and smooth. He was still a bit slippery, though you could tell he was beginning to suffer from the exposure to the dry air. The sensation of your fingers on his tail was foreign to Tamaki, and he found himself not wanting you to stop. You were so gentle, so tender, little jolts of electricity found themselves running all the way up to his spine.

A sudden whistle cut through the air, making both you and Tamaki jump. The merman turned, recognizing the pitch. A blond head had poked from the waves a few meters away, bobbing up and down as close as he dared.

Holy hagfish! he signed. You two work fast. On the beach, you're going to start that?!

Tamaki tensed, honestly having forgotten that Mirio was still there. How long had he been watching you?

You weren't quite certain as to what the blond was saying, but the way Tamaki's soul left his body and, if it were possible, his face turned even more brick red told you enough that you should probably stop touching him.

As if on cue, Gabriel saved you both by running back in with a pair of trousers. "For our guest," he said as he presented them to Tamaki.

You turned as he finally slipped the necklace over his head. The pain of transforming was over far faster than it had the first time, and within seconds he was standing and pulling the brown cloth onto himself.

"(Y/N)."

You turned back to him, seeing Tamaki standing before you again as a human. "Tamaki!" You pulled him into a second hug, letting his damp hair tickle against your cheek. Finally, he hugged you back, and the sensation was so warm and so fulfilling you never wanted it to end.

As always, the moment was ruined by your audience.

Two sets of hands clapped, one from the land, and one from the sea. You cracked open your eyes to look at Mirio, who motioned a sign which you didn't know the meaning of.

You pulled yourself from Tamaki. "Can I still understand you?" you asked.

"I hope so," he said, causing you to beam at him.

"So what were you trying to say out there? I couldn't see you that well."

"Oh." Tamaki looked at his bare feet, spotting the brown cloth bag that momentarily laid forgotten on the sand. He turned to glance at Mirio, who gave him a thumbs up, then looked at Gabriel. Tamaki knelt and grabbed the bag of shells, presenting it to you again. "I'm sorry this always ends in disaster for me," he began, letting you take it from him. "I just needed to get something off my chest."

"What is it?" you asked, wondering if he'd done all this just to say he was leaving you.

"Ever since I first saw you on the beach, I-I—I've liked you, (Y/N). And then I went on this crazy adventure to get myself in a position where we could meet and I could get to know you, and all that time, I-I just couldn't help myself. I'm falling in love with you, (Y/N), and I don't care if we're some of the most different people on the planet, I still want to be with you. I'm so sorry about that stunt I pulled last night and I know I messed up. I'm no prince or anything, but—please give me a chance."

Tamaki finally let himself meet your eyes. He hadn't expected to see your touched expression, looking upon his face like he was the sweetest, most caring person in your world.

"Of course, Tamaki. I'd be honored to court you." With that, you flung your arms around his neck and partook in the kiss you'd missed out upon the night before. Tamaki melted into your lips, his slightly salty taste mingling with your sweet.

The kiss didn't last long, but it spoke volumes. You pulled apart, cheeks glowing with rouge warmth as you took a final lingering look into each other's eyes.

Loud splashing made the two of you look back to Mirio, who was giddily celebrating with his own merman cheers. Tamaki smiled at his friend, glad to have had him at his side all this time, leading him to this very moment.

"Now, I have no idea what he just said," Gabriel began, making the two of you turn back to him. "But I'll assume he confessed his feelings, and now Brianne owes me a drink."

You and Tamaki chuckled, settling into a state of complete contentment.

"Now you two lovebirds best be getting back home," Gabriel continued. "The dance starts in an hour, and I suspect neither of you want to be late."

You gasped, having forgotten the welcome party that had been planned for the evening. "Come on!" you said, taking Tamaki's hand in yours. This time, there was an extra warmth behind it, and you took an additional second to twine your fingers around his. With that, you pulled him back along the beach toward home; Gabriel in tow from behind, Mirio still frisking along parallel in the ocean.

Tamaki couldn't wipe the grin off his face if he tried. Three weeks he had. Three weeks to be human, to fall deeper in love with you. It could never be enough time, but once it was up, he wouldn't rest until he found a way to spend the rest of his life with you. He pushed the gnawing worries down deep inside, letting excitement for the night course into his system instead. You and him and the town would dance under the stars, and no matter what, he'd give you the time of your life.

✤✤✤✤✤

Just as he'd expected, his three weeks flew by in a blur. He hid nothing from you, so it was a certain understanding quickly established that one day soon, he would have to go.

Taking the opportunity nevertheless, you spent those weeks well, hanging out in the chateau or wandering around the island. Tamaki never lost his curiosity for your world, and you were eager to show him everything you knew. He started to become familiar with some of the townsfolk, and even met a few sailors at the docks when they came. Tamaki also began to grow closer with your father, explaining after a few days that he was, in fact, a merman, and that, yes, you were dating him.

He seemed open to the idea, especially once he got to know Tamaki better. The king left you alone to bond when needed, and the two of you certainly did. News spread that you had found yourself a boyfriend, and everyone on the island agreed that you were cute together. Brianne was quickly let in on the secret that he was a merman, and she finally began to warm up to Tamaki.

Those three weeks were some of the best of his life; wandering the grassy plains with you and watching the clouds one day, holing up in your study for hours the next. You found excuse after excuse to kiss him, enjoying the way it made his cheeks flare with color. Every now and then though, he'd steal one from you, delighting in how the tables turned to make you flustered as well. Anything from hand holding to hugging fired his heart into a furious beat, savoring every moment he could hold you close as his own.

But all things must come to an end, and his mental tracker finally reached the number 29. You stood with your father, Gabriel, and Brianne on that expanse of open beach, solemnly watching as he waded further into the sea. You had given him a final hug and a kiss, and he whispered a promise into your ear that he would find a way back to you, and this one would be permanent.

Tamaki's body shuddered as waves slapped at his thighs, and he suddenly began to lose his footing. His pants slid off as his legs began to merge once more into a single appendage, familiar indigo scales scattering over his surface. He swam to Mirio, who had been waiting for him, giving a final wave over their shoulders. This was only a temporary goodbye, he would make sure of that.

After readjusting to being a merman for a bit, Mirio and Tamaki made their way south to visit Nejire, ready to return the now useless necklace. One long day of swimming later, they poked their heads into a familiar cave. Had it only been a month since they'd been here last?

Mirio swam straight in, confident as ever. He loudly clicked, calling for the mermaid. She glided out from an area in the back, lighting up at the sight of them.

"Hey, it's you guys!" Nejire pulled the boys into the back room, delightedly listening to Tamaki tell her everything she wanted to know about the human world.

Both she and Mirio fired off questions, nearly overwhelming him at some points. Eventually, they were satisfied, and Tamaki opened his bag to present the necklace back to its rightful owner.

"Sure sounds like you had fun!" Nejire signed, taking the necklace and putting it on a shelf behind her for safekeeping. "I'm definitely going to try it out sometime! I'm not sure if I'll go to that island. Maybe the mainland. Do you think I'd meet someone cute like you did? That would be so tragically romantic. I belong in the sea, though, isn't that right, Amajiki?"

"Actually," he began, "I was wondering if you had another option, something more permanent."

She stared at his stilled hands, then looked back at his face. "So that's what you want to do? Be human forever?"

Tamaki nodded. "I don't think I'll miss the ocean too much. I may not see Mirio every day, but we can still always talk every now and then. (Y/N) said that some of her other islands have calmer beaches that would be better for visiting with him."

Mirio nodded. It had taken him some time, but eventually he had grown to accept the fact that Tamaki preferred to be on land with you.

"You want to be human . . . ." Nejire mused, tapping against her lip for a moment.

"Is it possible? Can I do it?" Tamaki studied her face, allowing himself to hope it could be this simple. He had already accepted it was likely it wouldn't be, and he was more than prepared to journey through the merpeople empires around the world to find someone who could help him. But Nejire was a start, and it never hurt to ask.

Nejire's slightly pointed teeth made an appearance as she began to chew at her lip. "My mother . . . she was the last sea witch before me. She may be able to help you. She retired earlier this year and gave the shop to me, but I can go fetch her for you if you'd like."

Tamaki nodded vigorously and waited as she swam off. An hour later, she came back with a second mermaid in tow. She looked strikingly similar to her daughter, her hair just a few shades lighter. Tamaki assisted in explaining his situation to her, and she agreed to help.

"Normally I wouldn't want to be involved in breaking the laws," she said, "but it's their own fault for not enforcing them. I'll help you, little merman. You seem passionate about this human girl. I'll make you a brew, but just understand you won't be able to come back to the ocean."

"I know." Even if everything fell through with you, which Tamaki was certain it wouldn't, he was deeply intrigued with exploring the land and sea, witnessing the sights the earth had to offer.

"But mother," Nejire said, "don't potions have a tendency to not last long? I mean, once they go through one's system—"

"That's only for the amateurs." Nejire's mother grinned. "I know how to give lasting effects. Come along, there's much to be done!"

✤✤✤✤✤

You gazed out at the sea from your window, thinking about Tamaki. You were prepared to wait weeks—months even for his return, but even so you couldn't help but miss his presence. Your father kept you busy with your duties, yet every chance it got, your mind found itself wandering back to the timid mer-boy.

You hummed to yourself contentedly, glancing back down at your notes. You so happened to be studying some of the Greek legends; illustrations of gods and monsters decorating the margins of the page. You couldn't help but wonder if all of them were true, since you'd now met a merman for yourself.

Eventually you were able to settle back into your work, the distant sound of the ocean occasionally breezing into your ears as your pen scratched at your parchment. The story you were reading was interesting, so much so that you didn't hear your door creak open behind you, nor did you pick up on the footsteps that snuck up from over your shoulder.

A pair of pale, somewhat lanky arms gently wrapped around your shoulders. You jumped and spun, meeting two indigo blue eyes with your own (E/C). Raven hair fell over his nose and a small smile graced his handsome face. The face of the man you adored. The face of the man who would be yours forever.

"Hey, princess," he said. "I'm back."

...

The End.

くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡

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