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oddinary4bts · 2 months ago

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Sweet | ksj

☆request:

Congratulations on the milestone ! Can we get a Drabble of idol Jin coming back from the military and trying to sort out his situationship with the girl he left behind when he went into the military?

☆pairings: idol!Seokjin x female!reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: idol!au, a bit of angst, fluff and smut

☆warnings: unedited, cursing, explicit content: oral sex (female receiving), fingering, jerking off, protected sex (with mentions of unprotected sex), big dick!Jin

☆word count: 3.5k

☆a/n: i did not expect to write smut in this but here we are haha i hope you guys like this one! i had a lot of fun writing it <3

☆☆☆☆☆

It's so sweet, knowing that you love me Though we don't need to say it to each other, sweet Knowing that I love you, and running my fingers through your hair It's so sweet

Sweet - Cigarettes After Sex

☆☆☆☆☆

Seokjin hasn’t seen you in ages, his military service whisking him away from…

From whatever his relationship with you was. Not quite a relationship, but more than friendship, Seokjin thinks he was too immature a year and a half ago to understand you. But when you sent him a message two days ago to congratulate him for finishing his service, he figured he should see you.

If only so that he can give you the closure he never gave you. Because he practically ghosted you when he started his service, not replying to your messages after his obligatory training where he couldn’t touch his phone anyway.

He felt bad. Horrible even, but the distance seemed necessary after the words you last exchanged.

After you all but confessed your love for him.

It was too much too soon, or maybe he truly was just immature then. Because today, as his car is eating the miles to your apartment, he thinks maybe he was wrong. The heaviness in his chest makes it feel so, as does the rain battering his windshield.

Seokjin parks outside on the street in front of your building, glancing up to see the lights are on in your apartment. His hands turn clammy, and he rubs them on his jeans in a failed attempt to dry them.

It doesn’t work, because the second you’re buzzing him in, they become clammy again and he’s too anxious to even think about drying them again. The anxiety only keeps increasing as he climbs the stairs to the second floor, worrying at some skin on his bottom lip, and it reaches a never-seen-before high as he stops in front of your door.

He takes a deep breath to ease his nerves, thinking about the many times he was here before. That night after your first date - a blind date his friend set up for him - when you told him to come home with him.

He should have known then that it was setting your story in a way that wouldn’t end well for you, to go home with you that night.

Seokjin raises his fist, and he thinks his hand is shaking. He ignores it, pretends he’s as confident as always, and he knocks three times, lowering his hand as he waits for you to open. It doesn’t take you long - he wouldn’t be surprised if you were waiting on the other side of the door.

You’re… beautiful. You were back then, but the months apart have done you good, and Seokjin’s throat dries as he just looks at you, his lips parting on a silent vowel. You just stand there, shining like an angel as a small, shy smile lights your features, your eyes crinkling at the corners.

Seokjin doesn’t believe in love at first sight. Has never believed it, and though today may not be his first sight of you, it surely renders him speechless, his brain emptying until there’s just you.

“Hey,” you greet him, your voice like a melody conjured from a dream.

“Y/n,” he answers, and your name feels right, righter than anything before.

Your smile widens, and you step aside to let him in. He walks in, fully aware of how close your bodies are as you shut the door, but then you move back and he immediately misses your proximity.

What is wrong with him?

“How have you been?” you ask.

“Good,” he replies, swallowing. “Better now.”

He means the words. He means them more than he’s ever meant anything in his life, and he thinks you catch the meaning behind his sentence. Because blush creeps on your cheeks, and your gaze drops to the floor.

“What about you?” he quickly adds, not wanting you to feel embarrassed.

“I’m… good,” you answer, and you let out a small chuckle. “I didn’t think I would ever see you again.”

You’re direct. It’s something he’s always thought was admirable about you, but the revelation hurts, sending a pang through his chest.

“Y/n…” he trails off.

“But you’re here now,” you say, and your smile turns pained, sad.

How many sleepless nights has he caused you?

“I am,” he says, voice small. “I’m sorry.”

“I get it.” You shrug your shoulders. “You were busy with your service, it’s not like it was easy to maintain a…” You never finish the sentence, even though Seokjin waits patiently for you to say it.

For you to acknowledge that it was just a situationship, that maybe you both just played each other.

“I really am sorry, though,” Seokjin insists, looking down at his shoes. “You did not deserve that.”

You nod once, your gaze trailing to the side. “Then, can I ask… Why did you want to see me?”

His heart stops in his chest. He’s still struck by the sight of you, barely unable to form coherent sentences, but you deserve an explanation.

You deserve closure, if that’s what you want.

“I thought…” he trails off, wets his lips before continuing, “I thought you deserved closure.”

You take a deep breath. “I don’t think it’s necessary.”

He thinks you’re dismissing him. It feels like you are, like you’re telling him to leave, but he just stands there, drinking your features in.

Choking on the hurt he knows he’s caused.

“I really apologize, Y/n,” he adds, voice barely above a whisper. “You did not deserve the radio silence. I… I kind of thought it would be better for you, that you deserved better than being stuck with someone that was going to be gone for months.”

“You could have just said so…” you point out.

Seokjin sighs, his gaze dropping to the ground in shame. “I know. I was stupid, and I was immature too. Which is bad considering I’m in my thirties now but… yeah. I’m really sorry.”

You don’t say anything for a time, the silence getting heavier with every second passed. Seokjin meets your gaze, and he wonders if you can tell how guilty he’s been feeling. He thinks you might, because you wet your lips, glancing to the side, and then you say, “You came all the way here to say this?”

He nods. “You deserved better than a text message. When you texted me two days ago, it reminded me of all the good times we’ve spent together.” The truth comes to the surface, and Seokjin whispers it, afraid he’s going to scare you away. “I’ve missed you, Y/n.”

The world must have stopped turning. Time must have stopped, because you just stand there unblinkingly. He’s not sure you’re even breathing. But then slowly, like the first sun rays in the morning, a smile spreads on your lips.

You’re beautiful, too beautiful, and Seokjin can’t believe he got scared last year. He doesn’t think there’s anything scary about the woman standing in front of him.

“And you think I’ll just forgive you like this?” you ask even though you’re smiling.

It’s like a stab to the chest. His heart aches, and Seokjin doesn’t know what to reply. He’s aware he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness, but he wanted to give you his truth.

“I don’t think I deserve it, honestly,” he says. He gulps around a sudden lump in his throat, glancing around your apartment if only so that he can commit it to memory. “But I have missed you. I’ve felt guilty about it for months, but didn’t know how to approach you. Didn’t think you’d want me texting you out of the blue. I just… When you reached out, I just couldn’t let you go without at least having apologized.”

You nod, leaning against the wall as if your legs can’t support you anymore. “Thank you for apologizing.”

He reckons he’s losing you. Not that he really had you to begin with, but Seokjin thinks he’s losing you, and it hurts more than he ever thought it would.

“Of course.”

There’s another silence of lingering heaviness, and then you nod your head. Push up from the wall and walk in your apartment, sitting down on the couch. You offer him a small smile, patting the spot next to you.

“Come in,” you tell him. “Let’s catch up.”

He widens his gaze, not really believing what you just said. But then again, he knows you’re a forgiving person - he’ll make sure you don’t regret your decision.

And he doesn’t think you do. No, you spend the rest of the afternoon chatting, with you telling him all about your work and that annoying coworker that used to get on your nerves last year too. It’s easy, filled with smiles and laughs and reminiscing, and when you invite him for dinner, Seokjin decides to cook for you.

He doesn’t want you to lift a single finger for him, not when he wants to make it up to you. And he thinks he does, to a certain extent. You’re beaming by the time you’ve finished eating, telling him that you missed his food the most, and Seokjin complains that you only like him for his food. You just laugh it off, and then tell him that he’ll have to cook a thousand more meals for you.

Call him crazy, but he knows he will. He’ll cook every meal for you if that means he gets a chance with you again. One that he promises to himself that he won’t fuck up. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t make a move tonight - he tries to respect you, to respect the fact that you might need a bit of distance from him before you want to be with him like that again.

He thinks it was the right decision. He thinks it was worth the weeks of waiting before you kissed him for the first time again, in a different setting this time. At his own apartment, after you’ve had his Jajjangmyeon. You kiss softly, by the door, and Seokjin wonders if you can hear the wild beats of his heart in his chest.

You have to. Because you lay a hand on his chest right above his heart as you pull away from the kiss. You’re smiling, your cheeks slightly flushed as you look between his two eyes. And then you say, “I want you tonight.”

Seokjin doesn’t need to hear more. He cups your cheeks, stealing a languid kiss on your lips as you wrap your arms around his neck. Your fingers brush the strands of hair at the back of his head, and then you tug on them a little.

He grunts, pushing you back towards the door. He lifts you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist, bringing your heat dangerously close to his dick. He’s already getting hard, blood shooting down from his heart to his cock, and he grinds into you, swallowing the soft moan you let out.

A second later, you tease his bottom lip with your tongue, and Seokjin lets you in, getting drunk to the taste of you. He’s so high with the taste of you that his mind is elsewhere - he doesn’t know how you make it to his bed. All he knows is that, ten minutes later, you’re splayed out on his bed like his own personal feast, and the sight of your glistening pussy makes him go feral.

He kneels between your thighs, hooks your legs on his shoulders before leaning closer, lapping your juices up. You make a breathy sound he remembers from every night he couldn’t sleep during his military service, instead thinking about how much he missed you.

You taste good. You taste sweet and salty, a perfect mix to his senses that makes him forget everything else but you. He circles your clit with his tongue, teases the bundle of nerves before he goes back to your entrance, pushing his tongue in once. You moan, one hand finding his hair to tug at the strands, and you instinctively grind in his face. Seokjin flattens his tongue to let you do it, to let you seek friction on the wet muscle, and then he unleashes himself, eats you out like you’re his last meal on this Earth.

You’re panting already, alternating between mewls and moans by the time he pushes a finger inside of you, fighting against your already tightening walls. They relax when he sucks on your clit, and he takes it as an opportunity to push another finger in, curling his digits to hit the right spot inside of you.

After all, he knows he needs to stretch you out before he’ll be able to fuck you. You’re on the smaller side, and he’s… bigger than a lot of guys, so you do need the stretching. And he’s pleased to oblige, circling your clit, flicking it until your walls start spasming on his fingers. Not even a heartbeat later, you’re coming, his name on your lips in a sinful cry as he rides you through the orgasm, going feral with the sounds you make, and mostly with the taste of you.

His chin is covered with your juices by the time he sits back on his heels. He licks his fingers clean as you watch him through half-lidded eyes, and then he grabs his discarded shirt from the side - he barely remembers getting naked - to wipe his face dry.

You’re naked too. A literal goddess sent from above to grace him with your presence. You’re everything he could have ever wished for, and he still can’t understand how stupid he was last year.

To think he could have had you during the rare breaks from his service…

He was stupid. Stupid, foolish and everything in between, but at least he’s here with you now.

“Wow,” you let out, a small chuckle falling from your lips. You’re visibly fucked out, yet you still manage to rock his world as you reach for his dick, giving him a squeeze. “I want you.”

Shit.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as you start stroking him.

“So big…” He grunts at your crude words. “Yes, I’m sure. I’ve been thinking about sex with you for weeks, Jin.”

He looks around, searching for his pants. They’re over by the door, a lot farther away than he imagined they would be. It feels far, too far, considering he’s already nestled between your legs.

“What?” you let out, and you grip him tighter.

He feels it in his balls. He hasn’t had sex in forever - you being the last one before his service - so obviously he knows he won’t last. He’s so horny he thinks he’d be able to come all over your stomach if you keep jerking him off. But he stops you, gently wrapping his hand around yours to restrain your motions.

“Baby,” he breathes out. “Shit, let me grab a condom.”

“You don’t want to fuck me raw?” you tease, biting at your lower lip. “I haven’t had sex with anyone since you.”

The words please him far more than he thought they would. It feels like, maybe, you were his all this time too.

He says your name like a warning, but you only smirk mischievously.

“Afraid I’ll get pregnant?” you add. “Don’t you think we’d make pretty babies?”

You would. He knows damn well you would and it wouldn’t even be because of him. It’d be all you - your beauty is incomparable.

“As much as I want to get you pregnant one day,” Seokjin replies, moving away from you. He misses your hand on him the second you let go, but it’s for the best. “I don’t think we are there yet,” he continues. “But I promise I’ll fuck babies into you one day.”

You close your thighs instinctively at his words as if you’re still searching for friction.

As if you didn’t come on his tongue just a minute ago.

It doesn’t take Seokjin a long time before he’s put a condom on, discarding the package in the trash can next to your bed. You’ve just been watching him, and he kneels back between your legs, his balls already tightening in anticipation.

He rubs his tip on your folds, collecting the glistening juice. Your mouth falls open on a silent moan, especially as he moves to your clit. One of your legs twitches from oversensitivity, or at least he assumes it’s because of that, and he aligns himself with your entrance.

“Let me know if it hurts,” he tells you.

“Don’t you remember how well I could-”

Your words are cut short as Seokjin pushes in, your walls sucking him in slowly and surely until he bottoms out, some of his dick still sticking out of you. You just look at him, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, and Seokjin licks his lips, saying, “You were saying?”

“I’ve missed this.”

Your words ring in his mind, on and on, erasing everything that he is to build him anew, to build him in a way that finally allows him to be with you. His heart fills with warmth, exploding like fireworks, and he bends down to capture your lips in a kiss that means more than words ever could.

He doesn’t move for a while, warming his cock in you while he just keeps on kissing you, not even stopping for breathing. It’s like he doesn’t need it - hell, he thinks all he needs is you. And you kiss him back with so much passion he thinks this is it, he’s reached nirvana.

The feeling perseveres as he slowly pulls his hips back, before pushing forward again, the motion making his entire body tingle with pleasure. He swallows your soft moan, grunts in your mouth as your pussy clenches on him. Your hands are on his back, in his hair, and the second you pull on the strands again, he lifts his head, meeting your gaze.

“You feel so good,” you praise, eyes sparkling.

He smiles softly, pecking your forehead, and then he kneels back to take in the sight of you as he slowly fucks into you, spearing you open. The sight of your pussy swallowing his dick is indecent in the best way, and he progressively increases the rhythm, making sure not to hurt you.

He wouldn’t forgive himself if he did. So he fucks you gently, faster and faster but never hard, not until your hands find his thighs, your nails digging into his skin. He grunts then, swearing underneath his breath, and then says, “I really don’t want to hurt you.”

“Jin, it’s okay,” you let out. You smile, wetting your lips. “Just fuck me.”

He lets out what could be considered as a whine, and then his motions grow rougher. He stops himself after a few thrusts, and you meet his gaze, looking slightly annoyed that he stopped.

“You have to tell me if it hurts, okay?” he says as he cups your cheek.

You smile softly, nodding once. “I will, I promise.”

Once the reassurance is finally uttered, Seokjin finally lets himself go, fucking you like his life depends on it. You’re soon moaning loudly, and he has half a thought that his neighbours might hear. But then again it turns him on even more to know he’s the one making you scream like that, and he’s soon moaning with you, praising you as he slowly feels his climax nearing.

But he wants you closer when he comes. Wants to feel you in his arms, to feel his skin on yours. So he leans forward again, caging you between his arms as he keeps fucking you into the mattress. Your nails soon scratch at his back, leaving marks he knows he’ll have to hide but can’t bring himself to care about.

“Fuck, Jin,” you moan, and his head drops in the crook of your neck.

“I’m going to come,” he says, and you wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close as the high finally hits him, and he releases loads and loads of cum in the condom.

He thinks he’s floating. He’s just a leaf floating away on a small lake, unbothered by the world. His whole body feels so light, and the only thing tethering him to the present is your arms around his neck.

He’s never come this hard before.

“You okay?” you ask as you rub his back.

He grunts, trying to lift his head but failing. “Holy shit.”

You laugh lightly, and the crystalline sound is what finally brings him back down to Earth, what has to be minutes later.

“Wow.” He chuckles, pecks your lips. “That was amazing.”

You smile, your fingers drawing idle shapes on his back. “It was.”

Seokjin meets your gaze, taking a moment to observe the feelings swirling behind your irises, deep in the depths of your eyes. The emotions are like northern lights, swishing and shining and more beautiful than anything he’s ever seen before.

This time, Seokjin doesn’t get scared. This time, he takes the emotions in, knowing that they are reflected in his own gaze. And though you haven’t told it to each other, he knows that you love him.

And more than that, he knows that he loves you, too.

☆☆☆☆☆

hope you guys liked it:) let me know what you think about this one shot! love y'all <3

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kozachenko · 4 months ago

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[Click for better quality]

Ok yay I'm back from my vacation yipeeeeeee. I started this drawing of Keiki before I left and I was half considering just giving up on it.... until I did a short study of facial planes and then got motivated to work on this again! I'm glad I didn't give up on it though, as I'm actually really happy with this one!

Artist's Notes;

So as I mentioned in my last post about Touhou 17, I wanted to finish this by the game's five year anniversary but with how progress was going I didn't want to rush this so I decided to take a long break from it. Mainly because of the face. For a while now I was kind of feeling like I was stagnating with my drawings, not really in the clothing but in the bodies. There was something about the way I was rendering them that I just wasn't happy with, and after talking with someone else about this issue, I realized that the reason I felt this way was because the faces were too flat and didn't match the rest of the drawing and that I needed to find a way to make the rendering of the face feel consistent with everything else. So after doing a short study of the plains of the face (I used this 3D head model from art station as a reference for my short study, please go give this person some love as they are a lifesaver) I went back into this drawing and applied what I learned here. It was only after that that I finally became motivated to finish the piece, and while it started off as just a simple character sketch like Saki and Yachie's were, the moment I added in Keiki's little fire dragon I knew I had gotten in too deep and now here we are with a full on background. OK it's not super crazy or anything, but it gets the job done and it's better than there just being an empty void behind her. It's rare moments like this when I use brushes other than the Clip Studio Default Charcoal Brush and use the Clip Studio Default Paint Brushes as well (god bless the oil paint and dry gouache clip studio brushes, they were amazing). I don't know why but painting fire has always been really fun for me, there's something oddly satisfying about it y'know? I do think that another reason for this problem was because I was drawing faces like I would in my more sketchy style that didn't mesh well with my lineless style, so I'm glad I've started remedying that.

After adding in the fire dragon I had an idea to kinda make it feel like splash art in the way the composition works... probably because I have been playing Reverse 1999 again and it has taken over my brain. I do feel like Keiki's tools get a little lost in the composition, and I didn't fully render the metal parts of them mainly because I didn't feel like they needed it, but that's just something for me to improve on later down the line.

If you guys are wondering where I went for my vacation, I went to New York and got to go to the MET and the Museum of Natural History. In both places I found Kofun period stuff and I was so happy to see it you have no idea. I remember one of the Haniwa I saw had some neat face paint under the eyes that I tried to replicate with the makeup under Keiki's eyes in my drawing, though I think I'll gave to figure out how to draw makeup on characters because this reads more like blush to me than anything. While drawing this I also looked up some references of Kofun period jewelry and really liked the stuff I found, which also meant that now she has proper Kofun earrings instead of earrings shaped like Kofun tombs. I put some of the things I referenced with a closeup of Keiki's face as well down below. I made her outfit more reminiscent of the outfit I gave her at the beginning of the year with the buttons and all, though I do want to try and draw her in some more period accurate clothing like the Haniwa I took a picture of at the Museum of Natural History. I wish I could find a way to make her handercheif look better though as I wish I made it a little bit bigger, though I think I'm saying this because I've looked at this drawing for too long lmao. Once again something to work on for when I next draw her. Also want to get better at rendering hair, as some details (like the little strands in front of her ears) kinda got unreadable due to the similarities in colour lol.

Now you may have also noticed the little cracks I added onto Keiki's face, and that's because I have fallen in love with the idea of Keiki's body being made from ceramic and that she crafted her body herself. While they aren't very visible I also tried to add some doll joints to her body, which is an idea I played around with in the past but never went to far with. I also want to get better at rendering cracks in ceramic, porcelain, etc, as I'm not sure how those read in the drawing. I also have a headcanon where the cracks in Keiki's face show up because of heightened emotions, and while Keiki is aware of this and does her best to make sure her face doesn't break off.... she will still end up with at least a few cracks during any given day, and she can often forget to repair her own body quite frequently so Mayumi has to remind her quite a lot. Mayumi even taught herself some basic sculpting techniques to help repair parts of her body that are so badly damaged to the point where Keiki can't repair them herself, i.e. if both her arms broke off, Mayumi would put them back together for her so Keiki can at least have something to repair herself with rather than nothing. I also like to imagine that if Keiki created her own body, if you took a look at Keiki from the beginning of her life she would look completely different compared to now.

BTW If you guys are wondering what a very very angry Keiki looks like....ok in order for this to make sense have any of you read volume 11 of Land of The Lustrous? Am I bringing back some memories for those of you that have? Ok good, glad we all got that mental image brewing in our minds, I'll probably draw a version of Keiki that is somewhat inspired by that one day as it's an idea I've had for a little while now. And to those who haven't gotten to that volume yet and are confused.... don't worry about it, just keep reading :)

#touhou project #art #fanart #touhou fanart #touhou 17 #keiki haniyasushin #wily beast and weakest creature #touhou #東方project #own art

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fumifooms · 1 year ago

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Chilchuck’s wife and family - Facts, theories and headcanons

I want to keep this as a sort of masterpost on Chil’s family situation if I can, but if we get a lot of information on it (in the additional content that Kui is gonna make) that renders this more or less useless I probably won’t update this anymore. If you find other crumbs of information or I've said anything factually incorrect please do tell me! I'm planning to edit this as we go since I want to compile most if not all of the information and pages we get about this topic on here, and if I just wait to post it perfection paralysis will nip this in the bud. It focuses a lot on Chilchuck and Chilchuck's wife relationships, but the daughters and Chilchuck's own parents and siblings are talked about as well.

CW/disclaimer: This post talks about messy family dynamics and such, there’s no outright abuse I’m implying anywhere, but alcoholism and neglect are mentioned and discussed. I’m not here to demonize anyone! I love every character involved and I just want to theorize about the topic as a layered issue that involves complex characters. Also, I try to use very transparent language as to when I’m citing or analyzing canon information and when I’m giving a personal interpretation or headcanoning.

Abbreviated table of content:

Timeline and circumstances

Possible strains on the marriage

The hair question. Confirmation on what his wife looks like?

Other family dynamic & post-canon theories & headcanons

Parenting style + misc in a reblog addition (new)

Let’s start with the facts, shall we?

Timeline and circumstances

So, we see that Chilchuck and his wife are childhood friends, and they married at 13 years old and had two children in that same year. Since half-foots reach the age of maturity at 14, they seem to be what we'd call teen parents. It's a bit debatable though, since Laios says the age of maturity for tallmen (humans) is 16 instead of 18 or even 21, so what's considered to be the age of maturity is a cultural thing and isn't fully reliable when we want to compare to our irl understanding and what developmental stage it perfectly aligns with. Also, during the succubus chapter Chichuck says that his daughters were all now of age to be independent, and Chilchuck's wife leaves to live with Flertom, which would mean that Puckpatti was independent at age 10 and lived away from home as well (since she's the third/last daughter). Ah yes another interesting thing to note is that we don’t know the pregnancy periods for the races, since Meijack and Flertom were born the same year. It could be tight timing or it could be something else, but I don’t think they’re twins, they keep talking about them being the oldest and the middle child, them being twins is definitely the sort of thing that would get mentioned.

Him starting working on the island notably happens just one year before his wife leaves him. I don't remember the other instances of him mentioning it though I feel like it happened, but since he started working at the Island's dungeon, working as a dungeon diver and then forming the half-foot guild, that probably means he started being away for longer periods of time and having a less reliable schedule on when he'd be coming back home. It is said that he went back home somewhat regularly iirc, though he usually ends up sleeping at the half-foot guild quarters. I'm not sure if Kahka Brud is also where he lived with his family, or just since he rented someplace new after she left him. He and his timeline state that he was born in a small village "northeast of the island", which he left at 14 one year after being married, but it isn’t stated where they go after so it’s unsure how far his home was from the island if it wasn’t in Kahka Brud. We don’t know when his father died so if that factors in to him leaving his village we have no clue.

Chil also says that he hasn’t seen or spoken with his wife nor daughters since the incident, which would mean he's gone 4 years without contact with his family during the events of canon. I don't remember if Chilchuck is said to exchange letters with his daughters, beyond the initial one from Flertom saying her mother was with her, so I've been assuming he hasn't.

He also says "For about ten years I’ve been travelling to dungeons in various areas and doing work" which considering he’s turning 29 that year would mean he started around 19 years old? The panel also gives details what sort of work he’s been doing. Either way it’s confirmed that Chilchuck travels for his work a lot.

In addition, since Chilchuck has the seal of approval of the bicorn + says so himself, he has always stayed faithful to his wife. So that means that unless he's had previous adventures before he was 14 and got married, he's never dated anyone else in his life, nor had romantic or sexual encounters/experiences with others in his 16 years of marriage right up to canon (year 514). I feel it’s safe to say that it’s implied that during all these years starting from when they were married, Chilchuck's wife was a housewife whose main job was taking care of the kids and the house.

Marcille's take on what happened is unreliable, as Kui even takes the time to directly say so in the Adventurer's Bible, so I don't want to use it as a baseline even if it offers some insight on what could have happened (her feeling out of place, leaving to test his love, etc etc).

What Chilchuck says seems to be accurate though since it pertains to his perspective of the events! Unlike how Marcille's theory flows, Chilchuck was aware that something was off before she left since she "suddenly fell into a bad mood".

Piecing everything together, my theory: Chilchuck and his wife were childhood friends and have always always sort of danced around of each other, the classic movie love story with childhood sweethearts, until they ultimately confessed and got together. While dating, Chilchuck's wife becomes pregnant and they're both unequiped to deal with the situation but decide to marry, either a bit forced in order to cover it up or hopeful to make the best of it. They make it work as they can and Chilchuck works to provide for the family while she takes care of the home and the kids, which means that even though he's not a deadbeat father (he cares, he was at least a bit involved in their lives and raising them since for example he knows how to braid hair after all) he ends up being rather absent from home. It only gets worse over the years, especially when Chilchuck starts working further and further away from home and coming home less often, and since Puckpatti left home Chilchuck's wife is alone at home most of the time, never knowing when Chilchuck would be coming and if to prepare the table for two instead of one, or even if he'd be coming back at all since his work is dangerous. The humdrum and lifestyle would get to her, they've grown into different people in these 10 years of marriage and she doesn't feel the spark or feels valued & seen anymore, so she leaves. He feels confused and betrayed which turns into anger so he doesn’t try to reach out and mend things, and with the way he says they’re estranged and he moves away I think he’s avoiding his family somewhat.

Possible strains on the marriage

Tfw all your daughters are independent and your husband is gone to work almost all the time and he barely even tells you that he loves you, is there even a reason to stay together anymore? Every day it’s just you and an empty house and chores to do, wondering if you have to cook for one or for two today.

Alright it’s analysis and theorizing time! Although there are more facts down in this post if you care about Chilchuck's wife's appearajce, Chilchuck's parents & siblings or the kids, the essential facts so to speak were all in the first part.

We don't see Chilchuck showing any discontent with his wife through the manga so I'm assuming that he was content in his marriage, happy with his wife, and with how he stayed faithful to her even in the 4 years after she left (and never stopped calling her his wife. Which also shows a weird stubborn attitude since he wasn’t planning on reaching out to her and mend things but I’ll put aside the possible entitlement/coping mechanism for another time) I think he truly loved her and still does. Since she left him and not the reverse, I'm putting a lot of emphasis on his wife's side of things. Especially since we do see how Chilchuck is at work quite a bit but never see how he is at home. I’ll be sounding harsh towards Chil on this but he’s pretty much the only party we can criticize since we don’t know her, I still side with Chil on the leaving issue though, he’s justifiably pissed if she left without a word what the hell even.

Alcoholism and health

Chilchuck’s favorite food as listed in the Adventurer’s Bible is beer, and it’s shown that he’s prone to drinking until drunk whenever he gets the opportunity to. A cheerful drunk is still a drunk. (Extra reading: if interested here's a oneshot FMA fanfic by a friend that goes in depth about this very topic that really illustrates what sort of family dynamic that can bring about. It’s not dunmeshi but it’s a good read.) Chilchuck is also canonically underweight, starving himself for a strict weight management diet (Extra reading: you can look at a short compilation post about that here). Did you know under eating makes one irritable? And this is on top of Chilchuck sometimes/regularly coming back home with "horrible injuries", since Marcille guesses it and he acts like she’s dead right on everything that far.

It’s rough seeing someone you love mistreat themselves, not being able to shake them out of that and having to stay to see them wasting away. It’s rough seeing them put their work above their own health. Putting their work even above their family. Putting alcohol over family time. It's not that simple, but there's always that element when asking someone you love to tone it down with things like alcohol or such, that if they refuse, then it feels like they value that thing more than they value your feelings or opinions. That they love alcohol more than they love you.

You know how there’s often this thing of "Well I’m providing everything for this family, so whatever else that I do you don’t get to complain." I do think that it’s something they’d have argued over a little bit, not that he’d say it that way, but the essence of it. "Chilchuck, you’re drinking a lot of alcohol often, I’m worried maybe you should ease up on it." "This is what I want to do in my free time, give me a break.", "Dear, your mood gets worse when you’re hungry, I really think you should stop dieting-" "Would you rather I die in a trap because I was too heavy?", "Honey I don’t like when you work so far away from home for so long" "Well what else can I do, do you have any better idea?". That sort of thing. Even if not being passive agressive or snappy, or even spoken upon, these situations can cause tension, or a feeling of powerlessness or imbalance in the relationship. Although I personally feel like they were both rather passive in their relationship (thus having little arguments), which itself can be a problem since yes they let each other live but they grew more distant and less communicative as a result, more on that later. Content and tolerating, rather than happy and fulfilled.

Workaholism and long distance

Spending a lot (or even a majority?) of time away from home for years and years obviously can strain relationships in many ways. Besides becoming more distant, both with his wife and his daughters, there's just that side that maybe you grow apart or you end up not knowing them all that well. Like the fictional dialogue excerpts I wrote just above, the way Chilchuck puts work above most things can by itself be the source of a lot of unhealthy habits and strains that could not only hurt himself but his relationships too. Devoted doesn’t mean attentive, even if Chilchuck 100% devotes himself to only her romantically and works in the goal to support her that doesn’t transfer into being there for her, even when he physically is.

An absent father isn't necessarily a deadbeat father, but an absent father is absent. And alright, we don’t know what his schedule was like exactly, but he was busy and traveled around, I think it’s fair to assume that if we were to make comparisons it’d be like parents irl who are often on work trips. We don't know what Chilchuck's wife's social circle is like, but regardless of how big or small or supportive it is it would be easy to get lonely I think. Besides raising the kids undoubtedly falling more onto her shoulders as well. Managing a household can be very hard and tiring even when not alone, I can imagine she felt like she missed the support of Chilchuck either as help or comfort oftentimes. We know very little about her, but I don't get the impression that she'd build up resentment over it except maybe her ‘falling into a bad mood’, but exhaustion? Absolutely.

It’s also implied imo, even beyond Chil not often being at home, that they rarely go out together. And that could very well be part of why she was mad after the outing. In Marcille’s theory she says that her wife felt out of place amongst all the cool adventurer coworkers, and if it’s a rare time that they go out together and it was supposed to be about her meeting his coworkers… I feel like what could have happened was that she felt out of place yes, and even moreso if she ended up not participating in conversations much because of it and no one really seemed to care, and the evening was all Chilchuck and his coworkers chatting it up as always and she was an outsider, if she sort of just faded into the background, if it felt like nothing would have changed wether she was there or not... If she felt like her presence didn’t matter on this special outing that rarely happened, it could have been the straw that broke the camel’s back for her to want to leave, definitely. He finally comes back after a long work travel and they finally go out and this is what their quality time is like? The outing that was supposed to be about her & them both ended up being all about him, and once more she was supposed to just orbit around him and his life without complaint or her own selfish wants like a devoted wife. With how Chil said that she got mad "all of a sudden" on the way home and he didn’t know why, plus that he was probably drunk (which may very well have made the whole thing worse), I feel like it supports that he didn’t pay her much attention during the evening, not that I’m assigning him ill intent at all, I’m sure that for him, it was a casual and fun night out and he didn’t think it'd been unpleasant or alienating for her.

That night

And all of this speculation in order to try and figure… What happened? Why did she leave? I've already gone into it a fair bit, but this is where I discuss it fully in depth.

We can’t rely on Marcille’s theory. Neither in the why she felt so out of place enough to want to leave, nor if her intention when leaving was to "test" him. I definitely agree that the reason why she left is layered and that the night/outing was the straw that broke the camel’s back more than the cause perse, but besides that it’s hard to say how much of it was impulsive and how much was because nothing else had worked to fix their relationship, or how long she'd been thinking of maybe leaving him.

Personally my favorite interpretation isn't that she found herself to be boring surrounded with Chilchuck's adventurer coworkers, or her reason for leaving is super centered around insecurity and if Chilchuck even loves her anymore, but that she sees how rich and eventful Chilchuck's life is and at the same time realizes how stagnant her own life has been. Chilchuck has adventurers for coworkers and they go out to bars and spend evenings together chatting it up, while she always does the same house chores every day and waits, and wonders, uncertain about when her huband would come back, and waits some more. She has a sort of passive role in her own life that gets pulled in one way or another by the people around her at their whims and needs, which is also a recurring theme in the manga: having a passive role in your own life, or a role that's devoted to others. Like with Falin who's always following her parents' directives or following Laios around, being the party's healer and eventually sacrificing herself for Laios and Marcille (she also doesn't seem to think much of marriage, as seen with Shuro proposing to her and her not having answered yet, which fits with how she was supposed to have an arranged marriage in her hometown too; a loveless marriage isn't something alarming to her). Izutsumi too, whose whole arc is about her gaining freedom and figuring out how to use this empowerment for herself and what she wants.

So she'd sit there, not knowing anyone except Chilchuck and not being able to follow their conversations about dungeons, and think about how this is a world she's totally apart from. How she knows so little of the world compared to him. She'd realize that while she's always waiting for Chilchuck to come home, dedicated to him and their family, Chilchuck's world doesn't stop and end at where and when he sees her, that while she's waiting he's living and experiencing things and being self-fulfilled. She's so passive and devoted and her tasks seem almost senseless now that the house is empty except for her, and in that time he's formed half-foot unions and she understands so little of what his life has become outside of her sight. This isn't a diss on Chilchuck or his attitude, I just think that it'd make her ponder about happiness and lifestyles, what's worth it and if she's content with her life. I think she'd find that her and Chilchuck aren't on the same page anymore, and probably they don't communicate much or even that they don't know how to communicate with each other anymore.

Other factors

They really do seem to be on different pages and not know how to communicate with each other well, since for example Chilchuck thinks that on the way back home she "suddenly" fell into a bad mood and seemingly left it alone, or otherwise they didn't talk until he knew what was wrong. Or like how she left and Chilchuck never reached out to her to talk or mend things, just like she never reached out either. According to Marcille it could be that she wanted to "test his love" and see if he'd even care if she was gone, but Chilchuck just got angry that she left like that and never reached out to her, so if that's true they definitely have incompatible expectations or ways to deal with things like that. Maybe she thought of leaving as something he should react to by trying to win her back, but Chilchuck did nothing and let her do her thing, and tbh if that were me I'd also have waited on her to reach out because I figure out that if someone leaves me they want space from me idk. He seems to be rather passive when it comes to interpersonal relationships and how they can mess up, made an analysis post here that talks about it, so the way he reacted by not reacting doesn't feel surprising, maybe she didn't know/remember that part of him, or wanted to shake him out of that tendency. He has no clue why she left, and there are just so many misunderstandings here that it's impossible to know what happened and how she felt and what she wanted for the future.

Also, we’re shown that younger Chilchuck, when he started dungeon crawling, is much more "innocent" and optimistic, less closed off on himself and bitter, and maybe he hasn't even developed his famous "sarcastic retorts" and "abusive remarks" yet as is plastered on all his character introductions and stats. Chilchuck has definitely changed a lot over the years, and some would argue not for the better. Staying with someone for so long has implications that they'll change and be different of course, but signing up for marriage with someone can still leave you questioning that choice decades down the line when they're so different

We get to see his freckles fade in sync with his corruption arc /j

Tfw when you can’t recognize the man you fell in love with.

The hair question

Edit 1/13/2024 leak!!!! Things aren’t officially confirmed but this is a safe bet. You can still read this section to see my reasoning to thinking she had black hair prior to this tho haha

It's not all that important rationally, but the community's been split on the topic: is Chilchuck's wife blonde or not?

Kui highlights Chilchuck being attracted to blondes a grand total of three times, and many assume that his wife is blonde due to this. However, the only vision we see of Chilchuck's wife is Marcille imagining herself as a halfling, so it's up for debate! Flertom has black hair, and that's mostly been the key clue that has people arguing.

I'm not an expert in genetics but black hair is a dominant gene, but it also doesn't mean a black haired parent can't have a brown haired kid, or that two brown haired parents can't have a kid with black hair. As long as one of the parents have it in their genetic code from somewhere in their family tree, it's possible, if not maybe unlikely.

People have been taking Flertom having black hair as evidence that Chilchuck's wife has black hair, but it could be Chilchuck that has the gene and could pass it on. Although...

That seems unlikely. We don't know what Chilchuck's elder brother's hair color was, and his elder sister does have a darker brown hair color, but in the case their parents had black hair or the gene for it, it seems highly unlikely if not impossible for the dominant black hair gene to miss this many amount of time in the gene russian roulette game.

And so I shall now call a witness to the stand, and you reader shall be the judge… Dandan.

You know, this guy? He makes appearances throughout the whole manga, but only has one spoken line in an easy to brush over flashback iirc. He's most often seen hanging out around Chilchuck and other half-foots, but it's unsure how far back he and Chilchuck go.

Now. Remember how Chilchuck and his wife are childhood friends? What if, and hear me out, what if Dandan is related to her. A cousin, or a sibling. Or maybe he's Chilchuck's cousin, even, if we go the reverse route.

The chapter cover

Look at the chapter cover below! We see each member of the main party at a table that's meaningful to them and their history, mostly showing themes of family, community and routine. Laios and Falin sharing a meal by themselves, Marcille at a meal in the cafeteria at the magic academy, Senshi by himself cooking in the dungeon, Izutsumi with Inutade at the Nakamoto household, and... Chilchuck, surrounded by much more mysterious and unknown characters and surroundings.

The only face we see besides the infant is a young one on the left which strikes me as looking a ton like Chilchuck! I doubt it's Meijack or Puckpatti, or someone else, especially since Chilchuck left his hometown pretty early which must make family gatherings harder (and routine is implied with the others’ panels). If it were Meijack I think Kui would have drawn it to more closely match her too, and have her usual freckles. I also don't think it's just Chilchuck and his own family, since if that's Chilchuck the only sibling with black hair he could have is his elder brother and the infant in the middle is clearly, well an infant.

My thoughts are that the table is shared with family friends, or at least members of the community. The elderly person implies that either there's extended family or it’s a gathering, especially if Chilchuck's grandparents don't live with them. Community is implied to be very important with half-foots imo, and if Chilchuck is from a small hometown like he says that would surprise me even less. Childhood friends are often brought together as friends because of circumstances, such as proximity or their families being friends! Doesn't that kid almost off-panel on the right, with a Flertom-like hairstyle and black hair, look to be the same age as the Chilchuck on the left? 👀

Also… Notice the dragon plush she’s holding?

Passed down from mom to daughter? The "most likely belonged to his daughters" is interesting too

If he is related, Dandan could be the infant. I suppose he doesn't end up mattering all that much in the end if you theorize that the Flertom-like kid is his wife on its own though haha. But wether or not you think that this is convincing enough, it's all we have on the topic for now.

Ah yes! Lastly, I've seen the sentiment around that his wife should be blonde, that Chilchuck's taste for blondes, if not the thing that brought them together, should be an acquired taste from loving his wife. That if that's not the case, then Chilchuck's type being blondes is either out of place or insuting or unromantic, etc etc. I can't help but disagree! I think, especially with how Chilchuck and his wife are domestic and all about knowing each from a young age, familiarity etc etc, that it would be so sweet if she wasn't his type! Loving someone so deeply, even if they aren't an idealized type... Which is a common theme/story & character beat in Dungeon Meshi.

Family dynamic theories

Meijack is the most capable, takes after her father the most, seems to have her own business as a locksmith but has a stable steady life. Flertom is the most social, she works at a tavern which seems stable and is ambitious with marriage plans, she has a caring side to her since she sent her dad a handmade gift. Puckpatti is the most upbeat, though she has the most unstable lifestyle, seemingly doing odd jobs.

His daughters do seem well adjusted, which encourages me in that their family seems amicable on the whole and (at the very least) decently functional. We don’t hear what they think of Chilchuck but presumably none of them are on bad terms with him or each other. Flertom does say that "half-foot men are stingy" which, gee, I wonder what half-foot man would have made taught her that- though it does also seem to be a racial stereotype in general, with how for example Namari also says to "steer clear from stores with half-foot clerks".

Flertom seems to be the only one who reached out after their mother left (the only one who's mentioned to have done so at least), and it's because she was the one who took in her mother. It’s not implied that they exchange letters regularly too iirc, it possibly was the only letter they've exchanged since then. I wonder if the daughters even know the full story, if their mother told them all about it or very little. Maybe some are pretty out of the loop, or more distant.

It strikes me that they don't seem to be very close. We're not shown anything that leads us to believe they don't like their father, but I think they're so used to him being absent for work that such distance is normal for them and they don't really long for a deeper relationship or to see him often. They were already out of the house and it seems like they didn't see each other much at that time either so for them it would be just a bit less than the regular amount of Dad time. It's been 4 years Chilchuck what are you doing... But yeah! From what we see they seem mostly unaffected, almost indifferent, not that we can truly tell. I imagine Flertom is the one most attached to Chilchuck with how she sent him a handmade cowl, and I think he rubbed off the most on Meijack teachings wise (besides her attitude, she’s also the one who still wears braids, and we see that Chilchuck braids hair). It makes sense, since they're oldest, and on the contrary I think Puckpatti is the one that knows her father the least. It'd fit the timeline with him working away more while she grew up imo.

Wouldn't it be interesting then that she's the one that Chilchuck says is carefree, in the official translation "doesn't treat life real seriously"? That she's the most optimistic, the most go-with-the-flow, out of the bunch? To me that sounds like a result from her being the youngest and Chil being the most often at work, thus her getting raised by her mother without as much involvement from Chil. Far be it from me to say Chilchuck would raise his daughters to be unhappy btw, not at all, we just all know what down-to-earth values he wants others to have so he doesn't have to worry about them.

Although… Puckpatti spotted?? Seems like he wants to stop her from buying something? His heart meter for her is full <3 (Note: I’ve seen it be argued that this could be his wife. I disagree, since the "stop them" and way that the long haired one is off-center compared to everyone else gives the sense that it’s many of his daughters, and the fact that it’s styled after a dating sim doesn’t mean it’s romantic love as we see with the others. Otherwise imagine being her wife and he tells you not to buy stuff when you go shopping together rip)

Headcanons time:

When naming the daughters, together they choose a pool of names they’d like but only one has the final say, and they alternate between who that is. Chilchuck sticks around more near the end of her pregnancies, and he hasn’t missed any of their births. I don’t have any opinions on who named who right now, but there could be some interesting stuff to theorize with Puckpatti, like them taking extra care picking the name together because they settled on her being their last daughter for fluff, or it was supposed to be Chilchuck but he was so busy that he ended up not picking in time and she was the one to name her for angst.

Actually scratch that I have a new theory : What if it’s actually customary for each parent to pick one half of their half-foot kid’s name? So then each would have chosen half of each girl’s name… And this could be why Chil calls Puckpatti Patti instead of Puck which is her first name, because he’s stubborn since Patti was his pick lmaoooo. Pattipuck doesn’t have the same ring to it alas, his wife was so right

Chilchuck liked to do activities with the girls when they were young. He's not opposed to relaxing at home with them perse, but he likes to do workshops with stuff like arts & crafts to develop their agility some. I don't think they'd do much outings to places like restaurants or theatres for money reason, and I don't think Chilchuck is much of an outdoors type, but he could accompany them to nice fields to play in, or in winter places to play in snow and sled, and organize some activities at home. He's not home very often so when he is he likes to take it easy as a break from work and values the time he gets with his family.

Chilchuck would sometimes work from home as a locksmith, say, unlocking a chest for a customer. In those times, Meijack would take interest and watch him work, even handing him the tools he needs as he goes. In this way, Chilchuck taught her a lot about the work of a locksmith over time. He's also the one that would oil door hinges or do renovation around the house- when he's available.

Like the plushies under his table in his home that we see in illustrations, Chilchuck has a lot of mementos from his daughter (and his wife) he keeps around. Sometimes they take a bothersome amount of place, but throwing anything out isn't something he's seriously willing to consider. Flertom's the most artistic and she used to help with sewing clothes back together, so he has a cheap ceramic mug painted by her when she was really young and small embroideries around.

Imo Meijack would be the most distant in the present. Flertom makes efforts for her parents and is pretty involved, and Puckpatti's distance is more out of being a bit airheaded and being busy + not having a great grasp on time or what's a normal amount of family contact, but Meijack's the one who knowingly and intentionally keeps some distance. I think she’d be the least optimistic about their family situation, and although she’d be hopeful when Chilchuck reached out to them again she’d be a but hesitant. I think Meijack would hold some grudges, being the one most critical of their parenting, both grateful to her dad for working so hard for them and saddened that he wasn't in their life more. Since Flertom was born in the same year I think it’s possible that Meijack was pushed aside a bit to take care of the younger baby more, out of necessity rather than lack of love. Her mom probably needed a lot of help around the house too. Flertom wasn’t blind either, and she cared about & noticed her mom’s emotional states, but she’s on the whole more hopeful and forgiving.

This is my most far fetched one but it is a hc after all, but I think it'd be interesting if one of them had food hoarding tendencies/stress. I like to think it's Flertom, because she's the middle child and would get told that her older sister and younger sister are "growing and need the food" so she wouldn't be allowed to take as much refill or such, add that to them not having much money to frivolously spend on food and that makes a kid who's worried about not eating to her hunger and tends to be possessive over food (I'm projecting). Differential treatment is inevitable in families with many siblings, and it can manifest in small or big ways, maybe they realize it maybe they don't. Working in a tavern has helped eased that tendency of her though, and while she does diet a bit she always leaves a meal feeling satisfied.

When they were younger, Flertom was a real firecracker, loud and spirited with some troublemaking tendencies! She was the daughter that got in trouble & got scolded the most. You can still see slivers of it now that she’s an adult, but she’s much more poised and diligent. She has much more acquaintances than friends, but she has a couple of best friends and usually gets along well with most people. Puckpatti was always a bit head in the cloud, very kind if not gullible, and tended to make friends somewhat easily but didn’t keep them for long, preferring to keep meeting new people and not keeping in touch well. She isn’t super talkative but tends to ramble when she does. Meijack is very introverted, she has more trouble making friends, she has a good handful though they don’t meet up often, her friendships tend to last and she’s close to them. She’s grown more confident over the years, less repressed and more quiet. Meijack as the big sister tended to be the listener for her younger sisters who had more social mishaps. Flertom has dated once before and it only cemented to her that she was going to have very high standards from then on.

Meijack wears thigh-high boots because she hates when sand, dirt or snow gets in her shoes. She wears practical clothing but avoids anything frilly or flashy. Puckpatti also dresses practically, but she does enjoy pretty clothes, it’s more out of necessity and due to not having enough money to indulge. Flertom has a social stable job and she loves prettying herself up (especially as she’s in search of a husband) so she’s the one who gets the most and nicest fashionable clothes and accessories.

Chilchuck is hinted to have had a rather dysfunctional family himself (alcoholic father, distant siblings, etc). So he doesn’t really have the best model on how to raise someone and such. I imagine it was a sort of neglectful home situation, where the kids are encouraged to be independent. If they didn’t have to work or help around much, then free range parenting sort of thing. We do see how the family has full and warm feasts, where someone cleans his mouth with a rag, so it’s not like he didn’t have a caring circle or a tragic childhood though! I don’t remember if it’s explicitely stated, but he’s heavily implied to having grown up poor, as most half-foots, and I just think it's the hardened hardworking family type of childhood where just like he does with others they instill somewhat harsh life lessons in him, which in turn encourages him to indulge in the simple pleasures of life like alcohol and sex, or at least women’s beauty and crass jokes. We do see he seems more optimistic when he's younger in flashbacks, so a bunch of his harsh view on the world is still likely learned and earned rather than taught. I still think he inherited many flawed views from how his father acted, like his attitude about excessive drinking not being a big deal and worth it. That work hard play hard, enjoy life die young mentality he has, shown mostly in the "alcohol" section of his Adventurer's Bible profile, could very well be partly a result of the general poverty half-foot communities are that he grew in as well, like how he doesn't hope for things to be as best as they could be and contends with good enough. As far as I remember, his mother is never mentioned, but I doubt it implies she was out of the picture. She was probably a regular sort of mother that took care of the home as well and was still around when his father died. It looks like there’s a good age gap between one sibling to the next, that could be interesting to dig into too.

A part of Chilchuck’s character is that he takes responsibility for safety and actions of people around him and is very often looking out for them to not do faux-pas wether socially or literally with stepping onto traps. The way he says "I’ve got three people to think of here" makes me think that’s also how he’d think about having to provide for his family, and that could be a source of stress and insecurity for him. Caring for others is a pretty integral part of his character and we see time and time again that his family is very important to him, in any case.

Post-canon

This pic has so much to say!! It’s the ‘thank you for reading’ double page spread where they’re going to a big dining table at the castle with Laios and the main gang. First family gathering in 4 years perhaps?! I’ll say, not feeling very hopeful that his wife isn’t in this, not even implied to be just off-panel with a hand or anything… I imagine before this he still talked to them at least a bit and figured their family situation out, but I think this is still in the early stages of reconnecting. Haha imagine being one of them and receiving a letter saying "Hi it’s been a while… I want to introduce you to my ex-coworker the king and his friends, you up for that?" I don’t want to reconsider all my hcs for this yet, but this pic does seemingly show an eagerness from all the daughters to reunite and reconnect! Meijack’s could be seen as more hesitant, but I think it’s just awkwardness from meeting so many new people, of high status no less. Chilchuck does seem awkward and somewhat self-conscious though, and while that could be just from say Marcille and the others meeting his daughters and him not knowing how to act, I think that also shows that Chilchuck is unsure how to act around his daughters too. Can’t blame him, I’d be stressed too. Anyways, the daughters are all dressed up! Puckpatti even brought flowers! And I doubt it’s just for Senshi, or just to be in with the king. Oh also also, Puckpatti chides Meijack here, seemingly on manners?, so that implies new/different family dynamics there~

We know with the succubus chapter that he does plan on reaching out to his wife again and shooting his shot, and when Marcille was dungeon lord he told her she could help think of a plan to make up with her together at which point Marcille showered him in gifts and flowers intended for her and his daughters. So we do know that whatever happens and however it happens, Chilchuck definitely will at least reach out to her to win her back or worse case scenario get closure on the situation.

These are his plans before it’s revealed that the Island is… Well, not an island but the golden kingdom, so the news that Laios is king and that might have changed them a bit, but I think he’s still gonna stick around to help with the half-foot guild for a while.

My personal ideal post-canon Chilchuck life is that after around a year or two of helping around in the golden kingdom, especially regarding half-foot working rights, he gets his shop and finally settles down. He prioritized the whole half-foot guild because there are changes to attend to and people to help, but also used that to procrastinate a bit on getting in touch with his wife again. He does send a letter though, and when she replies they then meet face to face. They explain how it was like on their end, their grievances and their feelings, and they do reconcile. But… It’s been 4 years and his wife has frankly moved on. She’d rather they stay as friends, and Chilchuck has mixed feelings on it but is ultimately fine with it. He was halfway resigned to not reconciling with his wife in canon after all. But no longer do they have cut contact! They get together with the girls for the holidays and the ambiance is nice! He starts exchanging letters more regularly. He also gets a second family of clingy asses with Izutsumi and the main gang and so though he lives alone in his shop he’s well surrounded and well loved, and his daughters visit to check up on him every so often.

I really like the… Maturity of Chilchuck’s plotline, if that makes sense? To me the ending that fits the most is him and his wife reconciling, but not getting back together. I like that they could still be adults about it and at least amicable even after divorce, and that that wouldn’t be treated as a tragic ending. In the end, they were childhood friends and teenage parents, they rushed things a bit and I genuinely think they’re just not that compatible. If not then, at least having it be a gradual process, getting back together and making it work until they’re truly comforatble with each other. Destroy the relationship to better build it again stronger!

Although, his arc in the manga is to allow himself to form connections and be optimistic, which would fit well with him and his wife getting back together. I def think Chil would get healthier post-canon which could fix the issues they had in their relationship though. Like for one he starts eating more, which improves mood & irritability & health, and also after the whole half-foot guild he plans to settle down with a shop so it wouldn’t be long distance or unstable anymore which would definitely give his wife some peace of mind. If they still do some long distance at first while he gets the half-foot guild stable, it’d be really cute if he sent pressed flowers with his letters to her… That could make a nice fic concept, like over time all the pressed flowers and exchanged letters hehe (oh shit that’s a nice title)

My post-canon timeline is Chilchuck lives a nice life living alone in his house except his friends all visit him and care and even tho he likes living alone it’s also bittersweet and every corner of his life is haunted by mementos of the ones he loves and the moments he had with them. But then it’s also like the shared duty of everyone to pass by his shop when they can and keep the old man company and sometimes that means many people come at the same time like if both Meijack and Marcille came the same day~ Cozy life, no regrets except a lil regrets still. That’s it that’s all I want.

Misc

I didn’t know where to put this, so new category time! Family truly is a central theme of Chilchuck’s character. His reaction to learning more about how life gets made is so awed by the wonder of the world. Life indeed…

The implication of this page is that Chil didn’t know about the science side of how procreation works, though of course he did know about the practical side of it. This is speculation, and we have no clue how widespread the information of how reproduction scientifically works lol, but I think it’s fair to think that half-foots’ education especially in smaller communities is handled by the parent, school of life style, or if there are schools then the education is very general and it probably ends early. I think this is supported by how for example half-foots’ jobs we’ve seen are based on experience rather than knowledge, like being a locksmith. Of course any job has its fair share of specialized knowledge to learn, but jobs you learn on the fly pretty well. This sort of dynamic contrasts a lot against elves many tallmen communities, like with the magic academy, where education and knowledge are valued almost above experience, this is what the mandrake chapter was all about after all. Poorer communities tend to have poorer education systems as well irl, it’s a whole issue.

So I already said my piece about his wife not being blonde and it being nice and romantic because literally you don’t need someone to be a beauty ideal to love them and that’s fine and normal and even more romantic imo. But!! I do have an headcanon, now that his wife’s appearance is all but explicitly confirmed. While their hair is blonde, yes their hair is wavy and the ‘main’ one has deep-set eyes, not unlike his wife! Now this is a ‘which came first the egg or the chicken’ question, but while most people seem to be assuming that he got with his wife because she was his type, since they’re childhood friends I feel like it’s his love for his wife that shaped his preferences in that deparment. Like ok he loves golden hair and hers is black, but isn’t it so much more romantic that he has so much love and devotion for his wife and has stared lovingly at it so much over the years, that it’d become his ideal? He loves her eyes <3

Conclusion

Reminder that I’ve got more observations and tidbits compiled in a reblog addition now.

More stuff I should workshop for the masterpost:

Compile more info on Chilchuck's father and his other family. Edit: I compiled all I had pretty neatly here in a speculation post, but there’s no other concrete piece of info other than what I’ve covered here sadly. Same with stuff like Chilchuck’s past work schedule and exchanged letters, there seems to be no other bits of evidence, except…

On the chapter cover and extra where he’s in his basement room we can see one letter and a few papers across his desk. Maybe family letters? Wether his daughters or relatives. Seems too few to me, could just as well be job descriptions, but truly who knows, it’s hopeful.

Excellent analysis on half-foot culture here by a friend that I should read and incorporate the good info into my own meta~

And thus I leave you with a lil web weaving I made about Chil & his wife’s relationship~ And this is where I’d put panels of Chilchuck’s wife… IF THERE WERE ANY

Should we even call Chilchuck's wife Mrs. Tims... We don't know dunmeshi marrital traditions though, and half-foot already have somewhat complex naming conventions... I hate that we don't really know if the daughters' last names are Chils or Chilz. Although that seems to be a japanese to english translation issue, since japanese used the suffix zu and not su, likely to imitate the english S sound at the end of a word. Oh yeah the last names change each generation, that’s odd right? But in english it sounds like saying Chil’s, like, [father]’s, so I think this also supports how half-foots communities tend to be tightly knit and live in the present, for them to be like "Ooh so you’re [father]’s little one eh? I know who that is and this is insightful as to who your family is to me!". Iceland’s a place where last names are like this, though I don’t know about pros and cons of it in that context. It’s called a patronymic.

Ah and I have a bittersweet spotify playlist about her and Chil too, here if ya want. That’s it the post is over

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi manga spoilers #spoilers #chilchuck tims #delicious in dungeon #chilchuck’s wife #chilchuck’s family #Tims family #puckpatti #meijack #flertom #Analysis #Meta #Despite my best tries I am not omnipresent it's always fun when piecing together these topics is a community effort!!#please do build upon this if you have anything to add #but yeah editing is up in the air. I'll probably be adding stuff maybe even cutting stuff out #this is a giant post i am slightly overwhelmed #Kui puts so much importance in details it's incredible. It truly feels worthwhile to get into the weeds #We support chilchuck’s wife on this blog #I covered how stressful her life could have been a bit in my Grind Me Down Sweetly fic funnily enough if ya want to give it a read. It has #Daughters mentions too hehe. And my post-canon marchil take #Oh also if there’s already theory and compilation posts out there about this i’m down to link them in or smth. I haven’t seen it done but #If it’s been then i’m very interested in reading & seeing #Apparently chilchuck being an absent dad is a heated debated topic. Oops #Pls do not murder me… Peace and love in the dungeon meshi fandom? He’s my second fave have mercy on this humble stan #This is 7k words btw. Pls do pick and choose what you’re interested in or skim or take breaks or anything

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scary-monsters · 2 months ago

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5k feels like an adequate milestone to host my very first "draw this in your style" challenge, and it feels correct to use my personal take on a modern au diego brando for subject matter 🧡 rules and other stuff under the cut! whether you're participating or not, thank you so much for being here and enjoying my art :')) it means a lot to me

for this dtiys, i would love to see other artists' takes on a modern au diego! please include the following:

something he's listening to (music, podcast, yt video, etc)

something on his phone screen (could be a text, a game, a website, anything!)

a cute little outfit of some kind ("cute" is subjective, i just want to see him in something other than his canon outfit!)

any pose is fine, doesn't have to be half-body, can be a bust if that's all you're able to do! i'm mostly interested in seeing y'all's headcanons expressed through art

if you don't have headcanons as far as any of those things go, no worries! drawing my version will work perfectly fine! in fact i would love that just as much :')) he is dear to me..

additionally, to be considered for a prize:

make sure you tag me in the post, and include the "diego brando" tag as well just to be safe since i actively track his tag on here! i may miss it otherwise, and i would hate to miss anything!

you must post the art on here specifically! if you post elsewhere on other sites i will hopefully see and interact with it too, but it must be posted here primarily

you must be following me!

prizes will be in the form of two sketches and one fully rendered portrait, gifted to three separate people. i will not be choosing based on perceived art skill or personal relationships!! i just want to see other people's takes on my favorite character in the world 🧡🙏🏻

deadline is currently december 15th!! this may change, depending on my own schedule and other people expressing a desire for more time, i'm not in any rush!

due to my work schedule being chaotic this whole month, the new deadline in January 1st, so you have until the end of the year!

#diego brando #steel ball run #sbr #jjba fanart #jjba sbr #jjba part 7 #my art #diego #rlly hope to see y'all participate :')) let me know if you need more time!!! dec 15th will get here quick i imagine LOL #any questions: please ask! don't be shy. never done this before so i'm sort of winging it 😭

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katzske · 7 months ago

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Thoughts on Earthspark Season 2 (first half)

Spoiler Free:

I must admit I’m dissatisfied.

The animation and rendering definitely looks cheaper. Sometimes it feels like frames are missing, animations not polished, scenes not fully rendered. 2d and 3d poorly blends. It’s quite noticeable unfortunately. Characters also do the TFP Megatron stare now.

That being said, time was taken to revisit old models of characters and give them a new appearance. (4 i’ve noticed) It makes sense given a lot has changed during one year time skip.

The writing often feels either like exposition dumping or naruto filler episodes. I was never at the edge of my seat even during the climax. I ended up skipping through episodes due to the lack of relevant plot information.

Something ES managed to maintain were carefully composed shots that make great still images. While that’s nice for screenshots and redraws, I also feel like it’s the only unique aspect of ES’ animation style that remained. The rest, as previously mentioned, has lost quality.

Character Details I’ve noticed and want to talk about (spoilers ahead)

half of season 2 part 1 is filler. optimus trailer episode, great america with cosmos, a pachycephalosaurus-truck fighting mushrooms, hashtag taking ten years to dispose of hard drives…. each episode did have a few minutes of either cute or important moments. but the majority is a waste of time.

I was hoping that we would learn more about the decepticons. now that they’re free, what are they up to? how are their dynamics? how did season 1 finale change their perception on things? would they try to convince the terrans THEY are the good guys? nothing like that though.

There is no satisfying character development for starscream. ES Starscream was perfect to explore a more neutral version of him, who does not do bad things out of pleasure, but due to necessity; following his desire to be free. In the show he mentions he wanted to get rid of his oppressors (in his eyes autobots and humans), but a real “bruh” moment was when he told Hashtag the only reason he opened up to her last time was to tell her “take care of yourself first”. It completely disregards the fact he came to help in the season 1 finale after reflecting on Hashtags words. It also aggravates me that the writing could have been a very easy fix. “hey i’m not being selfish by destroying this town. im doing this for the decepticons, we have lived under the control of the autobots and then of humans. this needs to stop, we deserve freedom and i will do anything it takes.”

the show managed to establish some friction between starscream and shockwave but for deception standards it was very tame. overall i think it was written okay; he purposely let the Terrans escape with the fragments, and he bailed on Starscream once he went bonkers. I hope that he gets to be a Decepticon leader in the second half; i don’t think we have seen that in any TF TV show before. i also like that his antennae and eye color give away his emotions now.

i feel like the autobots are treated even worse than the decepticons this season ngl. they merely exist; and when they do have the spotlight it’s often for comedy.

why the fuck did shockwave not wait for hashtag to just dump the hard drives and leave. if someone walked up to me yelling “give me your trashbag” as i’m trying to dispose of it i’d be weirded out too lol.

i hope the chaos terrans don’t return. aftermath imo was, plot wise, redundant. spitfire at least was interesting and had an impact.

i wish there were more interesting fights like in season 1 instead of, oh no they’re hitting the trailer with sticks, oh no we are an abomination of dinosaur and vehicle for what feels like 15mins straight. i miss seeing soundwave slay.

#transformers #transformers earthspark #earthspark season 2 #shockwave #starscream

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cressidagrey · 7 days ago

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The moment I could see it - Part 3

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Ariel Cane (Original Character)

Summary: 5 Times that Gianpiero Lambiase thinks that Ariel Cane and Max Verstappen are weirdly similar…and 1 time he is just happy that the two of them are no longer pining after each other.

Warnings:

GP's POV, mention of cancer, mention of parent's death

Author Notes: I am back to my old tricks...which means I write from the most random of POV's just because. (I once wrote a chapter from a dog's POV so like, GP doesn't even really count.

It was actually quite stupid, GP reflected drily, that in 4 years of knowing both Ariel Cane and Max Verstappen...he had never even thought that one day they would be in the same room at the same time.

Even after Ariel had gotten a job in Red Bull's PR department straight out of uni.

It was just...two very different parts of his life. Colliding. Right in front of him.

And it was pure coincidence in a way...namely a meeting where they wanted an opinion from the Social Media Team...and suddenly, there was Ariel Cane walking into the room, with a smile on her face.

And there was Max Verstappen. Staring at her. Completely stunned.

GP found himself silently hoping that Max wouldn't start drooling or do something equally embarrassing.

GP couldn't suppress a silent laugh as he witnessed Max's reaction to Ariel's entrance. Max looked positively gobsmacked as he gaped at her. He couldn’t help but watch the whole thing with a lot of amusement as Max stared at Ariel utterly stunned.

Max, who GP had seen progress from a reckless speed demon to a more mature driver, but now was completely frozen, staring at Ariel as if he had never seen a girl before.

GP wasn't the only one who was amused by his reaction. Granted, Ariel was a very pretty girl, but the way Max was staring made it seem like she was the most gorgeous creature he had ever laid eyes on.

He couldn't help but find the whole situation entertaining. Max was usually so confident and laid-back, but now he looked completely out of his depth.

Meanwhile, Ariel was completely unaware of the effect she was having on him. She was simply smiling warmly at the meeting attendees, not realizing that Max was staring at her like a love sick puppy.

Gianpiero exchanged a glance with a couple of his colleagues, who were also trying to hide their amusement. Clearly, they found the whole situation just as amusing as he did. It was rare for Max to be rendered dumbfounded like this.

The meeting continued, with Ariel providing some insights for the Social Media Team. However, it was clear that Max struggled to concentrate on anything but her. He shot furtive glances in her direction, trying to be subtle but failing miserably. Luckily for Max, the meeting came to an end not long after, and everyone began to leave the room. GP watched as Max lingered behind, seeming like he wanted to say something to Ariel.

GP stepped in, noticing how Max was still staring at Ariel with a dreamy expression. He couldn't help but rib the young man a bit.

"Don't even think about it, Verstappen," he said dryly, amused by the situation.

Max looked at him, caught in the act of openly ogling Ariel, and his cheeks colored a bright red.

"I wasn't..." he protested weakly before trailing off. The denial sounded rather half-hearted.

GP just raised an eyebrow, silently saying 'yeah, sure you weren't.' He knew Max well enough to be able to tell when he was interested in someone, and right now, his interest was painfully evident.

"Actually I was thinking about offering her a job," Max blurted out.

GP could just stare at him. He definitely hadn't expected Max to say that.

"A job?" he repeated, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "What kind of job are you planning to offer her?"

He watched as Max shifted awkwardly, clearly having blurted out the words without fully thinking it through."Well, I fired Sadie...so I need a new personal assistant."

GP’s eyebrows rose even further as Max explained the situation. He couldn't help but be taken aback by his impulsivity.

"You fired Sadie and now you want to hire Ariel as your new personal assistant? Just like that?" he questioned incredulously.

"She's good at her job!" Max defended himself. "Better that...literally all the rest of the PR team I need to deal with on a daily basis."

GP had to acknowledge that Max had a point. The PR team could be...eccenctric, to say the least. And it was true that Ariel was good at her job.

"Alright, I'll give you that," he admitted. "Ariel is talented. But if you think that she is simply going to do what you tell her to do…you are wrong. She’ll eat you alive,” he said with some amusement. “Her brother is our Head of electrical engineering. Have you met him yet? Tall, Red head? Only manages to come to work with the same pair of shoes on both feet around 80% of time and is well known for working 48 hour stretches?”

"If they can't get him to stop, they call his little sister...and you don't want to be on her bad side when that happens."

Max shifted uncomfortably, clearly realising the implications of what Gianpiero was saying. Ariel Cane was not someone to be trifled with.

GP took a moment to reflect on the situation. Max, with his habit of getting into trouble, wanted to hire a young woman who was known for her no-bullshit, no-nonsense attitude...

Yeah, this was shaping up to be a disaster in the making. And GP was going to have a front row seat

But he couldn't help feeling a slight sense of schadenfreude. Sitting back and watching this unfold was going to be entertaining, in a chaotic and amusing kind of way.

He didn't actually think, Max was going to go through with it.

Until Ariel showed up in his office days later.

"Tell me about Max Verstappen," she said calmly as she sat down in front of his desk. "What kind of boss is he?"

His eyebrows rose.

"Well, he's not exactly my boss..." GP began. "But Max is a good kid. He's a raer, through and through. A bit impulsive and a bit...reckless, but he's a good guy...mostly."

He paused for a moment, considering how to describe Max as a boss.

"As a boss, he's...demanding," he continued. "He has high expectations and he expects you to give 110% at all times. But he's also fair and if you do your job, he'll be the first to give you credit for it."

"You aren't actually thinking about taking his offer, are you?" he asked her bluntly, unable to keep his surprise out of his voice.

Max was the unpredictable one. Ariel…Ariel wasn’t. Ariel always did what was expected of her.

He didn't want to discourage her if she was serious about the position, but he also had some strong opinions about the potential working relationship between her and Max.

"Max is...a handful," GP warned her. "He can be demanding, impulsive, and more than a bit reckless. As his personal assistant, you'd have to put up with a lot of things most people wouldn't even think of. Are you sure you want to get yourself into that kind of situation?"

Ariel cocked her head to the side. "I like a challenge," she said drily.

GP couldn't help but let out a low snort. That answer both reassured him as well as concerned him.

He had known that Ariel would see this as a challenge, and he had no doubt she was more than capable of handling Max and his…behavior.

"You like a challenge, huh?" he repeated, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Well, Max Verstappen sure as hell will be your biggest challenge yet. The hours will be long, the stress will be high, and you'll have to deal with a hell of a lot of Max's...antics."

He paused for a moment, giving her a hard look. He wanted to make sure she knew exactly what she was getting into with this job.

"You're more than capable of handling Max, I have no doubt. But be prepared for the ride of your life if you take on this job. Max is a handful, and I have no doubt he'll push your buttons. He'll probably drive you insane,” he warned her. “Do you think you can handle that?”

GP watched her closely, studying her expression for any hint of uncertainty or doubt. He was a good judge of character and could usually tell if someone was putting on a brave face. But if he was being honest, he couldn't detect any hint of hesitation on Ariel’s face.

Max could be a force of nature, more than most people could handle.

"Just keep in mind," he added, allowing himself a small smile. "Max is a race car driver. He's used to living his life at lightning speed. You'll need to keep up if you want to keep him on track."

There was a small smile blooming on Ariel's face.

"Oh, I expect nothing less," she said simply.

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sunni-stuff · 5 months ago

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I've been thinking about pirate!Ghost for the past couple weeks. I needed to get this out now.

-🌤! Tags: Afab, Uncontrollable Horniness, nsfw, age-gap. (early to mid 20s.)

The Sea Dogs were an entire ship full of ragtag men, each with his own story and reasons for joining the crusade across countless seas. Captain John Price, the leader of this crew, was a renowned figure known for his leadership and countless achievements. He had led his crew through years of wear and tear on the unforgiving waves, making their name heard far and wide.

None were as infamous as Ghost, his trusted gunner, known for his quick dagger throws and even quicker shots. A hulking man with a standoffish demeanor and unwavering cautiousness, Ghost never fully showed his face. He wore a black bandana tied around the lower half of his face, with black paint smudged around his eyes, revealing nothing yet leaving his harsh brown orbs to pierce the soul of anyone who stared too long.

To those who did not know him, Ghost was intimidating, deadly, and most of all, someone to avoid. He was fine with this. He relished the benefits his appearance gave him, how people shrank away at the mere sight of him, even from a distance. It made sense–who in their right mind would want to be near a man who had put a bullet through so many men that he couldn't count them all on his fingers?

Ghost was ruthless.

A silent marauder who took what he wanted without a second thought, plundering from men and women alike. Wherever he walked, the bodies and blood of the lives he took at sea seemed to follow. The culprit, his calloused hands bore the weight of his trusted flintlock, a companion who would even accompany him to his very grave.

A dirty bastard indeed.

Too dirty for the likes of you.

You.

You, who he sees, enter the blacksmith's forge. You, who wore a simple white dress with a black corset tied tightly around your waist. You, who smiled so innocently to the islanders as you carried out your chores. Running errands for your father all around the quaint island, carrying a simple woven basket filled with bread and biscuits in your delicate arms.

His mouth runs dry.

Ghost can't take his eyes off you as you walk past him, saying, “hello.” to a nearby merchant. Your sweet voice renders him speechless, drowning out everything else around him. He can’t hear Price bartering anymore. He can’t hear Gaz and Soap ribbing on who can pull in the most lasses. All he can hear is the sound of his heart beating and your brief yet lovely hello. He watches the sway of your hips beneath the fabric of your dress, how your stays lifts your delectable bosom with each breath.

He wants—needs to sink his teeth in you.

Ghost is desperate to touch you, to possess you completely. He craves the feeling of his hands on your skin, his lips ravishing yours as he listens to the sweet moans in his head. He wants nothing more than to thrust himself inside you and claim you as his own, burying his thick cock deep within your weeping pussy.

You’re a real peach. All smiles and fluttering lashes. A young thing, he assumes, based on the way the people dote on you so as you pass by shops, making your way back to your father’s bakery.

He’s an older man, one weathered by storms and battles, which do nothing to deter him from his new conquest. After all, the older the berry, the sweeter the juice.

And Ghost believes himself sweet enough.

Ghost discreetly adjusts the growing bulge in his pants and conceals any weapons he may be carrying.

He couldn't afford to scare off his darling pet.

And with that, Ghost followed after you, a maiden worth more than any treasure.

🌤 I had really bad writers blocked and was unable to write for a while, but this has been floating around in my pea brain for so long, so please enjoy.

P.S. This wasn't proofread.

#call of duty #cod x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #call of duty smut #mayadarlings #sunniside

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i-ate-your-dog-srry · 10 days ago

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●COMMISSIONS OPEN

ALL OF THE MONEY IS GOING TWARDS A DOG!

Explanation and more about the commissions ⬇️

Explanation/situation

This is a very complicated situation, sadly! For why I am suddenly in more need of money for the dog will probably get a bit personal.

I have been calling the dog Woody. He is the sweetest boy I have ever met, but sadly, Woody is in a neglectful situation. Borderline animal abuse. The man who currently owns Woody is to put it lightly, a huge piece of shit. Woody is currently starving and malnutritioned. Ontop of that, he has a BAD case of untreated arthritis and fleas. His owner doesn't care about him. He is left outside in cold weather (winter in CANADA). The owner doesn't care about where Woody goes, and he doesn't care to feed Woody. Woody is an old dog who can not care for himself. He is in constant pain/discomfort, and I haven't seen his tail wag ONCE. even at food and attention.

I'll try to make this quick, but it's hard to do so. My apologies in advance.

Woody is currently in my dad's garage. I am a minor, and I don't have much power to help Woody, but I'm doing all I can. I really love him. My dad is not a good person, and I want to take Woody to my mom's and let him live the life he deserves in a warm home with love and food. The garage is not heated, and my dad has no real concern for Woodys life. In order to help Woody, we would need to steal him from his owner. I have considered animal control, but sadly, this is a small, old-fashioned town. There isn't real animal control here. Only a pound, and they will not care. If they do take action (VERY unlikely), it will most likely lead to them putting him down. He deserves to live at least some of his life happily. Back on topic. At my mom's, we already have 4 animals And ontop of all the expenses that those animals come with, we would be adding more. We are not well off. Woody needs medical care for his arthritis and fleas, and we are already drained of extra cash from rescueing one of our other animals (Critter) recently. I don't want Woody to suffer anymore, and vet expenses are high. My mom has agreed to help Woody, but I can't just not help with the money. We are stuck in between a rock and a hard place, and the sooner I have money to help with the sooner, Woody is safe. I can only imagine how the cold temperatures are affecting his arthritis at this moment. I will keep this post updated.

Update/edit: Woody has put on some weight!! He is still underweight non the less but it is small progress! Sadly, I have found his ears are infested, but I am getting this handled! I finally have some pictures of him! <33 he also seems more happy!!! He is standing still more often, and he quite loves the attention.

Another edit/update: he is doing even better!! Even more meat on his bones, and he is so much happier!!! His tail is wagging, and he seems to be in so much less pain!! <3 he's also jogging around and trotting! .. it's still a task to get up the stairs, though...

Commission info

I am a minor!! If this makes you uncomfortable, I completely understand!!! I am a teenager in my much younger years. I just wanted to make that clear <3

A fully rendered art piece: $20.00

A flat colored and hard lined art piece: $15.00

A Hard lined art piece: $10.00

A sketch art piece is: $5.00

Bust, half-body, and full body choices add no charge it's simply an option :)

Adding another character to the art piece will add $10.00 onto the commissions price, and the price can be debated and talked about! :] If you are interested, please send me a DM, or if you have any questions about any of this, you can contact me any way you wish!

I do!

OC's, characters, light gore, Oc/Sona + Character, Oc/Sona x Character, lightly romantic settings/interacts.

I Dont do!

Heavy gore, NSFW, suggestive drawings, humans.

The human rule can be broken, but I can not draw humans well at all. So there is a large chance you will not get a very pretty drawing. I mostly draw things more like monsters/puppets/furrys, etc.

I only use PayPal and e-Transfer . D:

Please contact me in any way if you have any questions whatsoever about what was said or mentioned in this post! :3

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inkandtension · 1 month ago

Text

Cupid’s Bow.

Request: Minho x fem reader, angst, Enemies to lovers, inspired by : the beach by the neighbourhood

requested by: @hannamoon143

this is kinda long…. Sorry it took a long time! 😀🧍🏽‍♀️

Y/N, a fiercely dedicated archer training for an upcoming national competition, finds her already packed schedule upended when she's forced to collaborate with Minho, a renowned digital artist, on a promotional campaign celebrating diverse skill sets. From the moment they meet, sparks fly—but not the good kind. Minho, known for his sharp tongue and stunning creativity, quickly dismisses archery as “a medieval hobby trying to stay relevant,” while Y/N fires back with equal venom, calling digital art nothing more than "drawing for lazy people who don't know how to use a pencil."

The tension is palpable during their first brainstorming session, held in a sleek, minimalist studio that feels worlds away from Y/N's earthy training grounds. Minho's snide remarks about her calloused fingers and outdated sport clash with Y/N's pointed criticisms of his reliance on technology. Neither wants to back down, their arguments simmering with the kind of intensity that draws everyone's attention.

“Guys, please stop, now’s not the time!” they’d all start complaining and half of them lose the will to work seeing the fight almost everyday.

Y/N is at the archery range, her focus razor-sharp as she nocks an arrow and lets it fly, hitting the bullseye with ease. As she adjusts her archer's glove, Minho strolls in, a sketchpad and tablet under his arm. His amused smirk makes her blood boil before he even speaks.

“So this is it? Shooting at a target over and over again? Sounds thrilling,” he says, sarcasm dripping from his words.

She glares at him, holding up her glove-covered hand.

“This is precision and skill. Not that you’d understand with your stylus and Photoshop shortcuts.” Minho lifts his own gloved hand and wiggles it mockingly.

“Right, because my work, which takes hours of layering and digital rendering, is just so easy. Sure.”

Y/N narrows her eyes, stepping off the shooting line to face him fully, the faint creak of her leather glove breaking the silence. "It is easy," she fires back, her voice calm but cutting. "You make a mistake? Undo button. I make a mistake? That arrow’s gone. There's no second chance."

Minho raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening as he sets his sketchpad and tablet on the nearest bench. "You think every line I draw is perfect the first time? Newsflash, Robin Hood, creativity doesn’t come with a manual. At least you’ve got a fixed target to aim at. My job is creating something from nothing."

Her lips tighten into a thin line, the insult stinging despite her resolve to keep her cool. “Creating from nothing? Is that what you call copying filters and adding shadows? My three-year-old nephew could do that.”

Minho lets out a short laugh, the kind that feels more like a jab. “Oh, sure. And let me guess—he could also spend days conceptualizing a campaign while having to work with someone who thinks flinging pointy sticks at hay bales is the pinnacle of human achievement?”

Y/N’s jaw tightens, her patience thinning. She takes a slow step toward him, each word deliberate. “It’s not about flinging arrows, Minho. It’s about discipline, control, and hitting a goal with precision every single time. Something tells me that’s a little out of your league.”

He mimics her slow step, closing the distance between them, his smirk fading into something sharper, more competitive. “And you think shooting at the same target all day makes you superior? Try creating something people actually care about—something that’ll outlive you. That’s real skill.”

The air between them crackles with tension, their glares locked as if daring the other to make the next move. Finally, Y/N breaks the silence, her voice steady but icy. “You know, you talk a lot of trash for someone who’s never even held a bow.”

Minho’s eyes flash with challenge. “Oh, is that an invitation? Because I wouldn’t mind showing you up at your own game.”

Y/N crosses her arms, a smirk tugging at her lips now. “Go ahead. But don’t cry when you miss every shot.”

Minho picks up the nearest bow, holding it awkwardly as Y/N watches with thinly veiled amusement. The moment he tries to nock an arrow and fumbles, her laugh escapes, low and mocking.

“Precision and skill, huh?” he mutters, fumbling with the string again.

“And patience,” she says, leaning against a post as she watches him struggle. “But I wouldn’t expect you to have that, either.”

He tries once, his aim steady but completely off-target, and instead of hitting the mark, he accidentally strikes the ground near a worm. She gasps in mock horror, dramatically rushing toward the unsuspecting creature as if to shield it from further harm. Kneeling down, she peers at the worm, her expression turning to exaggerated relief.

“You didn’t even hit the worm. Not even close. The worm didn’t even flinch.” She raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re aiming at all, or are you just trying to give the worm a heart attack?” “I bet you won’t be good at drawing, either” He said.

“I never said I was.”

…

She’d just released a perfect arrow, the kind that sliced cleanly through the air and struck the target dead center, when her focus wavered. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Minho sitting a few feet away, cross-legged and absorbed in his tablet. His stylus moved deftly over the screen, his brow furrowed in concentration, though his expression carried a hint of annoyance.

“Don’t you have a real job to do?” she snapped, lowering her bow and fixing him with a sharp glare.

Minho didn’t even flinch at her tone. His eyes stayed locked on his screen as he added another stroke to his sketch, shading with meticulous precision. “Funny,” he murmured without looking up, “I thought the same about you.”

He tapped his screen once, then swiveled it around to face her. The drawing was a surprisingly detailed sketch of her—her stance, her bow mid-draw, and her intense focus on the target. But there was an unmistakable exaggeration in her expression: her eyes were wild, her jaw tense, her features twisted with mock ferocity.

“Look,” he said dryly, holding it out with a smirk. “It’s a very angry archer.”

Y/N bristled, her grip tightening on the bow. “At least I’m not hiding behind a screen all day, imagining what it’s like to actually do something,” she shot back, her voice clipped.

Finally, Minho tilted his head up to meet her glare, his lips curving into an infuriatingly slow smirk. “Well, some of us use our creativity a little more… digitally,” he countered, his tone maddeningly calm.

Her frustration flared, and she stepped closer, extending her gloved hand toward him. “You think this is just imagination?” she challenged, her voice low but charged with irritation. She held up her hand, pointing out the distinct design of her glove—the archer’s glove, snugly fitted to her hand, with the fingers for the index, middle, and thumb covered for grip and precision.

Minho’s gaze flicked to her hand and then to his own. He raised his hand slightly, revealing his own glove, sleek and minimal, with only the pinky and ring fingers covered to avoid smudging his screen.

“See?” she said, her tone icy. “We’re just cut from different cloths.”

For a moment, silence stretched between them as they stood there, their gloves a stark contrast to each other. Minho’s smirk softened, replaced by something quieter, more thoughtful. He let out a soft laugh, glancing down at their hands before meeting her eyes again.

“Maybe,” he said, his voice calmer now, almost musing. “But maybe that just means we could complement each other. I mean if you look closely, our gloves together make a whole.”

Her eyes narrowed, suspicion lingering. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged, his lips twitching as if suppressing another smirk. “Who knows? Maybe you’re good at hitting targets, and I’m good at seeing the bigger picture. You never know what that could lead to.”

She scoffed, but there was a faint flush creeping up her neck that she didn’t care to explain. “Get back to your drawing, Minho,” she muttered, turning away before he could notice.

“Gladly,” he replied, his voice laced with amusement. As she stepped back to the range, she could still feel his gaze on her, a quiet tension lingering in the air between them.

…

something terrific happened.

Something that absolutely ruined well, everything.

Y/N arrived at the studio early, as always. She was already irritated, not just by the thought of spending the entire day with Minho, but by the very fact that he had been the one to suggest she’d be the problem. The studio itself was newly constructed, still echoing with the sounds of a place trying to find its identity. The walls were barely dry with paint, and the sharp scent of fresh lumber lingered in the air. There was an unfinished quality to everything—the kind of rawness that made her skin crawl.

She set her bag down with a sigh, pulling out her gear for the shoot—her bow and quiver, her leather gloves. The anticipation for the day’s work was drowned out by the vague sense of discomfort that settled in her chest. She was already imagining the hours ahead: forced smiles, shallow small talk, and of course, Minho’s smug attitude.

She didn’t have to wait long for him to arrive, though. Of course, he showed up late, walking through the door with the same casual stride, as if time was something he could bend to his will. He muttered something under his breath, loud enough for her to hear, though he likely didn’t care if she did. “What’s the rush? Archers must have nothing better to do than sit around and wait.”

Y/N shot him a look, her eyes narrowing with the same irritation that had already been brewing. He didn’t even seem to notice, or maybe he just didn’t care. She ignored his comment, choosing to focus on the task at hand—setting up her gear, making sure everything was in place. She was too professional to get caught up in petty remarks.

Minho, on the other hand, took one look around and immediately began to complain. “This place looks like a construction zone,” he said loudly, as if no one else could hear. “How is anyone supposed to focus with all this mess? This is unprofessional.”

Y/N gritted her teeth but held her tongue, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. But her patience was wearing thin. “Maybe if you spent less time whining and more time doing your job, we’d already be done,” she snapped, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

Minho’s gaze flicked toward her, his expression amused. “I’m just trying to make sure this whole thing doesn’t end up being a disaster,” he retorted, completely unfazed. The session proceeded like this, with them bickering back and forth—her quick to respond to his jabs, him seemingly incapable of shutting up for more than a few seconds at a time.

The photographer kept trying to get them both to focus, but the tension between them was palpable, and the shoot felt anything but smooth. Y/N’s frustration only grew as the minutes ticked by, with Minho’s commentary getting more and more grating. She was starting to wonder if this day would ever end.

Then, just as she was adjusting her stance for another shot, a loud creak echoed through the room. The noise was unsettling, like the very structure of the building was groaning under pressure. Y/N froze, her eyes darting upward as the ceiling above them groaned again, a deep, foreboding sound.

Before anyone could react, a loud crack rang through the room, followed by the distinct sound of something large and heavy breaking free from its supports. The floor beneath them seemed to shudder as part of the ceiling collapsed in a sudden crash, sending debris scattering in all directions. The dust clouded the air, making it impossible to see for a moment.

Y/N was on instinct, ducking as a chunk of wood fell inches from where she’d been standing. Her heart hammered in her chest as she scrambled to her feet, adrenaline flooding her system. She could hear Minho cursing, his voice rising above the chaos.

“What the hell?!” he yelled, coughing through the dust. He sounded genuinely rattled now, a rare occurrence for him. Y/N didn’t waste time looking back at him—her focus shifted entirely to the damage, the pieces of the ceiling that had fallen, some still dangling precariously from the exposed beams above.

“Is everyone alright?” the photographer called out, voice shaking.

As Y/N took a step back to assess the damage, her foot caught on a loose piece of rubble, sending her stumbling forward. She barely registered the movement before something heavy crashed down from above—a massive chunk of ceiling, debris still tumbling in its wake, slammed directly onto her arm.

The pain was immediate and sharp, a searing agony that shot through her entire body as she let out a strangled gasp. Her vision blurred for a moment, the weight of the fallen ceiling pressing down on her arm, pinning her to the floor.

Minho's voice cut through the chaos, sharp with panic. “Y/N!” He was at her side in an instant, his hands reaching to lift the debris, but it was heavy, too heavy for him to move alone. “Shit, are you okay?!” His voice was frantic now, the usual arrogance replaced by something far more raw and urgent.

Y/N gritted her teeth, refusing to let the pain break her focus. She tried to shift her arm, but the pressure from the broken ceiling was relentless. The dust was thick in the air, and every breath she took seemed to make her chest tighten more.

Minho immediately reacted, pulling at the debris with all his strength, but the piece was large, and it barely budged. His face was taut with concentration, his usual smirk completely gone. “Hold on,” he said, voice shaky, but his hands were steady as he tried to lift the chunk of ceiling.

Y/N winced, biting back a cry of pain as the weight shifted slightly.

Finally, Minho managed to shift enough of the debris off, as staff rushed there to help and evacuate the place. It revealed her arm, now bruising quickly from the force. She inhaled sharply as the weight finally lifted, but the relief was short-lived. Her arm felt heavy, almost useless. She could feel the pain radiating from her wrist, where the ceiling had come down the hardest.

“Shit,” Minho muttered under his breath, looking at her arm with wide eyes. He knelt down beside her, his voice softer now. “Is it broken?”

Y/N clenched her teeth, unwilling to show how badly it hurt. “I don’t know,” she snapped, pulling her arm back slightly to test it. The pain flared up again, sharper this time. “Just help me get out of here.”

When the ambulance finally arrived, its sirens wailing in the distance, Y/N felt a mix of relief and anxiety wash over her. The pain in her arm had only intensified as the adrenaline began to wear off, but she clenched her teeth and focused on the paramedics as they carefully worked to stabilize her.

Minho, however, wasn’t about to let anyone else take charge. As the paramedics made their way to assess her injury, he immediately stepped forward, blocking their path with a protective glare. His usual aloofness had disappeared completely, replaced by a fierce determination.

“I'm coming with her,” he said, his voice low but firm. The paramedics exchanged a quick glance, but neither of them argued, clearly used to people being adamant about staying with loved ones.

Y/N couldn’t help but watch him, her mind a blur of pain and confusion. What was he doing? Why was he being so... concerned? He wasn’t supposed to care. They were just colleagues—rivals, even. Yet, here he was, hovering over her like he couldn’t bear to let go.

When the paramedics gently helped her onto the stretcher and into the back of the ambulance, Minho slid in beside her without a second thought, his hand immediately finding hers. He squeezed it gently, as though reassuring himself more than her.

Y/N’s breath hitched slightly as the door slammed shut behind them, the engine roaring to life as they sped toward the hospital. She was grateful for the warmth of his hand, but she couldn’t quite understand why he was doing this. The words from earlier about how they were “cut from different cloths” echoed in her mind, but his actions now seemed to contradict that.

His thumb brushed over her knuckles in a comforting motion, his gaze fixed on her face. “You okay?” he asked softly, the usual teasing edge gone from his voice.

She didn’t answer right away, not because she didn’t want to, but because she wasn’t sure how to respond. She hated feeling vulnerable, especially in front of him. But his steady presence, the way he refused to let go of her hand, made something inside her shift.

“Do you think it’s broken?” she asked, her voice tight from the pain. She hadn’t even dared look at it yet, but she could feel the weight of the injury in every movement, a dull throb that was becoming sharper with each passing minute.

Minho’s expression darkened slightly, his jaw clenched as he looked at her arm. “I’m not sure. But we’ll know soon enough.” He shifted closer, almost unconsciously leaning over her, like he was willing to shield her from whatever came next.

Y/N felt her chest tighten, her mind swirling with thoughts she didn’t want to address. She could hear the ambulance’s sirens fading as they raced through the streets, and for a fleeting moment, everything outside of the small space between her and Minho seemed to vanish. The only thing that mattered was the pressure of his hand in hers, the soft rhythm of his breathing, and the unspoken understanding that had settled between them.

She glanced at him, catching his eye. “Why are you really here?” she asked, her voice softer now, almost vulnerable.

Minho didn’t flinch or back away, his gaze unwavering as he held her stare. “Because you’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he said with a small, but genuine, smile that reached his eyes. “And because I don’t think you’d let me, even if I tried.”

Y/N couldn’t suppress the tiny spark of warmth that flared up at his words, despite everything. She wanted to argue, to tell him to stop pretending like he cared, but deep down, a part of her was grateful for his presence.

The ambulance continued its swift journey toward the hospital, the distance between them closing in ways Y/N hadn’t expected. In that moment, the smirk, the teasing, the tension—all of it faded away, and she was left with only one undeniable truth: Minho wasn’t going anywhere.

The sterile, bright hospital room felt suffocating as Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, the weight of the doctor’s words pressing down on her like a boulder. The doctor had just finished delivering the devastating news, and the silence that followed felt suffocating.

“I’m sorry, but with these injuries, archery is not something you’ll be able to pursue again at the competitive level,” the doctor had said. His tone was gentle, but it made the words no less crushing. “Your fingers will need time to heal, but they may never fully recover.”

Y/N felt her heart drop to her stomach as she processed what the doctor had said. The world seemed to tilt on its axis, her mind racing through a whirlwind of disbelief and dread. She stared at her arm, still wrapped in a cast, and then down at her fingers, which felt oddly stiff and foreign, as if they were no longer a part of her.

My fingers… Her mind spiraled. Archery had been her life, her passion—her future. She’d spent years working to get to this point, training endlessly, sacrificing everything for the sport. To hear that all of that could be taken away in an instant was like being ripped apart from the inside out.

The tears threatened to surface, but she refused to let them fall. She’d never been one to show weakness, not when everything she’d worked for was being stripped away in one cruel blow. Instead, she clenched her jaw, willing the tears to stay back, even as her chest tightened painfully.

The doctor gave her a sympathetic glance before walking out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. She didn’t notice his departure; she couldn’t focus on anything but the silence that now filled the room, the stillness that matched the numbness creeping into her bones.

The only sound that broke through the heavy silence was the faint hum of the fluorescent lights overhead, and the soft scrape of a chair being moved. She glanced up to see Minho standing by the door, his posture tense as he took in the situation.

He hadn’t said a word since the doctor left, but she could feel his presence like a weight in the room. He didn’t have to speak; his quiet support was enough. Y/N hated that, hated how much it comforted her, how much his silent understanding meant in that moment.

Minho took a few steps toward her, his eyes avoiding her gaze for a moment before locking with hers. His usual smirk was absent, replaced by something deeper—something unspoken, but heavy. He didn’t offer empty platitudes or pretend to know how she felt. He simply stood there, a steady presence in the storm of emotions swirling inside her.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Y/N muttered, her voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. She wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or to herself. “I know what it means.”

Minho’s gaze softened, and he sat down in the chair beside her bed. For a moment, he said nothing, just letting the silence stretch between them. Then, quietly, almost as if he were speaking to himself, he said, “I know how much it meant to you. It’s… it’s unfair.”

Y/N blinked, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. It wasn’t something she expected from him—not the way he usually teased her or the sharpness he often wore as armor. This felt different. Real.

“I’ve worked so damn hard for this,” she murmured, her voice shaking just a little. “And now… now I’ll never get it back.”

Minho didn’t say anything for a long time, his eyes fixed on her fingers, the ones that had been her lifeline, now broken and uncertain. Then, after a beat of silence, he spoke again, his words slow, deliberate.

“Maybe you don’t need to be an archer to be… you.”

The words hung in the air between them, and Y/N didn’t know how to respond. Part of her wanted to shout, to tell him that he didn’t understand—that she was nothing without archery, that it was her whole identity. But another part of her, buried deep beneath the shock and grief, felt the pull of his words, like a lifeline thrown out in the dark.

He gave her hand a tentative squeeze, his thumb brushing against her skin gently. “Whatever happens… you’re not alone in this,” he said quietly.

Y/N didn’t know what to say to that. She was used to carrying everything on her own, used to handling things alone. But in that moment, she found herself reluctantly leaning into his presence, the weight of his words settling into her chest.

She didn’t say anything else, just looked at her casted arm and the mess of emotions swirling within her. Minho didn’t push her to talk. He stayed with her, silent and steady, his presence an anchor in the midst of a storm that threatened to tear her apart.

And for the first time in a long time, Y/N didn’t feel quite as alone.

As the days blurred into weeks, Y/N’s world continued to shift beneath her. The weight of her injury hung heavily over her, a constant reminder of what she had lost. Archery had been her life, her identity, and now, it seemed as if that identity had been stripped away in the blink of an eye.

Her parents, furious and protective, rallied around her in their own way. They had always been fiercely invested in her success, and the sight of their daughter in pain triggered something primal in them. They couldn’t bear the thought of her suffering without justice. The idea of her future—her dreams—being destroyed without any accountability gnawed at them until they decided to take matters into their own hands.

They hired a lawyer and filed a lawsuit against the studio. The claim was simple: negligence. The studio had failed to properly inspect the building before using it for interviews and promotional shoots, and it was this failure that had caused the ceiling to collapse, injuring their daughter beyond repair. They argued that the accident wasn’t just a freak incident—it was a direct result of the company’s lack of care and attention.

Y/N hadn’t wanted to get involved. She wasn’t interested in dragging things out or seeking revenge. She just wanted to heal, to find a way to move forward. But her parents insisted, convinced that justice could only be found through legal action.

The court case dragged on for months, a bitter reminder that her life was no longer in her own hands. Every time she thought about the process, she felt her chest tighten. It wasn’t about the money, not for her. But her parents insisted it was a matter of principle. They fought for accountability, for the principle that a company shouldn’t get away with causing harm so carelessly.

And in the end, the court found the studio guilty. The evidence was clear—the building had not been properly inspected, and the structure had been deemed unsafe before being used for commercial purposes. The company was ordered to pay a significant settlement to Y/N, though the amount seemed paltry compared to the injury she’d suffered, the career she’d lost, and the dreams that had been shattered.

When Y/N found out about the ruling, she felt numb. She sat in the sterile waiting room of the hospital as the lawyer called her parents to relay the news. The words blurred together, but the impact was undeniable. The settlement was a victory for her parents, something they could hold on to, but to Y/N, it felt hollow. It didn’t change anything. The money wouldn’t heal her fingers. It wouldn’t erase the long nights of training, the years spent perfecting her craft, the agonizing loss of something that had been everything to her.

Her parents were thrilled, their anger temporarily quelled by the ruling. But Y/N couldn’t bring herself to share in their relief. All she could think about was how much the settlement had cost her. The studio had paid for their mistake, but the price for her was far steeper than any check could cover.

Later that evening, after the celebrations had died down, Minho came to visit her. His presence was a steady comfort, but tonight, it felt like there was an unspoken weight between them, something they hadn’t addressed in all the chaos that had surrounded the lawsuit and her recovery.

When Minho entered her room, he didn’t offer any words of congratulations. Instead, he sat beside her, his expression serious. “You okay?” he asked quietly, looking at her like he was waiting for her to crack.

Y/N stared out the window, watching the lights of the city twinkle in the distance. The hospital room felt cold, sterile, a place she never thought she’d be spending so much time in. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve got money. I’ve got a settlement. But what’s it all worth? It doesn’t bring back what I lost.”

Minho didn’t try to offer words of comfort or reassurance. Instead, he just sat there, quietly, letting her process. He knew better than anyone how difficult it was to watch something you loved be taken from you. He had seen it in the way she held her bow before the accident, the way her whole body came alive when she shot, like she was a part of something bigger. The way her spirit had dimmed since the accident had left a mark on him too.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, breaking the silence. “I don’t know what it’s like to lose something like that. But... I know you’ll find a way to get through it. Even if it takes time.”

Y/N didn’t answer right away. She just leaned back against her pillow, her gaze distant. There were so many things she didn’t know anymore—so many things that had been ripped from her hands. But for the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to admit that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t have to face it alone.

The legal battle had given her parents what they wanted, but it hadn’t given her what she truly needed. Justice was one thing, but healing—true healing—was something only time could offer.

And, perhaps, with Minho’s quiet support, maybe even a little bit of hope.

In the days that followed the accident, Minho never stopped showing up, despite the fact that Y/N kept pushing him away. He came to her room with the quiet persistence of someone who understood more than he let on, but also respected her need for space—even if she didn’t realize it.

Each time he appeared at her door, a mixture of frustration and longing flickered in her chest. She didn’t want him here—not like this. She didn’t want his sympathy, his pity, or his attempts to help her in a way that only made her feel more helpless.

One evening, after he suggested helping her with simple tasks—like tying her shoelaces or even feeding her left-handed—Y/N snapped. The anger that had been building within her over the last few weeks finally erupted, spilling out in a sharp, jagged voice.

“I don’t need you to ‘teach’ me how to be anything,” she hissed, her gaze hard and unforgiving. Her fingers, stiff from the injury, curled into a fist. “Just… leave me alone.”

Minho took a step back, his expression unchanged but his eyes betraying a flicker of hurt. Yet, he didn’t leave. He never did.

“Okay,” he said quietly, as if letting her have her moment. But the silence that followed felt like a heavy weight, a shared understanding hanging in the air between them. He didn’t push any further that day, though he left behind a small package on her bedside table—one she hadn’t even noticed.

The next day, Y/N opened the package to find a book of poetry—one she had mentioned loving before. Her fingers brushed over the cover, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she softened. Minho was still finding ways to care for her without demanding anything in return. She knew he wasn’t expecting a thank-you, but she couldn’t help the pang of guilt that hit her.

Over the next week, his visits became a mix of awkwardness and tentative kindness. He’d show up with bags of food from her favorite takeout place—nothing fancy, just comfort food that somehow felt like a small balm for the chaos of her life. He even brought her a sketch one evening, left silently by her door.

It was of her—his hand-drawn portrait of her in her prime, holding her bow with the same fire that used to light up her world. His delicate lines captured the way she held herself, strong and focused. The drawing felt so real it almost hurt. It was like he had seen her, really seen her, not just the version of herself she had become after the accident. She swallowed back a lump in her throat.

Despite her resistance, despite her frustration, his quiet presence seeped into the cracks of her heart, mending parts she hadn’t even realized were broken. It wasn’t pity. It wasn’t forced kindness. It was the kind of gentleness that spoke of understanding, of time spent in silence, waiting for her to heal at her own pace.

One evening, as she struggled with trying to tie her own shoelaces with her left hand, Minho appeared again, standing in the doorway, arms laden with a small basket of fresh fruit.

“You’re trying to tie your shoes with your non-dominant hand again?” he asked, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “You know, the doctor said you’re supposed to take it easy for a while.”

“I’m fine,” she muttered, not looking up, irritated by the truth she didn’t want to admit. “It’s just a stupid shoelace.”

Minho walked over slowly, setting the basket down on the table beside her. Without a word, he crouched down, taking the laces from her clumsy hands. He worked in silence, his movements deft as he tied the shoes with the care he had shown for her in the past few weeks. When he was done, he stood back up and met her gaze, his expression serious but soft.

“Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should,” he said quietly. “You don’t have to carry the world on your shoulders alone.”

She opened her mouth to snap at him again, but the words didn’t come. Instead, she looked at him, truly looked at him, and for the first time in a long while, her anger faded into something else.

Minho wasn’t here because he thought she was weak. He wasn’t here because he pitied her. He was here because he saw her—he saw the woman who had been so strong before, and he believed she could be that woman again, even if it took time.

“I didn’t ask for your help,” she muttered, but this time, it lacked the bite of her earlier words.

“I know,” Minho replied simply, his voice warm and steady. “But I’m not leaving.”

Y/N didn’t know how to respond to that. She wasn’t ready to admit that she might need him, but in the quiet moments that followed, she couldn’t deny the comfort his presence gave her. Even in her resistance, she felt something softening within her, a fragile thread of trust she hadn’t realized she was willing to weave again.

“I can help you, please let me, you know I’m ambidextrous.”

…

One night, Minho comes to her house, as he has so many times before. Y/N’s frustration has reached its peak, and she can’t hold it back anymore.

“I’m not a broken doll that needs fixing. I’m not someone you have to pity.”

Minho sits down across from her, knowing it’s her daily depressing hour. his expression unreadable. For a moment, the silence feels suffocating. Then, he speaks softly. “I can’t teach you archery, but I can teach you how to draw. I can teach you how to use your other hand.”

She looks at him, and for the first time, the bitterness fades just enough to let a tiny flicker of hope in. Maybe she can still create something. Maybe it won’t be the same as archery, but it could be something new. Later that evening, her mother enters the room with a tray of snacks, trying to lighten the mood. She sits down next to Y/N, looking between her and Minho.

“You should’ve been more careful, sweetie. You’re an archer. You should’ve known how to take care of yourself.”

That’s the breaking point.

Y/N stands up abruptly, the frustration boiling over. “It’s not my fault! I couldn’t have known the ceiling was going to fall! it’s not like I give everywhere assuming unexpected things happen !” She’s shaking with the intensity of it now.

“I didn’t choose this! I didn’t choose for this to happen. I didn’t choose for everything I’ve worked for to get destroyed in an instant!” Minho watches her, his gaze soft but firm. He steps closer, resting a hand on her shoulder.

Y/N’s breath is shaky, her chest tight with the rawness of her emotions. She blinks rapidly, trying to stop the tears that threaten to spill over, but they come anyway, hot and relentless. Her hands tremble as she wipes them away, but it’s futile—no amount of effort can hide the grief that swells inside her.

“I don’t know how to live without it,” she whispers, her voice cracking as the pain surges. “Archery wasn’t just something I did. It was who I was. It was everything to me. And now… now I’m just… broken.”

Her words crack like glass shattering, each one a reminder of the life she thought she had and the future that was ripped away in a single moment. She had spent years training, dedicating herself to something that made her feel whole, something that defined her in a world that often felt too large. And now, that piece of her was gone. The path she had been walking for so long had been torn away, leaving nothing but jagged edges and an aching emptiness.

Minho’s heart twists as he watches her, the storm of emotions in her eyes threatening to consume her. He doesn’t know what to say—he can’t fix this. He can’t give her back what she lost, no matter how much he wishes he could.

“I know,” he says quietly, his voice soft but resolute. “I know it feels like everything’s falling apart right now. But you’re not broken. You’re… you’re just lost. And it’s okay to feel like that. You don’t have to have all the answers right away.”

Y/N shakes her head. “You’re wrong. I am broken, Minho. I’ve lost the one thing that gave me purpose. How can I be anything but broken?”

Minho’s heart aches, but he doesn’t step away. He doesn’t let go of her shoulder, grounding her as she trembles. “I don’t think you’re broken, Y/N,” he says softly. “I think you’re hurting. And that’s okay. It’s okay to hurt.”

She pulls away from him abruptly, her face flushed with frustration and sorrow. “You don’t get it. You’re not the one who had everything—everything—taken away in an instant. You don’t know what it feels like to lose yourself.”

Minho stands still, the weight of her words settling deep into his chest. “No, I don’t know what it feels like,” he admits. “But I do know that I’m not going to let you go through this alone. I may not be able to fix what’s broken, but I’ll be here to help you pick up the pieces. Even if you can’t see it now, I believe you’re strong enough to rebuild. I believe in you, Y/N.”

Y/N doesn’t know how to respond. Her anger and sorrow have clouded her judgment, making her feel like she’s trapped in a storm she can’t escape. Her gaze drifts to the window, where the soft evening light pours through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room. The stillness of the world outside is so far removed from the chaos in her heart.

“I didn’t choose this,” she murmurs again, this time more quietly, as if the words are a confession rather than an accusation. “I didn’t choose to be here… like this.”

Minho watches her carefully, his voice gentle. “No, you didn’t. But sometimes, life doesn’t give us a choice. All we can do is keep going, one step at a time.”

Y/N is silent for a long moment, her thoughts tangled in the mess of her grief and anger. Finally, she lifts her eyes to meet his, her gaze softened by the exhaustion of it all. There’s a flicker of something—something small but there—inside of her.

“I don’t know how to keep going,” she admits softly, her voice barely a whisper.

Minho steps forward, his heart aching for her, and pulls her into a hug. She stiffens at first, not used to accepting comfort, but after a few moments, she melts into his embrace, her body trembling with the weight of everything she’s been holding back.

“Then let me help you find your way,” Minho murmurs, his voice low and steady. “One step at a time.”

And for the first time in weeks, Y/N lets herself lean into someone, just a little, feeling the fragile thread of hope that Minho’s words offer. It’s not a solution. It’s not a cure. But it’s a start.

Minho knows that words won’t fix this. So, he takes her to the beach the next day—just the two of them, no distractions. Her arm is still in a sling, but they sit down on the shore, letting the sound of the waves fill the silence.

Y/N’s emotions are raw, and the weight of everything hits her again. The tears she’s been holding back finally spill over, and she doesn’t try to stop them. She doesn’t want him to look, but she can’t control it.

“I’m sorry,” she says through her sobs, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to burden you with all this. I don’t want to need you. I don’t want to need anyone.”

Minho doesn’t look at her. He knows. But he stays by her side, silent and steady.

When she calms down, he reaches out, gently cupping her face in his hands. She looks up at him, her eyes red from crying.

“You’re not a burden to me, Y/N,” he says softly. “I’m here for you. I’ll always be here.”

She shakes her head, her tears still fresh. “But I don’t know how to do this anymore. I don’t know how to be anything without archery.”

Minho smiles, his eyes filled with an understanding that she’s not ready to face yet. “You’ll find a new way. And if you need me, I’m here. We’ll figure it out together.”

“You’re still you,” he says softly. “And you’re going to find a way to be even more.”

Y/N swallows the lump in her throat, feeling a flicker of something deep inside her—a spark, barely there, but present. It’s not a solution, not even close. It’s just the tiniest glimmer of hope. But right now, that’s enough.

She takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself, and nods slowly. "I’m not sure what the future holds, Minho," she says, her voice quieter now. "But maybe, for the first time, I’m starting to think it’s okay not to have everything figured out."

Minho smiles, a small but genuine smile that reaches his eyes. “Good. Because you don’t have to have it all figured out. Not yet.”

They sit in silence again, letting the sound of the waves wash over them, and for the first time in a long while, Y/N doesn’t feel completely broken. She still doesn’t have all the answers, and she knows the road ahead won’t be easy. But with Minho by her side, maybe she doesn’t have to face it alone. Maybe, just maybe, there’s a way forward after all.

You’re dangerous with your bow anyway, he thought, you’re Cupid.

And you close your eyes, in peace.

#skz #stray kids #skz imagines #skz x reader #fics #skz scenarios #lee know #skz lee know #stray kids minho #skz minho #skz x you #skz stay #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfic #stray kids angst #angst

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orshii · 8 months ago

Text

Ready To Love

Author: orshii

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x female reader

Word count: 5,1 k

Summary: Soonyoung, your best friend and soulmate, lived and breathed football until a devastating injury shattered his dreams. Unable to cope with the loss, he pushed everyone away, including you. Now, faced with the challenge of bringing back the friend you once knew, you must navigate through his pain and rediscover the bond that once held you together. Will you succeed in resurrecting the old Soonyoung, or will his journey lead him down a different path?

A/N: This is my first Seventeen ff lol. Well...yesterday as soon as I woke up, I just needed to write something with Hoshi LMAO. Cause recently he killed me, I love this hair on him sooo much. And his style?? Let's not talk about that...It's just a little drabble I needed to write out of myself, it's not a big deal tho. The story was inspired by Seventeen's Ready To Love ofc, cause I'm in love with that song istg. Okaay bye. (divider)

Life's journey resembles a roller-coaster ride, filled with unexpected twists and turns, but we shall never lose ourselves along the way, if you do, you remain alone with your toxic thoughts, that slowly eat the remaining life out of you.

When the most important person in your life becomes the strangest person on Earth. My best friend couldn't stop the venom from spreading through his brain, poisoning it and making him believe he was nothing but a breeze of the dark autumn night. Soonyoung was a maximalist, football was his life it made him believe he was perfect, and that nothing could come his way.

But on a rainy game day, that promised a good future for him, he slipped on the wet green field and fell on the ground. Soonyoung's knee buckled beneath him as he slipped on the rain-soaked field, a sharp pain shooting through his leg, rendering him immobile amidst the downpour. Rain fell on his face in slow motion as he was screaming from the pain. That day was the end of the beginning of his career.

Since then, Soonyoung pushed everyone away from him who tried to approach him. Well, the ones he knew his whole life. His parents and me, I was his best friend. In past tense, because since the day of his injury, he did not want to talk to me. And the times when I tried to talk to him, he treated me like he didn't even know me. He looked down on me in front of his new troublemaker friends, making me feel like I was a clown trying to entertain them, whenever I tried to approach him at lunch breaks.

He has been my best friend since we were little. My parents introduced us when we were little to each other as Soonyoung's family lived opposite our house. Since that day we have been inseparable, we did everything together, even though we had different interests, him finding football as his lifesaver and me finding photography that helped me through difficult times of my life. We always adored each other's passion; he supported me whenever I wasn't sure if my photos were good enough. And I always attended his games to support and cheer for him, just be the first to congratulate him whenever they won.

Now that football wasn't there for him, he buried his cheerful past self deep down into his soul and a new careless Soonyoung came to the surface. He got into a new friend group, they were bad guys, and they always partied and got drunk whenever they had time. I couldn't recognize this Soonyoung, as neither did anyone who knew him before. He turned from a harmless hamster to a merciless tiger.

Our university’s football team had the last game of the year, everyone was excited and everyone attended to support their team. Except for one person and it was Soonyoung. The accident happened half a year ago and since Soonyoung isn't part of the team, they are bad, like really bad. They couldn't win a game; the team was falling apart without him. He was their fully trusted captain, who held the team together with his eagerness and his confident aura. Deep down I knew he was glad the team couldn't win without him, if he couldn't play then they deserved not to win.

The game was again a disaster as I watched it with my good friend, she was in the same major as me and we quickly became friends, photography connecting us. Watching the game everyone started to get bored, as winning the match was hopeless, they couldn't win, no matter how hard they tried.

They lost but that did not mean they couldn't throw a party for the sake of keeping the traditions. Everyone was invited, and it was held in a rich guy's house called Hongjoong, who was the new captain of the team, trying desperately to put the broken team's pieces together again. I kind of pitied him, because it was a very hard task breathing life to people who already lost hope. But he was known as a determined leader who would never disappoint his team, and it really seemed he was trying with his whole heart.

When we arrived at the party, my friend already got lost in the crowd as she was a real social butterfly, while I on the other side, liked the quieter places and fewer people. The living room was already full of students, most of them drunk, as they were dancing along to the loud music. Some random lights lighted the living room from time to time, for the sake of this seeming like a club. Through the sweating dancing bodies, I navigated myself to the kitchen to pour myself a drink. The furniture was all white and luxurious, I looked around as I searched for something to drink. I needed to relax a little, as recently I felt overwhelmed with everything I needed to do for the classes, project after project. I stayed up for nights, and on the days coffee was my only savior.

It was unhealthy, but Soonyoung wasn't the only one who got injured that day. Well, just theoretically, because my heart broke every time, I saw Soonyoung fall deeper into the dark and not let me in. It hurt because he was the only person in my life that understood me wholly. I tried to live without him, but it was hard. And seeing him laughing with his new friends made my heart fade into the dark.

"Woah, woah what did that whiskey do to you?" A strange voice brought me back to reality as I didn’t even realize I was pouring out the drink into a glass while I wandered off. I looked up just to meet with Hongjoong's sharp glaze, holding my wrist to stop me from pouring the drink that had already flown down to the kitchen counter.

"Oh—sorry, I got lost in my thoughts." I blushed in embarrassment, trying to find something I could clean the mess.

"It's okay, let me help you." He smiled at me and opened a cabinet to pull out a dry cloth to wipe the whiskey off.

I looked at him frowning. "How did you—", I hit my forehead as I realized this was his house.

He chuckled. "Yes, this is my house, I should know where my things are." He looked so adorable with his blonde hair falling into his eyes as he tilted his head down to clean up the mess I made. He looked so decent, as he was wearing a casual beige pullover paired with blue jeans with cuts on its knees, a lot of accessories in his ears, and on his fingers. When he was on the football field on match days, he always yelled at his team like a lion, trying to keep together his team, but now he looked nothing like that he was just a sweet guy.

"I'm so sorry again for making a mess." I ran my fingers through my hair.

"It's okay it happens." He finished the cleaning and took my glass to pour half of it into an empty glass.

He reached my glass towards me and took the other to his hands. "Let's drink then."

I chuckled at the fact of how casual he was, after all, I was just a stranger to him. "Cheers!" we clinked our glasses together and downed the whole drink in one go. The both of us were making a face when we finished the drink, from the bitter taste and the burning feeling it left behind. We both started to giggle looking at each other's faces.

Suddenly people streamed into the kitchen as we were laughing, one familiar guy in front looking straight into my eyes. I saw nothing from my past best friend. He looked completely different. His blonde hair which almost seemed like ash was hidden beneath a black cap that was turned backward. His ears were pierced, just as his eyebrows. He was wearing a black sweater, that was oversized, hiding his well-defined body, white crosses on its sleeves, that matched with his blue jeans, with black and white crosses on it. He was the total opposite of the old Soonyoung. He was glaring at me with sharp eyes, I saw a hint of disappointment evident. But I felt more of it, I just hated him with my whole heart.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Soonyoung clapped as he came closer to us in the kitchen.

"What are you doing here? You were not invited." Hongjoong stepped in front of me, hiding me from Soonyoung, preventing me from hunting me down.

Soonyoung laughed out loudly that sounded fake. "I thought everyone was invited to this party, Captain." He leaned down to Hongjoong, to be on the same height level as him. Their height difference was barely visible from the outside, but Soonyoung looked so intimidating it made the Captain look small. But he did not let it happen. He straightened up and stepped closer to Soonyoung grabbing his collar.

"Everyone is invited. Except you." Hongjoong hissed through his teeth. "Get the fuck out of here!" He raised his voice.

Soonyoung laughed again, sounding the same as before, there was no life in it. His eyes met with mine as he looked behind Hongjoong. His eyes on me made me freeze as if almost to death, it was so intimidating I just couldn't move. I wanted to scream at him, to hit him, to beg for his old self to come back. But all I could do was look back at him with no emotions on my face. Slowly, I turned away, mirroring his detachment. I buried my emotions deep alongside his old self.

"What if I don't want to?" Soonyoung stepped even closer to Hongjoong and pushed him on the chest, Hongjoong's back hitting the fridge.

"Enough! Get the fuck out of here Soonyoung, you are not welcome here." I yelled at him suddenly, surprising him with my sudden impact.

His eyes rounded for a slight second in surprise, probably because I never called him Soonyoung, since we were kids, I always called him Hoshi, he asked me to call him like that when he found out what it meant, since he was obsessed with stars, he always adored them. For a second, I thought that's it, that is my Hoshi, he is still there. But his sharp glare was back in the blink of an eye.

"Are you in search of a new emotional support to replace me?" His question sounded full with disgust. I just couldn't believe this person was my best friend.

After half a year, he couldn't tell me anything else other than to humiliate me and I felt sick, I just never wanted to see him again.

I stepped closer to him, our faces inches apart, I tilted my head up to glare at him with zero emotions.

"There's nothing to replace." I said to him as I pushed him on the chest and fought my way through the crowd that assembled in the kitchen, people were always in for the drama.

Every year our neighborhood gathers together as we are close to the end of the year. We just celebrate the year at the end of autumn so we can say goodbye together to the year. This is the reason I am sitting in the house of our neighbor next to us, watching as the adults talk with each other, not like I am not an adult, but I just hate the shallow conversations where they ask about my life and what I want to do in the future. They had nothing to do with my life then why did they ask the same questions every year?

In the past, it was fun. At least Hoshi made it fun, as we always hid in the corners to judge the people and gossip about them. Now, I was sitting here all day on the couch with a glass of fine wine in my hand, and judging the people around me alone. I didn't see Hoshi all day, but I knew he was here somewhere hiding in the corners or who knows where. His parents were here and I knew they made him come along not accepting no as an answer, they were very strict if I may say.

The sun was already down and I felt so bored all day, I couldn't wait for the moment when they were distracted enough so I could slip out to be free. And that moment came quickly as I saw my parents were talking with a man and I quickly slipped outside through the backdoor.

When I closed the door and turned around, I froze. Hoshi was sitting on the top of the stairs leaning forward on his knees a glass of wine in his hands. He was staring up at the sky looking for the stars that were hidden between the dark clouds. I hesitated, I just wanted to get out of there, but seeing Hoshi like this…He seemed so—vulnerable in this moment and I kind of wanted to take advantage of it.

So, I slowly approached him and sat next to him on the cold stairs. As he felt my presence, he didn't even look at me, he just looked down at the glass in his hands, his features seemed full of regret and shame. I didn't want to be the first to say something. I tried to imply that I was there if he wanted to tell me something because I really deserved that. I took him in, while he was deep in his thoughts, he was wearing the same black cap turned backward, his ashy hair that grew down to his nape lolling out from the cap. He was dressed up in full black clothes, a sweater with black writings on its chest, and its sleeves decorated with white flowers, paired with black oversized pants and black sneakers. A cross was hanging from his neck that swung between him and the glass he was holding.

"Why are you here?" He breaks the silence, his voice unstable.

"Just wanted to escape from inside, it's boring." I hated him, but seeing him like this I couldn't be mean to him.

Hoshi just nodded still analyzing the glass in his hands.

"And you?" I asked looking at his sharp side profile, his cheekbones puffy like a hamster.

He shrugged. "My parents won't let me go home and it's boring without—" He stopped when he realized what he was about to say. He seemed angry at himself at that as I was observing him. He was drunk and, in this state, it felt like the old Hoshi was screaming at this person next to me to let him out of the prison he made. I knew my Hoshi was still there I just needed to somehow fight with this poisoned Hoshi.

"You know this shit is very boring without you. There's no one I could gossip with about Uncle Chanyeol's third wife." I said what he didn't finish and tried to lessen the sour mood a bit.

At that, he snapped his head up to look at me with surprised eyes. There he was, the Hoshi I loved so much. Many emotions went through his face as he took me in, finally looking into my eyes, finally seeing me after half a year.

"Well, the second was much uglier not gonna lie." He said looking back at the glass as he downed it until the last drops.

I hummed. "Not to be a bad person but he looks like a witch, who would curse you the second you stay alone with her."

And Hoshi laughed out wholeheartedly, that made my heart whole again. The sound of his laughter puzzled the pieces of my heart together. It made me realize how important he was in my life, and how much of an influence he was in my life. Everything he did affected me, even if it was good or bad, I felt the same way as him. I felt like he was my soulmate and if he was hurt I was hurt as well. It made me realize that I loved him so much not just as my best friend but as my soulmate. But after he pushed me, it faded. And I hoped it'd be gone in seconds, but as I heard him laugh again, made me realize it was never going to fade.

I smiled, hearing him laugh sincerely again, knowing it wasn't fake. Then as he realized what he was doing, his laughter faded into a smile and his smile faded into a thin line.

"You shouldn't speak to me." The sour Hoshi from moments ago had returned.

"Yeah…I shouldn't." I looked down at my hands fiddling with my rings taking in the sour emotions Hoshi was feeling.

"You know…" He broke the silence that fell on us, looking up at the sky. "…I always wanted to be perfect, and I truly believed I was, just until…" He looked down at his hands again as he tried to hold his tears back. I just listened to him, letting him speak whatever he wanted out of his heart.

"I'm so tired, I'm so tired of pretending everything is fine, Y/N." He buried his face into his hands, sobbing.

Tears started to appear immediately in my eyes seeing him like this. I scooted closer to him and hugged him, pulling him to my chest as he was still sobbing. "It fucked up everything— a-and I don't know what to do with my life anymore." He mumbled into the crock of my neck, wetting it with sour tears that made my heart break again.

"I know, I know it's hard Hoshi." I caressed his back up and down as I leaned my head on top of his, staring into the dark and chilly night. "There's life outside of football too. You can't just push away everyone you love, because some shit happened to your life. It's not fair and you know that."

He was quiet for a few moments, to take my words in and slowly lifted his head to look into my eyes. His eyes were red and puffy, his eyes barely visible, as the tears were still flowing down his puffy cheekbone, his lips trembling a little from the flow of emotions. "I-I know I fucked up and you have no idea how much I regret it. Pushing away my real friends and my parents. But mostly you, Y/N." One tear flew down his face again.

I slowly reached my hand towards his cheeks and cupped it just to wipe the sour tears away from his face. "I'm sorry for pushing you away…I really miss you, you being by my side all the time…" His eyes still stared deeply into mine.

I sighed, detaching my hands from his face, and letting it fall onto my lap. "I miss you too, Hoshi. But…you really treated me like shit, it hurt you know." I tried to blink away the tears that tried to escape.

"I know, I know, I was such an asshole, please forgive me.” He turned towards me. “You really deserve better than that…" He said reaching for my hands, but along the way, he knocked over the glass that was between us. It made me realize he was just drunk and who knows tomorrow he is going to be the asshole Hoshi again.

I smiled at him sadly. "Go home Hoshi and sleep." I stood up and left him there without waiting for an answer.

Days later, it was already late at night when my phone rang just as I arrived home and parked my car, after a tiring day, as I was at classes all day and learning for the exams at the library. I sighed as I turned the engine off to pick up my phone, where the name of Hoshi's mother showed. I frowned as I picked it up.

"Y/N, darling, I'm glad you picked it up." Her voice seemed hurried and full of concern.

"Hi, what happened?" I asked her, leaving the formalities behind ages ago, as she treated me like I was her other daughter.

"I just wanted to ask, if you saw Hoshi today. We've been looking for him all day, but his phone is off and we don't know where he is." I heard as her voice got a little weaker.

"I saw him last night, but that's all, I'm sorry," I said looking down at my hands, running through the maze of my thoughts.

"Oh, okay, maybe it's better if I call the police, I am very concerned." Her voice deepened as she was thinking. "Anyways, thank you Y/N, I hope you are okay, we miss you." She wanted to hang up but I stopped her.

"Wait—, I might— I might know where he is, give me an hour and I'll find him," I said a little hurriedly as a place appeared in my head.

"Okay, thank you so much, Y/N." She seemed a little relieved at that.

I hung up the phone and quickly started the engine of my car, just to drive through the town to a place no one would search for Hoshi. And it was the football field. It sounds ridiculous but, why would anyone search for him there? When he didn’t step on that field since his injury happened?

When I arrived there, I still had doubts about him being at the field. But all my doubts disappeared when I saw him on the barely lit field, the moon above him shining at his presence. I approached the fence that separated us and just observed him as he was facing me, but he couldn't see me as the darkness hugged me around.

He was standing in the middle of the field the ball in his hands; he was wearing black shorts and a beige sweater on top the black cap never leaving his head. He squeezed it like he wanted to drown it like it could've helped make his misery better. Then he lifted his right hand in the air and threw the ball into the chilly air, his first intuition was to run after the ball, and he tried, but his knees buckled and he fell on the ground. My heart broke at the image of him breaking on the field of his dreams, I couldn't watch him suffer anymore. I stepped on the field slowly; he was still lying down with his face down and his shoulders were shaking. I walked towards the ball and took it in my hands. Then I walked towards him soundlessly.

"Hey!" I yelled at him while I was walking towards him. He snapped his head up at the sound. "Catch the ball!" I said not leaving him to think as I threw the ball towards him.

He quickly stood up, wincing from the pain, that his still unhealed, injury caused, and caught the ball.

"What are you doing here?" He tried to turn away from me, so I wouldn't see his face that screamed he was crying.

"The question is mine." I folded my arms together frowning at him.

He shrugged. "Needed to clear my head." He looked down at the ball and picked at some strings on it, not daring to look into my eyes.

"Your family is searching for you."

"I know." He spoke. "But I just wanted to get away from home."

"Why?"

"Because they want to control my life, and I can't stand it anymore." He turned away from me, looking up at the sky.

"Well, at least they are doing it, instead of you." I said stepping closer to him.

He suddenly threw the ball to the green grass with a wave of anger the ball almost bounced back to his hands.

"Hoshi, what is going on with you? It's not you." I said trying to stay calm.

"Well, you have to live with this, because this is me." He yelled at me turning towards me and pointing at himself.

My heart started to race, he kind of scared me. "No, it isn’t you, you changed." My voice got quieter as I stared down at the ground. Now I was the one not daring to look into his eyes.

"People change, and then what?" He lifted his arms in the air frowning.

"You act ridiculous, you know? You lost football and now you think you are a nobody?" I scoffed at him in disbelief.

"Football was the only thing that made me feel alive." He lifted his hands and turned around showing the field. "You can't fucking understand what am I going through." He pointed at me raising his voice.

I scoffed. "No, I really can't understand Hoshi." I looked deep into his eyes. "But I really tried to be by your side after your injury but you just threw me away just like that fucking ball.

“I pointed at the ball in his hands. "I get it, I get that football was your life, but life sometimes sucks and you have to live with it, it can't be perfect…" My voice cracked as the emotions flew through me. "…nothing can be perfect Hoshi, neither can you…"

Tears started to appear in my eyes and I turned around. "You are on your own now." As soon as I turned tears flew down my face, and my heart broke into a million pieces again, but it was worse than everything beforehand because hope left my soul as well leaving nothing behind but dust.

I was near the fence where the exit was when I heard him.

"Y/N, wait!" He yelled after me, but I just closed him out.

All of a sudden all I could feel was that I was being pushed against the fence, which made a loud noise, as it echoed around us like bird chirping. His face was close to mine, his hands on both sides of my waist as he pushed me against the fence.

"Please listen to me." His voice was barely a whisper, that I felt on my lips.

I didn't say anything as I was too stunned being this close to him, his dark peachy scent hugged me around, making me feel woozy.

"I'm confused, okay?" His hands left my waist and he supported himself on the fence on both sides of my head. "It's…" He sighed and took off his cap with his right hand to run his fingers through his silver hair. This hair color fitted him so well, he changed but it was still him. He threw his cap on the ground now his hair falling into his eyes as he looked at me. "It's not just about football. It's about you Y/N."

My heart started to race quickly as I just looked at him with wide eyes.

He leaned closer. "The reason I pushed you away was because I wanted to be more than friends. And I knew you didn't want that." He leaned his forehead against mine. “I couldn't be friends with you anymore so I pushed you away before I fell in love with you more." His voice was low as he closed his eyes. "I was not ready for love, not when I knew you weren't as well." He whispered it and I barely could hear what he said.

"But," he continued not letting me say a word. "I realized I can’t live without you, because you are my escape from this fucked-up world and you are my purpose on this earth. I know that my life won't suck if you are by my side and that with your help, I can put my life together again." His voice crackled as tears formed in his eyes when he opened them again.

I was stunned to speak; I never could've imagined that Hoshi was thinking of me like that. But at the same, I was waiting for this moment my whole life.

"You are so stupid, Hoshi," I said the first thing that came to my mind after I gathered my thoughts. I reached my hands towards his swollen face and cupped it.

"I was in love with you my whole life," I said to him honestly.

His barely visible eyes rounded his mouth fell open, he looked so adorable. "Are you joking?"

"No, I'm not. Well, I'm sure it wasn't that deep when we were kids, but…since we grew up and started university together I fell in love with you deeper as the days passed Hoshi, and I couldn't help it." I looked down on the ground feeling shy as I just put my heart out in front of him. "My heart broke when you pushed me away…"

He slowly reached his hands towards my waist, squeezing it reassuringly, and leaned his forehead against mine. "I am so sorry, Y/n, for being so stupid, I won't ever forgive myself for treating you like that." He whispered onto my lips, his cold breath against mine, our cold breaths mixed just to melt into each other.

"You deserve the whole world, Y/N. And please let me give you the world, forgive me." He whispered the last few words, coming out like forgotten promises.

I smiled at him as if my eyes were sparkling from the happiness I felt. "Are you ready for love?"

He smiled fondly and looked at me like I was his whole world. "I'm ready for love. Can we stay together forever? I will give—"

"Just kiss me already you idiot." I interrupted him impatiently.

He chuckled and cupped my face, just to push me more into the fence that hurt my back, but not until one of his hands reached behind my back to pull me off the fence, body flesh against his. My lips curved into a sincere smile. I couldn't believe my soulmate had just confessed to me and promised me the world.

"You give me purpose." He whispered onto my lips like sweet promises and closed the distance between our parted lips. When his lisp met mine, the world stopped spinning, everything slowed down, the clocks stopped ticking, and the rivers stopped flowing. Everything stopped. It was just the two of us in this world, as he promised me the world, and with this kiss, he gave it to me. His lips moved against mine slowly, passionately, like he wanted to carve this moment into the history books, where two best friends went through ups and downs just like a roller-coaster, so in the end, they were finally ready to love each other wholeheartedly, staying together forever.

*Ateez masterlist*

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