#so now it’s officially linked lol

[rendiggitydog]

Big update! Change log is in the tags, plus a much cleaner look!

Doc link

[jaybirdsandbabybats]

linke saying viktor is ace as an excuse to deter the jayvik shippers man shut the hell up. you can be gay and ace. you can be gay and ace and still be sex positive.

dude can just straight up say "i dont like jayvik but if you see it that way i don't know what to say" instead of starting fires with all his non-answers in interviews

[jula483]

Rhett & Link Present: The Mythical Cookbook

March 11th 2024

[lostmykeysie]

so i disappeared for three months because i was going through a divorce!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! my muse up and left me!!!!! i was left with our two kids, the missing link and two knights defence, not to mention our eldest, the horcrux hunt, who despite being complete still needs some help. it was overwhelming and it came out of nowhere and i've now sworn off women, but if you know any hot sexy singles in the area to help me take my mind off it, please send them in my direction and i will make an exception, or possibly many many exceptions, because i love women

in other news, i just posted the final chapter of the missing link

[exoscreamsoda]

i really really want there to be a crazy plottwist where they make daniel a blood relative to lestat or louis and thats one of the reasons louis was so intrigued by him. do i have any basis for this thought? no. have i read the books? clearly not.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Blood of the Hero Ch 12 (Link's parents play botw)

Summary: The Soul of the Hero will always be there to save Hyrule. But when Calamity Ganon is nearly victorious in killing him, it's those that bear the Blood of the Hero who will prevail. Ten years after the Great Calamity, the Shrine of Resurrection is damaged and Link's parents fight to save their son and Hyrule along with him.

AO3 link

To Kakariko - Familiar Faces

"Get her out of here. You can't win this fight. Not here, not like this. Go to Fort Hateno, Link. We'll rally the troops there and figure something out."  

The air was so filled with ash and smoke it practically choked him as Castle Town burned. The sound of distant guardian fire and people’s screams rang in his ears. His exhaustion was so prevalent he could sleep and never wake up right then and there. His heart was so broken he almost wished for death. But his determination was even stronger, his concern for Link and the princess paramount. Link’s worried expression cut into him far more than a guardian’s beam ever could. The boy’s eyes, filled with sorrow, glittered with something else at his words, though.

Abel was doing more than just giving an order, he was giving the boy hope. Link latched on to the words, his face growing stony with conviction. Abel pat his cheek lightly and gave what little bit of a smile that he could muster. "I'll meet you there, okay?"

His son watched him, his façade cracking a hair, his breath hitching for just a moment. Abel slid his hand behind his boy's head, pulling him close so their foreheads rested against each other, and they both closed their eyes for a moment. "Keep her safe. Do your duty, Link. Now, go."

T he moment was lost, and Link pulled away. He took a slow, deep, steadying breath, and then nodded. With renewed resolve, he turned quickly, rushing to Princess Zelda and grabbing her by the wrist, pulling her away from Abel, away from the castle, away from the city and the ruins and the disaster all around them. The princess followed helplessly, tears staining her cheeks as she turned back to look one last time at her home, her kingdom, before they vanished around a corner.

Abel awoke stiff and sore and disoriented. Images of Castle Town faded into the dust that was lazily floating in the sunlight. Everything was too soft and warm; it instantly made his insides squirm. It felt foreign and unsafe. Reaching forward, he found himself clawing at air where Link and Tilieth had been, and cold adrenaline shot through him like ice, making him nearly fall out of the bed in his haste to get up. His chest screamed in protest, and he doubled over, leaning on a small table for a second to catch his breath.

Kakariko. They made it to Kakariko. He’d nearly forgotten. But where was his family?

Abel quickly slid some boots on. Heading outside, he saw that the sun was fairly high in the sky, and his anxiety grew tenfold. How long had he been asleep? What had happened in that time?

“Captain Abel.”

Turning, Abel saw one of the Sheikah warriors from yesterday. Before he could get a word in, the warrior continued, “Your wife and the Champion are with Lady Impa in her residence. Would you like me to escort you?”

He didn’t need an escort. It was ten steps away from the inn. Abel shook his head, continuing on, all other courtesy forgotten. It was a somewhat chilly morning with the wind blowing, and it stung against his face. He hastily ran up the stairs and entered the abode.

Link was settled on a bunch of pillows on the floor, slumbering still. Tilieth sat at his head, hands tracing through his hair, gently brushing it while Lady Impa and someone unfamiliar knelt at his side facing toward the door.

Lady Impa glanced up, somber face pulling in surprise at hearing Abel’s entrance, and then she gave a tired smile. “Good morning, Captain. I hope you slept well.”

“What are you doing?” Abel asked.

“This is Kollin, our healer,” Lady Impa said, motioning to the man beside her. “I was speaking with your wife about the situation.”

Abel approached the group slowly, his heart finally slowing to a normal rate. Tilieth smiled up at him.

Staring down at Link, stripped nearly bare, let Abel look his wounds over as well. They didn’t seem much different than they had when they’d left the plateau, but somehow Link at least looked less pale. Also, the pressure wounds from his harness seemed a little better. Something had to be happening.

“His wounds are grievous indeed,” the healer commented as his eyes looked over the boy.

Princess Mipha could’ve healed him, his mind thought, and his heart tore a little at the words. The demure Zora princess had always been a kind, gentle soul. Abel had rarely seen her in battle, but it seemed particularly unfair that she had been dragged into the war and murdered in such a horrifying way. He didn’t know what specifically had happened in the Divine Beasts, but given how the guardians had been taken over and no support had arrived, he could guess well enough.

“Can you do anything?” Tilieth questioned hopefully.

“There are elixirs I could make,” the healer proposed. “He’d have to be awake to ingest them, though. Beyond that, it’s up to him. His wounds are wrapped and cleaned – I cannot change the natural healing process.”

“Your ancestors could,” Abel cut in, crossing his arms. “I’m more concerned about your technology than your healers, Lady Impa. The shrines are healing him. We need to know where they all are.”

Impa sighed. “The best solution would be to repair the Shrine of Resurrection. If it’s damaged… the best ones to fix it would be my sister or Robbie. But as I said yesterday, I haven’t been in contact with them since the Calamity. We were fighting our own war down here, too. The guardians came to Kakariko from the west. They completely destroyed Lakna Rokee Settlement and burned the hillside. We held them off, but… my mother was killed in the fight, and I became chief. I had to help rebuild the village. Purah stayed longer than Robbie, but even she left after a year.”

Abel chewed his tongue a little to hold back the bite in his tone before saying, “The Shrine is destroyed. Link will die before we can hunt anyone down, let alone before it can be repaired. I need to know where the smaller shrines are.”

The Sheikah chief furrowed her brow thoughtfully, her head tipping down to look at Link. The metal adornments of her hat jingled, filling the silence as Abel felt dread bubble in his chest.

“I… don’t know the location of all the shrines,” Lady Impa said slowly. “Not many were apparent before the Calamity. It seems more have appeared since then. I assume that was your doing, based on what Tilieth’s told me.”

Whatever help Abel had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t this. Why had the king even directed them here? The dread fizzled out, replaced by an ever-growing frustration.

“I can show you the one here,” the chief continued. “And I can try to map out the few I know of that Princess Zelda visited.”

“In the meantime, I’ll make some elixirs for Sir Link,” the healer said, rising. “And perhaps a few for you two as well, for your journey.”

Their journey. Their journey. Abel… had known, yes, that they would be on a journey to find the shrines for Link, but going to Kakariko had seemed a bit more of a main goal, an endpoint that would give them all the information they needed so they could start anew with everything in hand. It had at least promised some sort of guidance and assistance.

Tilieth smiled. “Thank you for your help.”

The former knight almost let out a bitter laugh. Help? What help? Pointing out one or two places we can try to reach in a land scorched by malice and crawling with enemies? Do we even know how many shrines there are?!

He was tempted to ask for at least a warrior escort to assist them, but at this point he didn’t trust them enough to even consider it. Besides, it might attract too much attention, assuming there were people with ill intentions wandering the countryside.

Such as…

“What of the Yiga?” Abel asked suddenly.

Lady Impa stared at him, a little baffled. “The Yiga? What of those traitors?”

“Have you heard anything about their movements?”

The chief shook her head. “No. The whole world was almost destroyed. For once, I think even they are just trying to survive. I hope they were wiped out, honestly.”

As do I. Abel sighed, nodding. “Let’s go to this shrine, then.”

With that, he helped Tilieth dress Link once more and carried him outside. Lady Impa led the group up the cliffs, which allowed for a beautiful view of a good portion of Hyrule. It didn’t boast the same vastness and scope as Tilieth’s favorite perch just outside the Shrine of Resurrection, but it did give Abel a moment of pause.

A moment to remember what it looked like before all this.

Abel had only been to Kakariko Village once before in his life, and it was when he’d been assigned as part of the royal guard that would accompany Princess Zelda to the village. This was before Link had been appointed her knight. She had been fairly young, fourteen or so. The village had seemed so much livelier then. It had also been more populated.

Bitterness swelled inside of him, the same old friend that seemed to accompany him on bad days. He swallowed hard, looking away. When Tilieth slid Link’s hand and the slate across the access pad, Abel walked first into the darkness of the shrine.

Having Lady Impa accompany them down into this new trial was at least different, though he wasn’t sure how helpful it would be. Not that he hadn’t seen the woman fight – Lady Impa was an impressive warrior. He just…

He didn’t trust anyone anymore, he supposed. And at this point, with as little as she could offer, he’d given up on relying on anyone else for assistance.

The voice that reverberated in the chamber spoke a different message this time, leaving the former knight on edge. “To you who sets foot in this shrine… I am Ta’loh Naeg. I share with you my knowledge, that it may please Hylia.”

“That’s… different,” Tilieth noted. “We don’t have to do anything?”

“You usually have to do something?” Lady Impa asked.

“Yes,” Abel answered slowly, lowering Link to the floor. Two chests flanked the entrance, and he hesitantly went to one. He was happily surprised to find a Sheikah blade in it.

Finally, some useful treasure.

“The trial, of course!” Lady Impa clapped her hands together. “Stories say that this shrine held an ancient trial for Sheikah warriors!”

“Maybe you should do it, then?” Tilieth suggested hesitantly, glancing at Abel.

Abel felt his hackles raise, but before he could protest, the chief nodded. Abel stepped forward, but Til put a hand to his chest, somehow managing to put pressure right where his ribs were bruised. He coughed and grimaced immediately, catching her attention.

“Are you hurt?” she asked quietly as Lady Impa walked by, unaware. “We need to talk to the healer.”

“I’m fine,” he snapped. “But I’ll let her do it. Since apparently I’m too feeble to handle a Sheikah trial now.”

“It’s their tradition,” Tilieth argued hesitantly, expression worried. “And it gives us a break. She’s on our side too, Abel, remember?”

Abel sighed heavily.

As Lady Impa approached the center of the room, the gap in the floor was filled with a rising arena and miniature guardian awaiting her. Abel and Tilieth, despite their aversion to the mechanical beasts, were growing accustomed to the sight in these trials.

He supposed they should have warned the chief about it.

Lady Impa gasped, going rigid, before she charged ahead, slashing viciously at the guardian. Abel squinted, noticing that this one was designed differently from the others, and it did nothing to defend itself. The monk’s voice spoke again, giving fighting instructions.

It’s not a duel, it’s a lesson. Of course. He did say he was trying to impart knowledge.

It was a very basic lesson, though. Lady Impa picked up on it quickly, realizing her attacks were futile but the enemy wasn’t retaliating. She followed the instructions, one by one, until she destroyed the small foe. This time, when it shattered, its blade remained intact, piquing Abel’s curiosity.

After all, such a blade could be useful.

Abel collected the blade while Tilieth collected something from the other chest, plopping it into her pouch.

“We won’t have room to carry all your trinkets, you know,” Abel remarked dully.

Tilieth only smiled and winked.

Abel was the last to reach the final room as he had to pick Link back up, but Lady Impa’s surprised squeal was enough indication that the other two had made it to the monk.

“H-he’s… this is… different,” Impa said, clearly disturbed at the sight of the decomposed Sheikah monk.

“This is normal,” Tilieth explained. “So far, all the shrines have a monk in them at the end. They give Link a Spirit Orb. Watch.”

The monk spoke of a hero rising from the ashes of Hyrule before granting the orb. Link twitched a little, as if when the orb shattered was akin to being splashed with a big raindrop. Abel rested his forehead against the boy’s cheek in reassurance, though he doubted Link could feel it. With that, the group was transported outside, Lady Impa shaking from head to foot.

“What just—?” she tried to question, looking around wildly.

“The shrine kicks you out when you’re done,” Abel quipped, stepping into the grass. “Let’s go. The healer should be ready by now, I imagine.”

“Kollin’s elixirs take some time to m-make,” Lady Impa explained shakily, still getting used to the sensation of being teleported. “B-but—but I imagine he’ll be done by evening.”

Evening?! They were going to lose an entire day? This was absurd. Abel could see another shrine down in the valley from here. He wasn’t going to wait.

“That’s all right,” Tilieth said cheerfully. “I can cook some meals with the ingredients I gathered. Best to have supplies ready for… well, for everything.”

Abel garnered some satisfaction in the way his wife’s voice faltered, and he wasn’t entirely sure why. Maybe it was because she was entirely too chipper about this whole mess. Why wasn’t she as upset as he was, why did she think this was fine? She’d said herself that the Sheikah would be able to��

To what? To fix this issue? What sort of naivete had led Abel to think anyone could fix anything at this point?

Get yourself together, he snapped at himself. They still had an objective; the situation wasn’t entirely hopeless.

He supposed he… had expected more help than this. If the king had mentioned Lady Impa would guide them, then he’d, well…

He’d expected the king to be true to his word. But he wasn’t. And it wasn’t the first time.

The bitterness swelled, roaring like a foul beast, and Abel swallowed hard again, biting his tongue.

Lady Impa and Tilieth were babbling now, speaking of shrines and monks, and Abel found himself too weary to care. He walked down the path back to the village with Link resting comfortably on his back before turning right and heading towards the view of the valley once more. At least here he could enjoy some silence.

The trail led to a large collection of stones, Sheikah names inscribed on them, with one towering above the rest.

A memorial for the Sheikah lost in the Calamity.

Crickets chirped and birds sang, their voices carried in the wind, echoing in the silence of Abel’s mind as words were hard to find at the moment. He remembered the bodies of the Sheikah warriors he’d buried on the Great Plateau, the two who remained to help him defend the Shrine of Resurrection from the guardians who had invaded the sacred place. He remembered Castle Town burning along with the rest of Central Hyrule.

He recalled Link, broken and bloodied nearly beyond recognition.

The smell of ash and smoke filled his nostrils, and his throat tightened. He looked to his right and saw Hyrule once more, its landscape a patchy mixture of green and scorched brown and black. The orange glow of two shrines stood out amidst the scars of the land, and energy filled the former captain of the royal guard.

Marching back into the village, Abel saw Tilieth alone now, standing in the center of town. She smiled brightly when she saw him. “Abel, there you are! Come here, let me hold Link, I want to pray.”

“We don’t have time for that,” Abel said dismissively.

“You need to be more patient,” his wife giggled, seemingly unbothered by this entire day. “It’ll be fast. Besides, you need to eat! I made some breakfast for you, if you want some.”

He couldn’t argue the latter issue as his stomach growled, and so he slowly let Tilieth take their son in exchange for a small meal. He finished it within a couple bites, returning his attention to his family to see Til sitting on the ground in front of the goddess statue, Link’s head in her lap.

The image struck him for some reason. It wasn’t as if Til hadn’t prayed to Hylia many times over the years. Abel himself used to pray to her fairly often. Every once in a while his heart stirred enough to try again when they were on the plateau. But now…

Now it seemed like a giant divine joke.

Princess Zelda was supposedly a descendant of Hylia, an inheritor of the divine power to seal away the darkness. Yet she couldn’t activate it in time.

Link was Hylia’s precious chosen hero, destined to fight the darkness and prevail. Yet she didn’t support him when the time came.

Abel had prayed time and again for his family’s safety. Yet his daughter was dead, his son close to it, and the one thing that could have saved him had been destroyed.

And now… now when he’d finally thought Hylia had shown them a path when things seemed the bleakest… Lady Impa had little to nothing to give.

“We need to leave,” he said curtly, eyes darkening.

“Oh, Abel,” Tilieth huffed, a little exasperated.

And that was what did it.

The bitterness and pain swirling in his gut returned with a searing passion, and fire spilled form his mouth. “Don’t talk to me in such a patronizing tone like I’m the child between the two of us. I’m the one who has been trying to keep everyone alive. I’m not the fool who runs about giggling like this is a game. I don’t place hope in false goddesses who only seem to take pleasure in torturing us, and I'm not as idiotic as you’re choosing to be! How can you just sit there and be fine with all of this? Do you even care about Link?! Why do I have to be the one to push to move forward, to—to—”

Words became increasingly difficult, choked out in a rage that was steadily growing along with his tone of voice. The area grew unnaturally quiet as Tilieth seemed to shrivel under his shadow.

His wife watched him, eyes wide, face stricken, tears steadily spilling, cheeks flushed. “You think—what makes you think I don’t—Abel—”

“Don’t even argue with me about it, it’s true!” Abel continued, even though his mind and heart had taken a distinct change in tone. It was as if he couldn’t stop himself anymore, like he knew what he was doing was wrong, but it was already happening and it was akin to a boulder making its way down a mountain. “You pray and you pray, and you speak to the winds, and you place hope in people who have no right to it, and you act as if everything is fine when it’s not!!”

He couldn’t bear to be in this village any longer, couldn’t bear to continue this conversation any longer, couldn’t bear to see Tilieth look so hurt, couldn’t bear to feel so hurt. He turned sharply on his heel, finding Ama grazing lazily and mounting her before tearing out of the area entirely.

The rain began anew, pelting against his face, making him shiver and ache, but he pushed Ama to run all the harder. His surroundings blurred as he steadily grew soaked, his steed couldn’t run fast enough, his heart couldn’t beat hard enough, the rain wasn’t loud enough, he wasn’t angry enough, nothing was enough—

The rain stopped, bringing forth sunlight, startling him into focus just in time to realize where his horse had taken him.

Blatchery Plain.

Abel’s breathing sped up until it started to hitch, one hiccup after another. He shakily slid off Ama and walked amidst the carnage, his body trembling from head to toe.

The guardians stood all around, frozen in that final moment in time, a testament to the princess’ divine power.

All Abel could see was how much it must have hurt. How terrifying it must have been. How much Link must have been hoping Abel would arrive as promised and save him.

Hyperventilating gave way to sobs, and Abel collapsed onto his hands and knees.

Goddess above, what he wouldn’t give to get Link and Lyra back, what he wouldn’t give to prevent the Calamity from ever happening, what he wouldn’t give to never feel like this again.

Why? Why?!

Abel cried until he had no tears left, until it hurt to breathe let alone weep, until he felt so utterly drained he might as well have been awake for a month. Something soft and warm nuzzled him, neighing and grunting softly, and he blindly reached up to stroke Ama’s face. The horse pushed against him again and Abel leaned into it, wrapping both arms around her neck as he tried to get some control over himself. The horse, despite being tamed only recently, was surprisingly patient in the hold, and it gave Abel the grounding he needed to finally regulate his breathing.

When he stood, he huffed out a wet, tired chuckle, petting the horse’s neck. “Thank you, girl.”

The horse huffed, bobbing and headbutting him gently in the chest, and Abel suddenly realized that this was not, in fact, Ama.

Ama was a black mare, with hair that was dark like the night sky. While this steed had charcoal hair, it was longer, with a dark chestnut coat save for white around its hooves.

There was a small scar on its front left shoulder, distinctly patterned, a downward circular slice as if a curved blade had tried to cut it.

Curved like a Yiga sickle. The only curved blade Abel was really familiar with.

Abel blinked. Stared at the scar, the familiar scar on the familiar horse.

“Epona…?” he breathed, looking up into the horse’s brown eyes.

The mare’s ears perked forward and she whinnied softly, tail flicking in acknowledgement. Ama roamed behind her, grazing.

Hylia above, it… it was Epona. This was Link’s horse.

How had…? Abel shook his head. He wasn’t going to question it.

And with that thought, shame immediately filled him. Because he… had questioned everything. Again and again and again. More than that, though, he knew without a doubt that he’d hurt Tilieth.

Abel glanced at the sky. He… couldn’t say thank you, but he would at least temper the bitter thoughts in his mind. Maybe this was actually a good sign, after all.

He didn’t dare hope, but…

“It’s good to see you again, girl,” he finally settled for saying. Epona bumped her head against him once more. “Let’s get you to your rider.”

XXX

Tilieth sat on the ground alone.

When soft footsteps approached her, she didn’t bother to look up and acknowledge them.

“Tilieth…?”

The voice belonged to Impa.

Tilieth just stared at Link, hands tangled in his hair, breaths shaky but regular.

“I, uh…” Impa continued somewhat awkwardly. “I’m sorry.”

Sorry? What was she sorry for? This wasn’t her fault. None of it was any of their faults.

Til wished Abel would just understand that.

Her heart ached and burned. She felt so unbelievably alone in that moment, despite the comfort the Sheikah chief was trying to offer. Tilieth had always been surrounded by love and support her entire life until the Calamity, and then all she’d had was her husband.

And now even he was leaving her.

That’s not true and you know it, she reminded herself, despite tears beginning to spill out of her eyes, despite the way her breath started to hitch.

Why couldn’t Abel understand? Tilieth had been terrified to leave the Plateau, and yet he was upset at her for trying to find joy and hope wherever they went? Why couldn’t he just—why did he have to be—

Tilieth cried, leaning over her son.

“Look, I—I don’t know you, but,” Impa stumbled over her words clumsily, hand resting comfortingly on Til’s back. “But I can see how much you love Link, how much you want to help him. I… I know he’ll be in good hands since he’s with you.”

Tilieth wished she could thank her for her kindness, but words never came to her in these moments. She often hated that, hated that she had passed it on to Link.

Link’s silence leading up to the Calamity had been twofold and Tilieth had known it. Sure, he’d been stoic and calm just like his father, but underneath she could see the anxiety. Abel was quiet in his worries, too, but he’d take them out through anger and work. Link did that too, but also, like Til, he just shut down.

It didn’t make a difference now, she supposed, but she wished dearly she knew how to stop it. Impa at least deserved acknowledgement.

But Tilieth was so tired. She was so tired of having to hunt for hope and light, of having to be the one to bring it to everyone else. Why couldn’t others find joy in the world too and share it with her? Why did Abel have to be the way he was?

Why did any of this have to be the way it was? Why couldn’t Link just wake up, why couldn’t Lyra just be alive, why couldn’t her father be here to help her still?

“Why… why don’t we just go back to my home?” Impa offered. “Or—or the inn?”

Tilieth really just wanted a hug from her loved ones, honestly, but the kindness Impa was offering still warmed her heart. She nodded, sniffling, and let Impa pick up her son.

“Huh. I never expected Link to be so light,” Impa muttered, staring at him. “I mean, he’s so muscular and all. Or, well…”

He had been, yes. Before he’d started fading away into death’s embrace after the Shrine had been damaged. His muscles were still there, but much smaller, and he’d definitely started to lose weight.

Tilieth burst into tears anew.

“O-oh—uh, it’s okay!” Impa hastily said. “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

Impa sighed as Tilieth tried to control herself.

“I… I really am sorry,” Impa repeated, her voice much less frantic now. “Link’s my friend. I hate seeing him like this too. But… but I do mean what I said. I know you care about him and that he’s in good hands. It makes me feel better to know you’re taking care of him.”

“Y-you…” Tilieth tried to push the words out of her tight throat, rubbing her face to wipe the tears away. “You two were friends?”

“Yeah!” Impa eagerly answered, nodding. “We traveled a little bit together. One time I dared Link to eat a whole roast pig at one of the feasts people provided for the princess and he did it! Another time while we were traveling, he let me put flowers in his hair to cheer up the princess.”

The image of Link with flowers in his hair made Tilieth giggle. She tried to latch on to the idea, to the sweetness of the memory, the gentle love in the gesture, rather than the thought that she would never see such a scene. Her gaze returned to the statue of Hylia.

Oh, Hylia. I… I’m sorry to ask, but please… just… help us. I know you’ve been looking out for us, and I apologize to ask for more, but…

The breeze changed directions, blowing the scent of flowers towards her, and Tilieth sighed, her tears steadily drying.

Link coughed in Impa’s hold, startling both women.

“Guess some pollen got in his nose,” Impa offered feebly with a small laugh. “Let’s get to the inn.”

Tilieth sighed, following the chief. When they entered she watched Impa gently lay Link on one of the beds.

“Kollin will be able to help with the elixirs,” Impa said reassuringly with a smile. “He’s an excellent healer, I promise. He patched me up after the Calamity.”

Tilieth nodded, sitting on the bed. Impa watched her a while longer and then wrung her hands a little nervously.

“Is there… is there anything else I can do?” Impa offered. “I’m sorry I can’t do more.”

“It’s okay,” Tilieth said, finding her voice once more. “I don’t… please don’t take Abel’s anger to heart. He…”

He what? She didn’t really know. Abel had a horrible habit of not expressing himself well, far worse than Tilieth when her emotions got the best of her. Her issue was that she couldn’t control her emotions when they overwhelmed her, while he refused to even acknowledge them.

She supposed some of this was her fault, then. She hadn’t checked in with him. But she’d…

Frustration bubbled within her. She naturally tried to take care of others, her intuition helped her break through to Abel at the start of their acquaintance and extended their relationship beyond friendship. But didn’t she deserve something in return?

Of course you do, and you’ve gotten that, she reminded herself, her chest tightening, her eyes watering once more. She couldn’t even begin to count the nights she’d spent sobbing in Abel’s arms when they’d first settled on the Great Plateau. She couldn’t recall how many times he’d told her it would be all right, that Link was safe now, that he would protect her and their son.

She hated this. She hated needing the comfort and not giving it back when she usually did. She hated that Abel was so upset and wouldn’t reach out, that she had to be the one to initiate it when she too was hurting. She hated that she’d let Abel be her stability when she hadn’t done the same for him. She hated that she had done the same and it wasn’t enough. She hated this entire situation.

She just wished things could go back to the way they were. She’d take the status quo on the Great Plateau over this.

But she couldn’t go back, and she knew that. So she had to find hope where she could. Because she couldn’t live without hope; she refused to.

Abel seemed to view her hope as some kind of weakness, as a childish thing, but her desire for it and her seeking and clinging it took more energy and strength than anything in her life.

Impa had apparently excused herself at some point, as Tilieth suddenly found the room mostly empty. The innkeeper was pointedly keeping herself busy with cleaning the other side of the building.

Tilieth sat on the bed alone.

The door to the inn opened, but she didn’t pay it much mind. Instead, she turned her attention to Link. When was the last time he’d awakened? Ah, that’s right, he’d had a few sips of water yesterday in the morning. He really hadn’t eaten much of anything at all the entire time he’d been out of the Shrine—the first time he’d woken up they’d had some broth ready, but he’d only had a sip or two—and it was beginning to worry her. She could see how his hair was dry and damaged, his lips cracked, how his skin pulled more easily than it should have. He was dehydrated and undernourished, and she couldn’t do anything about it. Link’s waking moments were so rare and unpredictable, it left her anxious just thinking about it. How would they even get elixirs in him?

“Why are you here?”

Tilieth jumped, startled, and looked up to see the warrior they’d met at the Dueling Peaks Stable. The young woman watched her with piercing eyes that held an intensity to them, reminding her strikingly of Link and Abel, though the girl’s were brown instead of the boys’ cerulean blue.

“I—Lady Impa suggested it,” Tilieth answered uncertainly.

“Why are you in Kakariko?” the warrior clarified, her tone unchanging from its monotone, interrogative manner.

“W-we…” Til glanced at Link, and fear ate at her heart all of a sudden. Kakariko Village was a refuge, but this warrior felt nearly belligerent all of a sudden. She tried to think if she’d done something offensive, or if the warrior had given some kind of sign of mal intent back at the stable, but all she’d done was show some kind of possible surprise at seeing them before abruptly leaving.

Wait. She probably recognized Link. All the Sheikah knew of the Hero, after all. They probably all knew he was supposed to be in the Shrine of Resurrection, too. Perhaps Impa hadn’t told everyone.

Did that mean she wasn’t supposed to tell everyone? They were walking around with Link in broad daylight. That seemed unlikely. She supposed this warrior hadn’t figured it out yet, then.

“The Shrine was broken,” Tilieth explained. “We came here for help.”

The warrior crossed her arms. “You won’t get much help here. Sheikah keep to themselves.”

Tilieth watched her hesitantly, curiosity bubbling in her. This young woman wore Sheikah clothes but clearly was a Hylian. It was a little confusing. Instead of letting her curiosity get the best of her, though, she asked, “Where should we go, then?”

The Sheikah warrior paused as if to consider, gaze drifting over to Link, and her eyes softened. “Nearly all of Hyrule is destroyed. But I heard that one tribe was least affected due to their location. You should go to the Gerudo Desert.”

“The Gerudo Desert?” That was so far from here!

“They have strong warriors,” the woman continued, staring at Til once more. “There are no major Hylian towns anymore. They’re all gone. Zora’s Domain is hostile, Death Mountain inaccessible, and no one has heard anything from the Rito. But I know for a fact the Gerudo were mostly unscathed. If I were looking for sanctuary for my son to heal, I’d go there.”

“You think the Sheikah wouldn’t let us stay here to rest?” Tilieth questioned carefully, not really believing such a statement but wondering why this woman seemed to think so.

“They’ll let you stay all you like,” the warrior replied. “But they won’t lift a finger for you outside of this village. If rest is all he needs, then by all means, let him stay.”

“You know the Sheikah went to the Great Plateau with him,” Tilieth informed her, a little bemused. “They helped seal him away so he could heal, they fought guardians to protect him.”

“And they died,” the warrior said coldly. “Alongside many other Sheikah.”

“Alongside everyone,” Tilieth corrected quietly, looking at the ground.

“Not everyone,” the warrior suddenly snapped, making Tilieth shoot a startled look at her. The warrior glared for a moment longer before looking away. “Not everyone. But they don’t care about that anymore. They did their search and rescue, they picked up what pieces they could, and then they just hunkered down and stopped caring about the rest of the world.”

“You… sound like you don’t like them,” Tilieth noted hesitantly.

“They’re my family,” the warrior replied with a strange dull heaviness to her tone. “That doesn’t mean I don’t disagree with their thinking. What is it you need for your son?”

“He… needs Spirit Orbs. We can collect them from the shrines. Do you… do you know where more shrines are? Like the one up on the hill? They’re the only thing that can heal him.”

“I’ve seen those shrines everywhere lately,” the warrior answered. “But they weren’t there before. Hopefully they don’t move before he can get to them.”

Well, at least Tilieth knew that wasn’t going to happen. They didn’t move, they were just unearthed by Abel and the slate.

The warrior shifted, growing less stern and asking in a softer tone, “Does… does he ever wake up?”

Tilieth smiled sadly. “Once every day or so. If we’re lucky we can make sure he drinks something. But it’s… not…”

Not enough.

The warrior slowly made her way to the other side of the bed, staring at Link. Tilieth watched her keenly, wondering where this sudden gentleness came from. The woman seemed to be a swinging pendulum, one moment harsh and the next kind. She looked so young – Tilieth wondered if this behavior was simply the product of growing up in such a world. She couldn’t have been more than twenty. Tilieth remembered her own life at that age and it was… vastly different.

“What’s your name?” Tilieth asked quietly.

The warrior didn’t acknowledge her for a moment, still watching Link, before she closed her eyes with a shuddering breath. “Sheik.”

It was certainly a curious name. Tilieth wondered if the girl herself had chosen it, as a Hylian being raised by the Sheikah tribe.

Sheik reached down slowly, hesitantly, her hand setting on Link’s shoulder. Tilieth grew a little tense but didn’t stop her.

Link’s eyes opened.

Sheik and Tilieth both jumped, caught off guard, and Sheik retracted her hand as if she’d been burned. Tilieth didn’t bother acknowledging it, instead scrambling for her bag to get some food in him. She requested hastily, “Can you get the healer, please? This might be the only chance we get to give him elixirs!”

Sheik nodded after a moment’s hesitation, rushing outside. Tilieth managed to sit Link up a little and got him to have some stew, and she was surprised at how long he stayed awake and how he actually even managed to try and chew��some of the food, though it had all been pureed for him to drink.

He… he hadn’t done that before.

“Link…?” Tilieth tried hesitantly, hopefully.

Her son stared off at nothing, and she sighed.

The door burst open, making Til nearly jump out of her skin and spilling the rest of the food on the blanket. Impa and the healer, Kollin, were there in an instant.

“He’s awake?!” Impa said breathlessly.

“It won’t last long,” Tilieth explained quickly. “Please, the elixir—”

“Right here,” Kollin cut in, offering a half-filled bottle. “I didn’t have time to make everything, but it’s something.”

Tilieth nearly yanked the bottle out of his hands, turning back just to see that Link had fallen back asleep.

She could practically feel the chill in the room as everyone’s hope and urgency shattered. She blinked rapidly against the tears that sprang up, lowering Link to the pillow and fiddling anxiously with the bottle.

Sheik approached silently, staring at Link, and then kicked the bed frame, jostling him.

“What are you—” Til almost snapped when Link startled awake once more.

He—he was awake again?

Wait, what? He never woke more than once in a day!

“The elixir, hurry!” Impa insisted, waving a hand. Sheik sat Link up, directing his head towards Tilieth. He clearly didn’t really notice the jostling, but he was still awake.

Tilieth hastily uncorked the bottle before slowing her movements so she wouldn’t make him choke on it. Link drank tiredly, clearly running out of stamina, but he got half the contents in before starting to cough and forcing her to pull away.

“You need more Spirit Orbs,” Sheik muttered.

“So that’s… that’s how he’s been?” Impa asked.

Tilieth nodded, lowering the elixir bottle to her lap.

Everyone watched Link a moment before Kollin piped up. “Why don’t you take a break? Sir Link drank some elixir, let him rest.”

Sheik glanced back at the healer before lowering Link to the pillow once more.

“Well…” Impa started uncertainly before catching Til’s attention and smiling. “I was going to work on a plum garden I wanted to plant. Maybe you can help me?”

Tilieth stared at her, dumbfounded. The thought of letting Link out of her sight when Abel wasn’t around was incomprehensible, if not ridiculous. But they were in Kakariko Village. They were safe.

Link’s safe.

“I… yes,” she said slowly, as if such a thing were novel, as if gardening hadn’t been a necessity she’d handled on the Plateau.

But it was different. She wasn’t alone. She wasn’t alone. She was helping someone else garden, she was helping create something in a village full of people. There was an entire community here. A safe community, where Link could rest without worry of danger, where Tilieth could just be with others and enjoy herself and work on a project for the sake of working on a project and not because her family would starve to death without her efforts.

A smile slowly spread across her face, and she spoke with more conviction. “Yes. I can help.”

Despite the overcast nature of the day, Tilieth couldn’t feel warmer and more comforted as she went outside and dug her hands through the soil. They were nearly finished with the garden when a Sheikah rushed over to say someone was in labor, and Kollin and Impa had gone to assist. Tilieth completed the project, wiping the dirt from her hands, and decided to wander the village a bit, basking in its simple beauty, relishing the fact that, for the first time in a decade, she felt like she was a part of a community once more.

Some exploring yielded excitement that not only brought her joy but also grounded her back in her current situation. A korok was hiding amidst a few little statues, gifting her a seed and an armful of apples. A woman was seeking to rebuild her clothing boutique – though there were no visitors to Kakariko, she still wished to make clothes for others, and she assisted Tilieth in working with a half-finished garment to make a tunic for Link. It was colorful and beautiful, resembling a traveler’s attire from Hateno. Tilieth’s heart ached at the sight of it, but she was also satisfied with it. At least now Link had clothes that would fit him properly, and perhaps even keep him a little warmer. The leather belts and pauldron would also lend some protection.

The village was getting together to celebrate the birth of a baby girl by the evening, and Tilieth went to check on Link, when she heard the sound of a horse galloping and neighing.

Tilieth stiffened, knowing who it had to be. She had managed to get to the inn before Abel’s return, so it might buy some time as he looked for her. She wasn’t entirely sure she really needed it. She’d calmed significantly since his outburst. But…

She still didn’t want to deal with this. Not now. She was having a good day. Link was having a good day. And…

The door slid open. Feet shuffled inside.

The room was uncomfortably quiet. The innkeeper shifted awkwardly before exiting the building entirely, joining the festivities elsewhere.

“I’m sorry,” Abel started softly, simply. “I… what I said was… I know you care about Link. I know you love him more than anything. I’m sorry.”

The wound in Tilieth’s heart wanted her to push back, to argue, but it was a small wound, steadily shrinking in size.

This wasn’t the first time this had happened, though it had been a good while. Abel would be fine, fine, fine until he suddenly wasn’t. There were ques, but Til had missed them, as she herself had been dealing with everything too. She remembered, years ago, before the Calamity, when Abel had apologized for an outburst, and she’d actually been able to ask him why he acted in such a manner.

I… it’s my responsibility to take care of you, of our children, of the royal family. I suppose sometimes… I’m not as strong as I need to be. And it bothers me.

There was more to it than that, she was sure, and despite how much she had tried to reassure him… well. The Calamity had happened.

Tilieth sighed.

“It’s okay,” she said quietly.

“No. It isn’t.” Abel argued.

Tilieth felt her chest tighten. Why did her husband always have to be so aggressive anyway? She was trying to let the subject go.

Abel walked towards her, and she sighed tiredly, wondering if he would turn this into another fight. He hesitated a moment before sitting on the bed with her, hand moving to her face and directing her chin to look at him.

“You’re doing everything you can to help Link. You’ve gone through more than anyone should have to and you’re… you’re still trying to find the good in the situation, still trying to be optimistic. It certainly does more good than… you’re strong and wonderful, Til. I’m sorry.”

Til’s throat tightened up once more, and she couldn’t push words out, so instead she leaned in to her husband, who held her gently. She promised to tell him how wonderful he was later, when she was able. But for now, she let herself relax in the safe embrace, crying and holding him in return.

The moment was interrupted when Abel stiffened abruptly. “Til—Til get the food, Link’s awake—”

Tilieth’s eyes opened quickly, and she stared at their son. Link was indeed awake again, though not focusing on anything in particular. She swallowed hard, heart racing, and choked out, “Honey, he—he ate earlier, and drank some elixir, he’s—he’s waking up more—”

“He what?” Abel gasped, releasing her and reaching towards Link. “Link? Link, can you hear me?”

“I… I don’t know if he can,” Til explained uncertainly. “But he is more arousable. Sheik woke him up too.”

“Sheik?” Abel repeated, glancing at her. “The warrior from before?”

Til stared at him. “Wait, you—you spoke with her too?”

“Back at the stable,” Abel answered dismissively. “She… well, she saved me from an archer.”

Til stood, adrenaline spiking. “So you did get into a fight! I knew you were hurt! Abel, why didn’t you tell me?”

Abel turned to her sharply but caught himself and sighed instead. “I didn’t want to slow us down.”

Til grabbed the remainder of the elixir she’d tried to give to Link and held it out to her husband. He wordlessly took it and drank. The relief on his face was instantly apparent, and he relaxed his posture, seeming to sink more into the bed. Then he shifted his focus back to Link, but the boy was asleep once more.

“He’s been doing that,” Tilieth noted. “That’s the third time he’s woken up today.”

“The third time?” Abel repeated, surprised.

Tilieth smiled, running a hand over her husband’s head, gently untangling knots in his hair. “Yes. He’s getting better, Abel. It… it will be all right.”

Abel leaned in to the touch, resting his hands on her hips and pulling her back to him. Til sat beside him, letting him bury his head in her shoulder as she held him. Then excitement bubbled within her, triggered by Link’s awakening and the end of the tension between the couple.

Til pulled away gently but steadily, catching Abel’s attention, and she smiled at him cheerfully. “I made Link clothes. I haven’t had time to cook much, but I can make some dinner for us for the journey, and—the village is celebrating the birth of a baby, so we should enjoy that too!”

Abel watched her a moment, blinking and registering what she’d said, and he chuckled breathily. “Well, I mapped out more on the slate, and marked a few shrines. And… I found another horse. Or, well, she found me.”

“Another—you—the map—you went to a tower?”

“Yes, but—but come look, Til,” Abel insisted, rising and taking her by the hand.

The pair went outside, though they stopped at the entrance to the inn as Abel didn’t want to leave Link unattended for long. He whistled briefly, and Til saw Ama trot over, alongside—

“Epona!” she gasped. “That’s Epona!”

Epona nickered, ears perked forward, and she covered the extra distance to the couple while Ama huffed a small distance from the inn. Link’s horse paused at the stairs to the inn and cautiously put a hoof on a wooden step, eager to reach the pair. Tilieth laughed, clear and light and echoing in the air, and she ran down to meet the steed, hugging her neck. Epona swished her tail, turning her head a little so it nuzzled the back of Til’s, and she felt her heart soar.

“How did you find her?” she asked, not letting go.

“I didn’t,” Abel answered from the inn’s doorway. “I told you, she found me.”

“Oh, honey,” Til cooed into the mare’s mane. “You survived.” Then she burst away, even more energized, and looked at Abel in delight. “Hon, this is—we should celebrate! I can’t believe—this is so wonderful!”

Abel’s smile was warm and, dare she say it, hopeful, and he nodded. There was no way she wasn’t dragging him to the village’s festivities now. The discussion with Sheik, plans for their trip, talk of Gerudo Town, even cooking provisions could wait until later. She just wanted to bask in this joy now, her first feeling of freedom and joy, her hope strengthened and revitalized and rewarded.

They were going to be alright.

[catzgam3rz]

I think I'm good to post these now soooo

Have some character sketches I did last night to get a hold of the cats that will be appearing in my Serpent and the Stars map part :D!

[cinnamon-grump]

If y’all know me, you know I hate asking for help…. So I’m very sorry to have to now.

I start a new (part time) job next tuesday.. but I gotta get gas to make it there before I’ll get paid. If you can help, anything at all would be so much appreciated!

Paypal

Venmo

Cashapp

It’s totally cool if you can’t/don’t want to.. sharing is of course helpful too

I can do some quick sketches / phone doodles in return, just message me and lmk if you want! I’m open to drawing most things (within reason..) here’s some recent examples, and my art tag

[tricoufamily]

that edit did not pan out how i hoped whatsoever

[yamujiburo]

HANAMUSA (JESSIExDELIA) MASTER POST

I probably should have started doing this forever ago but I wasn’t sure how long I was gonna stick with drawing these comics. But I guess we’re in it now! This will be continually updated~ EVERYTHING UNDER THE CUT

BEFORE YOU START:

This post is required reading about Team Rocket’s ages since that’s usually a question that comes up a lot LOL. As for Delia’s age, she is said to be 29 in Takeshi Shudo’s (original writer on Pokémon) novel that built out the world and characters of the anime.

Next, I feel like this chart helps give the vibe of what these characters relationship is (all just headcanons except for their names and ages)!

WHERE TO START:

Here’s a post I made detailing how Jessie, James and Meowth initially start living with Delia. It also goes into what each character does in this AU. Before going into the post, you might enjoy this fanfic my girlfriend commissioned! It’s based off of said post and is a more enjoyable read.

Here’s also a list of headcanons!

COMICS:

Here’s all the comics I’ve done! The order of most of them are pretty ambiguous and up in the air but I put them in the order I kinda see in my head! There are some that do take place before Jessie and Delia start dating though! Also a few comics that have several parts but the “next” and “prev” links will be in each comic. So I’ll only link the first part of those ones in this masterpost.

Pre-Relationship

Fast Food

Ophidiophobia

Boss 🌟NEW🌟

Whipped

Making Eyes

Hairbrush

Inquiries

Separated

First Kiss

Dating

Big Bed

Tattoo

Crumbs

Pet Clown

I’d Like To

Jessica

Lipstick (not a comic but some fun extra dialogue for this)

Glow

Sleeptalking

Official

Early Relationship

Stare Down

Shovel Talk

Invisible Walls

Date Help

Date Night

Face Blind

One Motto Away

Babygirl

Snowgasboard

Delia’s Got a Cold

Mr. Jessie Ketchum

Peek-At-Chu

Hands Off Pikachu!

Wine Nights with James

Beauty and the Beach

Turning Point Arc

Sunscreen

Where Do Babies Come From

Head Scritches

Love Life

Ugly

Ace Trainers

Pikasitting

During Relationship

Mother’s Day

Father’s Day

Gift for Delia

Gift for Jessie

Jessilina Fan

Crossdressing

Type

Hickeys

Journey Arc

Tone

Cooking Twerp

Son

Cooking Advice

Serperior Facts

Cassidy’s Cabin Arc

Father/Son Bonding

Worry 🌟NEW🌟

Later in Relationship

Uniform

Paparazzi

One Upping 🌟NEW🌟

Hand-Me-Downs

Glasses

Study Help

Happy Valentine’s Day

Wrapped

Daddy Daughter Double Battle

Splinter

Married Life

Wedding

Arbok/Weezing Reunion

Snake Eyes

FAQ:

There's a hanamusa section in my FAQ!

[captainreecejames]

Miss Movin On || My Ex is a Footballer CL16 Edition

links [masterlist] [my ex series masterlist] [series update with more footballers]

summary your ex is engaged and you haven't moved on, or have you?

pairings ex!federico chiesa x reader, charles leclerc x reader faceclaim benedetta porcaroli

warnings cursing, mentions of austria 24

notes lol this is kinda short but my head has been hurting for the past few days so I haven't been able to do much. Fernando Alonso's my ex is the next one I'm working on.

yn's instagram messages -----

yn's messages -----

twitter ------

ynusername posted a story -------

ynusername posted ---------

liked by carmenmmundt, arthurleclerc and others

ynusername me and the bestie tagged opheliamillaiss

load more comments

opheliamillaiss ti amo ynnie! i love you ynnie ↳ ynusername sei bellessima you are beautiful

username1 i HAVE seen two pretty best friends

username7 she's trying to distract us from her story ↳ username8 yn, babe, who was the man??

username2 why is arthur leclerc lurking in the likes? ↳ username3 was it him in the story? ↳ username2 no i don't think so ↳ username3 your're right, looked more like charles

username4 girl it's time to move on ↳ username5 she posts about her friend and you guys are mentioning chiesa! can't make anyone happy here

username6 thoughts on the euros? ↳ ynusername :(((

yn's whatsapp messages -------

"unofficial official drivers group chat"

charlie now accepting caption ideas for my post about yn

ynnie charles no

max emilian charles yes

ynnie max no

danny ric max yes

landotd max no

ynnie lol not the norstappen breakup drama

landotd you made this my name didn't you

ynnie well... yes you did say it was better than the actual trophy 🤷‍♀️

landotd you make me want to say max yes

ynnie lmao telling the f1 girlies that I'm the reason yall are getting back together

charlie and none of you are helping me with the caption

frenchie pie shhh cha, we're watching the girls fighting messaged haha'd by 11

princess george "imagine getting knocked out of the euros and losing yn, couldn't be me"

albono aww, george that's a good one

carmen 🩵 that's because it's my idea

lily 🏌️🏻‍♀️💙 I knew it babe

aussie son fumbled the bag and the girl or winning isn't for everyone, but it is for me 👎🏻 by ynnie

lily 🧡 how about monagasque men do it better 👎🏻 by ynnie

carmen 🩵 damn lils!

frenchie pie "you broke her heart, I breaka da spaghetti" 👎🏻 by ynnie

logie bear "formula 1 > soccer"

lewlew make that football and you got a good one

kmags why are we coming up with captions?

hulk 💚 because yn's ex man is messaging her being a dick and so charles has decided to hard launch

kmags ohhh wait, how do you know this nico?

hulk 💚 I stay in the know 💪🏼

ynnie gotta keep my grid dad up to date

nando why the fuck is he your grid dad??

lewlew yeah wtf?

ynnie uhm, cause my grid dad can't be my boyfriends grid dad or my son's dad's boyfriend???

charlie still getting off topic

frenchie pie don't worry chiesa, she's moved on to someone better

kika!! 💘 pierre, he is not saying that!

ynnie thank you!! someone actually on my side

kika!! 💘 say 'don't worry, she's moved on'

ynnie how about none of those

charlie i don't see you coming up with anything, mon cherie

ynnie meet my love, yn?? my beautiful girlfriend, yn?? something normal please

charles_leclerc posted ------

liked by ynusername, scuderiaferrari and others

charles_leclerc don't worry bud, she's moved on

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username11 calling chiesa bud is insane

username12 two different tifosi coming together to NOT maximize their joint slay ↳ username11 charles really declaring war on juve fans ↳ username12 who will win? ferrari or juve?

ynusername sha, this is not what we agreed on. ↳ charles_leclerc but this is funnier, no? ↳ ynusername I blame pierregasly for this ↳ pierregasly that's okay, MY bestie is iconic ↳ francisca.cgomes are you calling me not iconic ↳ ynusername hahaha, let's all laugh at pierre now ♥️ by estebanocon ↳ username13 not estie bestie liking that comment

username14 THE HAND ON HER THROAT IN THE SECOND PICTURE??? YN HOW DID YOU SURVIVE? ↳ username15 BITCH WHO CARES ABOUT THAT HAND!! LOOK AT THE FIRST PICTURE! ↳ username14 charles marking his spot like a dog

lewishamilton look at you two! ↳ ynusername hi future teammate!

logansargeant i liked my suggestion :( ↳ charles_leclerc me too ↳ oscarpiastri personally my options were better ↳ username16 now I want to know what you all suggested ↳ logansargeant formula 1 > soccer

username17 someone should edit that picture of jorginho getting the spaghetti dumped on him to chiesa, but it's actually formula 1 cars ↳ username18 winning isn't for everyone, but it is for Charles ↳ oscarpiastri that's what I said! ↳ username18 omg twins!

username19 chiesa really fumbled the bag ↳ oscarpiastri I said that one too! ↳ username19 oscar just twinning with everyone!

[depressedrevolutionariesinlove]

“I think, if I’m made to reflect his light, with him looking at me like this, we could burn the world to ashes.”

Lore

It’s certainly been a while, and I feel compelled to let you know some of the backstory/context behind why I’m here:

So, I was born in a country where being any form of gay is illegal; we’re talking indefinite imprisonment, torture, etc. This is is the main reason why I was drawn to historical Laurens and Hamilton—they could relate. (Add to that them having to think about the logistics of revolution and government, which I also did for separate reasons lol.) They were honestly good motivation and made me push myself more than I thought I could. My old education system was terrible and clearly meant to NOT make people equipped to live in a democratic or tolerant society. I looked beyond it, and a lot of what I learned was just to understand what the hell those gayasses were referencing, and hey, it worked.

Over the past year, I worked on getting out. Applying to schools, making a portfolio, and not working myself to death.

I’m now writing from my U.S. college campus. I’m officially out of there. I have a tiny pride flag on my desk that I can’t legally get killed for. Whenever the lack of family/connections gets to me, I look at it and remember that it was absolutely worth it. It’s great to be here. It’s being able to breathe.

Now that I’m settled, I’ll be making stuff for here as I have the time, most likely during breaks. I would literally not have human rights if it weren’t for this, so it’ll continue to be important to me.

So yeah! special thanks to tumblr users @john-laurens and @ciceroprofacto for really getting me into the interesting stuff (read SOA, linked above). Thanks to everyone reading this—I do read most asks even if I haven’t been great at responding so far. And lastly, thank you to James Flint from Black Sails (and the concept of gay rage.)

[lucysarah-c]

Mounting Spring Ch. 1.

Summary: Paradis has opened its doors to the world, and the Rumbling has not yet occurred. The military board insists, "We need more Ackermans!" to avoid ruining Mikasa's life. Levi agrees. Arranged marriage, explicit consent, Omegaverse. Alpha! Levi x Omega! Y/N. Mentions of underage marriage but it doesn't happen, the reader is over 21. Age gap but they are both adults. (I would say enemys to lover but they don't even know eachother to be enemys lol.) Author note: I've had this idea for so long… Omegaverse is my guilty pleasure, and I decided to treat myself with it. From the creator of "Not in season?" I bring to you "Mounting Spring" lmao haha sorry it's just that my first omegaverse was rather a success… so I decided to do another.

MASTERLIST TO ALL THE OTHER PARTS.

Link to AO3 in case you prefer to read it there.

The papers were passed around the Military board members, each set handed off in tense silence. The room’s air had cooled quickly as the sun dipped below the horizon, making Levi’s coat, almost too heavy to bear earlier, feel suddenly necessary. The chill seeped through the old walls, hinting that a bit of heating might soon be in order. 

With methodical precision, Levi slammed the stack of reports against the wooden table to align them perfectly, every edge sharp and in place. He moved aside the sticky notes he’d scribbled on hours before, crossing off the last item on his to-do list with finality. Job done for the day— 

“Well, that’s it,” he muttered, eager to leave the stale room behind. 

A pointed clearing of someone’s throat halted him, making him glance up slowly. Levi’s senses flared; he wasn’t done after all. The tension thickened, and the air shifted to something more ominous. His gaze travelled around the table, landing on each board member’s face. Some looked uncomfortable, others entertained, as if they’d been anticipating this moment. Hange, seated beside him despite their role as Commander now, avoided his eye, their head lowered in apparent resignation. Recent meetings had seen the appearance of new, vaguely unsettling faces, like Kiyomi's, who now looked across the table with a subtle smile. 

“Captain,” Zackly’s voice rasped as he cleared his throat yet again. 

“The day’s agenda is finished,” Levi stated, irritation biting at his words. The official telegram had detailed the topics to be discussed, all of which they’d already addressed. Anything beyond that, he knew, was meant to be cleared with the entire board beforehand. 

“This was a last-minute matter,” a Military Police officer interjected, though the smirk twitching at his lips betrayed more amusement than urgency. 

“Captain,” Zackly called again, knitting his fingers together. “You know we’ve always valued your dedication to Paradis.” 

The pause was rehearsed, the words strangely formal, making Levi’s eyes narrow. “What the hell is going on?” cutting through the man’s attempt at civility. 

“Let the Commander finish,” Kiyomi insisted, her voice smooth and elegant, though tinged with a superiority that grated on him. 

“We wouldn’t have managed to retake Wall Maria without your bravery—” 

“A lot of people sacrificed themselves for that,” Levi replied sharply, cutting off the praise that felt, at best, patronizing. “Including the previous Commander, Erwin. No need to thank me.” 

“Nevertheless,” Zackly forged on, tiring of the interruptions, “without your skill, all those sacrifices might have been in vain. Not only did you dare to fight for Eren’s retrieval from the Female Titan and against the former tyrannical regime, but—” 

“It wasn’t just me. My squad and the brat over there were in it too.” 

The tone of the conversation was growing increasingly uneasy, the excessive praise no longer just annoying him but setting off alarms. 

“Quite right. You and Mikasa were essential in humanity’s progress,” Kiyomi added, eyeing Levi with a calculating gaze. As her look shifted back to Zackly, Levi’s own attention followed. 

“What we mean to say is… even if Paradis positions itself favourably in the new world, more capable individuals like you and Mikasa would be ideal assets for our success.” Zackly straightened in his chair, clearing his throat for the third time, making Levi wonder if the man needed water—or to finally give up smoking like a chimney. “Have you ever considered marriage, Captain?” 

The question hit him like a bucket of ice water. It was so absurd Levi could only scoff. “What?” 

“How old are you now?” Zackly continued, feigning casual curiosity. “Thirty-three? Thirty-four? A prime age, I’m sure. And for a high-breed alpha like you—” 

Behind him, low chuckles began to echo from the MPs, each one making Levi’s grip on the chair’s arm tighten. 

‘This is a trap.’ 

“Whatever it is you’re implying, I I suggest you rethink it,” Levi spat, the weight of their words starting to settle. 

“Let’s be frank,” Kiyomi leaned forward, hands placed firmly on the table. “Captain, we once thought the Ackermans extinct, only to discover Paradis has not one but two. Even Zeke couldn’t deny that meeting you at Shiganshina was... less than pleasant.” 

“Of course,” Levi replied dryly. “I beat that monkey’s ass.” 

“Exactly.” The dark-haired woman showed no amusement, her voice all business. “To the point, then: we intend to provide you with a suitable wife to ensure that you bless this island with as many Ackermans as she’s capable of bearing.” 

Levi shot to his feet. “You must be out of your damned mind if you think I’d agree to this. I’m not here to be used as a breeding tool.” 

“Oh, but you wouldn’t be the one doing the birthing,” an MP remarked with a smirk as the rest of the board broke their facades, amusement flashing in their eyes. All but Hange, who looked as if they might vanish into their seat. 

“You’re insane,” Levi snarled, preparing to leave, feeling insulted to his core. “You can use Historia as your political pawn as much as you want, but I’m not some 17-year-old girl at your disposal—” 

“Think of it as a service to your country,” Zackly replied coolly. 

“I serve this island every damned day,” Levi snapped, baring his teeth. With a sharp slap, he pressed his papers against the table and strode toward the door, signaling his utter rejection of the idea. 

“If you won’t consider it…” Kiyomi's calm, piercing voice halted him at the door, the threat clear. “Then we’ll turn to the only other Ackerman left.” 

Levi stilled, staring at the golden knob in his hand, fury boiling in his veins. He wasn’t about to fall for this. 

“Mikasa is too valuable to be reduced to a broodmare.” 

“She’s a girl of duty,” Kiyomi replied, a note of satisfaction in her voice. “Something you seem to lack. And she’s an alpha. I’m certain she could bear at least one healthy child before returning to the battlefield.” 

Levi clicked his tongue, pushing open the door with disdain. ‘Who the hell do they think I am?’ Hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat, he stormed down the royal city’s military headquarters hallways, curses slipping from his lips. The whole idea was absurd; they’d lost their minds if they thought he’d even consider it. 

As Levi stormed down the dim corridor, every step sharp and swift, he couldn’t shake the rancor rising within him. The brazenness of it all, to drag him into their twisted ambitions with such flippant disregard for his will—and then to threaten Mikasa. The audacity alone made his fists clench. 

He barely noticed Hange keeping pace with him until their arm was outstretched, catching him by the shoulder. 

“Levi,” Hange began softly. Their usual spark was subdued, gaze serious, and voice almost apologetic. “I know you’re furious. I knew this would be hell to hear, but I didn’t know how else to—” 

“Save it.” Levi shrugged their hand off, glowering. “You knew, didn’t you? That they were going to bring this shit up?” 

Hange hissed, as if asking them to confessed was almost painful. “Yes… I knew.” 

Levi gritted his teeth, eyes dark with betrayal. “You agreed to this?” Both of them whispering on the empty cold halls of the building.  

“I… didn’t agree,” Hange answered carefully. “But I was there when the discussion happened. Look, Zackly and the others—” Hange hesitated, running a hand through their hair. “They’re dead set on this idea. They think they’re planning for a stronger Paradis, and if they think that means Ackerman bloodlines—” 

“Save the speech.” Levi’s tone was sharp. “They can be dead set on whatever they please, but I'd like to see them drag the entire MP battalion if they want to force me into this.” 

The past year had hardly been easy on either of them, especially Hange with their new title as Commander. Levi was well aware of this—yet the sense of betrayal cut deep. “For fuck’s sake, Hange, you could’ve warned me.” 

A tense silence hung between them, until Hange finally sighed and adjusted their glasses, pressing on the bridge of their nose. “You think I had a say in this? Kiyomi's paying for the entire coastal expansion and the railway. She thought it was a decent idea, and with her money backing it, she’s got the final word on everything.” 

Levi clicked his tongue, crossing his arms in exasperation. “Those bastards in the upper ranks are just itching to get on my last nerve since we changed the policies.” 

“Look, I know it sounds—insane. But maybe… if we don’t try to protect the future of the island, there won’t be one. And if there’s a way to keep the Ackerman bloodline alive, maybe there’s value in that…” 

“Don’t give me that bloodline nonsense.” Levi’s tone was ice-cold, his gaze sharp. “This is some harebrained scheme they’ve cooked up. And let me guess: it reeks of Zeke. That bearded bastard’s across the ocean, and he’s still screwing with my life.” 

Hange pressed their lips together, saying nothing. The silence was confirmation enough. 

“That son of a bitch,” Levi cursed under his breath. “He’s the one with royal blood, not me.” 

Hange’s lips twitched in something close to sympathy. 

“Well, since you two are such good friends these days, feel free to let him know he can kiss my ass.” 

“Levi…” Hange sighed, not because they disagreed but because Levi’s sense of betrayal cut both ways. They were the last two left of the original veterans—family in all but name. It wasn’t just an argument; it felt like a wound between them. 

Convincing Levi? Impossible. But convincing her? That possibility hung in the air, lingering like a storm on the horizon. Levi paced with conviction at first, then with dread. They both knew it, and, worse, Zeke likely knew it too. Mikasa had just turned seventeen, still almost a child, recently visited by someone claiming kinship with her clan. Levi couldn’t care less about all the ancestral politics, but he was all too aware of how they worked. 

“You can choose whoever you wish for the father,” they had told her, as if it was some generous offer. And, step by step, he watched Mikasa’s face transform from disgust to something akin to acceptance. Perhaps it was because she, too, held a certain pedigree; perhaps she felt duty-bound. He didn’t know, and he didn’t care what methods they used to sway her. 

‘She’s smarter than that,’ he tried to tell himself. 

But then he overheard Historia, almost childishly enthusiastic, whispering to Mikasa, “See? I told you—we’re girls with responsibilities.” The blood drained from his face. If they’d managed to convince Historia, to make her some kind of pawn in their twisted ambitions, what was stopping them from pulling Mikasa down the same path? 

‘It’s disgusting,’ he thought bitterly. ‘Maybe this is how those classist bastards operate. They talk little girls into this like they’re just trading dolls for something more ‘exciting.’’ 

That night, back in his office, Levi was a restless storm, pacing the room with his suit jacket hanging loose, fingers curled around his glass of whiskey, his movements sharp and frustrated. The glow of his cigarette flared in the dark room as he took a deep drag, gritting his teeth. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” 

Slouched in his chair, forearm draped over his eyes, his mind circled back to Mikasa’s hesitant, almost innocent blush—her teenage imagination painting a faint, rosy tint over whatever twisted future she thought she might face. And in his mind, as if staring him down, were Eren’s haunted eyes, that deadened look of someone who already knew more than he could say. Maybe the brat already knew Levi wouldn’t let it happen. 

“She’s a damn kid,” he muttered. The thought of Mikasa shouldering this burden felt like a betrayal of his own values. 

Though technically, she was not much younger than many girls who’d borne children before. But this felt different, disturbing— He let out a humourless chuckle, as a man that waits for getting hang. “Those bastards knew… I wouldn’t let them ruin her life like that.” 

And like a cursed prophecy that tightened its grip the more one tried to escape it, Levi found himself back in that same damned office, slouched in his chair as if seated at a poker table. Bargaining his future. 

Levi sat stiffly across from the military board, his expression a blend of frustration and disgust as they spoke. Zackly lounged in his chair, lazily smoking as the other officials presented folders adorned with detailed painted portraits, lists of family properties, and who knows what else. As they laid the offers on the table, a random thought clouded Levi’s mind: It feels like searching for a button that matches at the notions store. 

He was reminded of long strips of fabric with various buttons sewn onto them, each one a potential fit. “Many of the noble families are eager to show their loyalty to the new government,” one officer stated with a practiced calmness. “Some have offered up alliances in exchange for the return of their territories and titles. This includes a number of unclaimed young omegas. You’ll have ample choices.” 

Levi’s jaw clenched. He knew they expected him to appear grateful for the options lined up before him, as if he were selecting a new weapon. Instead, he leaned back, crossing his arms tightly. “I’ll be imposing some conditions.” 

They paused, exchanging glances. “Naturally, Captain,” one of the men replied, steepling his fingers. 

“No fancy bullshit,” Levi declared. “The wedding will be plain. Just a civil ceremony. I have no intention of making a spectacle out of this.” 

The room fell silent, the officers exchanging looks that spoke volumes. One of them cleared his throat, hesitating before responding. “Captain, you should consider—” 

“I’m not considering anything,” Levi interrupted, his tone sharper than before. “This is a plain arrangement, and it will remain exactly that. I don’t need fanfare or ceremonies—just a quiet signing of papers.” 

The officers shifted uncomfortably, their discomfort palpable as they struggled to reconcile Levi’s cold practicality with their expectations. “Think of the girl. Many young omegas dream of their wedding day, waiting for it their whole lives. It’s—” a female alpha soldier attempted to be the voice of reason, but Levi was clearly listening to none of it. 

“No buts,” Levi said, his patience wearing thin. “If I’m going to go through with this ridiculous arrangement, it will be on my terms. I’m not dragging this girl through some overblown ceremony when neither of us wants to be there.” 

With a loud sigh, Levi lifted himself slightly from his seat to grab the portfolios. He barely looked at them, frowning deeply. “Don’t you have pictures where they look— I don’t know—human?” he spat out sarcastically, noting how overly produced their painted portraits appeared. 

“That’s what’s in fashion,” one officer muttered defensively. 

Groaning in disinterest, Levi rolled his eyes. “Nobles and their weird tastes.” But as he turned the next page to examine the descriptions, it was as if the world had tilted off its axis. “Sixteen,” he muttered, irritation creeping into his voice. He looked up, venom lacing his words. “You’re offering me sixteen-year-old girls? Girls who could be my damn daughters?” 

“It’s common, you know—” 

“I don’t care what’s common. Twenty-five,” Levi interjected. “At least twenty-five. I’m not getting tied to a child.” 

“Come on,” an exhausted soldier exclaimed, “some are seventeen, eighteen—” 

“Twenty-five,” Levi snapped, his eyes blazing. “I’m not interested in any of this unless you bring me someone who isn’t still in their childhood.” 

“Be realistic,” Zackly finally spoke up, looking weary and disinterested. “How many omegas do you know that aren’t claimed by twenty-five?” 

“Fuck if I know; that’s your job to find out, not mine.” Levi’s anger flared, echoing in the sterile room. “Weren’t you the one telling me to think of the girl? Don’t you think of her?” 

“Why? Are you planning on hurting her?” Zackly questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

“Fuck no.” 

“Then I’m not concerned. Choose one and stop being a pain in the ass.” 

It was clear they were not going to reach any middle ground like this. Amid the hastily scribbled notes, he noticed a name: Y/N, age twenty-one. He pointed decisively at the line, cutting through the cacophony of voices. “That one.” 

There was no picture, no description—nothing. Perhaps it should have raised suspicions, but Levi was too tired for this cheap drama. 

“Why her?” one member scoffed, glancing at the paper. “We have better offers on the table.” 

Levi didn’t hesitate. “She’s the oldest.” He placed both hands on the table, pushing himself upward. He had made up his mind the night before; he just needed this to be over. Striding toward the door, he exited without allowing anyone to stop him. As he walked out of the conference room, he could hear the murmurs behind him. 

As the door shut firmly, one of the cadets held the papers against his chest, confusion written all over his face. Slowly, he turned to the higher-ranking officer. “Shouldn’t we tell him that she’s scheduled to marry this weekend to her childhood fiancé?” 

Zackly chuckled, flicking the ashes from his cigarette into the ashtray. Between coughs, he said, “Oh well, he can find out from her once they’re both married. It’s no longer my problem.” 

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[papyrusgayfont]

ok yesterday on Twitter I saw someone talk about how there was an official 3D models for Franziska in an Ace Attorney slot machine game, so I looked it up cuz I wanted to know more about it and then I see a video of someone playing it and there’s??? A 3D model??? Of Gumshoe?!??!?

So far I’ve only found 3 (unique) moments where’s it’s used but hopefully there’s more 🙏���

and then I got more curious and started watching some videos of this person playing the slot machine game, and then I realized that are a lot of characters that never appeared after the original trilogy, who have their own 3D models in this thing, like there’s a 3D model of Godot, and one of Dee Vasquez, and of Luke Atmey, and of Furio Tigre, and Mini Mimey, and the Steel Samurai/Evil Magistrate, and Von Karma, and maybe there’s more, idk, but I haven’t seen any other than these (aside from the main characters, obviously)

there are also models of younger Ema, younger Pearl, Larry before the timeskip, and Mia using Maya’s body

they also recreated some of the locations, and various segments with 2D animation (I can’t tell if it’s done by the same studio that did the anime adaptation, but if it isn’t, then I’m guessing they were given the character references and designs since they look extremely similar)

they also did a segment for Rise from the Ashes in the anime style, when they didn’t adapt that case in the actual anime

now, I think my biggest question after looking at all of this is: what the fuck was the budget for this????

like having to make all these 3D models and sets, a lot of whom barely appear, recreating the soundtrack and animating so many scenes, for a slot machine??? Really???

I know this probably wasn’t Capcom themselves making all these models and animation, they more than likely sourced that out to other studios

I’m just amazed that there was so much so find here, and there might be more, idk, I haven’t watched every video about this thing

(EDIT: I forgot to link the tweet I mentioned, this is it lol https://twitter.com/burgerlesbian/status/1848748265883525195?s=46&t=EHwZpbm57nOa-MPTM7kktw)

[kalims]

kiss your best friend | diasomnia

kiss your best friend and see how they react!

parts. one , two , three , four , five , six , seven

characters. malleus, lilia, sebek, silver

content. gender neutral reader as usual, mentions of murder by lilia's cooking, someone faints lol

note. finally last part after ten years /j

malleus

goes absolutely silent but his surprise is definitely there -> eyes widen, brows raise on a miniscule scale. you'd think the guy would be all lowkey about his joy but five seconds later and there are comical sparkles surrounding his face.

I mean. you had to formally confirm that you two were friends before, and you had off-handedly linked his name and best friend in the same sentence a few months later (he was bursting for like a week.) and now all that?

thrown away, nu-uh. you two are NOT friends no more, he doesn’t have a single care in the world. he's throwing the friends label off a cliff with his foot and skipping off with joy cause you just got upgraded to the next ruler of briar valley wink wonk.

or perhaps you'd like being referred to as his consort? he can always make the people refer to you as both.

if you're wondering why he's so silent all of a sudden; malleus: already thinking of how he'd decorate the castle when you move in with him. maybe... he can break down the wall to link your two bedrooms together—wait no he'd very much like to share the same room instead..

"child of man, do you prefer violet or green?"

"uh... green...?"

"excellent choice, you have my gratitude."

the thing you should be asking is 'why' because it's either the main color theme of your wedding or the gem he'd engrave on your ring (he's very happy it's green though, since it'd be a constant reminder of him.. oh he knows! he should get his a color of your eyes too—)

someone stop him.

lilia

spiderman kisses spiderman kisses spiderman kisses spiderman kisses

more knowledgeable than malleus about the level up of relationships so he doesn't jump from best friends to newlyweds immediately. actually he doesn't even need a label, if you're going around kissing him he's just gonna act like you two are a married couple without a confirmation on your status'

"darling, could you hand me the sugar?"

"lilia, I hope you know that you're supposed to use salt for the sauce not sugar." <- *passes the right bottle*

ignoring lilia's attempts on lives he acts pretty normal.

ahem, besides the fact that your first kiss on him has made him come to the conclusion that he can now incorporate kisses in your daily routine since you've already done it, so apparently that means he can too.

kiss him once, he kisses you thrice I guess. it's either the occasional jumpscare from the ceiling since he felt like reminding you of his love through a pack or the times you blink and feel a sensation against your lips without seeing anything cause his affection can be silent as it is loud you suppose.

pov student you were speaking to who definitely saw that but you didn't midst your blink: 😨—

"lilia are we dating."

"i suppose it would make us more official like you humans like, so of course~"

he just accepts it without any complaints, just announce you're spouses and he'll accept that too probably.

#chill

silver

if we have spiderman kisses surely we can have the sleeping beauty kiss?

sleeping beauty kisses sleeping beauty kisses sleeping beauty kisses sleeping beauty kisses

I reckon he would be a pretty light sleeper though the quantity of his sleep is more often than not so even though he accidentally passes out a lot he's really easy to wake. trained to be vigilant and all, courtesy of his murderous father (well, murderous through food?)

he knows the weight of certain things. a blanket draped over him, the feeling of something squirming on his shoulder—a squirrel, most likely. something on his head, a bird or some other critter. but this?

a light press on his lips, gone as quickly as it came. that, he isn't sure of. the animals don't tend to linger around his face so the unknown origin of it has curiosity opening his eyes.

and boy, he is trying to find every reason to not believe that you didn't peck him.

perhaps they touched it? he furrows his brows lightly, attempting hard at trying to avoid your gaze because he feels guilty at his first assumption, you're his best friend! you wouldn't do such a thing..

"did you touch my lips?"

"nah, is it fine that I kissed you?"

"..."

"..."

*passes out*

is he dreaming?

sebek

in what scenario will sebek even let you near him? hmmm.. I suppose being 'best friends' (he calls you self proclaimed, and that you guys aren't that close but still rages over someone and hits them with an essay why you're so much better than their insults) makes you more tolerable around to be closer.

totally not the fact that he might have a crush on you, which can't be right cause he can't be capable of having feelings for a *gasp* human!

scandalous. he knows.

raises a brow when you do anything but be discrete with your intentions of shuffling closer but he doesn't really double back, okay. he's getting a little concerned now when you continue getting closer, he takes a step back not because you're near or anything but this behavior is... just strange.

you're in his face already and before he can question (loudly) what in the seven's name you're doing before you just casually peck him on the lips?

WHAT IN TARNATION!

stiffens up immediately, his face looks like it's holding in a yell. maybe that's why it's getting so red? he's just standing there with shoulders so tense he looks like he's trying to seem big.

"..." WHAT JUST HAPPENED. DID THIS HUMAN JUST.. NO, WE ARE MERELY BEST FRIENDS—are we even friends.. NO! THIS IS THE MOST INAPPROPRIATE ACT TO COMMIT. THIS HUMAN NEEDS TO KNOW BOUNDARIES. I mean he enjoyed that and all—I mean what..

"why are you so quiet."

if only you knew.

[glossdebut]

PRICE OF FAME | MYG ★ 02

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SERIES SUMMARY: You were about ready to give up, your career nowhere near what you dreamed it’d be when you started at eighteen, bright-eyed and naive. Reality for you these past few years has consisted of pouting at a camera, ignoring whispers of your name at company events, and ensuring that the stupid, tiny designer purses they keep forcing on you can at least carry a flask. But now, you’re helping a friend in need. For the first time in a long time, it feels like you’re doing something worthwhile with your life. Too bad Min Yoongi, the newest thorn in your side, seems insistent on stopping you.

✧ SERIES TAGS: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut, fake/pretend relationship (not main couple), rockstar!yoongi, model!reader, guitarist yoongi, singer jungkook, bassist taehyung, drummer jimin, manager namjoon, yoongi & maknae line are in a rock band, reader & seokjin are best friends, yoongi & hoseok are best friends (sope duo ftw), yoongi has a tongue piercing, reader is a brat

✧ CHAPTER WARNINGS: aqua uses her journalism degree to write a fake article, lots of yoongi pov, MC lore drop, extremely brief descriptions of sexual acts, some questions are answered but not many, sope cameo! also seokjin cameo! do you detect a hint of hyyh yoonkook-ism? because you should! EVENTS TRANSPIRE! (see series masterlist for series warnings)

✧ CHAPTER WORDCOUNT: 5.2k words

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: damn i always drop early don't i? here's a pre-holiday gift for those of you who celebrate thanksgiving. thank you to tanni @yooniivrse for beta reading SO FUCKING FAST LOL <3

p.s. from here on out updates are going to be much slower. we’re getting to the Real Plot now and i have to use my brain a little bit more. plus i want to make time to write other, shorter things! so be sure to check out my other fics if waiting for this becomes unbearable lol

CH. 02: A HIT IS HARD TO RESIST

Love in the Spotlight: Is "Burn The Stage" Singer Falling for a Scandal Magnet?

It’s the love story that’s rocking Seoul—and leaving fans divided. Jeon Jeongguk, the smooth-talking, chart-topping frontman of “Burn The Stage,” has been the subject of intense speculation after rumors surfaced that he’s been secretly seeing one of South Korea’s most talked about models, YLN YN. And while Jeongguk’s millions of fans would do anything to claim him as their own, it’s YN’s wild reputation that’s making this relationship one to watch.

The dating rumors of the two surfaced online when YN was seen on the balcony at Wasteland during the final show of the Burn The Stage’s world tour. Eyewitnesses claim that after the show, the two were spotted backstage together, sharing a private moment.

While Jeongguk’s image has been polished and pristine despite his rock star persona, YN’s name is frequently linked with controversy. From a string of public feuds with fellow influencers to rumors of reckless behavior, she has garnered a reputation for attracting scandal wherever she goes—a trait at odds with what fans have seen from Jeongguk. So what could possibly draw the two together?

Some fans are already sounding the alarm, warning Jeongguk that dating someone like YN could tarnish his squeaky-clean image.

“I don’t know why Jeongguk would choose her,” one concerned fan commented on Instagram. “She’s trouble, and he’s too good for her. His image will be ruined if this is true.”

Despite the criticism, others are rallying behind the couple, suggesting that Jeongguk may be the one to help YN change her ways. “Everyone has a past,” one fan posted on X (formerly known as Twitter). “Maybe Jeongguk sees something in her that no one else does. People can grow and evolve.”

While neither Jeongguk or YN’s companies have released an official statement on the matter, YN hasn’t been shy about fueling the rumors. In a recent post on her Instagram, she shared a photo of herself wearing a Burn The Stage hoodie, captioning it, “i guess i’ve got good taste 👀” which has sent fans into overdrive speculating that she’s sending a not-so-subtle message about her relationship with Jeongguk.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Yoongi groans to himself. He can’t read any more of this drivel. The wooden table in front of him suddenly looks all too inviting, perfect for him to bash his skull into.

You’re everywhere, completely inescapable for the past week. Apparently, Yoongi’s bi-weekly breakfast with Hoseok is no exception. The first one they’ve been able to have since the tour, too. God forbid he wants to mindlessly scroll on his phone for a second while he waits for his friend to return, because there you are, taunting him. 

After the concert, Yoongi had been so annoyed by seeing you again. Pissed off at the circumstances. Ready to do anything in his power to extricate you from Jeongguk as fast as possible.

The past week has dulled his rage considerably. The endorphins of playing live have died, as have the potent emotions that come with them. Yoongi’s logical adult brain has set in, leaving him with only a headache.

“Woah,” Hoseok says, snorting as he slides a coffee into Yoongi’s field of vision. He slips into the booth across from him, taking a sip from his own cup with an amused look on his face. “You look much more homicidal than I left you. What could’ve possibly pissed you off in the last five minutes?”

Wordlessly, Yoongi hands Hoseok his phone, the article still displayed on the screen. Hoseok silently reads the first few paragraphs, and when he scrolls back up to look at the photo attached, his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“Oh?” he says, zooming in on your face. On Yoongi’s phone. The audacity. “This is the Innisfree girl, right? She’s dating Jeongguk?”

“Allegedly.”

“Is her skin really that nice in person?”

“Not the point,” Yoongi hisses, snatching his phone back from Hoseok’s grip and hastily closing the article to get your dumb face off of his phone. Dumb, poreless face.

“Okay, touchy,” Hoseok says, raising his hands in surrender. “Please explain the point.”

“I don’t trust her,” Yoongi says, tapping his foot under the table. “The relationship is bogus. She’s after something, I just can’t figure out what it is.”

“And you’re basing this on…?”

“Intuition,” Yoongi says flatly.

“Right. Because your intuition is never wrong,” Hoseok says, tone laden with sarcasm. “Need I remind you that you weren’t the biggest fan of me when we met?”

“I thought you were annoying,” Yoongi agrees. He takes a sip of his coffee to mask a smirk. “Who says I was wrong about that?”

“I’d probably be hurt if you hadn’t essentially bought us couple rings last year,” Hoseok says, waggling his eyebrows. “You want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

“Aish, they weren’t couple rings,” Yoongi complains. “Stop saying that. The wrong person is going to hear you and think it’s true.”

“Your ears are pink!” Hoseok exclaims triumphantly, pointing at the evidence. “Your mouth says one thing, but your ears always give you away.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Yoongi grumbles, pulling his beanie down. “Stop changing the subject.”

“Right, right. Sorry, hyung, you’re just so easy to tease,” Hoseok says, not even bothering to stifle his snickering. The bastard. “Jeonggukie’s new lady love. Go. Wait, do you want to fuck her?”

“What?” Yoongi sputters, eyes widening because what the fuck? “No—what? Look, it’s not just intuition, okay? I’m right about her. And you saw what the article said—drama follows her wherever she goes. Maybe she thinks dating Jeongguk will rehabilitate her image, or something like that.”

Yoongi had been so confident that wasn’t the case, since you’ve maintained all of your brand deals even in the midst of your many scandals, but maybe he was wrong. He still doesn’t know why you’re doing this, and it’s like the closer he gets, the less he can see.

“I don’t know,” Yoongi groans, rubbing his hands over his face. “She’s also just a bitch.”

“Okay,” Hoseok concedes, crossing his arms. “If you say so. She’s a bitch who you don’t want to fuck. What are you going to do about it?”

Yoongi shrugs. “I have that dinner tomorrow night. I was thinking of talking to Jeongguk after or something.”

“And telling him that his girlfriend is the devil? I’m sure that’ll go over well.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Yoongi sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “Jeongguk is a stubborn kid, but he knows I wouldn’t ruin something good for him. If I word it right, maybe he’ll listen.”

“You’re not wrong. For whatever reason, Jeongguk trusts your judgement.”

Yoongi glares at him. “Go fuck yourself, Hob-ah.”

“Whatever, hyung,” Hoseok says, rolling his eyes. “Let’s talk about something else, please. I haven’t seen you in months.”

Yoongi relents easily. He doesn’t really want to be talking about you either, not when it feels like an ice pick is being jammed into his temple. 

He’ll just have to figure out what to say to Jeongguk later.

★ ★ ★

“Wow,” Seokjin says around a mouthful of jjapaguri. “He really hates you, huh?”

He’s fresh out of a long shift at the hospital, but he still headed straight to your apartment at the promise of food and celebrity gossip—his two biggest weaknesses, especially when the food doesn’t have to be made by him and the celebrity is you.

“Seems like it,” you sigh, using your chopsticks to push your noodles around aimlessly. “Normally I wouldn’t care, you know? Like, get in line, asshole.”

“But you care.”

“But I care.”

“Because of Jeongguk,” Seokjin says knowingly.

You drop your chopsticks and groan, stifling the sound by covering your face with your hands.

“Yes,” you concede. “But not because of that. I just want to help him, you know? He got me through a really rough spot last year. I’d feel like shit if I agreed to do this for him and then it ended up blowing up in our faces because of me.”

“Mmm,” Seokjin hums, chewing thoughtfully. “I’m sure the fact that you’re in love with him is a big motivator, though.”

You pick up your head, glaring at him. “Love is a big word, Jin.”

A very big word, you think, picking up your glass of wine to take a long gulp. God help you.

“A fitting one, too!” he says gleefully. “Come oooon. No judgement here. He’s hot. Not as hot as me, of course, but I have to give credit where credit is due.”

“Yes, you’re a god among men,” you mumble, rolling your eyes. “I don’t love Jeongguk. Not like that, at least. Do I need to remind you of the whole reason I’m doing this in the first place?”

“Yeah, yeah, the secret girlfriend,” Seokjin says, waving a hand dismissively. “Whatever. You’re spending a lot of time with him, is all I’m saying. The tides may turn in your favor.”

Wow, and you thought you were delusional.

“Fat chance,” you deadpan, polishing off your wine. “Especially if Yoongi is as persistent as he’s making himself out to be.”

“What’s his beef with you, anyway?” Seokjin asks, snorting to himself as he picks up a piece of steak with his chopsticks. Hilarious. “I feel like he’s going a little far for it to just be protectiveness, you know?”

Right. When you’d given Seokjin the rundown via text, you’d left one pretty substantial piece of information out.

“He said, um,” you start, picking at one of your nails nervously—a habit that Hyerin would smack you on the back of the head for, if she were here. “He said that he knows… more than I think.”

Just like that, all of the humor drains from Seokjin’s expression. “Meaning…?”

“I don’t know,” you say, your voice wobbling just a bit. “I don’t know, but if it does mean that… It makes the idea of rolling over and doing what he says pretty enticing, not gonna lie.”

“Fuck that,” Seokjin says firmly, your eyes widening in response. “If he’s the type of guy to use something like that as blackmail, then he’s a piece of shit. I don’t care if he is trying to protect Jeongguk.”

“He can’t know, though,” you groan, fully resting your head on the cool marble of your kitchen countertop now. 

You’ve been wracking your brain for days now, trying to figure out if it’s even possible for Yoongi to know anything. You’re pretty confident the answer is no, but there’s no way to be one-hundred percent sure without confirmation from the man himself. And you’d honestly rather die.

“Nobody knows except the people involved and you. You’re the only one who didn’t sign an NDA, and I’m pretty confident you’ve never met Min Yoongi. Not to mention you just wouldn’t—”

“Share that information? Hell no, I wouldn’t,” Seokjin interrupts, scoffing. “Okay, well… Regardless of whether he knows anything, he honestly just sounds like a dick and I think you should kill him.”

You snort, lifting your eyes to look at him from where your head rests on the counter. “Maybe that can be plan B,” you offer.

“Fine, then what’s the plan A?” Seokjin counters, crossing his arms and raising a conspiratorial eyebrow at you.

Fantastic question, one you’ve been thinking about the answer to since you abruptly left the afterparty that night. It’s not like you can tell Jeongguk what’s going on and risk having to tell him the whole truth. You trust Jeongguk, but…

No, it’s not an option. You don’t want anyone else to know. So, if Yoongi’s going to insist on being a problem for you, you might as well return the favor. It’s only fair.

You grin, lifting your head and leaning closer to Seokjin.

“I’m going to make his life a living hell.”

★ ★ ★

Yoongi hasn’t touched a cigarette since he was twenty one years old.

He picked up the nasty habit at sixteen, when one of his friends doled out African Ice Jacks amongst the group, bragging that his hyung had bought the pack for him. As soon as the lighter was flicked on and the bittersweet taste of bubblegum and tobacco filled Yoongi’s lungs, he was hooked.

It was stupidly easy to get his hands on cigarettes before he was of legal age, even when his friend’s hyung couldn’t supply them for whatever reason. All of the adults around him smoked, including his parents. 

It felt as though cigarettes were an extension of his hand, felt wrong when he didn’t have the option to light one up. During school hours, Yoongi’s fingers would twitch on his desk as he waited for his last class to end.

He was a fucking anxious, wound-up kid. Smoking was the only thing that helped, sometimes. If he had a shit day, at least he could have a cigarette.

When the band got signed, though, things changed. Despite the fact that the majority of the population in Korea smoked, celebrities were vilified for it in the media. For whatever fucking reason. Yoongi didn’t care much what the media had to say about him, but he reasoned that it would be pretty stupid to let his dream die over Ice Jacks. So he quit.

It was hard at first, but it’s been five years now. After so much time, it’s rare that cigarettes even cross his mind, even when others smoke around him.

Sitting across the table from you now, though, Yoongi’s fingers twitch just like they had when he was in grade school staring at a clock.

He and the band started frequenting Yoojung Sikdang long before there was any real hope for fame. It was their chosen spot after every practice. The ajumma who owns it knows their names, remembers their orders by heart. Over the years, the only part of the restaurant that’s changed is their autographed photos on the wall. They’ve celebrated every single milestone here, big or small, just the five of them. Alone.

Wrapping up their first world tour should be no different. It’s their biggest milestone yet, and all Yoongi wanted was to eat ssambap with his best friends. Remind himself that none of the fame matters as long as they still have this.

But here you are. Of course. Encroaching on everything Yoongi’s built, everything he holds dear to his heart.

The only time it’s ever been more than the five of them here was the night they signed their contract, accompanied by two label executives. Even if you’re allegedly riding Jeongguk’s dick, no way are you that fucking important.

Yoongi would laugh if he wasn’t so pissed off. You are such a fucking pest. He just can’t shake you off.

“You don’t like what you ordered?” Jimin asks you, snapping Yoongi out of his thoughts.

Yoongi’s made an effort to keep to himself for the majority of the dinner. No use in ruining everyone else’s night—it’s still a special one, after all. Besides, he’s still trying to be an adult about things. You may have ruined his plan to talk to Jeongguk tonight, but it’s not like he’s going to cause a scene in front of a restaurant full of people—

“Oh, I’m just not very hungry,” you say. Yoongi’s eyes narrow.

All you’ve been doing all night is burrowing into Jeongguk’s side, barely touching your food. Lipgloss still perfectly in place. Normally, Yoongi wouldn’t care—he’s not paying for it. He wastes food on the label’s dime all the time. At Yoojung Sikdang, though?

“Why did you come, then?” 

The words come out of Yoongi’s mouth before he can stop them, sharp and pointed. He’d fully intended to keep his mouth shut, eat his food, and then go home. Maybe buy a pack on the way. But now they’re out there, and Yoongi can’t bring himself to care. Certainly not to feel bad.

For the first time since you’d walked in on Jeongguk’s arm, you make eye contact with him. On purpose this time—challenging. Yoongi’s not a little bitch, so he stares back. 

“Because Jeonggukie invited me,” you say, faux sweetness dripping from your words as you lean your head on Jeongguk’s shoulder. Eyes still fixed on Yoongi. “I figured it would be okay, since you all gave me such a warm welcome last time.”

Yeah. Yoongi’s buying that pack of cigarettes. 

“You’re always welcome to come out with us,” Taehyung coos, like he thinks you’re the cutest thing in the world. Knowing Taehyung, he probably does.

Everyone seems to be in agreement on that front, too, except Yoongi who rolls his eyes as he shoves a ssam into his mouth. Whatever.

“It’s gonna be hell getting you out of here, though,” Namjoon adds from Yoongi’s left. He leans over to glance at the crowd of people peering through the front of the restaurant, cameras at the ready, desperate to get a glimpse of you and Jeongguk. Not that you’re making it particularly hard.

“We’ve never had a crowd like that out there,” Jimin says, in awe. “I’m not surprised, though. Those articles about you two have been getting tons of clicks.”

“Ah,” you say. If Yoongi didn’t know better, he’d think you sound almost sheepish. “That, um. That might be my fault. I told my manager I was coming here. She must’ve tipped someone off.”

Of course.

“Anything for a photo-op, right?” Yoongi sneers, unable to help himself. It’s such an easy shot, after all. You’re being so transparent.

“Hyung,” Taehyung says, eyes wide as if he’s appalled. 

“I’m sorry, Yoongi-ssi,” you say, tilting your head at him. That little flash of a challenge is still in your eyes, and Yoongi doesn’t like it one bit. “Do you have a problem with me being here?”

Yoongi scoffs, sitting up. When he speaks, it’s laced with bitterness. “We just don’t normally come here with guests, that’s all. I guess I didn’t get the memo that that’d suddenly changed.”

“I invited her, hyung,” Jeongguk says. “She’s my girlfriend.” He wraps his arm around you protectively and, fuck, you’re good. You’re so good at making Yoongi look like the asshole.

“I get that, Guk-ah,” Yoongi tries, his voice considerably softer now. “But, come on… Here? And the mob outside, I mean… Do you really think that was just a harmless mistake?”

“What are you implying?” Jeongguk grits out. He’s angry now, that much is clear, and it’s Yoongi’s fault. 

You have him trapped. He’s surrounded by landmines, unable to come up with a single response that could possibly defuse them.

“Come on, guys,” Namjoon says, glancing at Yoongi pointedly. “We’re here to celebrate.”

“If Yoongi-ssi is uncomfortable that I’m here, maybe I should go,” you say, making to get up.

Jeongguk reaches for your arm, stopping you. “No,” he says. “Yoongi-hyung, you can either get over it and stay with us, or you can leave. You’re the only one who doesn’t want her here.”

Un-fucking-believable.

“Are you serious?” Yoongi scoffs, looking around at everyone. Is this really happening to him right now? This is his band!

The table is deadly silent. Everyone refuses to meet Yoongi’s eyes except you and Jeongguk, who raises a challenging eyebrow at him. It’s immediately apparent to Yoongi that he’s not winning this one. That somehow, he’s ruined the night meant to celebrate him and his friends.

Bitterly, Yoongi laughs. “Fine.”

No one protests when he pushes his chair away from the table and stands up, and that stings much more than Yoongi would like to admit.

He catches your eye as he grabs his jacket off the back of his chair, anger flaring at how pleased you look. 

“Have a nice fucking dinner,” Yoongi mutters, before turning on his heel and walking towards the door. Leaving his friends to face a crowd of photographers and fans that you called.

As he walks out into the cold, dodging the phones being shoved in his face, all he can think about is the way Jeongguk had looked at him.

★ ★ ★

You met Jeon Jeongguk a year ago, give or take a few months. You just remember it was cold.

Less than twenty-four hours after a particularly nasty breakup with a guy you didn’t love but liked enough, you were back on the clock. Zipped into something tight and expensive, wearing the best waterproof mascara money could buy.

You hated those events to begin with—the galas, end of year ceremonies for awards you were no longer viable to win. They were torture for you. But the sting of being freshly single only made things worse, so you had decided to make the most of it.

You may not have been able to win a KMA, but you were well within your rights to treat the KMAs themselves like your own personal dating pool. No better way to rid yourself of your ex like getting with someone new, you thought.

Which is where Jeongguk came in, devastatingly hot in his tailored suit. You’d ran into him on your way from the bathroom—much like you had with Yoongi, now that you think about it—and you instantly found yourself wondering what it would be like to kiss a guy with a lip ring. Jeongguk, as it turned out, was very interested in showing you. 

You were both a little drunk, but the attraction was real. Instant. 

One very handsy cab ride later, and you were in his apartment, grinding on his lap as you experienced first-hand just how little of an obstacle a lip ring can be if the man who has it knows what he’s doing.

Things were going so well—Jeongguk’s tongue exploring your mouth as you felt his cock stiffening beneath you. But it all came crashing down as soon as his hand slid under your dress.

The fact of the matter was, you’d just been dumped. Regardless of how strongly you did or didn’t feel about your ex, you’d still been dumped and it still hurt. As soon as Jeongguk really touched you, it became all too apparent that you wouldn’t be able to go through with it. Luckily, at the slightest bit of hesitance from you, Jeongguk’s hand immediately retreated from under your dress. 

He was sweet about it. Really, really sweet. Valiantly ignored his erection and offered to listen instead, which made you laugh. Comforted you even though you hadn’t thought you needed it. Let you sleep in his bed anyway. When you left the next morning, kindly offered to be your friend, because you clearly needed one.

You’ve been friends ever since. 

Not in the same way that Seokjin is your friend, of course. Seokjin is your best friend, has been since you were both kids. But Jeongguk just… He gets the industry, in a way that Seokjin never will.

Which brings you to last month.

Last month, when Jeongguk called you nervously in the middle of his tour schedule. Asked you to be his fake girlfriend in guilty, hushed whispers.

You didn’t need to know why. You were always going to say yes. 

But Jeongguk explained anyway. He explained that he has a girlfriend, a real girlfriend, who isn’t from your world. That he hasn’t been able to see her nearly as much as he’d like to because he’s terrified of the backlash she could receive from being connected to him romantically.

You read between the lines—you have nothing to lose, at this point. There isn’t a day that goes by where someone online doesn’t have something to say about you, reputable or not.

He explained that in order to maintain the lie, no one in the industry could know the truth, not even Jeongguk’s bandmates. According to him, they wouldn’t understand why he felt the need to go to such lengths. You didn’t completely agree then, but having met Yoongi now, you get it.

His girlfriend knows about you, he’d told you. She knows who you are, knows about that night last year, and that she still agreed to let him ask you this. She doesn’t see you as a threat.

It stung, a little. Of course it did. You and Jeongguk may be friends, but you’ve always felt a hint of something else there. Maybe it was the kindness he’d shown you when you met. Maybe it’s just him. But you never said anything, convinced it was one-sided.

Clearly you were right.

Still, you want to do this for him. You care about him, and just because you can’t maintain a stable relationship doesn’t mean Jeongguk doesn’t deserve a chance at one.

You think, if Yoongi knew, he’d feel the same.

★ ★ ★

Five years down the drain, Yoongi thinks. Ashes his cigarette. Oh well.

Honestly, it’s not even really about you, although Yoongi would love to pretend otherwise. If he pins it all on you, it makes his mission to get rid of you all the more noble. The label breathing down his neck. The impending deadline of an album he doesn’t know if he can write. Dongsaengs that don’t know how to stay out of trouble. If it’s all your fault, it can’t be his.

This—the smoking—was bound to happen, with or without you. You just helped the process along.

He’s perched on his windowsill, puffing his way through cigarette number two, when his phone buzzes next to him.

Namjoon doesn’t call him nearly ever. Yoongi has a way that he likes things done, and Namjoon is probably his only friend that actually respects it. Emails for work. In-person or texts for personal shit. Video calls never. Phone calls only if Yoongi needs to hear it now and there’s no other way.

Yoongi picks up.

“Joon-ah?” Cautious. He likes phone calls the least because phone calls mean trouble, like someone is in the hospital. He’s gotten that call before, more than once.

“Hyung,” Namjoon says. “Do you have a minute?”

Namjoon wouldn’t be asking that if someone was in the hospital, so Yoongi allows himself to unclench. Just a little. “Yeah, I have a minute.”

He hears rustling on the line, like Namjoon is fidgeting. But Namjoon is always fidgeting, so that could mean nothing.

“I figured, given the events of tonight, that it would be a good call to warn you ahead of time. I would’ve come by your apartment, but I’ve got meetings all morning tomorrow and it’s late. I didn’t want to wait until next time I see you though, so…” Namjoon starts, trailing off. 

Yoongi works his jaw. “Spit it out, Joon-ah,” he says, because Namjoon is shit at delivering bad news. He’s always beating around the bush, trying to soften the blow. It’s great for the kids, but it makes Yoongi feel like he’s about to have to bury his first-born or some shit. Yoongi likes clear, direct.

Namjoon knows this, so he always gets it right on the second try.

“YN is going to the Jeju house with you guys,” Namjoon says. Clear and direct, but the absolute last thing Yoongi wants to hear right now. 

“You’re fucking with me.”

“I’m not.”

“She has literally no fucking reason to be there, Joon-ah,” Yoongi grits out. The cigarette secured between his index and middle knuckles has burned down to nothing, singes his fingers. He hisses and flicks it out the window. “Is she going to help us write an album? Is that it?”

“Hyung—“

“No, she isn’t. She’s going to distract my lead singer the whole time and make the whole point of the trip fucking impossible,” he interrupts, because once he gets started he can’t stop. “Who signed off on this? Doesn’t she have a job? Isn’t there a goddamn camera that needs to be smoldered at?”

“Yoongi-hyung,” Namjoon says. He’s using his manager voice, and Yoongi shuts up instantly. 

Namjoon uses this voice on the kids all the time. Realistically, it’s not a big deal. It’s his job. But he’s never had to use it on Yoongi before.

He deserves it, though. Yoongi knows that. He knows that he’s been insufferable ever since you showed up, and he doesn’t like it either. He’d wanted to talk to Jeongguk, to have a heart-to-heart with him about it, but that’s proven impossible given that you’re always around. And Namjoon is their voice of reason.

Yoongi tries again.

“I don’t like her,” he explains, keeping his voice level. “I don’t think she has Jeongguk’s best interests at heart. I’m just trying to look out for him.”

The line stays quiet for a long moment, like Namjoon is taking special care in choosing his next words. It would make Yoongi nervous, but that’s just what Namjoon does.

“Hyung, you need to leave it alone,” he finally says.

What the fuck.

Yoongi could have foreseen plenty of responses from Namjoon. He’s been on the receiving end of Namjoon’s sage advice more than he’s proud of. Yoongi worries a lot, and Namjoon is particularly good at quieting those worries, particularly when they pertain to the kids. And they usually do. But he sure as shit wasn’t expecting to be blown off like that.

“Joon-ah, Jeongguk is gonna—“

“Jeongguk is a grown man. He’s fully entitled to make his own decisions, and you need to respect that if you don’t want to lose him.”

Lose him? Is Yoongi going insane? Is he fucking missing some integral piece of this puzzle that everyone else seems to have?

The notion of losing Jeongguk is completely absurd. How could he lose Jeongguk over something like this? Jeongguk, the college freshman with the huge eyes who followed Yoongi around like a puppy. Jeongguk who sang so softly when Yoongi asked, who beamed with pride when Yoongi told him he had something special. Jeongguk who dropped out alongside Yoongi, took a risk because he trusted his hyung to take care of him.

It was Yoongi and Jeongguk before it was anyone else, and Yoongi has never let Jeongguk down once, won’t allow himself to. This is the thing that’s going to change that? 

“What are you even talking about?”

“Just… leave this one alone, Yoongi,” Namjoon sighs. “She’s coming whether you like it or not, and you need to at least pretend to play nice.”

Yoongi doesn’t appreciate being treated like a child who’s the cause of his parent’s headache, not by Kim Namjoon. The label dickheads are one thing, but the one person Yoongi has entrusted with everything for the past five years? Before that, even? Fuck that. Namjoon doesn’t talk to him this way, and that’s not about to change because of you.

“Namjoon-ah, if you’re going to blow me off, at least put my cock in your mouth and do it right,” Yoongi spits, hanging up before he can think better of his words.

Fuck.

Yoongi hasn’t bitten Namjoon’s head off like that in a long time. It doesn’t feel good to be back in old patterns like this. Yoongi knows why he doesn’t trust you, but he doesn’t know what it is about you that makes it so—urgent. Like he’s a wild animal primed to bite. To hurt. Yoongi isn’t that guy. 

If what Namjoon said is true, if Jeongguk really is at risk of slipping through Yoongi’s fingers, he has to get his fucking act together. He has to try harder to handle this like an adult.

So, you’re coming to Jeju. Fine. Yoongi can be civil.

Even if the only way for him to be civil is not to speak to you at all.

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