#sorry it’s quite sad and proper angst there | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

criminalamnesia · 1 year ago

Text

Pretty like the sun

warnings: reader described as having long, silver hair; no use of y/n; female!reader; Targaryen!reader; sneaking around with harwin; little sliver of angst but that’s it; fluff; not proofread sorry

summary: you spend a morning with harwin.

author’s note: I miss harwin strong. that is all.

The soft, early morning light poked through the thin fabric covering your window. You stirred in bed, eyes scrunching tighter together as you attempted to will yourself back asleep.

“Good morning,” Harwin’s chest rumbled with the sound of his voice. He was almost whispering, as if afraid to spook you. One of his hands trailed up your back, his fingers ghosting over your bare skin.

“Mhm,” you grumbled, refusing to open your eyes. You snuggled closer to his side, your head laid right over his heart. The reassuring rhythm of its beat brought a small smile to your lips.

“What time is it?” You asked after a moment of comfortable silence, your eyes still closed. You could feel the heat of the sun now, its rays more intense as it rose in the sky.

“Almost time for me to go,” he replied. The hand trailing up your spine moved to rest in your hair, his fingers lightly scratching at your scalp. His free hand moved over your body, looping around you and pulling you impossibly closer.

It was always like this in the mornings you spent together. Hushed words and warm touches. The two of you tangled together, holding each other as close as possible. This time was sacred to the both of you. It was stolen from the rest of the Keep, something just for the two of you to share, damning the rest of them.

“Do you have to?” You asked, but you already knew the answer as you finally opened your eyes. You tilted your head back to look up at your lover. His eyes met yours, and he gave a small smile as he nodded.

“You know I do, Princess. I cannot be caught in here, your father would have my head.”

You rolled your eyes as you turned your head to plant a kiss to his sternum. He hummed in contentment.

“You underestimate my power in this keep, Ser. At most, my father would have your finger. Maybe a hand, if it were a bad day for the King,” you grinned as you teased him, meeting his gaze once more.

It was Harwin’s turn to roll his eyes now. His fingers dug deeper into your scalp, massaging the skin there. You groaned and swatted his hand away, knowing his actions would put you back to sleep.

As much as you wanted to succumb to the welcoming embrace of slumber once more, you knew you’d regret it. Harwin wouldn’t want to wake you, and so he’d slip from the room quietly, depriving you of the chance to wish his farewell. You despised it when he did that– and he knew as much, yet he still tried.

He told you once that he hated seeing the look in your eyes as he left, and that’s why he tried to lull you back to sleep. He didn’t want to watch the sadness and anger seep into your expression as it did every time he snuck away.

It wasn’t sadness and anger aimed towards him, of course. It was at this whole situation– the fact that you two had to hide your affections. The King had made it quite clear you were to remain untouched and unmarried until your sister, Rhaenyra, found a match.

You disobeyed his wishes, but what the King didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him– at least that’s what you believed.

“Where do they have you stationed today?” You questioned the man below you as you turned your gaze to the villainous window that disturbed the peace the night gave both of you. “Guarding ‘Nyra again?”

“Guarding you, actually,” he said, and you sighed.

Having your lover guard you was a double-edged sword. You were with him all day, but you were not allowed to truly be with him. It was almost torture, how the man you loved was right beside you and you couldn’t touch him. You couldn’t even speak to him the way you wanted. You had to remain proper, as did he, and you had to keep up this carefully constructed facade of a princess and her loyal guard.

“You do not wish to be accompanied by me today?” He asked, and you finally pushed yourself up, your hand resting on his chest to support yourself.

The arm he had looped around you fell, his grip now at your waist. His thumb caressed the skin there as he watched your face with concern. His other hand remained in your hair, moving to brush strands of silver from your eyes.

“You know that is not the issue,” you told him.

“Sometimes it is the issue. Remember just a fortnight ago, when you asked for another guard just because I slipped out the night before?”

“You did not tell me you had to go,” you said as you shuffled over to the other side of the bed. His hands retracted from your body to let you move.

“I was not aware I needed to ask your permission to get a glass of water,” he retorted, and you scoffed.

“The last time you snuck out during the night, it was because you were sent to guard my sister for her two week journey to see whoever that lord was. Lannister? Baratheon? I do not recall— but it does not matter. You did not tell me you were leaving!”

“Love–” he began, but you spoke again.

“No, I know, Harwin. You did not know either. I am not trying to fight,” you reached a hand towards him, which he clasped in one of his own. His fingers intertwined with yours, and you smiled.

“I just worry for you. I fear one day you will slip out before I can say goodbye, and I will never see you again.”

Harwin frowned, his eyes trained on you as he gave your hand a small squeeze. You inhaled deeply. “I do not want to keep sneaking around,” you admitted.

“Nor do I, but–” he began.

“But we must,” you finished his sentence with a sigh. “Just until my sister finally meets her match. Which will probably be after we are all dead.”

Harwin laughed and used his grip on your hand to pull you back into him. You gave a sound of surprise as you fell onto his chest, both his hands snaking around your body to keep you glued to him.

“The Princess will wed soon, my love. Your father will make sure of it. And if not, then I am sure you will make sure of it. Gods help Rhaenyra if it gets to that point. You are quite scary when you are angry.”

“As scary as Daemon?” You questioned, your eyebrows raised as you glanced up at Harwin. A teasing grin painted your lips.

“Oh, much scarier. The Rogue Prince wishes he was as terrifying as you.”

“Careful, Ser,” you giggled. “My uncle would feed you to Caraxes for such an insult.”

“It would be an honorable death, dying to defend my Princess.”

You shuffled upwards so that your face was right above his. Your hair fell around the both of you, creating another barrier the sun streaming through the window fought to break through.

“You are insufferable,” you whispered, your nose brushing his.

“Am I?” He asked with a grin.

“Mhm,” you hummed in answer before lowering your lips to his.

The kiss lasted a few wonderful, peaceful seconds before a sobering knock sounded at the door.

“Princess!” Your lady-in-waiting called from behind the door, her knock becoming louder as she tried to rouse you. Unbeknownst to her, you were very awake at the moment.

Your eyes widened as you looked down at your lover who was very much naked, very much still in your bed, and very much late to his post.

“Princess, are you awake? Are you in there? I don’t see Ser Harwin out here. Are you alright?” You could hear panic begin to sneak into the woman’s tone. You knew how it looked to her– a locked door, no guard, and a silent princess? She probably thought you were dead.

You pulled yourself from Harwin’s embrace once more and hurried out of bed, reaching for the night clothes you had discarded the night before. Harwin followed suit in rushing from bed. He began grabbing at clothes and armor, trying to be silent but quick as he redressed.

“I’m awake!” You shouted to your lady-in-waiting as you ran a hand through your hair. You turned to watch as Harwin gave up on buttoning his shirt and began gathering his armor in his hands.

“You have got to go!” You whisper-shouted at him.

“I am trying! This damn armor–” he groaned as he nearly dropped his metal chest plate. You cringed as you watched his barely catch it, releasing a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. That sound would’ve had your lady busting down your door in an instant.

“Princess, are you alright in there?” You heard your lady ask as the door knob jiggled.

“Quite!” You yelled back, your pitch rising in panic. You rushed to Harwin’s side and began snatching up the remaining pieces of his armor. You ushered him to the secret passage in your room, prying open the door and all but pushing him inside. “Just looking for something!”

You pushed the armor in your hands into Harwin’s, who was looking at you with a wide grin.

“What?” You asked incredulously, curious as to how he could be smiling at being nearly caught.

“Looking a little disheveled, Princess.”

“Gods, go!” You scolded him with no real bite to your words. You shoved at his broad shoulders, careful not to disturb the mountain of metal in his arms.

He gave a quiet laugh as he swiftly ducked down to kiss your forehead. “See you soon, Princess.”

With that, he disappeared down the dark passageway and you all but slammed the door closed. You quickly concealed it once more before smoothing down your nightdress, taking a deep breath, and opening the door for your lady-in-waiting.

“Gods, I thought you were being killed!” She cried, her voice shrill as she surged into the room.

You gave a breathless laugh as you shut the door behind her, noticing a forgotten trinket of Harwin’s laying on the stone floor. You swiftly kicked it under your wardrobe before your lady turned to face you.

“Where was Ser Harwin? He was not by your door,” she questioned as she began to assess your appearance.

“Oh, I sent him to fetch me a glass of water well before you arrived. He never returned. I suppose he was roped into something more important.”

“Hm,” your lady hummed, unconvinced, but she didn’t press the topic further.

The two of you fell into comfortable silence as you went through your routine of dressing.

Finally, as your lady finished clasping a ruby necklace around your neck, she cleared her throat to speak.

“Did he at least take all his armor with him this time?”

Your cheeks turned a deep red, and your lady laughed.

1K notes · View notes

bbokarimenu · 15 days ago

Text

Heartstrings ❤️‍🩹

pairing: idoldadbangchan! x fem reader!

genre: Angst

warnings: none

an: Love is a journey, not a destination. Thank you for reading! ❤️

Masterlist

The soft hum of the baby monitor on the nightstand was the only sound breaking the stillness of the room. I sat on the edge of our bed, staring at the digital clock glowing 2:37 AM. My chest tightened as I fought the urge to cry.

Bang Chan wasn’t here again.

It had been weeks since he’d had a proper day off, weeks since we’d spent more than a fleeting moment together as a family. He was always working—writing, producing, rehearsing. And while I knew his role as the leader of Stray Kids demanded so much of him, it felt like his role as a father and partner had taken a backseat.

A soft cry crackled through the baby monitor, jolting me out of my thoughts.

“Shh, I’m coming,” I whispered to no one, pulling myself together and heading into the nursery.

Our daughter, Luna, lay in her crib, her tiny face scrunched up as she whimpered. I reached in, scooping her up gently, and began rocking her in my arms.

“It’s okay, sweet girl,” I cooed. “Mommy’s here.”

Her cries subsided into soft sniffles, and I kissed her forehead, inhaling the faint scent of baby powder.

I felt a pang of sadness as I looked down at her. She deserved more than this. More than just me. She deserved her dad too.

The front door creaked open just after 4 AM. I was sitting on the couch, Luna finally asleep in her bassinet beside me.

Chan stepped inside, his shoulders slumped and his hoodie pulled low over his face. He looked exhausted, but when he saw me sitting there, his eyes widened in surprise.

“(Y/N), you’re still awake?”

I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest. “How could I sleep when I don’t even know if you’re coming home anymore?”

He winced, shutting the door quietly behind him. “I’m sorry. Practice ran late, and then I had some things to finish in the studio—”

“It’s always practice or the studio or something else,” I interrupted, my voice trembling with frustration. “Do you even realize how long it’s been since you spent time with us? With her?” I motioned toward the bassinet.

His gaze flickered to Luna, and guilt flashed across his face. “I know. I know I’ve been… absent. But you know how important this is. I’m doing this for us. For her future.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Her future? Chan, she doesn’t need all the money or fame in the world. She needs her dad. I need you.”

“I’m trying,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’m doing the best I can.”

“Are you?” I asked, standing up. “Because it feels like your best is reserved for everyone else but us.”

His shoulders sagged, and he ran a hand through his hair. “What do you want me to do, (Y/N)? Quit? Walk away from everything I’ve worked for?”

“I’m not asking you to quit,” I said, my voice softening. “I’m asking you to find a balance. To make time for the family you chose to have.”

He looked at me, and for a moment, I thought he might argue. But then he nodded, his expression weary. “You’re right. I’ve been… I’ve been failing you. Both of you. I’ll try harder, I promise.”

I wanted to believe him. I really did.

Days turned into weeks, and while Chan did make more of an effort to be present, it still felt like his heart was elsewhere. He’d hold Luna and play with her, but his phone was always nearby, his mind half in another world.

One evening, after putting Luna to bed, I found him in the living room with his laptop open. He was reviewing tracks, his headphones on, completely absorbed.

“Chan,” I said, standing in the doorway.

He didn’t respond.

“Chan,” I said again, louder this time.

He finally looked up, pulling his headphones off. “What’s up?”

I stared at him, my chest tightening. “Is this what it’s always going to be like? You here, but not really here?”

He frowned, closing his laptop. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about us,” I said, stepping closer. “I’m talking about how I feel like I’m raising Luna on my own while you chase this dream that seems more important than we are.”

“That’s not fair,” he said, his voice rising slightly. “You knew what you were signing up for when we started this. You knew my career would demand a lot of me.”

“I didn’t know it would mean losing you,” I shot back, tears spilling over.

His face softened, and he stood, reaching for me. “(Y/N), don’t say that. You haven’t lost me.”

“Haven’t I?” I whispered, pulling away. “Because it feels like I’m standing here begging for scraps of your time, your attention. And I shouldn’t have to beg, Chan. We shouldn’t have to beg.”

He looked at me, pain etched across his face, but he didn’t say anything. And in that silence, I felt my heart break a little more.

That night, I packed a bag for Luna and me.

I didn’t want to leave. I loved Chan more than anything, but I couldn’t keep living like this. I couldn’t keep feeling like we were an afterthought in his life.

When he found me in the nursery, his eyes widened in alarm. “What are you doing?”

“I need some space,” I said, my voice trembling. “I need to figure out what’s best for Luna and me.”

“(Y/N), please,” he said, his voice desperate. “Don’t do this. Don’t leave.”

“I don’t want to,” I admitted, tears streaming down my face. “But I can’t keep waiting for you to choose us.”

He reached for me, his hands trembling. “You don’t have to wait. I’ll do better, I swear. Just don’t go.”

I looked at him, my heart breaking at the sight of his tears. “I love you, Chan. But love isn’t enough if we’re the only ones fighting for this.”

With that, I picked up Luna and walked out the door, leaving behind the man I loved and the life we had built together.

The days that followed were some of the hardest of my life. I stayed with my sister, trying to find clarity amidst the chaos of my emotions.

Chan called and texted every day, apologizing, begging for another chance. I wanted to forgive him, to run back into his arms and pretend everything was okay. But I knew we needed more than just promises.

One evening, about two weeks after I left, there was a knock at the door.

I opened it to find Chan standing there, holding a small bouquet of flowers and a stuffed bunny for Luna. He looked exhausted, but there was a determination in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

I nodded, stepping aside to let him in.

He sat down on the couch, his hands trembling as he set the flowers and toy on the table. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he began. “About us. About everything.”

I sat across from him, waiting.

“You were right,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’ve been so focused on my career that I’ve been neglecting the most important people in my life. And I hate myself for it.”

Tears filled my eyes, but I didn’t say anything.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he continued. “I don’t want to lose our family. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to fix this. To be the husband and father you both deserve.”

“Chan,” I said softly, my voice trembling. “I don’t need perfection. I just need you to try. To really try.”

He reached across the table, taking my hands in his. “I will. I swear, (Y/N). You and Luna are my everything. And I’m going to prove it to you every day.”

Looking into his eyes, I saw the sincerity there. The love. The man I had fallen in love with.

Maybe it wouldn’t be easy. Maybe we had a long road ahead of us. But for the first time in weeks, I felt hope.

And that was enough to take the first step toward healing together.

#kpop imagines #stray kids imagines #bangchan imagines #bang chan angst #dad chan #lee felix fluff #lee know #lee felix #skz x reader #stray kids #skz imagines #bang chan smut #lee felix smut #stray kids smut #skz smut

305 notes · View notes

imabeautifulbutterfly · 3 months ago

Note

Congratulations on your follower milestone!! You deserve all of them and more! I'm sorry it took me so long to send in a request! If it's too late, I totally understand.

I will request something with Hunter (Star Wars) and the quote: "It doesn't matter who you are or what you look like, so long as somebody loves you."

I hate to be picky, but I've been so emotional lately, maybe I could ask that it not be a sad one? There can be angst, as long as it's not a sad ending? If that doesn't work out, let me know!

Thank you!

Carol (@clonethirstingisreal)

@clonethirstingisreal I'm so sorry you've been emotional lately. So I've tried to write something with a bit of angst but a whole lot of fluff. So I hope you like it.

Sending you a big squishy hug.

Love oo.

I'm That Somebody

Warning: Tease, fluff, slight angst, self-doubt, questioning the other person's love, tenderness, kissing, hugs. I think that's it, if I miss anything please let me know.

Main Master List | AO3 Link | Quote Roulette

Hunter sat in front of the comm station of your ship, smiling to himself, his eyes closed as he swung the chair back and forth slightly with his foot. Enjoying the simple peace of a supply run. No bounty hunters. No Hemlock. No Empire. Just a simple supply run.

You smirked as you saw him in his element.

“What’s got you so happy?”

“Just enjoying the restful trip.”

“More like you’re enjoying the quiet, since Wrecker, Omega, and Crosshair all decided to stay behind.”

He opened one of his eyes slightly, taking your wrist in his hand as he pulled you close, getting you to sit on his lap as his arms wrapped around your waist holding you tight against him.

“I’m enjoying being alone with you.”

“That’s because you’re a sucker.”

“No, that’s because I love you.” Hunter pressed his nose into your hair, smiling as he felt your hand gently rub his bicep, while your head gently rested on his.

You let out a huff, not quite believing him.

“What’s that for?” He asked, pulling back to look at you.

“What’s what for?”

“That scoff.”

A deep sigh escaped you, “I … I know you love me. I know.” You nodded softly, “But until when?”

“Until when what?”

“Until when are you going to love me?”

He looked at you confused and slightly hurt, “Wait.” He shifted you, so he could get a proper look at your face, “Do you think I’m going to get tired of you or something?”

“Aren’t you? I mean …” you closed your eyes, trying to tell your mouth to shut up, trying to get it to stop vomiting all your insecurities out into the open, “Let’s face it sweetie, I am not easy to deal with. I have insecurities. Issues. Anxieties…”

“And?” Hunter cut you off, “And that’s supposed to make me have a timer on my love.”

You opened your eyes, focusing on the floor of your shuttle, “Everyone else has.”

He let out a quiet sigh, “Do I look like everyone else?”

“No.”

“Do I look like I give in or call it quits like some weak civvie?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then why would I ever give up on you?”

Your eyes slowly shifted from the floor to look into his eyes, he looked hurt and vulnerable. It hit you how much you had hurt him, but your own insecurity, “I’m sorry… I … it’s not you…”

He gently pressed a finger to your lips, he could see how much your own mind was about to start spiralling and that’s the last thing he wanted. He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, pulling you closer.

“Cyare, please listen,” he spoke into your ear, as his nose brushed against your hair, "It doesn't matter who you are or what you look like, so long as somebody loves you. And I'm that somebody. I love you because of you. You can be the most annoying person and I’ll still love you. You can be ruthless and cold, and I’ll still love you. You can balloon up to a 1000 pounds, and I’ll still love you. I love you because you are funny, sweet, kind, a little neurotic,” he chuckled lightly, “a little crazy, but it all combines into this amazing person that I get to hold in my arms. I love you because you look at me like I matter. I love you because you don’t look down at me just because I’m a clone. You look at me, like I exist.”

He pulled back tilting your head slightly so he could kiss your neck, “I love you,” he pressed another kiss, “because you taste like my favourite fruit. I love you, because when you’re in my arms, I feel complete. That won’t change in two years, five years, 10, 20, until my last dying breath, how I feel about you will never change.” He pressed another kiss just behind your ear, pulling back to look at you. “So please don’t lose faith in me or think I’m like any of those other pieces of garbage that aren’t worthy of your love.”

As his hand cupped your cheek, you held it against you, leaning into his warmth as you closed your eyes and nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to …”

“I know.”

“I love you. I love you so much, I wonder if I’m deserving of your love.”

“You are,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek and jawline, “you are more than deserving of my love. I’ll remind you every day, every hour, every minute if you need me to.”

You wrap your arms around him, feeling his heartbeat against your chest, as the warmth from his body starts to settle against you, making you feel safe and protected. Hunter doesn’t hesitate as he wraps his arms around you and holds you tight.

“I’m never letting you go, cyare. Never.”

“Promise?”

“Till every star burns out.”

You let out a soft wet chuckle, as the tears you’d been fighting and holding back started to emerge, “Good, because I’m never letting you go.”

Hunter smiled as he pressed another kiss to your neck, “I like it when you’re possessive,” he chuckled, “I love you. Don’t forget that. Ever. I’ll always be here for you.”

Main Master List | AO3 Link | Quote Roulette

Tag List:

@liadamerondjarin

@badbatch-simp24

@spicymcnuggies

@lady-ren

@firstofficerwiggles

@darkangel4121

@discofern

@kavecika

@monako-jinn-stories

@ladykatakuri

@avathebestx

@theroguesully

@furyhellfire66

@carodealmeida

@ciramaris

@sprout-fics

@twinkofthedink

@dindjarin-mandalorian

@ulchabhangorm

@littlemisspascal

@sprout-fics

@twinkofthedink

@clonethirstingisreal

@dragonrider9905reads

@dragonrider9905

@crosshair-is-the-superior-clone

@totallyunidentified

@griffedeloup

@leotawrites

@helenaslost

77 notes · View notes

glorismorningstar · 9 months ago

Text

THE LION CHRONICLES

Pairings: girlfriend!Lute x f!reader, fatherfigure!Alastor x f!reader, Charlie x overprotective!Vaggie + f!bodyguard!reader, situationship!Carmilla Carmine x f!reader

Summary: Charlie is asked to attend a meeting with Heaven, and Vaggie asks Y/N to keep an eye on her. Begrudgingly, she agrees, but not without taking the necessary precautions. A dreaded yet hoped-for encounter occurs, which triggers unforgettable memories.

Warnings: daddy issues, canon-typical violence, Adam being Adam, brief lesbian smut, fluff, angst, grief, sadness, mentions of sex, WLW

A/N: I'm fully aware that the trailer was a major flop, but this story is purely self indulgent and has been in my head for so long that I need to get it out :)

| OPENING // PART 1 // PART 2 |

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

TWENTY-SEVEN YEARS LATER…

“So, what do you think?” Alastor asked as he turned off the TV. He had just shown us the commercial he'd made for the hotel, and while Charlie and Vaggie were off-put and disappointed, I had to hold back a snort of laughter.

“That was hysterical,” I laughed, resting my elbows on top of the backrest of the couch. “May I have a copy of that?”

“Y/N!” Vaggie barked.

“Right, right!” I cleared my throat. While this was one of the most entertaining things I'd seen in a long while - since that dipshit Vox was unable to put on anything good in the seven years that Alastor was gone, or even before that - it wasn't oriented to what we wanted to do for sinners, it did not once mention redemption or our ambition to help souls checking out into Heaven.

“I'm sorry, what the fuck was that?” Vaggie snapped.

“Uh, yeah, one note… Alastor…” Charlie hesitated, trying to find the words to criticize the commercial without aggravating Alastor, whose grin hadn't wasted a beat in growing strained. “I mean, first off, thank you so much for making this, seriously amazing! But, um, maybe the tone is a bit off.”

Alastor, tilting his head a little and furrowing his brows in his own fashion of a glare, was visibly offended, expression betraying his ever-present smile. I had always found his grin curious, ever since the day he and Rosie had rescued me, I wondered about his choice to smile permanently. A smile is a powerful tool, he'd say, it keeps your friends inspired, your enemies guessing, and assures that no matter what happens, you're the one in control.

“We want people to want to come here, but this makes it look… um…” she continued, attempting to word her sentence properly.

“Bad. The word you're looking for is bad.” Vaggie completed. While Sera had taught me to be polite, her brutal honesty was refreshing.

“Funny, I was going for hilarious!” Alastor said and tilted his head to the side, neck rolling with a crack.

“Agreed, but comedy isn't the purpose of the ad.” I said with a soft tilt of my head.

“It didn't say anything about how we're trying to save demons from the extermination, which is the whole fucking point.”

“Vaggie is right, Alastor. The commercial is to let sinners know we are trying to help them.” Said Charlie.

“Well, my dear, I haven't been active in Hell for quite some time and everyone remembers me from my radio show - the proper medium to express oneself,” he said, holding his finger up for emphasis, which made me chuckle, then I laced my fingers together and rested my chin on my conjoined hands. “But you insisted on this noisy picture box advertisement! So I had a little fun with it.”

His inability - and unwillingness - to hide his thinly veiled contempt for modern technology never failed to amuse me. I was among the oldest beings in creation, only younger than very few souls, but I had grown accustomed to television, cinema and social media. His insistence on radio broadcasts and their superiority was quite humorous.

“Oh, fun? You had a little fun with it?” Vaggie said, getting up from her seat. She was about to lose her patience, and I couldn't blame her. This was an important thing, for it to work out, it was vital that it was taken seriously by everyone involved. “This is not what we want to represent us! When you showed up here a week ago, you said you would help run this hotel, instead you're mocking us! No one is gonna come to a place that a powerful Overlord like you thinks is a waste of time.”

As if on cue, a pink gloved hand raised from the couch opposite the fireplace. I sighed and tilted my head to look at him, boredly smushing my cheek against my hand. “What?”

“If'n ya filming a commercial, can I suggest you take better advantage of the talented celebrity you have right here?” Angel Dust asked, four fingers pointing at himself.

“I don't know if you can, but you most certainly may not.” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose in exasperation. His views on sex were the polar opposite of mine. Heavenly standards had always discouraged giving in to such temptations, but that was one among the many ways in which I had rebelled. Nevertheless, for me sex had always been a way to express strong feelings of affection rather than just a simple exchange of bodily fluids. When I lived in Heaven, Lute and I had always made love with the purpose of worshiping and pleasuring each other, while Angel did so simply for the sake of reaching the climax, which I found immature and foolish.

“Angel, you're a porn star.” Vaggie pointed out with visible dismissal of his idea.

“A famous porn star!” He corrected. “I'll have the horniest sinners knocking these walls down to get in.”

“We're not filming a porn as a commercial.” Vaggie spoke, as if it wasn't obvious enough to the effeminate man.

“Why not?”

“Where do I begin? It's disgusting, it's unrealistic, it's immoral, and it makes little to no sense, among other things.” I listed out, counting each point on my fingers while I gazed at him with a grimace.

“No sense? Sex sells, don't it?” He said, rubbing his fingertips together. “I swear, if you film me going at it with Mr. Fancy Talk Creepy Voice here, you'd be rolling in participants willing to stay at this tacky hotel.”

The simple thought made me gag. Alastor's asexuality was to be respected, for his sake and for my own peace of mind. “Ha, ha! Never going to happen!”

“Angel, I appreciate you wanting to use your… special skills to, um… attract folks to the hotel, but I really don't want to exploit you! In that way.” Charlie winced, giving a polite but awkward smile to dismiss such a notion.

“Oh, please, baby, this body was made to be exploited,” he drawled and puffed his chest, making poses to highlight his sexual desirability. “I got the arms, I got the stamina, I got the legs, I got the lung capacity, ha, ha, I got the legs! The gag reflex, the holes, the chest fluff the everyone thinks are tits-”

His narcissistic rambling was interrupted by Charlie's ringtone, which made me breathe a sigh of relief and stop tugging on my ears. As she excused herself to take the phone call, I zoned out for a minute, tail curling around my hip as the fluffy tip twitched idly. I heard her say “dad”, which drew a soft smile from me. If only Lucifer had been there to support my rebellion then, maybe things might have been a little different. I hadn't seen him in ages. We used to get along fairly well, and when I needed secret meetings to try to make peace, he was my main contact. Despite our strong friendship, I knew he'd recognize me immediately if he saw me again, so I refrained from reaching out.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard Husk once again rejecting Angel's flirting. It really was annoying.

Husk and I had met through Alastor, as the poor guy was owned by the Overlord. We had more in common than I'd thought, including our feline traits, both physical and characteristic, and a mutual annoyance with Angel Dust. I felt bad for how Alastor treated him, I always believed it was unfair, but his rage was one of the most chilling, terrifying things one could ever witness, and I wasn't stupid enough to allow myself to be the object of his frustrations. It was already a miracle he was the closest thing to a father I'd ever have.

“Vaggie! Holy shit!”

“Pah!” I yelped, ears pulling back as Charlie's outburst startled me.

“Ah! What?”

“Get over here!”

Their cute relationship made a fond chuckle fall from my lips, watching with a small smile as Vaggie walked over behind the wall to talk to Charlie.

When I heard her mention a meeting with the leader of the exorcist army, my stomach dropped to my knees. Adam.

He was almost my brother-in-law, brought into my social circle by Lute. I didn't admire him like he liked to think everyone did, but I did respect him, for Lute's sake. It was important to her that I got along with her best friend, and I couldn't deny her such a thing.

♪ I can do this, somehow I know it

I'll get Heaven behind my plans

♪ Charlie, hold on

I could hear Charlie singing. She did always have a thing for singing songs at random times, a habit that straddled the line between endearing and entertaining, and annoying and irritating.

♪ There's just no way I could blow this

Not this once in a lifetime chance

♪It's just a meeting

Ah, yes, just a meeting, I thought with a sigh. The poor girl was about to go to her first meeting with Adam of all people. It was like taking her driver's test in a bus.

♪ To change their minds, to touch their hearts

Or whatever angels have

I frowned a little at the prejudice. Angels do so have hearts. It was the hypocrisy that bugged me.

♪ This could be bad...

♪ Cheer up, Vaggie

This could be swell

Something tells me that today is gonna be a happy day in Hell

♪ Okay, but just don't sing to them

Ah, the famous last words. Charlie was already out the door before Vaggie could even finish the sentence, strutting around through Hell as if it were the land of cupcakes and rainbows.

♪ That bitch is halfway down the street

♪ Is she-?

♪ Oh, she's dancing

♪ Ugh, no!

I sighed and leaned against the door frame, tail curling as I watched the princess walking down the street. “Y/N, you should accompany her to the meeting. Say you're the bodyguard or something.”

“Ha, ha, yeah, right.” I laughed with pure sarcasm. The simple idea of being in the same room as someone with divine ordainment after almost three decades made my head spin with anxiety.

“Fine, then at least keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn't run into some weirdass on the way.” Vaggie proposed. While it bordered on stalking, it was true that Charlie could be a bit too carefree, and it was the least I could do to help.

“Fine.” I groaned, pulling on the hood of my cloak, and followed her path down the street, dodging disgusting views and unpleasant sinners on the way. The fact that I'd be hearing Adam's voice after this long was nerve-wracking, to say the least. I wouldn't be speaking to him, obviously, if it were so I would have outright fainted, but being in a one mile radius of any personality from the right side of the pearly gates made my lungs constrict.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

As I stood in front of the tall golden tower of Heaven's embassy, a flurry of edgy butterflies swarmed in my stomach. I inhaled deeply through my nose and slowly exhaled through my mouth, then hurried inside after Charlie before the door could close, slipping in the shadows to keep her from seeing me.

When she signed the paper and entered the meeting room, I finally relaxed and laid on one of the couches in the deserted lobby, pulling my hood down and sighing as I stared at the ceiling. I could hear Adam's boisterous laugh, muffled by the walls, and my stomach did a backflip. I buried my face in my hands and took a few deep breaths, trying to get my shit together.

“You think I'd come down there? No, I mean, I love the vibe. Totally, love your tunes. Pretty fuckin’ hardcore, don't get me wrong, but it's such a bummer, man. Everything down there is so bleugh, heh… ew.” His shenanigans never failed to make me roll my eyes. I never once agreed with him on anything, barely even on the smallest of dilemmas, like which milkshake flavor was the best. But there was an unspoken agreement between us to put up with each other's shit, motivated by our closeness with Lute.

My gaze then flickered around the room, which hadn't changed in twenty-seven years. I could remember when I'd first been here to meet with Lucifer in secret to attempt to stop the exterminations. It all felt like it was eons ago, when in reality it hadn't even been half a century, a microscopic fraction to my long life as a Seraphim.

“Adam, sir… Mr. Adam, sir-”

“Call me Dickmaster.”

A ghost of a laugh fell from my lips at the nickname. It had been so long since I'd heard him and his narcissistic ramblings about his sexual prowess. Word in Heaven and outside was that he was just as good as he purported, which I didn't find too hard to believe, as he was neither an unattractive nor an inexperienced man.

“It's the solution to our biggest problem!”

“Herpes! Yeah, that's a bitch.”

“No, our other biggest problem!”

“Oh, um… ugly people? Math? Global warming! No, wait, that's Earth's problem. When you take her out for the fifth time and she still expects you to pay the check, and you're like, hey, I thought you wanted equality!”

“No! Our shared problem of overpopulation in Hell.”

“Oh! Well, that's not a problem! We've got that covered! Lute, how many demons-”

Lute?

Lute was here?

I scrambled to the door and pressed my ear up against it, listening for any sign of her, her voice, her footsteps, her auditory mannerisms. Anything.

“Got a good 275 this year, sir.”

I rested my hand against the door and sniffed, breathing out a shaky, broken sigh as I slumped into a ball on the floor, leaning my ear against the cold surface. Hearing the ethereal sound of her voice after three decades felt like reaching an oasis after having wandered the desert, a ray of sunlight in a dark tunnel. My eyes flooded with tears as I let out silent sobs, covering my mouth with my hand as I kept listening for her voice, in desperate need of getting whatever glimpse of her I could.

I wondered what she thought of me now, so long after I disappeared with no trace. I could barely even imagine the pain she must have gone through - or was still going through - if she thought I was dead… or worse, if she thought I abandoned her. If she thought I didn't love her and Emily and Sera anymore, and decided I'd live a better life elsewhere. The thought of her hating me made me choke a sob, the hearing range too short for the emotions I wanted to show.

For fuck's sake, she was the love of my life. Why the fuck didn't I go in as the bodyguard? What was going through my head when Charlie said she'd be meeting Adam? You can't have Adam without Lute, how stupid could I have been to not think of that? I missed her face so much… her golden, intelligent eyes, her pretty little nose, her mischievous smirk, her thick, fluttering eyelashes… God, how I loved her face…

“They're not the same. They had their chance, and they earned damnation.”

I didn't even care what she was saying right now, I just needed to hear her.

“...but everyone makes mistakes.”

“Angels don't make mistakes.”

“You really think that?”

“I know that.”

I'd heard that before.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

With a last harsh suck to her clit, her thighs clamped around my head and she cried out my name, squirming and mewling as my face remained buried in the paradise between her legs. I lifted my head to meet her eyes and licked my lips clean of her sweet juices while her hand lingered on my hair, grip on my locks loosening as her chest heaved with the exertion. Giving her an affectionate smile, I shifted to get up and grab something to clean her, but she stopped me before I could do so. “Stay.”

I smiled at her and leaned my head on her thigh, planting the occasional kiss on her soft skin. “I love the way you taste.”

“You say that every time you go down on me.” She giggled, carding her fingers through my hair.

“And I'll keep saying it over and over, my love.” I smiled, resting my forehead on the soft flesh of her thigh and closing my eyes.

I heard her let out a quiet chuckle as her hand kept stroking my hair, head falling back against her pillow as she slowly regained her breath. Everything about her mesmerized me. Being with Lute felt more right than being with any man in this universe. The way she tasted, the way she smelled, the way she looked, the noises she made, they all made me fall in love with her more with each encounter. My thoughts wandered to her military training and the extermination. Even putting aside the betrayal of Sera making such a decision, with the way Lute spoke about enrolling in the army, I'd never have peace of mind. Heaven was a lie, indeed. I wanted to stop it so badly, to protect Emily from such knowledge, to find a solution different from violence, to take some weight off Sera's shoulders, to save Lute's life.

I shook such thoughts out of my head and crawled up to lie flat on top of her, giving her a tender kiss on the lips and resting my forehead on hers. She wrapped her legs around my waist, locking her ankles on my lower back, and said, “What's with the frown, princess?”

I sighed and looked at the helmet on her nightstand, then back into her eyes. “Do you think it's possible to make peace with Hell?”

“What?” She asked with something between a scoff and a laugh. “Of course not. They had their chance to be good, and look at what they did instead.”

“And that was a mistake,” I conceded, tenderly brushing the hair out of her eyes. The last thing I wanted to do was make this boil over into an argument, so I kept my tone soft and gentle. “But there's no one that doesn't make mistakes.”

“Angels don't make mistakes, love.” She replied.

“Strongly disagree.” I sighed, looking to the side again with a small frown. To name a few, Sera chose to approve the extermination and put Adam, of all people, in charge. It was true that he was sort of an in-law to me, and the best that could be said of our relationship was that we had mutual respect, but he was self-absorbed, reckless and obnoxious, a testosterone-fueled wind-up soldier that marched wherever his sex-clouded brain told him to. And to think that poor Emily still believed she lived in this perfect, unbiased realm of bliss.

“Hey,” Lute cooed, taking my chin in between her fingertips and tipping it to meet her eyes. “What Sera did was for your own good. She just wants to protect you, and so do I.”

She then grabbed my cheeks and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. The gesture made me smile a bit. I knew she wanted my wellbeing, but if only there was a way to do so that wasn't so violent…

“Come on, no more pouting,” she said, nuzzling our noses together. “What do you say we cuddle a bit and tomorrow we go out for ice cream?”

“Hmm… sounds fun. Thank you.” I mumbled and trailed a few soft kisses across her shoulder, then rested my head on her chest and closed my eyes, reveling in her presence.

My gaze once again fell on her exorcist's helmet. Those rotten black horns, striped with white and curled at the tips, the × over the right eye and that ragged smile… I loathed everything about it. The fear of losing her to this was too big. I'd do whatever it took to spare her and my family from this barbarity.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The moment Adam opened the door, the color dissipated from my skin.

He was holding Charlie by the wrist - thankfully she had her back to me - and beside him was Lute.

Lute, in that familiar gray uniform and that horrible mask.

Her eyes met mine for a split second and I felt the wind being knocked out of me when she squinted and her body language shifted ever so slightly, which made me gasp and pull my hood back on, ears pulling back in fear and tail taking cover between my legs, and in the time she simply blinked, I ran away on all fours as fast as my legs could carry me, not stopping until I reached the hotel. My legs felt like they could crumble any second, my lungs screaming for breath and my throat begging for water, but I wouldn't stop until I was far away from the embassy.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

As night befell the Pentagram, I laid on my bed and stared out the window in deep thought about the day's events. I opened the drawer in my nightstand and grabbed a picture, gazing at it fondly. It was me and Lute on date night, slow dancing to some cheesy love song we liked. I had an arm around her while my free hand held hers as she looked at me with heart-shaped eyes.

I wondered if she'd still look at me that way now, if she didn't hate me for disappearing without a message or note or any information on where I'd gone beforehand. A part of me didn't want to know the answer.

My phone dinged with a new notification, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Fuck.”

Hey corazón <3

21:14

You coming over tonight?

21:14

Shit, Carmilla. When my brain registered Lute's presence earlier today, everyone else was dead to me. Thankfully, I was grounded back to reality when I got back to the hotel, but I couldn't just ditch Carmilla for a person I may or may not see ever again. Then again, I couldn't abandon Lute, the woman I loved with all my heart and soul for years on end, for a mere carnal relationship.

I sighed and texted back my response,

Sorry babe, I'm not in the mood tonight :(

21:17

Good night

21:18

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel lute x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin lute #hazbin vaggie #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel charlie x reader #charlie morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel carmilla #carmilla carmine #carmilla x reader #carmilla carmine x reader #lute x reader #the lion chronicles

298 notes · View notes

mononijikayu · 6 months ago

Text

“i blinked and suddenly, i had a valentine— gojo satoru.

Your heart swelled with tenderness that you’ve never felt before. And yet all at once, that unescapable touch of sadness at the thought of his departure. You couldn’t help but stare at his beautiful face. That tender face, that laughing face. Gojo Satoru was the wonder of your world. In his existence, in his every breath, his every touch, his every grin — you couldn’t help but feel like life was anything else but worth living.

GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

LISTEN: valentine by laufey

NOTE: when i listened to laufey, i wondered about satoru a lot. i think its because satoru is just very love coded, you know? he's a romantic at heart. he's gentle too. also, he definitely loves chara-bentos. genmei (you) really make the best of it. he requests digimon a lot, but you're still working on it!!! anyway, enjoy this!!! i love you~

masterlist

u s and t h e m

2008

YOU WERE EXCITED TO HAVE SOME SLEEP AFTER THIS. With a smile, you approached your apartment, juggling grocery bags in both hands. The weight of the bags felt lighter than the relief you felt after finally securing a leave from your sorcerer duties.

Gakuganji had been quite adamant about keeping you around, insisting on your presence for various missions. Yet, you were exhausted, both physically and mentally. The constant strain of back-to-back missions had left you yearning for rest and proper sleep.

When you received the news that your leave had been approved, a wave of immense relief and joy washed over you. It was as if a heavy burden had been lifted off your shoulders. The thought of having a break, a chance to breathe and recharge, filled you with happiness.

However, as you entered your apartment, the excitement was briefly tempered by the realization that your pantry and fridge were nearly empty. The thought of enjoying a peaceful day off without any food was disheartening, so you quickly decided to go out and buy some groceries.

Now, with bags filled with fresh ingredients and your favorite snacks, including the much-anticipated coffee jelly, you couldn't wait to relax and enjoy the evening. The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over your own quaint neighborhood.

The sky was painted with hues of orange and pink, creating a serene backdrop as you walked towards your apartment. The gentle breeze carried the sounds of children playing in the distance and the faint hum of traffic, adding to the peaceful ambiance.

As you neared your stairs, you paused, noticing a familiar figure slumped against the railing. The sight of the usually energetic and lively Satoru Gojo looking so worn out tugged at your heart. His head was resting against the railing, and he seemed to be half-asleep. Your brows furrowed in confusion and surprise. Why was he here all of a sudden? How did he even know where you lived? You’ve always left that from records.

"Gojo–kun?" you called softly, as you patted his shoulder. He stirred, blinking slowly, his cerulean eyes unfocused as he tried to wake up. “Are you okay? What are you doing here?”

"Hey, senpai." he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Sorry…. I didn't mean to fall asleep."

You could only frown, realizing how tired he looks. You can only think he’s been doing a lot of missions again. You’d already told everyone, especially Yaga–sensei, that the kids should be resting still. It’s only been a few months since the failure of their mission, since Gojo Satoru’s awakening. And since then, none had listened to your advice.

From what you heard, the missions they’d been sent on lately had been solo missions and one after another, they barely had any time to themselves. You purse your lips. They shouldn’t have to do this. Not when there were others there too. You could feel guilt pulse into you, for taking a break. It’s only a few days at most. But you couldn’t help but wonder what those three days could do to these kids. They’re getting overworked.

"You've been on too many missions lately, haven’t you?" you asked, concern evident in your voice as you looked at Satoru, who was now seated on the couch, still wearing the exhaustion from his recent endeavors.

"Yeah." he admitted with a weary sigh, his cerulean eyes meeting yours. "It's been non-stop. But passing on missions right now... I don't think that's a good idea."

You sat down beside him, feeling a mix of empathy and worry. "Why not? You need rest, Gojo–kun. Geto–kun’s been shouldering cases too, hasn't he? Surely there's someone else who can take over some of your workload."

“How come you’re formal with me again?” He pouts at you, taking you aback. “I thought I told you to just call me Satoru?”

“You’re my kouhai, and I am your senpai. There’s still degrees of respect—”

“I don’t care.” He retorts back at you, like the brat that he is. “Just call me Satoru, senpai. Please.”

It was evident in the desperation flickering in his bright blue eyes, the glasses perched slightly askew on his nose. Your own gaze, sharp and unwavering, met his own with understanding.

In the years you had known Gojo Satoru, you had sensed the weight he carried—names like Zenin and Gojo, identities tied to clans and powers, but never fully embracing him as an individual. He had yearned to be recognized for himself, as Satoru, not just as a bearer of lineage and strength.

"You're so talkative for someone who's sleepy, Satoru," you remarked with a sigh, breaking the thoughtful silence between you.

His response was a smile tinged with relief, a small spark of joy amidst weariness. "I always feel good when I'm with you, senpai," he confessed sincerely.

"Don't say it like that," you replied, feeling a rush of warmth to your cheeks at his words. You shook off the embarrassment with a playful scoff. "You're too much, aren't you?"

"Only for you, senpai!" he declared with a mischievous grin, his eyes crinkling with affection.

You shake your head at him. “Did you just come here from a mission? Where’s Geto-kun? I thought I told you to take a break?”

Satoru nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Suguru's been handling a mission by himself, again. Haibara and Nanami are already swamped with their duties. The higher-ups are stretched thin as it is. I doubt they’ll give us time to rest.”

You frowned, “They gave me time to rest.”

“I don’t think they’d go against a special–grade Zenin, senpai.” He points it out to you. “‘sides, I doubt that’s lasting long. You’re too valuable in the field.”

You sighed in resignation. “I suppose you’re right. But you can’t keep going on like this. You’re sleeping in unknown places like this. It’s unhealthy.”

He looked at you gratefully, appreciative of your concern. "I know," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "But it’s what there is. Besides, are you really going to doubt my six-eyes right now, senpai? No random bum is gonna defeat me.”

You reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “Be that as it may be, I don’t think that you should be out here all by yourself.”

He watches you as you take out your keys. “You really do live here, huh?”

You turned to him. “You were just guessing?”

“Well, not really but I found you!” His grin annoyed you for a moment.

Your eyes narrow as you sighed. "Come on, let's get you inside."

He nodded, still groggy from fatigue, and followed you into your apartment. The weight of his exhaustion seemed to lift slightly as he stepped across the threshold. Satoru's bright blue eyes scanned the cozy interior, taking in every detail.

The living room welcomed him with its warm ambiance—soft, inviting cushions adorned the couch, bathed in the gentle glow of warm lighting. The faint scent of fresh flowers lingered in the air, adding a touch of tranquility to the space.

It felt like a sanctuary, a stark contrast to the sterile and regimented environment of the Jujutsu High dorms where practicality often overshadowed comfort. Here, in your apartment, there was a sense of homeliness that resonated deeply with Satoru.

The walls, adorned with personal touches and memories, spoke of a life lived beyond the battlefield of sorcery. Pictures upon pictures of you and two young women. He could only surmise that it was your friends from Kyoto Jujutsu High. It added a nice touch. But he always gets curious about it all. Still, he doesn't want to put you on the spot.

As he took in the aroma of vanilla essence, he could feel at ease. There was no need for Infinity in this proximity. He was with you. And when he's with you, he's free to be him. He's free to be Satoru. And with you, in this place, he could pretend and set aside the weight of his responsibilities of the strongest far away.

Satoru paused for a moment, taking it all in with a mix of gratitude and relief. He turned to you, a soft smile playing on his lips despite the weariness etched into his features. "Thanks for letting me crash here, senpai." he said, his voice tinged with genuine appreciation.

You returned his smile, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "You're welcome. But next time, please call. I thought were dead, laying outside like that."

"But surprises are way more fun, don't you think?"

You sighed. "It's not fun for me, Satoru. I was going to enjoy my coffee jelly in my peace."

“You really have a nice place.” He says as he starts moving around the pillows to the side. “I really didn’t think that this sketchy place had anything to offer.

“I know the owner, she gave me a discount.”

He looks at you with a raised brow. “Why does a Zenin like you with so much money want a discount?”

“None of your business,” you retorted, setting the grocery bags down on the counter with a soft thud. As you walked over to where Satoru lay sprawled out on the couch, you couldn't help but observe him for a moment, taking in the weariness etched into his features.

“How did you really find my place?” you asked, curiosity tinging your voice.

Satoru gave you a lazy grin, his bright blue eyes twinkling mischievously. “The Six Eyes,” he replied simply, as if it explained everything.

You sighed, shaking your head in mock exasperation. “You’re so...”

“Charming?” he interjected, his grin widening.

“Infuriating,” you finished, though there was a hint of fondness in your tone.

You leaned closer, studying his expression. “Do you have a headache?” you asked, concern evident in your voice.

He nodded, his weariness becoming more pronounced. “A little.”

“And by a little, you mean a lot, hm?” you teased gently, knowing well the toll his abilities could take on him.

“It’s not easy trying to narrow down one area, figuring that area out with just your smell in the whole of Nakagyō-ku, you know!” he protested, half-serious, half-playful.

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “That sounds like something a stalker would say.”

“Huh!? I’m not a stalker!” Satoru exclaimed, feigning offense.

“Also something a stalker would say,” you teased, unable to resist.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Alright, alright, I plead guilty to having heightened senses,” he admitted with a playful glint in his eye.

You chuckled, shaking your head affectionately. “You're incorrigible, Satoru.”

“Only for you, senpai,” he replied with a wink, his playful demeanor melting into a genuine smile.

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “Are you hungry? I was just about to prepare dinner.”

“Ah, that would be great, senpai! I’m starving, y’know?” Satoru replied eagerly, sitting up a bit more on the couch, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten in anticipation of a meal.

You chuckled softly at his enthusiasm. “Alright then, let’s get you fed,” you said warmly, turning towards the kitchen with a sense of purpose.

As you began to gather ingredients and pots, the comforting routine of cooking helped ease the tension that often lingered from Satoru’s exhausting missions. You moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, preparing a meal that you knew would both satisfy his hunger and lift his spirits. The rhythmic sounds of chopping vegetables and sizzling in the pan filled the air, creating a soothing background to your conversation.

“So, any exciting stories from your latest mission?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at Satoru as you worked.

He leaned back on the couch, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. “Oh, you know, the usual—exorcizing curses, saving innocents, the usual hero stuff,” he replied with a hint of amusement in his voice. But then he falters for a moment. “Though, the paper work is going to be a pain!”

You chuckled softly. “You make the physical work so easy.” you remarked, turning back to stir the simmering sauce.

“Well, it’s not always a walk in the park at all.” he admitted with a soft sigh. “But…. knowing someone who can be kind to me about it is with me….about everything. It’s good.”

You grinned. “Didn’t take you to be so emotional about that, Satoru.”

He pouts deeply. “Only you can see it like this, senpai.”

You smiled to yourself, grateful that you could provide him with this small comfort. As the aroma of the cooking food filled the kitchen, you felt a sense of contentment settle over you both—a moment of peace amidst the chaos of their lives as sorcerers.

As you moved around the kitchen, preparing dinner with practiced ease, Satoru couldn't help but watch you with a soft smile playing on his lips. The way you effortlessly navigated the space, your movements graceful and purposeful, captivated him. Each chop of the vegetables, each stir of the simmering pot, seemed like a dance orchestrated by someone who knew the kitchen intimately.

The comforting aroma of food slowly filled the air, mingling with the soft evening light filtering through the windows. Satoru leaned back on the couch, his gaze fixed on you with a warmth that bloomed in his chest. It wasn't just the meal you were preparing—it was the care and thoughtfulness behind it that touched him deeply.

In that moment, amidst the clinking of utensils and the gentle hum of the stove, Satoru realized how fond he had become of you. It wasn't just your strength as a sorcerer or your wisdom as a senpai that drew him in—it was the way you effortlessly made a house into a home, a sanctuary where he could find solace and peace.

"You know," he began, his voice soft yet filled with sincerity, "I think you're spoiling me, senpai."

You turned towards him, a playful glint in your eye as you stirred the pot. "Oh, am I?" you teased gently, your smile warm and inviting.

Satoru chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Maybe a little," he admitted, his gaze lingering on you with unabashed admiration.

As you placed the dishes on the table, the spread before him elicited a delighted grin from Satoru. "This looks amazing, senpai," he praised, his eyes lighting up with genuine appreciation.

You sat down across from him, sharing the meal together in comfortable silence, punctuated by occasional laughter and shared stories. The simple act of enjoying a home-cooked meal with you felt like a cherished moment, a testament to the bond that had grown between you.

And as the evening unfolded, wrapped in the warmth of good food and even better company, Gojo Satoru knew one thing for certain—he was incredibly lucky to have found not just a senpai, but someone who had captured his heart in ways he never expected.

Valentine's Day, 2008, he thought.

This is when it all started for him and you.

History can only get better with time.

2011

YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO. A year had passed since you married Satoru, and each day felt like a precious gift wrapped in tender moments and quiet smiles. It was something you never imagined for yourself, when you lived in Zenin manor. You never saw a future beyond what you were forced to have then. But here you are, with him, free and content. And it meant the world to you.

He never asked for much from you, always mindful not to overwhelm you with his larger-than-life presence. From the moment he slipped the ring onto your finger, he made it his mission to take care of you, to save you in ways big and small.

Satoru was a good husband—attentive, kind, and always putting your needs first. In the mornings, he would tiptoe around the apartment, making sure not to wake you as he prepared breakfast.

You often woke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sight of a beautifully set table, complete with a little note from Satoru that read, "Good morning, wife. Have a great day!"

He found joy in the smallest things, like holding your hand during walks in the park or surprising you with your favorite flowers just because he felt like it. He had an uncanny ability to make you laugh, whether through his goofy antics or his playful teasing. And every night, without fail, he would wrap his arms around you, whispering sweet nothings as you drifted off to sleep.

Satoru's love was a constant, steady presence, like a warm blanket on a cold night. He was always there, ready to catch you when you stumbled, to listen when you needed to talk, and to simply be there when words weren't necessary. His blue eyes, usually so sharp and intense, softened whenever he looked at you, filled with a warmth that made your heart flutter.

Despite his strength and the immense responsibilities he carried as a sorcerer, Satoru never let it overshadow the gentle, caring man he was with you. He made you feel safe, cherished, and above all, loved. In these walls that build your home, you never once felt out of place. You just instantly felt it. You felt like you belonged here. You felt like you had a place in this world, a purpose to live — because of him.

You don’t know if you were in love with him or if you feel like a wife should feel for one’s husband. But you knew you cared deeply for him. You knew that you wanted only the best for him.

And you want to be able to give it to him. You wanted to do everything in your power to see him smile, to protect his smile. You wanted to make Gojo Satoru feel like he has somewhere he can feel warmth in his humanity.

As your first Valentine's day approached, you found yourself wanting to show him just how much he meant to you. You wanted to thank him for all the ways he cared for you, for the endless patience and unwavering support he offered to you. So in that morning, you woke up early, determined to see him off on his mission. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft glow through the curtains.

Satoru was already getting ready, moving quietly around the bedroom. His movements were graceful, almost silent, as he slipped into his uniform. He glanced at you with surprise when he saw you awake, propped up on one elbow, watching him with sleepy eyes.

"What are you doing up so early?" he asked, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "You should go back to bed."

You shook your head, blushing slightly as you held out a carefully packed lunch bag. The pink bento box was wrapped neatly in a patterned cloth, a small handwritten note peeking out from underneath. Satoru’s vibrant blue stared at what you were holding, blinking – as though he could not believe what you were holding.

He knows what it is, it's clear to see. It’s like then, in those high–school dramas, where the woman would make the person she cared deeply for a bento, with those cute character designs. Silently, he hoped that it was a digimon–chara bento. He hoped it was Metalgreymon or maybe Skullgreymon.

"I wanted to see you off…." you said softly, your cheeks tinged with pink. “Is that….is that not what you want?”

“N–no, that’s not it.” He responds almost immediately, rubbing the back of his head. He looked shy by what you said, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “It’s just… I didn’t expect you’d be up this early, least of all for me. And doing this bento for me…”

“I–I wanted to!” You tell him, the blush on your face extending to your ears. “I… I don’t know how long you’ll be gone, but I… I wanted to show my appreciation… It’s Valentine's Day, you see…”

Satoru's eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and gratitude as he looked at the lunch bag from your hands. His long fingers brushed against yours, sending a warm shiver up your spine.

"You made this for me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to break the delicate moment.

You nodded, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "Yes. I wanted to make sure you had something good to eat. You work so hard, Satoru. You deserve it."

Satoru’s eyes softened as he took in your words, his heart swelling with affection. He reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your flushed cheeks.

“You’re too good to me, y’know?” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “Thank you. This means more to me than you know.”

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his own in a tender gaze. “You work so hard, Satoru. And all at once, you do well in taking care of me too… I just want to make sure you’re taken care of, even when you’re out there.”

He pulled you into another hug, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go. “You take care of me in ways I can’t even begin to explain. I should be the one thanking you, darling,” he murmured against your hair. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

He smiled, his eyes shining with a love so pure it made your heart skip a beat. “You flatter me.”

“It’s not just empty flattery… it’s from the heart, y’know?”

“I do know.” You smiled gently at him.

“I promise to come back to you as soon as I can, darling.” he said, his voice steady and reassuring. “And when I do, we'll celebrate properly.”

You leaned up and kissed his cheek softly, pouring all your emotions into that single gesture. You didn’t know what compelled you to do that. But at that moment, it felt appropriate.

It felt like something that you wanted to give him. It was at that moment, an earned gift. After all he had done for you, it was a thankful gentleness. You tried to be as tender as the wind when it brushed against his own cheek.

Satoru froze, stunned at what just happened. He looked at you, unmoving. In that moment, self-awareness brushed through you, and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"I–I’m sorry," you stammered, stepping back slightly. "I didn’t mean to—"

He cut you off by pulling you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you securely. "Don’t apologize," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "That was... perfect."

You felt his warmth envelop you, and you relaxed into his hold, your heart racing. "I just wanted to show you how much you mean to me," you admitted softly, your voice barely audible.

Satoru pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. "You have no idea how much that means to me, darling." he said, his gaze intense and filled with affection. "You always know how to make me feel special."

Your blush deepened, but you smiled up at him, feeling a surge of love and gratitude. "You deserve it, Satoru. You deserve all the love and appreciation in the world."

“So do you.” He says, his face scarlet as he smiles at you. “You always will, darling.”

“I’ll hold you to that promise, Satoru.” you whispered against his ear. “Be safe for me, hm?”

Satoru maneuvered his face, his forehead resting against yours. “Take care of yourself while I’m gone, okay?” he said, his voice full of tender affection. “I’ll be counting down the moments until I’m back in your arms.”

You nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. “I’ll be waiting for you. Like I always am.”

With one last lingering look, Your husband took the bento from your arms and smiled. You returned it just as brightly. He turned to leave, but he stopped. Your husband lets himself glance back at you with a look that speaks volumes. No one else would have him like this. Only you. He would never let anyone else have this moment.

As he walked out the door, you could only think about looking forward to seeing him come home. Looking forward to having him in your arms, to enjoy a meal together, to laugh together.

You returned to your shared bedroom and smiled as you saw the lilac paper laying on the lamp table. You take the paper in hand and clutched it close to your heart. You take a moment before you read the words again.

"Think of me while I’m gone.”

You sighed, smiling to yourself once more.

You had some things to think over this weekend.

2015

HE COULDN'T DESCRIBE HIS LOVE FOR YOU. It has only been two months since you gave Gojo Satoru the best gift in the world: your little boy, Gojo Satoshi. The cute little boy who looked ever so beautiful, identical to his father, was his beloved, as much as you. And he could not get enough of him. The love that filled his heart seemed to expand with every smile, every coo, and every moment spent with his precious family.

The days had been tiring, filled with the demands of taking care of a newborn, the other children, and maintaining the household while Satoru was away on missions. Despite the exhaustion, you cherished every moment with your family. There was a quiet joy in the simple, everyday moments – the soft giggles of Satoshi, the curious questions from Megumi, and the boundless energy of Tsumiki.

Satoru, on the other hand, felt a profound sense of gratitude and responsibility. Nothing, he thought, would ever be enough to truly repay your love, affection, and the sacrifices you made for him. He was determined to be the best husband and father he could be, to ensure that you felt cherished and supported.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you found yourself sitting in the nursery, gently rocking Satoshi in your arms. His tiny fingers clutched at your shirt, his eyes heavy with sleep. You hummed a lullaby softly, feeling a profound sense of peace despite the weariness tugging at your bones.

The door creaked open, and Satoru stepped in, his presence immediately bringing a warmth to the room. He had returned from yet another mission, looking both relieved and concerned. His eyes softened as they landed on you and Satoshi.

"How are my favorite people doing?" he asked quietly, moving to sit beside you.

"Better now that you're home," you replied, offering him a tired but genuine smile.

He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. "You look exhausted, darling. Have you been getting any rest?"

You sighed, shaking your head slightly. "It's been a bit chaotic, but it's worth it."

Satoru leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "You do so much for us. I wish I could be here more to help."

"You’re here now, and that’s what matters, my love." you said softly, your heart swelling with love for the man who always put his family first.

Suddenly, Satoshi stirred in your arms, letting out a small cry. You started to get up, but Satoru placed a hand on your shoulder. "I’ve got him, don’t get up." he said, taking the baby from your arms with practiced ease.

“You sure? You’re tired too, my love.”

"One hundred percent. Now, go back to sleep." he whispered, his voice tender and soothing. "I'll take care of him."

You nodded, too tired to protest, and watched as he leaned in to kiss your cheek. His touch was warm and reassuring. It always was something so wondrous, when he touches you.

He was ever so gentle, but firm to express its reality. Each and every touch, it was that repetitive, silent promise that he would always be there for you. And you were so happy, so lucky — to have that. You closed your eyes slowly, smiling against the sheets.

Satoru left the room quietly, making his way to Satoshi's room. He sat down on the rocking chair and tenderly took him to be cradled in the bounty of loving arms. He started humming little tunes that Satoshi had loved. Recently, he loved the melody of Hey Jude.

Satoru loved playing that song on your record player. But he thinks that there was no need for the record player. The smile creeping through your son’s lips was enough to tell Satoru that there was no need. His father’s humming was better.

As he rocked Satoshi back to sleep, Satoru’s thoughts were filled with a profound sense of purpose and love. He wanted to be a good father, a good husband. He wanted to create a world where you and the children felt loved and safe.

Satoru gazed down at Satoshi, the baby’s delicate features illuminated by the soft glow of the nursery lamp. The tiny rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, the way his fingers occasionally twitches in his sleep—it all filled Satoru with a deep, unwavering resolve.

“I’ll do everything I can to protect you, little dawn.” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “To protect all of you, your papa will do anything and everything.”

His mind wandered to the future, to the life he wanted to build for his family. He envisioned laughter filling the rooms of your home, the sound of Satoshi’s giggles blending with the playful banter of Megumi and Tsumiki. He imagined quiet, peaceful moments where he could simply hold you close, knowing that you were safe and content.

“My little dawn, you were such a gift. You always will be.” Satoru smiles tenderly. “You will always be the proof of mama and papa’s love. And we’ll love you forever. Big sister ‘miki' and big brother ‘gumi will all love you a lot too, hm? Always know that, little dawn.”

In that moment, as Satoshi's cries turned to soft murmurs and then silence, Satoru felt a deep sense of contentment. He looked back towards the bedroom where you slept.

Satoru knew that he would do everything in his power to make sure you never had to carry the weight of the world alone. Satoru looked down at his son, who was now gazing up at him with wide, curious eyes. He couldn't help but smile as he gently rocked Satoshi in his arms.

"What should I do to thank your mom for being everything in my life?" he asked softly, his voice Filled with affection, Satoru gazed down at Satoshi, cradling his tiny body against his chest. “It’s going to be Valentine’s Day soon, little dawn. What do you think Papa should do for Mama?”

Satoshi let out a cute, nonsensical babble, his tiny hands reaching up towards Satoru's face. His fingers brushed against Satoru’s cheek, and he responded with a soft chuckle, pressing a gentle kiss to his son's forehead.

"You’re right," Satoru said, as if Satoshi had given the most profound advice. "I should take care of her just like she takes care of us."

Satoshi gurgled in response, his big eyes sparkling with curiosity and innocence. Satoru’s heart swelled with love for his little boy and for you, the woman who had given him such a precious gift. Satoru wonders what he had done to be this happy. To have such wonder in his life, to be able to love and live. He sighed in contentment.

Gently swaying with Satoshi in his arms, Satoru began to plan a special Valentine’s Day. He thought about all the little things you loved—flowers, quiet moments of affection, and simple gestures that spoke volumes. He wanted to create a day that would remind you of how cherished you were, not just as his partner, but as the heart of their family.

Later, as he tucked Satoshi back into his crib, he whispered, “We’ll make it a day she’ll never forget, won’t we, little dawn?”

Once Satoshi fell back asleep, Satoru carefully placed him back in his crib. With quiet determination, he set about cleaning the house and doing the laundry. He wanted you to wake up to a peaceful, tidy home, a small gesture to show his appreciation for all you did.

As the morning light filtered through the windows, he moved to the kitchen and started breakfast for Megumi and Tsumiki, who were already beginning to stir. The smell of pancakes and eggs soon filled the air, and he could hear the kids shuffling down the hallway.

Megumi entered the kitchen first, rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn. "Morning, Gojo-sensei," he mumbled sleepily.

Satoru chuckled, flipping a pancake with practiced ease. "Morning, Megumi. Did you sleep well?"

Megumi nodded, glancing over at the table set with plates and utensils. "Yeah. This looks good."

Tsumiki followed closely, her face lighting up at the sight of breakfast. "Wow, Satoru-san, this looks amazing!" She hopped up onto a chair, her eyes wide with excitement.

"Good morning, ‘miki!" Satoru greeted warmly, a smile brightening his face as Tsumiki bounded into the kitchen. "I thought we'd have a nice family breakfast today."

Tsumiki's eyes widened with delight, her cheeks flushed with happiness. "Ah, that’s so lovely, Satoru-san! Thank you so much for your hard work!" She hopped up onto a chair, her excitement palpable.

Megumi, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, glanced at his plate and then at Satoru. "Thank you….I guess." he mumbled, his voice slightly muffled.

Satoru chuckled, pouring some syrup over his pancakes. "You're welcome, Megumi. Now go on. Eat!" He gestured with a playful nudge, encouraging them both to tuck into the breakfast he had prepared.

As they ate, Satoru glanced between them with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "So, what do you two have planned for Valentine's Day?" he asked, genuinely curious about their intentions for the day dedicated to love and affection.

Megumi blushed slightly, looking down at his plate. "I... I wrote a card for Gen-san," he admitted shyly. “And….maybe…”

Satoru raised a brow. “Maybe what?”

“....a hug.”

“A hug?” Satoru starts to grin. “Well, you know that bear hugs are encouraged. I really think it would be a fantastic Valentine’s day gift!”

Tsumiki beamed, "Me too! I worked really hard on my card too. And the paper flowers that I made! I can't wait for Gen–san to see it!"

Satoru's heart swelled with pride. "Gen is going to love them, both of you. You know how much Gen appreciates the things you do."

As he finished breakfast with the kids, Satoru felt a swell of pride and love for his family. Sitting around the table together, sharing smiles and conversation, filled him with a deep sense of fulfillment.

Megumi and Tsumiki were growing up so fast, each with their own quirks and personalities, yet united in their affection for you, the person they saw as their mother. They made him proud every day, not just with their accomplishments, but with the way they cared for and appreciated you.

Watching them interact, seeing how they expressed their love for you in their own unique ways, warmed Satoru's heart. Megumi's quiet thoughtfulness and Tsumiki's bubbly enthusiasm were reflections of the love and happiness you nurtured in their lives. It was a joy to witness how they cherished you, and he couldn't help but feel blessed to have such a loving family.

They were his world, and he was determined to make sure they knew it every single day. The love and warmth in their home were palpable, a testament to the bond they shared.

Satoru knew, without a doubt, that this was what mattered most—being together, supporting each other, and creating moments of happiness and love. It was all you deserved, and that realization made Satoru's heart swell with gratitude and affection for the family he cherished beyond measure.

You woke up to the sun streaming brightly through the windows, a gentle warmth filling the room. Surprised by how rested you felt, you stretched leisurely in bed before deciding to start your day. As you made your way through your home, a sense of calm settled over you, a stark contrast to the usual morning rush.

Entering the kitchen, you were met with a heartwarming scene that made your heart swell with love. Satoru stood at the sink, a baby strap securely fastened around him, gently swaying to a soft melody as he sang to Satoshi. The little bundle of joy in his arms giggled happily, tiny hands reaching out to playfully grab at Satoru's nose. It was a sight that melted away any lingering stress or fatigue from the day before.

Satoru glanced over his shoulder as he noticed you, a warm smile spreading across his face. He carefully set aside the dish he had been cleaning and moved to greet you, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Good morning," he whispered softly, his voice filled with the tenderness reserved for moments like these.

You couldn't help but smile back, your heart swelling with love for the man who always managed to surprise you with his thoughtfulness. "Good morning," you replied, your voice laced with a mixture of awe and gratitude. "You've already done so much."

"I wanted to make sure you woke up to a peaceful morning," Satoru said, his gaze never leaving yours. "And now that you're here, we can enjoy it together."

You moved closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his chest. The rhythm of his heartbeat was steady and comforting, a reminder of the love that bound your family together.

"Thank you, ’toru." you murmured softly, your words carrying the weight of all the love and appreciation you felt.

Satoru pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his embrace tightening ever so slightly. "I love you, darling." he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth.

"I love you too, my love." you replied, your heart overflowing with happiness as you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, grateful for the peaceful moments that made life so beautiful. “So much. You didn’t have to do all this for me.”

He nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. "I want to. You deserve to have a break and enjoy today, darling. You deserve it."

You leaned in and kissed him again, feeling a rush of warmth and love. "I don't deserve you. You’re so good to me, my love." you murmured against his lips.

Satoru chuckled, his arms wrapping around you. "It's me who doesn't deserve you, darling." he said softly, his forehead resting against yours. “Happy Valentine’s day.”

"Happy Valentine's Day." you whispered, your heart beating for him just as strongly as it did on the day you first fell in love.

You wish that all the years would be like this too.

You wish that you could just be this happy everyday.

And you know, Satoru wishes the same thing too.

2018

YOU COULD ONLY SIGH. It had been two months since Suguru's passing, and the grief weighed heavily on Satoru's shoulders. The loss of his friend and colleague, coupled with the memories of the events that led to Suguru's death, haunted him deeply. In an attempt to cope, Satoru abandoned his iconic Ryomen Sukuna bandages, which once symbolized his strength and resolve. Now, they served as a painful reminder of the sacrifices and difficult choices he had made.

Instead, he turned to light-sensitive dark glasses, a practical solution that shielded his sensitive eyes from the harshness of light. You observed him with a mix of compassion and concern, knowing how much he had endured. The headaches that came with his new eyewear only added to his burden, and you were determined to find ways to alleviate his discomfort.

Each day, you saw him struggle, his once vibrant energy tempered by moments of pain and fatigue. It pained you deeply to witness his suffering, knowing there was little you could do to ease the emotional weight he carried. Yet, your presence and unwavering support offered him a steady anchor in turbulent times.

One day, you decided to visit Shoko with Satoshi in tow. The atmosphere in Shoko's office was calming, the shelves lined with medical journals and the faint scent of antiseptic in the air. Satoshi, ever curious and energetic, was happily occupied with the marbles Shoko had graciously given him, rolling them around on the floor with childlike delight.

While Satoshi played, you took a moment to discuss Satoru's condition with Shoko. Sitting across from her, you felt a wave of relief knowing you could confide in someone who understood the complexities of sorcerer life and its toll on those like Satoru. Shoko, with her gentle demeanor and sharp intellect, listened attentively as you described Satoru's struggles since Suguru's passing.

"He's been finding it difficult to wear the Ryomen bandages," you explained softly, glancing over at Satoshi, who was absorbed in arranging the marbles into a pattern. "They remind him too much of what he had to do. So, he's been using the light-sensitive dark glasses instead."

Shoko nodded understandingly, her expression thoughtful. "It's not uncommon for Satoru’s six–eyes to develop sensitivities after intense situations, missions.” she mused, her brown eyes flickering with concern. "The emotional and physical strain can manifest in various ways. And right now, it’s truly emotional. I think you just have to be patient with him.”

You sighed, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as you shared your worries with Shoko. "I know….but it hurts to see him suffer like this, Sho. The headaches have been growing more frequent." you admitted, your voice tinged with concern. "I'm worried about how much it's affecting him."

Shoko offered a reassuring smile."I know. But right now, you can give him some space. He’ll come around to it and realize that he needs to give himself something to stop the headaches.”

You pondered for a moment, your lips pursed in contemplation. "Do you think... there's some material that could help with his Six Eyes? Something that might alleviate the strain?" you asked Shoko, your voice carrying a mix of hope and uncertainty.

Shoko considered your question thoughtfully, her expression thoughtful as she leaned back in her chair. "It's possible," she began slowly, her gaze thoughtful. "We could explore materials that are less abrasive on his sensory abilities. Perhaps something with a softer weave or a special enchantment that filters out excessive stimuli."

Encouraged by Shoko's supportive words, you felt a renewed sense of determination. Her acknowledgment of your care for Satoru reassured you that your efforts were worthwhile.

"Thank you, Shoko," you said sincerely, feeling a sense of gratitude for her understanding and encouragement. "I'll do my best to make something that will really help him."

Shoko nodded with a reassuring smile. "Take your time, and don't hesitate to reach out if you need any assistance. I'm here to help in any way I can."

With a grateful nod, you bid farewell to Shoko and headed home, your mind already racing with ideas and plans. As you walked, Satoshi's cheerful babbling filled the air, a constant source of joy and motivation. You smiled warmly, his innocent excitement lifting your spirits even higher.

Suddenly, Satoshi stopped and pointed excitedly to a shop window. "Mama, here!" he exclaimed, his eyes shining with enthusiasm as he tugged at your hand. You chuckled at his excitement, bending down to his level to see what had caught his attention.

You peered into the shop window and saw a display of colorful fabrics and various sewing supplies. Some of the fabrics were vibrant and eye-catching, while others were soft and gentle to the touch. Satoshi's small hand pointed to a bright blue fabric with tiny stars scattered across it, his excitement palpable.

"Good eye, Satoshi!" you praised him, ruffling his hair affectionately. "That's a beautiful fabric."

He grinned up at you, his excitement undiminished. "Papa will like it!"

"Yes, I think he will." you agreed with a smile, feeling a surge of determination to create something special for Satoru using the fabric Satoshi had chosen. “Good job, Satoshi!”

He grinned. “Satoshi–kun, the best!”

You looked at your son, his excitement contagious, and smiled. "You're so smart," you said, giving him a gentle pat on the head.

Flash forward to Valentine's Day. Satoru had made it a tradition to take the day off so that the two of you could celebrate together, and this year was no exception. As you stirred awake in the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, you found Satoru in the kitchen, quietly preparing breakfast. His light-sensitive dark glasses were perched on his nose, a testament to the ongoing struggle with his heightened senses.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the scent of pancakes and strawberries, filling the air with a comforting warmth. Satoru turned to greet you with a soft smile as you entered the kitchen, his eyes tender as they met yours. Despite the exhaustion and challenges you both faced, his love and dedication never faltered.

"Good morning, darling," he murmured, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I thought we could start the day with a special breakfast."

You couldn't help but smile back, touched by his thoughtfulness. "Thank you, Satoru," you replied, your voice filled with love and gratitude. "It smells amazing."

As you sat down together at the table, the morning sun bathed the room in a golden glow, casting a warm hue over the cozy kitchen. The soft sounds of birds chirping outside added to the tranquil atmosphere, contrasting with the usual hustle and bustle of the day.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the tantalizing scent of pancakes filled the air, creating a comforting backdrop for your conversation. Everything about today was going to be good. You just know it. It always was, when you're with Satoru.

As you sipped your coffee, the warmth spreading through you, you began discussing your plans for Valentine's Day. Satoru listened attentively, his dark glasses reflecting the soft light from the window as he nodded in response to your suggestion.

"I was thinking," you started, setting your mug down gently on the table, "we should go to the zoo with Satoshi and Megumi, and then visit Tsumiki in the hospital."

Satoru considered your proposal, his expression thoughtful yet warm. "That sounds doable," he agreed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "And then dinner together later?"

You nodded, returning his smile. "Yes, dinner together sounds perfect," you replied softly. "It'll be a wonderful day."

He grinned warmly at your remark about the plan for the day. The anticipation of spending time together as a family and celebrating the occasion filled the room with an air of excitement and joy.

"That sounds like a grand plan," Satoru said with enthusiasm, his eyes sparkling behind his dark glasses.

You returned his grin, feeling a warmth spreading through your heart. "Speaking of something grand," you began, your voice filled with affection, "I also have a gift for you."

His curiosity piqued, Satoru raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "You didn't have to get me anything," he insisted gently.

"I wanted to," you replied softly, handing him a neatly wrapped box. "Open it."

Carefully, Satoru unwrapped the gift, his fingers moving deliberately over the wrapping paper. As he lifted the lid of the box, his eyes widened in genuine surprise and admiration. Inside lay an exquisitely crafted eye blindfold, made with intricate care and attention to detail.

"Satoru, I sewed it!" you explained, a hint of nervousness in your voice. "But Satoshi helped pick out the fabric, and Megumi tested it out. It's been blessed at the Mikoto Shrine by me. It's a family affair!"

He was speechless for a moment, his gaze fixed on the blindfold in his hands. The craftsmanship and thoughtfulness behind the gift touched him deeply. Slowly, he looked up at you, his cerulean eyes softening with deep emotion.

"You made this?" he asked, his voice filled with awe and gratitude.

You nodded, a shy smile playing on your lips as you looked up at him. "I wanted you to have something special," you admitted softly, your heart fluttering with warmth at his reaction.

"Besides, I know it's hard to use the bandages now. And I just... I want you to have something that drives away the pain and helps you with your headaches."

Satoru set the blindfold down gently, his expression softening as he pulled you into a tender embrace. His arms wrapped around you securely. He doesn't want to ever let you go. Not in his entire life.

"Thank you, darling." he murmured against your hair, his voice filled with heartfelt gratitude. "You always know how to make me feel special."

You leaned into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours. "You don’t have to thank me." you whispered, your voice tinged with emotion. "I love you. More than anything."

"I love you too, darling." Satoru replied softly, his words a gentle caress against your ear. His embrace tightened, as if he never wanted to let you go. “Always.”

You leaned into his embrace, your heart swelling with love for the man who meant everything to you. "Happy Valentine's Day, Satoru." you whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

His embrace tightened briefly, a silent reassurance of his love and gratitude. "Happy Valentine's Day, my darling." he replied softly, his voice tinged with affection. "I love you more than words can express."

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of your home and the love that filled the air, you knew that this Valentine's Day would be one to remember—a day where your love for each other blossomed even brighter.

You looked forward to next year’s Valentine’s day.

You wanted to have the same joy and happiness.

You prayed that you and Satoru would have that.

epilogue

The day at the zoo was perfect. You, Satoru, and Satoshi wandered through the exhibits, enjoying the beautiful weather and the excitement in Satoshi's eyes as he marveled at the animals. Satoru wore the blindfold you had made for him, and you couldn't help but think how good he looked in it. The fabric was soft and stylish, and it seemed to suit him perfectly.

As you approached the ocean exhibit, you spotted Megumi making his way towards you. He had stayed at the dorms for his lessons but had managed to follow and catch up with you. You waved at him enthusiastically.

"Megumi!" you called out, hurrying over to him.

Megumi smiled shyly and allowed you to hug him. Then he bent down to scoop up Satoshi, who squealed with delight at the sight of his older brother. "Nii-chan!"

When Megumi finally set Satoshi down, he looked up and saw Satoru standing there with open arms, a playful grin on his face. "Megumi-yannnn, aren't you going to give me a hug too?"

Megumi's cheeks turned a light shade of pink, and he tried to hide in his oversized uniform. He started laughing, his eyes crinkling with genuine amusement. "Huh!? Megumi, what's so funny?" Satoru asked, pretending to be offended.

Megumi shook his head, still chuckling, as he took a step back. "Nothing, nothing," he said, trying to stifle his laughter.

Satoru pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine, be that way," he said, but his eyes were twinkling with mischief.

You watched the exchange with a warm smile, feeling a deep sense of contentment. Your family, despite all the challenges and hardships, had found moments of joy and connection. And in those moments, you knew that everything was going to be okay. As long as you were together, it always will be.

120 notes · View notes

shibology · 7 months ago

Text

mine, all mine <3

genre: angst to comfort

summary - reader is sad, overworked, and crying and rika comforts them

extras - established relationship w rika, reader gender isn't specified, third person, reader is a people pleaser (im projecting), also a huge workaholic, intentional all lowercase, reader's ace is a lycanroc, little dialogue for reader i'm sorry, also a bit short i'm sorry y'all

as the brand new champion, you've been constantly off on interviews and being challenged by trainers who looked up to you. you always accepted these offers in fear of not being liked by others. because of all you did, it was common you wouldn't have the proper time to eat or even drink anything. you also devoted a lot of time to training your pokemon and making sure they were their best, which lead to you commonly being sick from overwork, even prior to becoming champion.

rika, your girlfriend, was currently at work at the league. she had to be there especially early today for some event, meaning that you two didn't get to spend the morning together. it made you sad, but that's how her work was. you found yourself once again sick from how hard you've been working and struggled to get out of bed. you attempted to stretch your arms to grab the bottle of water that was on the nightstand located at your side of the bed, but you were just too weak. and despite being sick, you couldn't help but feel like you haven't been working hard enough recently.

you're afraid of not being able to uphold your newfound reputation as champion. the mere idea of having people see you as less important as you currently are made your stomach hurt. your goals of wanting to be someone others can look up to was clearly taking a toll on you as you finally managed to make it out of bed, but not before you hissed in pain from your tired legs. you finally managed to drag your tired legs to the bathroom to make yourself look somewhat presentable, i mean, you're not going out today anyways.

you sat on the couch and curled yourself up. it seems that you weren't sure when to quit, because the urges and desires to work filled your mind, you wanted to try, just for today, just to push yourself a little further to sharpen your skills. so, you did. you got up, put your clothes on, and went out to practice.

in the middle of your training session, you felt dizzy. *really* dizzy. you stumbled back and placed a hand on your forehead, trying to ground yourself. your lycanroc quickly approaching you in a panic, but all you remember is hearing a loud thump on the ground of your yard as you completely fainted.

you weren't sure how long you were out for, but you could imagine rika's face when she came home from work and your lycanroc immediately ran up to her, beckoning her to follow it to the backyard, and it showing her you passed out on the ground. her expression immediately dimmed as she ran to your side. "hey, baby, are you there?" she called out, shaking you slightly. when you didn't wake up immediately, her heart rate quickly increased as she scrambled to get her phone to call somebody.

you woke up to the bright lights of the hospital you were at, immediately shutting your eyes to avoid the brightness. you sat up and looked around, not seeing rika anywhere. did she forget about you? were you not good enough for her? did she not want you anymore? you felt embarrassed, humiliated, and upset. and all of these feelings came out in the form of tears that quickly began to stream down your face. your hands began to shake as you cried into your palms.

the door slid open, a rika who was holding a plastic bag to quickly dropping it and rushing over to you. "hey, hey, baby, calm down, alright? it's okay, i'm here." she placed a hand on your cheek and pulled you into an embrace, you instinctively wrapped your arms around her, quietly sobbing into her chest as she rubbed your back and held you close. "you're safe, alright. what happened?" she asked, half not expecting an answer as you were currently sobbing your eyes out on her, but you quickly pulled yourself from her and spoke. "i don't know if i'm good enough, what if my lack of hard work has made people think less of me?" you said in a series of broken sobs, which caused her heart to shatter into pieces right there. you were her everything, and seeing you speak these things about yourself and see yourself so lowly made her want to cry herself. she brushed a stray piece of hair from your face and spoke

"don't say that about yourself," she placed a hand on your cheek softly, pressing a kiss to your hot forehead before speaking again. "you're hardworking. very hardworking. you push yourself to limits that nobody could ever think of, and you did all of this to become the champion," she paused once more, rubbing circles on the back of your hand which was at your lap. her facial expression remaining somber as she kissed you once more.

"..and that's what makes you special. you're the most hardworking person i know, you always try your hardest for people. so stop worrying about how others perceive you and live your own life. i'll support whatever you do.. try to remember that." these words felt like the soothing medicine to a deep wound in your heart, you shifted yourself up and pressed a kiss to her lips as she handed you a few tissues.

..You knew you would both be okay in the end.

#pokemon #pokemon rika #elite four rika #rika x reader #rika pokemon #rika #x reader #rika x you #comfort #i hope this is good #heart emoji #angst with a happy ending #rika pokemon x reader #kyra﹒fics

76 notes · View notes

wrightingdungeon · 7 months ago

Text

Dear Diary

Evelyn and George, I love them so much.

ANGST! GET YOUR ANGST HERE!

POV Evelyn’s Diary - shes 19/20 RN - WILL HAVE TIME SKIPS - None of this is cannon beside pop pop blowing up - BTW George still blows himself up oop - Imagine getting snips of her Diary not the whole book - Im not sorry for how I end this - fight me

I did make a kinda sequel right here featuring Alex a lot more angst over here "The Past Reborn"

"Happy ends"

Today is Spring, 8, 1965.

While working in the clinic today, a miner came in, but he wasn't like the other miners. He almost dropped his cap taking it off while trying to introduce himself. His name is George, and he came in for an injury on his hand. The rope he was holding had slipped from his grip, causing a severe rope burn across his palm.

He apologized for tracking coal dust into the clinic, which no miner has ever apologized for before. I don't think their mothers explained how hard it is to get coal dust out of the bed sheets, but it's my job, so I shouldn't complain much. I just hope George will be okay. I told him he should inform his foreman that it's doctor's orders he not work until his hand heals completely.

Today is Spring, 12, 1965

The doctor was out of town today, having a call outside of town. The clinic ran as usual, although I had to tell some people to return tomorrow to see the doctor. Despite a few cases, today was a good day. Mr. George came back, and his hand has healed phenomenally. It still has a bit more healing to do, but it doesn't look like it will leave a bad scar.

I must admit, when I was holding his hand and inspecting his burn, I couldn't help but feel light-headed. George is not a bad-looking man, and his smile is so kind, His miner's cap always tosses his brown hair, and his eyes always have a twinkle in them. I’m afraid I’m a horrid nurse, feeling these things for someone in my care.

Today is Spring, 20, 1965.

George came by the clinic today. His hand looked better, but that wasn't the reason he came. He brought me a bundle of tulips, thanking me for all the care I had given him. I'm looking at them in my window right now, and I can't help but smile. He is such a kind man. I can't quite figure out how he knew what flowers I fancy, but does that matter? They are so beautiful.

I am sad, though, because George's hand has healed fully, and now he has no reason to come to the clinic. I should be happy—he's healed, and I did my job—but my heart aches knowing I won't see his smile or his twinkling eyes again. Like I said, I must be a horrid nurse.

Today is Summer, 4, 1965

I saw George again today. I was at the market shopping for dinner when I reached for a leek, and my hand touched his. His laughter is much more boisterous than his voice, which was a pleasant surprise. It's nice discovering things about him—he is like a book I don't want to put down.

He offered to cook me dinner as a proper thank you for helping him. I should have said no, but I said yes. Now, I'm sitting here, terrified to go to his home. I've never had anyone other than my mother cook for me. My heart is fluttering.

Today is Summer, 13, 1965

I have heard the number thirteen is unlucky, but I believe it to be lucky. This evening, I heard a knock at my door. It was George, dressed nicely with his hair neatly fixed. He handed me flowers and asked me out to a gridball game.

What do I wear? I want to impress George. I haven't been on a date before.

The date went so well! George's team won, and he was so happy. We got sorbet afterward to celebrate, and George took my hand in his as we walked. I really do believe the number thirteen is lucky.

Today is Summer, 28, 1965

It has been two weeks of me and George going steady, and it feels like a dream. When George finishes his shift in the mines, he comes to the clinic and walks me home. He is such a gentleman, nothing like the other miners I have met. Tonight was just magical. As George walked me to the door, I could tell something was off. His hands sweat when he is nervous, and I swear they were dripping.

He looked at me, his face as red as a beet, and asked if he could kiss me. His lips are soft and warm. It's embarrassing to admit, but his mouth does taste like cigarettes. Oh, I think I am in love, and I don't know what to do.

Today is Winter, 20, 1965

I can't believe it… George asked me out again today. He took me to the cliff to watch the sunset. He was sweating again and refused to look at me. When I asked him what was wrong, he just caged up further. I thought he was breaking up with me, but then he grabbed me as I got up to leave. His words fumbled over each other, and he almost fell over as he rushed to his knee.

George proposed to me. He told me I was the most beautiful woman he had ever met and that he couldn't stop thinking about me since he burned his hand with that rope. I'm so excited—I'm going to be George's wife soon. I just wish Mother was still with me so she could see this.

Today is Fall, 14, 1970

I can't sleep. George had an accident today at the mines. It was terrible; they had to rush him to the city. The doctor sent me home, saying I was a wreck. I can't stop crying, picturing him covered in blood and bruises on the operating table. Someone said he dropped dynamite.

Please, Yoba, don't take my George. After losing my parents, he's all I have. I can't bear to be alone again. He's my everything—the love of my life. The house feels empty without him. Every corner holds memories of him, and I can't imagine life without him.

Yoba, you've always answered my prayers. Please, I was so alone after Mother and Father passed, please don't take him from me as well.

Today is Spring, 2, 1971

They finally allowed George to come home from the hospital, albeit in a wheelchair. But that doesn't matter to me. What matters is that he's home and on the mend. It's a new chapter for both of us, one filled with challenges and uncertainties. Sometimes, George can be a bit rude, but I can see the fear in his eyes.

I made a promise to stand by him no matter what: for better or worse, in sickness and in health, till death do us part. And I intend to keep that promise. I'll be there for George, caring for him and cherishing our time together, no matter what lies ahead.

Today is Winter, 2, 1976

This is a happy day! Me and George weren't sure I could become pregnant, but I am! We are so excited to see our child. George has been working in the nursery non-stop, making sure he can care for our baby, not allowing that wheelchair to stop him.

I have decided on two names: Clara for a daughter and Coy for a son. I don't care what we have; I know they will be perfect.

Today is Summer, 10, 1977

Clara is perfect. With George's rich brown hair and my green eyes, she's a sight to behold. Despite her small stature, her eyes hold the same glimmer of curiosity as her father's. I know she will cause all kinds of trouble as she grows up just like her father.

As I watch George cradle her with such gentleness, his protective gaze never leaving her, and the tears of love that well up in his eyes as he whispers soothing words to her, I'm reminded once again of how blessed I am to have him by my side. In moments like these, it's crystal clear that I've married the most wonderful man.

Today is Summer, 13, 2000

I knew the number thirteen was lucky. Today, our grandson Alex was born. As I held him in my arms, I couldn't help but notice how much he resembled his mother, right down to the tiny button nose that mirrored hers when she was born. George was worried about Clara, complaining that everyone was here to see just Alex and not his baby girl. He has always been such a good father; he will be the best grandfather as well.

Looking at my family as it has grown, I’ve gone from an empty home after my parents passed, to a husband, a daughter, and now a son-in-law and a beautiful grandson. I love my family dearly and can't wait for the years ahead of us.

Fall, 16, 2004 This page is heavily tear stained

We took Alex for the day taking him to the fair as Clara wanted him to experience it. I can't believe we got lucky enough to have Alex… George's scream echoes in my mind… Did he scream with that pain when he was blown up?

We thought the phone call was Clara telling us that they would be late picking up Alex. The phone call shattered our hopes—it was the Zuzu Highway Patrol delivering the tragic news. Clara and her husband are gone… Victims of a drunk driver on the wrong side of the road. They didn't survive.

But we have Alex…. We have to tell our four-year-old grandson he can't go home anymore… He can't see his Mother or Father ever again

Yoba, why didn't you shield them?

80 notes · View notes

therealcocoshady · 10 months ago

Text

Recovery - Chapter 26

Eminem x FemReader Fanfiction

Summary : Reader has left the country to try and deal with her breakup with Em. She thinks it's over until she gets a call... from Hailie.

Tags : ANGST, Comfort

Y/N’s POV

You’d been back in France for a few months and you were finally a doctor. You had successfully defended your doctoral dissertation over zoom and it was one of the happiest, most relieving days of your entire life. It was quite an accomplishment and you felt extremely proud. Of course, it wasn’t the whole ordeal it would have been if you had stayed in Michigan : the university would have organized a designated event and you would have invited a lot of people to celebrate this milestone with you. Instead, it had been you, wearing a blazer in front of your computer for a Zoom call with the jury, while people you knew watched the livestream. It was a little sad, for sure, but ultimately, you knew that coming back to France was the best decision for your mental health.

The breakup with Marshall had taken quite a toll on you and you had not been able to function properly. Everything made you think of him and you had come to the conclusion that you would never heal if you had constant reminders. Talia and Jamal were sad to let you go, but they did it for your sake. Also, you did not want to impose and be a burden for your best friends. A few weeks after the breakup, things had gotten so bad that Talia had to help you shower and monitor your eating. Back then, you weren’t doing much : trying to work on your dissertation and crying, only sleeping when you were exhausted. It wasn’t a proper way to live and you knew it. Hence your decision to go back to France and live with your Dad. For university as well as most people you knew, the official reason for your departure was that you had family issues that required your presence. It was a blatant lie and you felt guilty, but you did what you had to do to go forward. Everyone had been nice and supportive, especially people you knew from the studio. Even Paul was kind to you and, when Jamal told him you were leaving, he even offered for you to take the private jet. You had refused, but you appreciated the thought, even though you suspected that he just wanted to make sure that you were leaving for good and wouldn’t be a disturbance to Marshall’s work life.

Regardless of the distance, your friends came through for your dissertation defense and they watched the livestream as you achieved your long-term ambition of becoming a doctor. You were truly touched by everyone’s support. They had even sent gifts to be delivered to your place the day after. You were treated to bottles of champagne (from people who did not know you were sober), gourmet baskets, bouquets of flowers… The biggest gift of all, though, came from Marshall.

FLASHBACK

Upon landing in Paris, you found that Marshall had tried to reach you while you were on the flight. Of course, you had the urge to call him back, after all the texts you had sent.

Hello ? You heard his sleepy voice say on the phone.

Oh my God, am I waking you up ? You asked as you were suddenly reminded of the time difference.

Mmmh yeah, he said. It’s ok though. Thanks for calling me back.

Sorry I missed your call, you said sheepishly. I just landed in Paris.

How was the flight ? He asked.

Good. Got an upgrade so I flew in business class instead of the coach, so it was pleasant.

Good, he said softly. Look, I… I’m sorry it took so long for you to get a hold of me. I completely unplugged and by the time I checked my phone, you were gone. I want you to know that I would have come and said goodbye. I was too late.

Thank you, you whispered in a sigh of relief. I thought you didn’t want to see me…

Of course I did, he replied. Also, thank you for the package. Jamal gave it to me and I’m… speechless. You know what I mean ? It means so much. I’m touched.

You’re welcome, you said. I was afraid it would be too much.

It’s definitely too much, he said with a small laugh. You shouldn’t spend too much on me. But the pen and the notebook are beautiful.

I’m glad you like them. They made me think of you. I was saving them for your birthday, but… You know.

I should have been the one treating you to fancy stuff, he mumbled. If I’d known you’d be leaving, I would at least have arranged for you to fly private.

I know, you said softly. Paul offered the jet when he knew I was leaving, but I refused.

Marshall went silent on the phone for a few seconds - enough to make you wonder if he had actually hung up on you.

I see. I read your letter. I get it, he said.

I’m sorry, you said flatly.

I’m sorry, Y/N… I wish I had known you were struggling. I wish you would have called me.

I couldn’t, you replied in a creaky voice. It’s too hard, Marshall.

I know, he said softly. But just so you know… You being on another fucking continent doesn’t mean I’m not here if you need, alright ? You can call me if you need anything. I mean it.

Promise I will, if I ever need a plane, you chuckled.

You know what I mean, he said sternly.

I do. Thank you, you said softly.

Anyway… Congratulations are in order, I guess ? You’re finally done with your work, he said.

I am, you said with a smile. Thank you.

Thank you for the acknowledgement, too. That was the sweetest thing ever, he said softly.

Not too cheesy ?

Just enough, he said with a laugh. Jamal told me you’d do the whole defense over Zoom and that they’d be watching. Can I watch too ? You know, I would have loved to be here on your big day if it had been in Detroit.

Please don’t, you found yourself saying. I appreciate the support but I just can’t do it if I know you’re watching.

I get it, he said sheepishly. But I know you’ll do great. I’ll be thinking of you. I always am anyway…

Thank you, Marshall, you said in a whisper. I always think about you too…

I read that, yeah, he whispered back.

Silence again.

I should probably let you sleep, you said.

…Ok, he replied. Thank you for calling, Y/N. Take care, alright ?

Bye, you said softly.

You heard him hang up the phone and whispered “I love you”, on the verge of tears. Now that you were back in France, something painful hit you : it may be the place that you were born, but it wasn’t home. Home was the place you had left six weeks ago. Home was Marshall. And now, you had to start all over again.

END OF FLASHBACK

About a week after your dissertation defense, you received the most enormous package you had ever seen in your life. You weren’t even sure how it could have been handled by the postal services. It contained the biggest bouquet of flowers you had ever seen - some real Dubaï Housewife Instagram stuff - a black velvet box containing an exquisite diamond solitaire necklace, as well as a gorgeous watch from Cartier. Of course, it was from Marshall. You didn’t even need to read the card. He knew this watch was your dream one - the one you wanted to get when you had achieved something significant, when you truly became successful. The box also contained a letter, written in his penmanship that you loved so much :

“Dear Y/N,

It’s my turn to make a big gesture. Congratulations on your achievement. You were absolutely amazing (unsurprisingly so). I might have hidden in a corner of the room when Talia and Jamal watched your defense (hope you don’t get mad at me). I hope you like the necklace, though it won’t do you justice. The watch is set in the Detroit time zone, just in case you want to call any of us. We’re all thinking of you. Especially me.

Love you always,

Marshall.”

You immediately sent him a thank-you text and the two of you texted for a bit but you didn’t really keep in touch. In the following weeks, your former roommates mentioned him when you were on the phone, but that was about it. You didn’t really know what he was up to, although you guessed he was working, as usual. The only other type of information that you had was from his official social media accounts so, really, there was no way for you to know how he was actually doing, apart from tweets about the Lions games and a few Instagram posts managed by his team.

Weeks went by and you received a package from Shady Records. It contained a CD version of the new album as well as a small box with a vintage portable CD player and Beats headphones, along with a note from Marshall.

“Dear Y/N,

I don’t know if you’re old enough to own anything that can play a CD, so I included one of my own players for you to listen to the album (take good care of it, it’s one of my favorites). We’re finally done with the new album. Thank you for every minute you spent in the studio, for all the time you spent encouraging and listening to me and for all the times you listened to some of these tracks. This album would not be the same without you.

Love,

Marshall.

PS : whenever you get a CD, always check the booklet :)”

You knew the album was coming. Jamal had mentioned it, although he was probably not supposed to, knowing how secretive Marshall and his team could be about this. However, holding a physical copy of the album felt different, not to mention how thoughtful and personal the gift from Marshall was. You immediately opened the case and looked at the track list. It included some of the songs you liked the most - some of which you had actually witnessed the recording of. You remembered the times you gave him your opinion and it seemed like he had taken it in consideration. There were some newly recorded tracks as well.

Before listening, you took a look at the booklet. You found your name in the acknowledgement section.

“To Y/N. Thank you for everything. You deserve a whole album, but I hope a song will do. Check track n.12”.

Curiosity got the best of you and, of course, it was the first track you listened to, as you skipped the first eleven ones. It was a track you had never heard before, so you could only assume it was recorded after your breakup. It was a feature with Skylar Grey, a dark, sad yet beautiful love song. It seemed like a conversation between two lovers parting ways. Your heart skipped a beat when you heard a line you distinctively remembered writing in your letter : “Every little thing is a reminder of what once was and will never be again. And being reminded that I had everything and lost it all is too much pain”.

You shed an emotional tear at the idea that your letter had inspired him to write such beautiful, yet sad lyrics. You listened to the whole album with your eyes closed, letting Marshall’s soothing voice fill your ears. You had always liked the way he could play with his voice, conveying so many different emotions. For a minute, it seemed like he was in the room with you.

Once you were done, you immediately texted him. With a newly released album, there was no doubt that he would be busy and you didn’t want to disturb him.

To M : Thank you or the album. And the CD player. And the acknowledgement. And track 12. Loved every second. PS : Let me know if you ever need a ghostwriter again 🙂

Much to your surprise, he responded immediately.

From M : Glad you liked it. Though I should tell you that ghostwriters usually aren’t credited.

To M : For you ? I’ll skip the credit. Just write me a big, FAT check.

From M : Check the booklet again… Credit section. Is wire transfer ok ? 🙂

Your heart skipped another beat. He didn’t… Did he ?!

You looked at the credits for the song and noticed that the list was surprisingly short compared to the rest of the album, prompting you to think that fewer people had been involved in the making of the track. It mentioned Marshall, Jamal, Skylar Grey and… yourself. Your name was mentioned as a lyricist.

Without a second thought, you FaceTimed Marshall who immediately picked up with a smile on his face.

You didn’t !!! You exclaimed.

I did, he said with a chuckle. That’s your line after all.

You didn’t need to credit me !

You know I give credit where it’s due, he replied. I’ll send a contract your way. I can even get Paul to talk numbers with you. Just keep it reasonable, ok ? It’s one line.

I don’t want money, you said with a laugh. I just can’t believe you did this. You turned a part of my letter into a song and dedicated that stuff to me ! That’s just…

Yeah ?

Well that’s crazy, you simply said.

Well I’m crazy about you, you know ? He mused.

After all this time ?

Always.

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

Harry Potter reference ? You giggled.

You’ve been on my back about these movies and how I haven’t seen all of them so I caught up, he chuckled. I actually watched the last one a few days ago.

You should read the books now, you said.

Not a chance.

You stared at the screen and watched his face, or at least the part you could see, since he was holding his phone in weird angles, as the boomer and technophobe he very much was. He seemed to have lost a bit of weight but you weren’t too sure.

Y/N ? He asked as you went silent.

Sorry, you said. I’m a bit tired.

Yeah, you look like a panda, he said with a smile. Or a raccoon.

That’s what happens when you make me cry with your music and acknowledgements, you replied as you playfully rolled your eyes.

Her smiled and chuckled. Hearing his laugh was medicine. Talking to him felt good too. It was the first time you felt alive in weeks.

What are you doing ? You asked. Did I wake you up ?

Nope, it’s still daytime here, he said. I’m at home, resting a little and packing my bag for some promo tour. I have a couple interviews planned in New York and LA next week. We’re also looking at actual tour dates for this autumn.

That’s soon, you pointed out.

Yeah, it’s a surprise tour, he said. A small one. Just a couple of dates here and there, US and Europe, to see if I can still attract the crowds, I guess.

Of course you can, you scoffed. People are going to go crazy. Are you excited ?

Yeah, I like performing, he said with a smile. I don’t really like tour life, though. I’m just afraid I’m a bit rusty. I haven’t done that in a while.

You’ll do great, you said reassuringly. A couple of sold out stadiums and you’re good. Where are you performing ?

So far, I think we have Detroit, New York, LA, Berlin, London and Amsterdam, he explained. We’re also talking about some festival dates, but that’ll be for next summer. We’ll see.

You found yourself a little sad that he didn’t mention Paris. It would have been the perfect excuse and opportunity to see him perform. After all, he was known to put on quite a show. But perhaps it was for the best. Maybe it was a bad idea. After all, you had literally fled to another country so that you could heal from your breakup. Talking to him was one thing, but seeing him in person was another.

How about you ? He asked. What’s up with your career ?

My career as a lyricist ? You joked. It’s going great.

Seriously, I want to know, he said with a smile.

Not much. I teach a couple of hours a week at university, you said. It’s not a fancy position or anything, and it’s actually ending soon, but it’s the best I could find. I’ll have to apply to other jobs.

Your students must be lucky to have you, he mused.

I’m kind of a bitch when it comes to grading, you chuckled.

Do you enjoy it ?

Love it, you said with a genuine smile. I can’t wait to have an actual job in the field and make a living out of it.

You don’t, yet ? He asked.

Right now, I don’t work much so the income is not the best, you admitted. But it’s fine.

You manage to pay the rent alright ?

I’m living with my Dad so I don’t need to, you shrugged. Plus, you know me, I’m not high maintenance so it’s fine, really…

You know, if you need money…, he began.

I don’t, you said.

Let me at least pay you for the lyrics, he offered.

Not a chance, you said sternly. If you give me a dime, it means you’re sending the letter back and you don’t want it.

Fine, he groaned. But can you promise me you’ll be alright ?

Yes. Promise me you will be alright ?

Promise. I’m sorry, I have to go, he said with a sad voice. The girls are coming to my place.

Enjoy, you said softly. It was great talking to you.

Thanks. Take care, alright ?

Take care.

The call ended and, for the first time in weeks, you had an actual smile on your face. You were happy you got to see him and hear his voice. You were also giddy and emotional over the fact that you had a song on his album that you could actually claim as yours. It was by far the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for you.

Weeks went by and you got a chance to catch a few interviews of Marshall talking about his new record. Obviously, it was doing really well in sales and streams and fans were obsessing over it - yet another surprise album he had quietly dropped after years of anticipation. Track number 12 turned out to be a fan favorite too. You liked watching the interviews as it allowed you to, once more, see and hear him. It was almost like a guilty pleasure and you could get where his Stans were coming from. He was always fascinating. By watching them, you could confirm that he had lost quite a bit of weight. He still looked good, obviously - to you he always did. But you did notice a few comments about his appearance. Some said he looked sick and tired. One journalist even confronted him about it.

I have to ask, because the Internet is obsessing over it at this point, man. You have lost some weight haven’t you ?

Yeah, I have, he confirmed quietly.

Are you on some sort of diet ?

Nope. I’m just eating healthy, exercising… staying in shape, you know ?

So you’re healthy ? Everyone seems worried about you.

I’m good, he chuckled. I’m just not twenty anymore, you know. I’ve been working a lot on the record so that’s probably where the extra wrinkles and dark circles come from. Plus, i kind of had to get fitter. We’ve been shooting a couple of music videos and, at this point, I can officially announce that we’re going on a few surprise dates to perform in a few months, so… if people want to make sure I’m healthy, just come to the shows, ok ? There’s gonna be some dates in the US, UK and Europe, to be announced really really soon.

He smiled as the audience clapped and easily got the conversation to shift.

It's quite a surprise isn’t it ? The journalist asked. We haven’t seen you perform in forever !

I have to get back into it, right ? I miss the fans, the energy. Recording music is great, but performing, it’s another thing. I like both, you know ?

Why didn’t you plan more dates ? And why so soon ?

As I said, man, I have to get back into it. I didn’t want to wait too long to perform the new tracks and that’s kind of the downside when you drop surprise albums like that, you can’t exactly plan a tour easily. Otherwise people will know about what’s coming. Plus, I’m at a point where I’d like to see if I can still sell out venues without advertising a year and a half in advance.

The interviewer went on to ask some more questions about the tour but Marshall wouldn’t give too much information.

Eventually, the interview ended and you had to refrain yourself from actually searching for the tour dates and booking tickets for whatever show. You knew it would probably be a mistake. Plus, even though you weren’t strapped for cash, you couldn’t really afford concert tickets and travel. It wouldn’t be reasonable. After a while, you ended up realizing that watching those interviews on loop was messing with your brain. It only made you miss him more and it wasn’t helping you to get better. You were still struggling, even though it was not as bad as when you had left Detroit. You had lost quite a bit of weight too - about thirty pounds to be exact and, even though you fought hard to stay clean, you didn’t exactly lead the healthiest of lifestyles, barely eating and struggling to sleep at night, only passing out when you were exhausted.

You figured out it was yet another thing to recover from : your addiction to Marshall Bruce Mathers III. You had to, otherwise you would never move forward. Although, as time flew by, you couldn’t help but think that leaving him was your biggest mistake. You didn’t care about kids and marriage nearly as much as you cared about him. But you had to move on. What was done was done, you were in another country and there was no going back.

At some point, you stopped checking the interviews, even unfollowed him on social media. Eventually, you stopped mentioning him and his music altogether when you spoke with Talia and Jamal. You decided that denial may be the best option you had for the time being. The only thing you did indulge in was track number 12. But only because you were one of the lyricists, so that made it ok, right ? Right ?

A couple more months went by and it was autumn. You fought against the thought that Marshall would soon be in Europe. Closer than ever. Your contract with university had not been renewed and, in spite of a lot of applications, you hadn’t found a job yet. So you were left alone with your intrusive thoughts and spent most of your days mindlessly watching movies and reading books. You didn’t go out much and most of your social interactions were through your phone, with Talia and Jamal. When it rang, you picked up without even looking at the caller ID. Who else would call anyway ? Hiring season was over, so it wouldn’t be for a job.

What’s up Talia ? You asked as you closed your book.

It’s not Talia, you heard Hailie’s voice say.

Your heart immediately began to race. If she was calling you, it couldn’t be good. After your last interactions, it was clear that she wasn’t your biggest fan and wouldn’t be calling to check up on you and have some girly chat anytime soon. For a second, you were worried that she was calling to tell you something awful had happened to Marshall.

Oh my God, what’s wrong ? What happened to him ? You immediately asked.

What ? She asked.

You’re calling me. We both know it can’t be good.

You heard her sigh on the other end of the phone.

You’re right, it’s not, she said.

What’s wrong ?

What’s wrong is that Dad is miserable without you, she stated. What’s wrong is that you left him months ago and now he is a mess.

I was trying to do the right thing, you said sheepishly. I guess you made some pretty valid points, Hailie...

Look, I hate to admit it, but I was wrong about some of it, she said in an annoyed voice. I guess you made him happy and that you were good for him after all. I’m… sorry for saying some of those mean things.

Thank you, you whispered.

Did you really love him ? She asked.

Of course, you said. With all of my heart.

Do you still ?

I… Yeah, you sighed. I do.

Then I need a favor, she said.

You were surprised. Hailie calling you was the last thing you expected. Especially not for a favor. You knew how proud she could be.

Go on, you said. I can’t promise I’ll say yes, though.

Will you please come to the Amsterdam show ? She asked. It’s the last of the tour and it falls on his birthday.

Do you think it’s a good idea ? You asked. I’m not even sure he would want me there.

He still loves you, Y/N, she sighed. Of course he would want to see you. Look… Do you want to be with him or not ?

You sighed. Of course you wanted to be with him. In fact, it was the only certainty you had about your future : that you actually wanted to be with him. You had done a lot of soul-searching in the past months, and you had come to the conclusion that, even though you had always wanted to get married and have kids, you didn’t care as much about your hypothetical future husband and kids as much as you cared about Marshall. When you imagined your future, you only saw him. You had ever met anybody as good for you as him.

Y/N ? Hailie asked after you’d been silent for a minute.

Sorry, you said. Yes, I do. I want to be with him.

Then please come to Amsterdam and get back with Dad, she said. He needs you. I’m still mad at you, but I’m not too proud to admit that you were good for him after all. Looking back, I had never seen him so happy than when you were in his life.

Are you actually giving me your blessing to date your dad ? You asked in disbelief.

Don’t read too much into it, she said in an annoyed voice. If you’re what it takes to make him happy again, I will find a way to put up with you. I’ll e-mail you with your plane tickets and we’ll discuss the details later ok ?

I’ll get my own, you said with sass. I would hate for you to think that I’m taking advantage of your family money.

Please shut up, she groaned. I’m doing my best to be nice to you and you’re not making it easy. I will book your tickets and you will accept them.

Thank you, you said as you eased up a little.

I’ll talk to you soon, ok ? For the details of the surprise and stuff, Hailie said.

Ok, you said. By the way… I heard you guys were engaged. Congratulations.

Oh you heard about that ? She asked as you could hear her smile. Congrats on the PhD.

Thank you.

You smiled. You were pretty sure she still despised you, but at least, these words meant that you could be civil towards one another. After another exchange of words, you said your goodbyes and you felt your heart pounding in your chest. After nearly six months apart, you were going to see the love of your life.

In the following weeks, leading up to your trip to Amsterdam, you were a nervous mess and Talia spent a lot of time on the phone with you, convincing you that it was, indeed, a good idea. For the first time in months, you were looking forward to something and it was quite a feat. Hailie had booked first class tickets from Paris to Amsterdam, which was extremely generous. It seemed like she was intent on making it a good surprise for Marshall and convincing you to come. She even texted back and forth with you to make sure you were actually coming and would not miss the flight. She even bought a fancy hotel room for you, just in case.

When you got out of the plane, she was waiting for you, along with Stevie and Alaina. The reunion with Hailie was a bit awkward but her sisters were all smiles. You made small talk in the car that was taking you from Schiphol Airport to the hotel everyone was staying at.

How was your flight ? Hailie asked in an attempt to make small talk.

It was good, you said shyly. Thank you again for the first class ticket. I would have flown in economy, though. It’s a short trip.

Well, we want the surprise to go well, Stevie giggled. Putting you in a good mood is part of the plan.

Shouldn’t you be spending the day with him ? You asked.

We arrived in Amsterdam yesterday to surprise him, Alaina explained. We also spent this morning with him but now he is doing sound-checks and rehearsals. He won’t even notice we’re gone.

So, what’s the plan ? You asked.

We have a few hours before the show, Hailie said. We’ll sneak you in the arena with a bit of help from Porter and Paul. We’ll hide in the crowd during the show and go backstage afterwards, so that you can go and see him.

Ok, you said nervously.

You stared at the three of them. The whole situation was definitely weird.

Don’t be nervous, Alaina said with a smile. It’ll be fine.

It’s been six months, you said sheepishly. What if he’s mad at me ?

He’s not mad at you, Hailie said softly. He misses you. A lot.

Are you sure ?

In the past few months, we’ve never seen him as happy as the few times he got off the phone with you or texted you, Stevie said.

You know about that ? You asked in confusion.

Here’s the thing about Dad, Hailie said with a grin. He believes he’s not letting on, but he sucks at hiding anything from us.

Doesn’t help that he doesn’t know how to lock his phone, Stevie giggled.

So you… snooped ?

Believe me, if you’d seen him, you’d have done the same thing, Hailie sighed. At some point, I was scared that he would relapse or something. So I checked his phone to make sure he didn’t have a drug dealer. That’s how I saw your texts. So I told my sisters.

And as time went on and he wasn’t doing better, we decided to help the two of you get back together, Alaina said.

Was it that bad ? You asked in a worried voice.

He’s a bit better now, Alaina said reassuringly. Touring helps getting his mind off things. But yeah… He wasn’t doing too good.

You nodded. You had no idea it was that bad. The thought of him being unhappy broke your heart. After all, on the rare occasions the two of you had talked, he seemed to be doing alright. But obviously, you weren’t there and his daughters knew best.

I’m sorry he had to go through this, you said on the verge of tears. And you too. Do you think he will forgive me ?

It’s not your fault, Alaina said. You’re the one who left but, from what I gather, you had your reasons and relationships end all the time. We wouldn’t have had you come all this way if we weren’t sure of what we were doing. No one’s mad at you.

Well, I am, Hailie said sternly. But it’s not about Dad. So, yeah.

And how about… you girls ? You asked Alaina and Stevie, whose stance you didn’t know about.

I couldn’t care less, Stevie shrugged. I mean, it’s Dad, so it’s weird to think of him being with someone but I guess I’m glad he found someone who is actually willing to put up with him. Didn’t think it would happen, so…

Steve ! Alaina giggled. But yeah, she’s not wrong. You know, Dad was single for so long, we were a bit worried. All we want is for him to be happy.

Ok, you said shyly.

It was reassuring to know that they didn’t hate you. Still, you were a bit unsure how you should navigate the situation.

We have a few hours before the show. We can get you set in your hotel room and after, we can do some shopping and help you find an outfit if you don’t have one, Hailie offered.

You looked at your outfit. It was nothing extravagant but you had made an effort to find clothes that fit you pretty well - which was a challenge since you had lost weight and your whole closet had become at least two sizes too big. You were wearing a casual short black dress, black tights, leather boots and the jacket Marshall had bought for you in New York.

What’s wrong with my outfit ? You asked. I didn’t think I would need to dress up for an Eminem concert…

Not the concert, Alaina giggled. For Dad’s birthday dinner, tomorrow night. Hailie told you, right ?

Oh my God, I forgot, Hailie said. I’m so sorry ! I’ve been so busy with planning… So, basically, we’re just celebrating casually after the show tonight, dinner in his suite. But we’re staying and enjoying Amsterdam for a few days after, and tomorrow, we arranged for people to fly in and have dinner to celebrate Dad’s birthday as well as the album’s success. Porter is already here, obviously, but Talia and Jamal are coming too, Royce, Dre and Fifty as well.

Are you sure I should be here tomorrow ? You asked, definitely nervous. I’m happy to just leave you guys to it, you know…

Believe me, if I have to be there, so do you, Stevie chuckled.

I’m definitely having the two of you sit next to each other, Hailie sighed. It’s Dad’s birthday, make an effort. Of course you should be here, Y/N. You’re his girlfriend.

Not yet, you pointed out. We’re not even sure he wants me back. What if it goes wrong ?

It won’t, Alaina said. Just relax. Look… I shouldn’t tell you, but I know for a fact that he made plans to fly to Paris after the tour. He wanted to see you. You’re just beating him to it.

Ok, you said nervously. I’m sorry, I know I sound like a broken record, it’s just… I guess I’ll feel better when I see him.

When you got to the hotel, they took you to the room that had been booked for you. Then, they convinced you to do some shopping. Apparently, the next night’s dinner was to be held in the hotel restaurant, which was five star. You were a bit nervous since it was your first time shopping in six months but they helped you find a nice outfit.

Hours later, you were in the crowd, waiting for the show to start, nervously playing with your pendant, which had never left your neck.

Is that Dad’s pendant ? Alaina asked.

Yes, you said. He gave it to me when we first met, to wish me luck on my recovery journey. I never really took it off.

For how long have you been sober ?

Almost a year and a half now, you explained. It would have been longer but I relapsed a while ago. But Marshall… He helped me through it. And I’ve been sober ever since. I owe him everything.

Even after the breakup ? She mused.

Well, yeah… I mean, the only thing that kept me from using again and numbing the pain with pills was that I wouldn’t want him to be disappointed, you said earnestly. He changed my life. He is the reason why I got better and stuck to it.

You guys are good for each other, she pointed out.

I don’t know, you replied. But… If he lets me, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be good enough for him.

Taking you by surprise, she engulfed you into a big hug.

Thank you for coming, she whispered. And thank you for loving him like this. I know Hailie is mad at you, and Stevie is just grumpy to be without her boyfriend, but… We’re really thankful for you, you know ?

You hugged her back and smiled as the show started. Suddenly, you understood what the big deal surrounding Eminem was. He was clearly born to perform and make music, he was literally oozing charisma. He was wearing jeans, sneakers and a simple black tee-shirt. Obviously, he didn’t need anything else to look good. You were literally unable to take your eyes off him.

Now, he said on the mic, we’re gonna perform a very special song. It’s my favorite one on the album and I know you guys love it. I need someone for that. Please welcome the incredible Skylar Grey, Amsterdam !!!

Everyone cheered as the singer stepped on stage and the first notes played. You knew what was coming : your song. Track 12. For three minutes and thirty seconds, the whole crowd sang along to the words of the most beautiful song ever written. It felt like they were singing it for you. You were flabbergasted and overcome with emotion : your mouth was wide open and tears were welling in your eyes. Hailie, Alaina and Stevie smiled at you, rubbing your shoulders.

Marshall and Skylar performed a couple more songs together and the show came to an end, with the crowd singing happy birthday to Marshall, who was smiling. Seeing him on stage made you fall for him all over again. When the crowd started to vacate, the girls took you backstage and Porter immediately came to greet you, as well as a few other people you knew from the studio.

We’re on a mission here, Hailie recalled. No one is supposed to see her before him. Where is he ?

Showering in his dressing room, Porter said. Paul is searching for you girls. Something about guests for tomorrow…

Can you take her while we sort this out ? She asked.

He nodded and she gave you a pat on the shoulder.

Breathe, she said.

Ok.

As Porter led you to the corridor, he made small talk.

It’s great that you could make it, he said. We all miss you at the studio, you know ?

I miss you guys too, you said with a smile. I had to go back because of some family stuff.

Quit lying, he chuckled. Marshall told me about the two of you.

Oh, you said, embarrassed to be caught in a lie. Who else knows ?

I think I’m the only one, he shrugged. Paul had suspicions, though. Here we are.

You were in front of a closed door and, suddenly, it became real : you were about to see Marshall after six months. You weren’t sure if you were about to faint or not. Before you got cold feet, Porter knocked on the door. No answer.

Bro, it’s me, he said. I have a birthday surprise for you.

Can this wait ? You heard Marshall’s voice say. I just got out the shower.

No. Open the door now, his friend insisted. Someone is here for you.

I swear, if it’s that prostitute joke, I’ll kill you.

Believe me, this one is out of my price range, Porter giggled.

The door swung open and you were faced with a shirtless Marshall, looking at you in shock, his jaw almost on the floor. You were staring at each other but none of you said a word.

I’ll leave you guys to it, Porter said with a wink. Happy birthday, man.

Hey, you whispered. Happy birthday.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem fluff #eminem imagine #eminem x reader #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers headcanons #recovery fanfiction

114 notes · View notes

wordstome · 1 year ago

Text

Single Dad!König (Dream Daddy au)

(+ a bit of Ghost under the cut)

Thank you to everyone who indulged (said exactly what I asked them to say 😅) me.

Here’s the paragraph I wrote:

I imagine his heart sinking when Ava comes home sad and quiet, unwilling to look her dad in the eye. He recognizes what that means: that used to be him as a kid. His worst fears are confirmed when Ava admits she's being harassed by a boy at school, replaced by anger when Ava says her teachers simply shrugged and told her that boys will be boys, and has she considered that maybe he just has a crush on her? Needless to say, by the time König's walking out of that school, nobody will ever be hurting his little girl ever again. Honestly, one glimpse of Ava's dad by her classmates will keep her free from bullying for the rest of her life.

Now here’s a bit more about single dad König, namely, how he came to be a dad…and single :( Angst and death tw ahead (nothing graphic)

With Ghost, I said he would only have had Caden due to an accident, because of Simon’s previous trauma involving his family. He was firmly in the mindset that he would die in the field, he’s just not built for civilian life anymore, he's a danger to everyone who loves him. However, when Caden shows up at his doorstep, all he can think about is Tommy and his nephew Joseph when he looks at the boy. He probably does his best to get Caden sent to a different family member, but let’s suspend our disbelief that any responsible social worker would leave a kid with Simon “Ghost” Riley for a moment and say that the social worker is like “It’s you or the foster care system.” Realistically, Simon would probably be like “foster care is safer than living with me” but for the purposes of the AU, he took the kid in.

With König, he doesn’t have the same trauma/hangups regarding kids and family. He’s in the same boat as Simon: he’s a human weapon, and can’t function properly in civilian life. For König, his work is an outlet and keeps him stable. I’m gonna have to sit down and make a proper post about my König’s character (Alexander), but for my König, violence is a method of regulating his emotions and a way to manage his anxiety. Having power and being hyper competent in the field is key to his mental stability. However, I think he would be able to settle down, it would just take a very patient, special woman. (For the purposes of the AU his first partner is AFAB she/her.) Here’s where I start breaking hearts… 🤭

In Dream Daddy au, König considers his first wife the love of his life. She deeply understood him as a person and wasn’t afraid of him, even when he was socially awkward and intimidating. They were honestly kindred spirits: both of them had their neuroses and flaws, but instead of trying to fix each other or mold the other into some ideal partner, they accepted each other and thus were able to grow together. (And tbh they were already a match made in heaven anyway.) König’s wife never asked him to quit, and was completely ready to raise a child with him frequently being gone. She was a badass woman, and she really, really wanted to start a family with him, so they had Ava.

For three years, König was probably the happiest he’s been in a long time, and if you asked him he’d probably say it was the happiest time in his life. He was moving up the ranks at work, his mental health was in check, and he had a wife and adorable little daughter to go home to every leave. He started planning to transfer to a safer/more stable position, because as much as the military has done for him, he’s ready to step up as a father and a husband. Then he gets a call that changes his life forever, and suddenly he doesn’t get a choice anymore.

(I'm eternally sorry to the little fictional people I made up in my head because I entertained the idea of putting the Brooklyn 99 "Guess who got murdered!" gif here...)

One thing y'all need to know about my man Alexander is that he is the embodiment of "I am not meant for casual. I was born for soul-crushing devotion." His problem is that he never had devotion before his wife: he craved it like a starving man, and it engulfed him like water flowing into a basin when he got it. He had it for a handful of years (I'm thinking 6 but that's a flexible number), and now it's gone again. You know in movies when something horrible happens and they cut all the noise and there's just a high pitched ringing sound? That's König getting that phone call.

God. All I can imagine is König dropping everything and taking the next flight home. He’s in a daze, in a way that he’s never quite been before. His mind is finally quiet, but the emptiness is not peaceful. Then he finally sees his little girl, she runs into his arms, and the dam bursts. He just holds her and cries. He’s numb, a dead man walking throughout all the business that needs to be taken care of after his wife’s death. The only thing that brings him back to the land of the living is Ava. She’s so small, so sweet, and she doesn’t really understand what death means: all she knows is that her mama’s gone somewhere, and her dad is so, so sad all the time. She’s all that keeps him going, and the only reason he keeps himself alive.

By the time you come into his life, it’s been several years, but Ava is still a little girl. She doesn’t remember her mother at all except what König tells and shows her, because he’s determined to keep her memory alive. König’s been slowly rebuilding who he is as a person from whatever scraps are left. There’s a gaping hole inside him, and he’s reconstructed himself around the hole. In some ways he’s a totally new man, in other ways, he’s gone back to who he was before his wife came along. He’s bitter and angry at the way his life has treated him just as he was as a young man, but now he’s swallowed up by guilt and self loathing. He's gotten better at coping and functioning as the years have passed and life has continued on, but his grief has never really gone away.

(alexa, play "right where you left me" by taylor swift)

#HERE BUCCA GOES WRITING ESSAYS ABOUT A FICTIONAL MAN AGAIN #i spared you guys the 2 extra paragraphs about König’s changed perspective on death and mortality #könig #konig #könig cod #konig cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #dream daddy au

144 notes · View notes

sungbeam · 10 months ago

Text

SOMEWHERE ONLY WE KNOW — act I, scene v

nonidol!hwang intak x f!reader

when summit poster boy hwang intak's car breaks down in the school parking lot, it sets off a chain of events that leads to you, someone he was perhaps always meant to find. the only problem is that the two of you are far from the ideal couple, and your peers are apt to keep that status quo.

▷ genre, chapter warnings. s2f2l, classism and discrimination, forbidden romance au, minimal swearing, angst, humor, mentions of grief and terminal illness, written in third person pov

▷ word count. 2.8k

« prev · m.list · next »

a/n: whenever i come back to this series, i remember how hard it is to write it

SUMMER (RISING SENIORS).

Yn had not sent a picture back to Intak. In fact, she hadn't even opened his messages. Intak couldn't decide which was worse—being left on "read" or on "delivered." Both were equally quite horrible, but as the day went on with radio silence from her end, he continuously had to remind himself that she had responsibilities and a life. She couldn't be at his beck and call, and she certainly wouldn't ever entertain the idea of being so.

But one little text would have eased his mind. Just one, little text.

Intak flopped onto the couch in the living room of his house, the entirety of which remained just as cold and empty as it always was. In a way, the quiet was good because it meant that his father wasn't home, taking with him that thick, haunting presence of his. Intak sometimes imagined that he walked around with a massive cloud of fog clinging to his legs and feet, and that image had engraved itself into his head since he was an adolescent, more so now that his father's murky fog would soon consume Intak in all of those heavy expectations.

He lifted his phone up to catch a glimpse of the time. He would have to leave for that one dance class soon, the one that he and his friends had signed up for together to occupy themselves during the summer. If Intak wasn't forced to take over the company after his schooling, he would be dancing, or maybe even reading shit, like proper literature, and writing poetry about dead older brothers and forbidden friendships with strangers who felt closer to him than his own family.

He was tempted to text Yn just to check in. Something like 'hey bff i'm bored as hell and sad as fuck hbu' or 'miss u and worried about u text me back?' or god forbid, 'i've been trying to imagine what u look like but i have a feeling a picture won't do u justice.' God, he really needed to stop watching those cursed romcoms when he was bor—

Bzzzzz. Bzzz. Bzzzz.

Intak leapt out of his skin in surprise.

He reached into his pants pocket to withdraw Jaehyuk's phone. The notifications from Yn came in rapid succession at the top of the screen:

yer a wizard yn!: sorry i went mia for like a day

yer a wizard yn!: smth came up

yer a wizard yn!: cute pic btw :') ig i owe u a pfp too

yer a wizard yn!: *sent a photo*

Intak held his breath, then forced himself to turn away from the phone screen. Was he ready for this? Was he ready for her reveal? This felt like an invasion of privacy, especially with how carefully she kept her identity hidden the first few weeks they'd been texting each other. It hadn't been until recently that Yn had begun to let him learn things about her.

It wasn't like he forced her though… right? It was out of her own want and will. It was her choice and he—

He was going to fully indulge in that.

Intak finally opened up the full chat to view the messages she'd sent.

And lo and behold, there she was. It was a casual selfie, seeming to be taken in front of a window by the way the sun shone over her face in a gold-colored glow. She wore a dark T-shirt with a logo Intak couldn’t quite make out from the way her arms and hair were positioned. In fact, he could only see about half of her face from the way she hid the lower half behind her pulled-up knees. But her eyes crinkled enough that he could see that she was smiling.

The soft smile on his face was a stark contrast to the sharp palpitations of his heart in his chest. Before, he could never imagine the face he was speaking to across the phone—rather, it had always just been a person with blurred features. Now that he could put a face to the name, and the voice, and the character…

Intak saved the picture and set it as Yn’s contact photo. He wondered if he should have even been doing this since Jae didn’t even have a contact photo saved for her. (But now that she had sent it, it wasn’t like Intak was going to resist setting that photo as her contact, especially since it was an excuse to stare at it while he was texting her.)

jae’s phone: that photo is not fair that’s like… half ur face dude >://// /j

jae’s phone: but thank uuuuuuu i KNEW u were cute

He chewed on his bottom lip, quickly adding onto his previous texts since it seemed like Yn wasn’t going to reply back any time soon.

jae’s phone: ik ur the one who suggested swapping photos, but i hope u didn’t feel obligated to. ik u were never super comfortable w sharing personal info abt urself w me, but i’m genuinely really happy to get to know u better

jae’s phone: lol idk y that got kinda sappy ? but i hope everything’s good on ur end!!

jae’s phone: i’ve gotta go to a dance lesson rn tho so ttyl ynieee!!!!

Intak sighed as he forced himself to click out of his and Yn’s direct messages, and to haul his ass off the couch. He had, at multiple instances, contemplated why he felt so attached to Yn. Perhaps it was because she was so close to his brother and this truly was just his own kind of closure. Or it was something else, too.

Yn's eyes burned holes through the notifications that sat at the top of her phone screen. It had been several hours since Intak had sent them, and she knew exactly what they said. She'd even mentally written out and sent several replies, but never physically carried them out. She just couldn't bring herself to do it.

The heavy weight that had settled on her chest from a day ago still rested there. Usually, privileged shit Summit kids did to her and in front of her were annoying, but she'd learned to grow thick skin. She didn't know why this time affected her so poorly. Then again, the fact that neither Jongseob nor Shota had gotten over it could have contributed to her own mood, too.

Her brothers in arms had been quiet since then, barely speaking unless necessity prevailed. The shop had never been so quiet before, and even when customers and neighbors came by with a friendly word or joke, they would force a smile onto their faces or a laugh from their throats. She could hear the strain, the grudge and emotions tugging at the corners of their mouths.

"If I had the money…" Yn remembered hearing Jongseob muttering under his breath the night of the incident. She knew exactly what he was thinking then and there. All the bitterness in the negative space.

They'd all grown to have thick skin, but it was bound to crack at some point. They weren't made of steel, after all.

After a long, grueling day at the shop, Yn, Shota, and Jongseob returned to Yn's house to wash up for the evening. The walk home had been quiet, and she'd been itching to reach for her phone and finally open up Intak's messages…

She cleared her throat. "Go get cleaned up and meet me in the living room," she voiced aloud to the two of them as she unlocked the front door.

Jongseob grunted, "Why?"

"We're watching Clueless."

Shota let out a snort as Jongseob threw his head back in a loud groan. "You're shitting me. Any other movie than that one, Yn. We've watched that, like, fifteen times."

With her back still to them, she could let herself smile just a little. All she had been looking for was that reaction from him. "Okay, well, if you can be on the couch in fifteen minutes, then you can choose a different—"

She hadn't even finished what she was saying when the two of them bolted past her, exclaiming at each other as they raced for access to the closest bathroom. Yn laughed under her breath, nudging the door closed behind her with the toe of her shoe. She hadn't even been sure whether or not the two would stay here with her or not since they basically stayed shut up in the old extra bedroom instead of hanging out. Though they would have been in the house, it had sounded like no one else was home.

But now? Yn made her way into the kitchen to get dinner started. Hopefully she could get something on the stove by the time one of them hopped out of the shower. Knowing Jongseob though…

She estimated that it was about five minutes later that Jongseob's elephant stomps sounded down the hall, nearing the living room and kitchen at high speed. Seconds later, a blur of orange and white launched himself over the back of the couch. As she expected, it was Jongseob with that freshly showered glow, damp hair, and a white towel hanging around his shoulders.

Her amused gaze clashed with his, and though his face was pressed into a deadpan, she saw the glimmer in his irises. He told her, "We're watching Star Wars."

Yn grinned. "Deal's a deal, kid."

Right on cue, Shota came sliding into the living room with his dampened locks tied up and out of his face with a Hello Kitty hair tie he no doubt found in the drawers of the bathroom. She wondered how he found stuff like that, stuff that she had ditched so long ago when she was much younger. She raised her eyebrows at him. “I’m starting to think that neither of you actually use soap when you shower.”

“I’m productive when I’m given motive,” Shota replied, collapsing onto the couch next to Jongseob. She could already hear the tell-tale explosion of sound that was the Star Wars main theme.

It was several hours later when dinner was eaten, dishes were washed, and the lot of them were one and a half Star Wars movies in that Yn stared at her notifications again. Intak hadn't sent anything else since those last messages, and there was a distinct feeling of guilt stewing in the back of her brain. At this point, it overpowered any feelings of annoyance or bitterness from the other day's incident. It was always at evening hours when the overthinking started.

Intak had been good to her thus far, though, and it wasn't fair that she took out her annoyance on him. He had done nothing bad—a part of her countered with “yet.”

She could see the start of his messages: That photo's like half your face dude… I've got to go to a dance lesson though so…

It was all completely harmless, and yet, her heart pounded in her chest from not being able to fully read his reaction to her face reveal. Of course she cared what he thought. She chalked it up to the fact that Intak himself was a pretty face, and it was perfectly normal to be self conscious.

Yn raised her head for a moment when she caught a flash of quick movement from the TV, then felt a pair of eyes on her.

While Shota was curled up at the far end of the couch, Jongseob was seated next to her and saw who's messages sat at the top of her screen. The two of them connected gazes; he said nothing, showed nothing.

A different type of guilt rushed into her head.

Jongseob turned back to the screen, and she was back to square one.

The house was quiet by the time Yn tucked her friends beneath quilts on the couch. Her mom had come home sometime between Return of the Jedi and The Phantom Menace, then crashed immediately after disappearing into her room, leaving Yn to haunt the hallways of her house in the dark and silence by herself.

She perched on the edge of her bed with the light of her phone screen illuminating her face. There were those unread messages at the top of her screen again, yelling at her to just take a peak. There was no harm in seeing what he said—but there was. He would see the Read sign beneath his messages and think the worst.

With nothing else stopping her but her own thoughts, she tapped the notification.

The text chain opened up before her in full. There was nothing out of the ordinary, as she expected. He was just being his bright, sweet self here. Her lips pursed into a slight smile as she read over his sappy talk at the end; it was appreciated though.

But now it was a matter of replying.

He probably thought she was busy all day again, but the guilt of “punishing” him for something that people from his community did and not him personally was eating her up inside.

“Ahem.”

She stopped, eyes widening as her head shot up like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. A drowsy Jongseob stood in her doorway with his eyes at half-mast and his mouth widened in a yawn. Sometimes she forgot that her friend was still a kid—that they were all just kids. “Hey,” she whispered to him. “Did I wake you up or something?”

He shook his head and suddenly looked a lot more awake. “The text messages you got earlier,” he drawled, inclining his chin at her phone.

“Oh.” She glanced down at the screen, then back up at him. “Seob, I—”

“He's gonna hurt you, Yn.”

Her chest felt so hollow all of a sudden. What?

He folded his arms in front of himself, cupping his palms under his elbows. Jongseob's eyebrows furrowed together as if in thought or in an attempt to look firm. “He's gonna hurt you like Jae did.”

No, the hollow feeling was because her heart fell into the pit of her stomach. Everything felt like it was falling out from under her with that statement. Yn said slowly, gently, “Jongseob, Jae didn't mean to hurt us. He didn't mean to get sick. He couldn't control it, Seob. You know that that's not fair.”

Sometimes it was hard to not let the anger seep through into blame and misunderstanding. That was just the grief talking. When those thoughts resurfaced, it was just as difficult to deal with the resulting guilt of ever blaming them later on.

Losing someone was just devastating.

Jongseob sniffled though, and she backtracked on her previous thought. But this wasn't that, was it? “Yeah, well—it seems whether they do it on purpose or not, that's all they do up there: hurt people.”

Her mouth felt so dry then, so helplessly wordless. Her throat was just as voiceless. These kids—her friends—had gone through all that pain just as she had. She couldn't blame them most of the time because she knew where they were coming from.

Jongseob poked his tongue in his cheek. “I know you miss him.”

Yn's fingers curled around the edges of her phone, like she could hold onto whoever was on the other side.

“I miss him, too,” he said.

A stinging sensation erupted in the corners of her eyes and she reached up to staunch the tears like they were cuts, and they were bleeding.

“But no matter their intention, a ghost can only haunt,” he muttered. He let that thought simmer for a second before citing his source, “Got that one off of Pinterest.”

The last comment made a laugh sputter out of her mouth, wet but touched. She sniffled at the same time he did. “I was gonna say,” she said, her voice watery, “when'd you get so smart?”

“I've always been smart,” he scoffed. He exhaled, still lingering on the threshold before waddling over to where she was perched on the bed. Awkwardly, he brought his arms around her upper body and gently patted her back. “Is this helping?”

Yn wrapped her arms around him to reciprocate. “Yeah.”

“Thank god.”

A ghost can only haunt. Maybe it was how fast it had all happened that none of them really got proper closure or got to say goodbye. They would never get a chance to see him ever again, to tell him they felt something for him close to love, and enjoyed his company despite his being from the Summit. There was no chance they'd be invited to the funeral, and there was little possibility of ever visiting his grave. There were only memories and a phone number.

One day he was here, and the next… well the next, Yn was texting Intak. Was this history repeating itself, or would this ending turn into a new beginning entirely?

When they both pulled back from their embrace, Jongseob poked her cheek. “You know I never know what to do when you cry, right?”

She reached up to swipe her palm across her dampened cheeks. “Yeah. You did good, kid.”

That made the corners of his mouth curl up a bit. “I just don't want this guy to be another reason you cry.”

« prev · m.list · next »

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @kaaimins @shakalakaboomboo @bless-311 @leaz-kpop-life @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @haechansbbg @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @mars101

series taglist: @kikookii @an0rexiccat @yvesrythingg

#p1harmony x reader #hwang intak x reader #p1harmony oneshot #p1harmony scenarios #p1harmony imagines #hwang intak oneshot #hwang intak imagines #hwang intak scenarios #p1harmony fanfic #p1harmony fluff #p1harmony angst

90 notes · View notes