#what happens after is absolutely important. it's why so much time is put into preparing these characters for adulthood

[stayconnecteed]

❪⠀🪐.⠀𓏔⠀types of kisses with stray kids⠀❫

☆ㅤot8 imagine (bf!skz x reader)⠀★⠀12.5k words

warnings: (slightly spoilers) mention of overworking in bangchan's. minho's type of kiss is french kiss (it's self explanatory: suggestive), and also mentions of blood and wounds, nothing too bad, just some scratches. changbin's soft hours, insecure reader, lonely time but fluff everywhere. brief mention of hyunjin's hiatus and covid on his part. nothing to say about han and felix, just fluff. mentions of menstruation on seungmin's, and a lot of insecurities too. a little bit of drama on i.n's, he ignores the reader but it turns out well. let me know if i miss something.

( hii! have a wonderful sunday ♡ )

chan (forehead kiss)

You had spent the whole afternoon locked up at your studio, focused on finishing the last assignment that was due before the end of the semester, avoiding the slight breaks you had promised you would made and returning immediately to collect information and write the final text. You knew the teacher was quite strict, and with your need to make sure your final score in the subject was high enough, you had spent the last days perfecting up even the last detail of the project. It wasn’t the first time you experienced this kind of situation, and since you moved with your boyfriend a few months ago he was now aware of your habits while studying, so after a lot of mistakes and excuses you managed to communicate with each other and get to a dynamic that would allow you to continue with some of your routines without Chris suffering from concern. The truth was that when you entered that state of concentration, little affected you what happened around as long as you were able to fulfill what you had proposed to do that day, and your boyfriend was worried that those habits would end up becoming hurtful for you in some way.

That particular afternoon you couldn’t help but notice Chris’ restlessness as your fingers pressed, fast, the keys of your laptop. Sometimes he had even made you crack a faint smile for his little antics, like filling your cup of coffee when he saw that there was nothing left or peeking through the door of your studio often to see how you were going. It made you feel a little guilty because you knew it was his free day and what he most wanted was to spend it with you, even it was only enjoying the company of the other cuddling in the couch. But you couldn’t allow yourself to put those moments forward when there was a project of such importance that you had to finish, no matter how much you wanted to cuddle with your boyfriend.

And you really wanted. That was your biggest motivation. It was the only reason why when all your work was finally rewarded and you downloaded the finished document, sending it to your teacher’s email, you exhaled a trembling breath and stretched on the chair, noticing how the muscles of your back relaxed after hours tensing over the laptop screen. You turned off the device and closed the studio door carefully not to make noise, deciding that you wouldn’t go back into that room for the rest of the week. You went to the living room with an euphoric smile on your lips, wishing to refuge in your boyfriend’s arms, but you stopped when you saw Chris laying down on the couch with his phone pulled over his chest, and his eyes closed, completely asleep.

You stood against the frame of the door, watching him. It was rare to be able to come across him at such moments of absolute peace and rest, since when you woke up in the morning he was already up and at night you fell asleep before him. You admired him in silence for a few minutes, letting your eyes glim over his relaxed factions, his partially open lips, and the pale freckles barely noticeable on his cheeks. You looked at the time and realized it was quite late, so you left Chris resting in the couch, slowly closed the door and went to the kitchen to prepare something for dinner.

You couldn’t help but hum the last song you had heard your boyfriend work on as you pulled out the ingredients from the cupboard, willing to make jjajangmyeon as quickly as possible, knowing it was one of his favorite meals. You focused on the stoves, selecting the best pieces of bacon for Chris and spliting the food into two bowls. Once placed in the bowl you got the chopsticks after searching a little in the cutlery drawer, and you put two glasses with water. You made the mental note of buying some kind of storage method to separate knives, spoons, and forks, and be able to have the damned drawer somewhat neater, and you went back to the living room sliding your socks on the floor to avoid making any noise. You opened the door carefully and smiled as you listened to Chris’s slight snoring, feeling guilty when you left the bowls on the table in front of the couch, and sat next to him, with the mission of waking him up. You took his phone, keeping it safe next to the tray, and put one of your hands on his chest, feeling the calm beats of his heart.

You laid down slightly on him, caressing his cheek, calling him with a soft voice. “Channie…,” you whispered, sliding your fingertips along his cheekbones, delineating the shapes of his face, “Baby, wake up, it’s time to eat something…”

Chris began to open his eyes lazily, and you couldn’t help but smile when you saw his factions contract in a gesture of confusion, just as if you just had asked him to solve a very difficult math problem.

“YN? Did I fall asleep?” He asked, sliding his arms over your back and wrapping you in a hug. You raised your caresses up to his chaotic curls and mumbled a little assent noise, letting the warm atmosphere you two where wrapped in cover you completely. You loved those moments with him. They were the perfect reward for so many hours of work. And you knew he thought the same. “What time is it? I was going to prepare something for you so that you could take a break and we have some dinner together.”

“Don’t worry, love,” you whispered back, noticing how he leaned to your touch, resting his head on your hand, and enjoying your attention, “I delivered the essay a while ago, and I have an entire week for you before I start studying the final exams. The busy afternoons have ended, at least for a few days.”

His gaze lightened, and he broke into a genuine smile that caused you to stir inside. “I’m very proud of you, baby, you are going to have a very high grade on that test.” You changed posture, straddling Chris’ hips, hugging him, and rested your cheek over his chest, taking advantage of his body heat like some kind of stove. “What do you think, should we… plan something? To celebrate? You and I on a little trip, alone, as soon as my free days coincide with your holidays?”

You raised your head, delighted. “Seriously?”

“Of course. I want to have you all for myself,” he said, suppressing a laugh, and increasing his grip on you, still with his arms around you.

You made him squirm with tickles, “I also want you all for myself, as long as we can,” you said, leaning back on his chest. “Oh, the jjajangmyeon is cooling, we should eat it now.”

Chris closed his eyes and released a sigh, smiling. “You did jjajangmyeon? After all the afternoon working? God, I don’t deserve you.”

You let out a laugh that made your chest vibrate with his, and you rested your forehead on his, “You deserve this and more, Channie. You were sleeping, it was the least I could do after ruining your free day”

“You could never ruin anything,” he protested, running his fingers through your hair almost without realizing, just because he knew it calmed you as much as it did to him. “Can we stay like this for a while?” Chris asked, waiting for your answer. As soon as he felt you nod against his chest, he let his body relax, kissing your forehead softly, and he couldn’t help but think that he wanted to stay like that forever.

minho (french kiss)

Minho was tired. It was barely nine o'clock at night, but he had had to get up early to record a song that Han had proposed him to sing at the company, and the morning kept him busy with his MC job. If he had time to eat it was because he let himself be kidnapped by Felix with the excuse that he wanted to perfect an old choreography, but with the imminent concerts he ended up rehearsing for hours steps that he knew without the necessary practice wouldn't come out as clean as he wished. When the company car dropped him off in front of your apartment, it took him a lifetime to get out and walk the few meters of sidewalk, to reach up and force the key in the lock, and even to press the button for your floor in the elevator. But he was rewarded when he opened the door and was greeted by that atmosphere he so adored and was beginning to call home: the soft sounds of something frying in the pan, light notes of your favorite perfume that he inhaled as he hung his coat next to yours, and your voice humming softly from the kitchen. He let out a sigh, managing a faint smile, and set his backpack down in the entryway, announcing that he had just arrived.

He decided to take a shower first to make some time while you finished dinner, and couldn't help but follow the rhythm of the song you were crooning, walking down the hallway to your room and choosing some of the clothes you always had ready in your closet for these occasions. If his usual residence was the dorm he shared with Felix, I.N and Seungmin, in his spare time he divided his time between his parents' home, where his cats lived, and your apartment. Even so, he was usually able to sneak away for the occasional night to sleep next to you, and enjoy your company. He always gave you advance notice, but every once in a while you woke up with your boyfriend's cheek pressed against your belly, and his arms around your waist, protesting when you pretended to get up and muttering something along the lines that he didn't have a schedule in the morning. Those days you took advantage of your comfortable work from home and decided to give up, snuggling closer to Minho, and enjoying each other for hours talking about nonsense. Then he would take over your kitchen and prepare the latest recipe that had caught his eye while you rambled on about ideas you had for your future projects, giving him back hugs from time to time and kissing his shoulder blades with the greatest delicacy in the world.

As he washed his hair he couldn't help but miss the way you stroked it when you cuddled, an activity you practiced very often because it always relaxed him when he had had a bad day. He decided to ask you to do that when, after dinner, as he knew was going to happen, you begged him to watch at least one episode of that series you had started last week. It was in English, and although he was sure you would put the audio in Korean if he asked, he was content to program the subtitles in his language while you finished the dishes. He always fell asleep anyway. It's not that he wasn't interested, but your presence soothed him inside, and he couldn't help but enter a mental space of total relaxation when he rested his head on your lap at that time of night.

When he got out of the shower, he put the towel over his head, still without the energy to pull his arms up high enough to remove the moisture from his hair, and headed to your room to get dressed with the clothes he had left on your bed. The clothes felt extremely soft and gentle against his skin, and he let out the closest thing to a purr, which made him smile with his eyes closed. His clothes smelled like you, and he understood, with a pleasant warmth settling in his chest, why you were always asking him for hoodies and t-shirts: it was like taking you with him. Not just you, but everything you represented: warmth, joy, comfort. His steps were quiet and slow as he walked towards the kitchen, still absorbed in his thoughts. In was then that he registered the smell of japchae, your signature dish, which you made when you had had a good day, even if you did it unconsciously. Minho thought it was adorable, and he didn't plan to unveil your method of celebration, because he always felt better to see you so happy, and besides he was used to cooking it himself ーhe wasn't going to complain about enjoying a meal that he didn't prepare and that also came out so delicious.

Minho collapsed into one of the comfortable, cushioned chairs you had purchased relatively recently in an attempt to redecorate your apartment. He let out a sigh and folded his arms on the table, resting his head on them, with no energy to do anything but watch you dancing around the kitchen getting everything ready to serve dinner. Your boyfriend was an observant person by nature, and usually preferred to stay out of the way so he could get the full picture of any situation he was involved in. With his groupmates and loved ones he tended to loosen up more, and would bring out his bubbly, fun-loving personality. But at times like this, he was very grateful to have you in his life. With you he could spend hours laughing nonstop at a joke that wasn't even that funny, but you ended up fooling around so much that your eyes would sparkle with tears. And he would laugh with you because seeing you smile so genuinely made his heart fuzzy.

When he saw you approaching the cupboard to get the bowls, he rushed to help you, but you dropped them when you noticed the presence of someone at your back, with your pulse racing.

"MINHO!" you exclaimed, almost breathless, startled.

He was almost as surprised as you were, until he tucked a lock of hair that had come loose from your bun behind your ear and realized that all this time you had been listening to music with your airpods, oblivious to the fact that he had come home.

"How long have you been here?" you asked, after giving him a playful punch on the arm.

Minho gestured for you not to move as he went to grab a broom and move the pieces of broken porcelain away from your feet, and that's when you noticed you had a few cuts on your bare skin.

"Enough time to give me a good shower" he murmured, a smile playing on his lips, finding your clumsiness adorable. You both stood in silence, him picking up the mess you'd left on the floor, and you disconnecting your airpods. Once you saw that he had finished, you tried to grab another two bowls to divide the japchae you had left on the unlit stoves, but Minho took you in his arms, ignoring the silent protests of his exhausted muscles, and carried you over his shoulder, letting out a stifled chuckle at your surprised yelp. "I'll take care of the rest of dinner," he announced, ignoring your demands to let you be. Once he had gently set you down on the couch, you frowned at him in an adorable attempt to look angry.

"You know I didn't drop the bowls on purpose, don't you?" you told him, slipping irony into your words. "I think I'll be able to dish up the food."

"I don't think so," he replied, a satisfied smile plastered on his lips, "you're hurt."

Your frown deepened as you looked down at your feet and realized that as the bowls smashed against the floor, some pieces had scratched your skin, and you now had fine bloody lines on your skin. There weren't many, and you knew they wouldn't sting if you let them heal, but it was also clear to you that Minho and his eternal concern for you weren't going to let you get away with it. So you just sighed as he got up to get the first aid kit you kept in the bathroom.

He handled you carefully on his return, leaving a clean towel, the band-aids and a bottle of water on the side table, and resting your legs in his lap. His touch was gentle as he stroked your feet to check how much pain you were feeling, and although you had assumed the scratches were nothing, you did gasp when he put pressure on them. You rested your head on his shoulder and clung to his arm as he cleaned the cuts, and you closed your eyes tightly, hissing. Once he had placed a couple of band-aids over the deeper wounds, he stroked your cheek.

"Did you cry?"

"Oh, hush."

Minho managed an almost imperceptible smile, and moved his shoulder just enough for you to pull away from him.

"Not a word." you warned him.

"I don't know what you're talking about" he replied, looking away, "I was just going to tell you what happened today at dance practice..."

You nodded, as he spoke, both of you leaning back on the couch, and let his voice wash over you. You obviously had a good time when he talked to you about what he had done in his day, especially since most of the time you didn't even have time to eat together, so you took full advantage of the dinners, and the cuddle sessions in front of the TV, and the conversations you had snuggled under the covers. But there were times when you would delight in just looking at him. Watching his eyes sparkle as he talked about those boys who meant so much to him, and the new choreographies he planned for the songs composed by 3racha, or the videos his mother sent him of his cats. And not only that, but to have the freedom to look at him, openly, and absorb all the details of his face, which seemed so beautiful to you.

Without warning, you rested one of your hands on his cheek and brought his face to you, connecting your lips in a kiss. Minho let out a surprised squeak, but immediately followed through, moving his mouth along with yours, letting his hand wander from your legs over his lap to your hip. The position was slightly uncomfortable, but it didn't stop you from enjoying each other's warmth, in a slow, soft make-out session. You felt yourself melt against him as he gave your lower lip a little nibble which made you gasp, and he took the opportunity to make the kiss messier by slipping his tongue in, letting it dance next to yours, swirling around to the rhythm of your panting breaths. And just when you thought you'd run out of air, Minho pulled away from you just a few inches, gazing adoringly at you.

"What was that?" he asked, still stunned by your sudden actions.

"I don't know, I just wanted to kiss you" you told him, nuzzling back into his chest. He felt his ears turn slightly red, and was thankful you couldn't see it. "I love you, Min. Keep telling me what Hyunjin did next" you asked him. And of course, he was never able to deny you anything, so he continued with the anecdote, a lovesick smile plastered on his face.

changbin (hand kiss)

You had never been a morning person. If you had to get up early it was because of your job, and you could only face the day after a good cup of coffee circulating through your system. And on weekends you didn't get up until almost lunchtime, taking advantage of every last bit of rest you could get in bed. But that aversion to mornings changed when, after more than half a year of relationship, your boyfriend asked you to move in with him. Since then, just the thought of knowing that as soon as you opened your eyes you would be able to enjoy Changbin's beautiful features, every day was a day you started in a good mood.

That didn't stop the nights from being bad. That Friday in particular you had not been able to join the get-together that your friends had organized at that new club where they happened to play your favorite songs, and not only were you angry with your boss for having you working until late in overtime that you were not going to get paid for, but also your boyfriend was going to get home very late because he had a very busy recording schedule that night. So everything seemed to get worse when, after being the last one at the office to close, you missed the bus. And then you had to endure the fifteen-minute subway ride in rush hour, surrounded by people until anxiety made you get off at a stop that wasn't even yours. Walking back to your apartment calmed you down a bit, but your boots were killing your feet and you couldn't wait to get home to take them off.

Lucky you have an elevator, you think. And you let your tote bag slide down your shoulder until it drops to the floor, hurrying to slide the zippers of your new platform boots and let out a sigh of relief when you stop feeling the pressure on your heels. For sure Changbin is going to tease you for not listening to him when he told you to wear them around the home a bit to get your foot used to them, and also because he got mad at you (jokingly, of course) for buying footwear that made you taller than him. But he's not going to be around to greet you when you get home, so you pick up your boots and tote bag from the floor once the elevator reaches your floor, and you manage to get inside your home, leaning your back against the closed door and letting yourself drop to the floor, massaging your feet with your eyes closed.

You knew you were on the verge of a breakdown. You hated being alone in general, but after a day like the one you'd had, all you needed was a hug and words of reassurance, someone to tell you that everything was okay, and that even if it wasn't, you'd eventually get to that point. But the apartment was dark, and you felt an void in your chest. You had left the mental breakdowns phase when your college days were over, but every once in a while you would have those moments when you would start crying about the situation that made you explode and end up sobbing, almost unable to breathe, for everything you blamed yourself for in your life, and for every flaw that your mirror reflected. And it usually happened when you were alone.

You considered joining your friends, who must have been drunk by now, but even that made you too lazy. So you remembered what Changbin had recommended you to do when he first saw you this bad, and you prepared a bath. You poured in your favorite salts and dived in as deep as you wanted, knowing that you were in no hurry. When you got out you were more relaxed, and after doing your skincare and drying your hair well, you sought shelter under the covers of your shared bed. You soaked in the warmth and softness, and cried as you wished you could live in that moment forever, with no sunrises, no responsibilities, no negative thoughts about yourself. Just you, with a calm mind, those sheets that still smelled of Changbin, and the chance to start from scratch again and again.

But, like every new day, morning came, although this time as soon as you woke up you wanted to go back to sleep. You felt like your head was going to explode, and the crack of light coming through the blinds bothered you to no end. You sighed, knowing that hiding under the sheets was not going to do any good, and you made the attempt to get up, oblivious to the person sleeping next to you. As soon as you sat up, you saw yourself falling back onto the bed, and you let out an involuntary laugh. Changbin had you trapped in his arms and, even in your sleep, he kept you close to him, as if he was afraid that you would leave him at any moment.

You let him be, completely forgetting the light and your headache, and turned to face him, appreciating the delicacy of his skin, and how good it felt in contact with yours. You buried your face in the crook of your boyfriend's neck, enjoying the moment, knowing that you were feeding off these instants to survive when you were at your worst. You heard Changbin clearing his throat, probably with a slightly tired voice from the previous night's schedule, and waited for him to say something.

"Good morning, princess.”

You closed your eyes as you listened to his husky tone, and noticed how he loosened his arms around you a little when he realized how tightly he was holding you.

"Good morning, handsome," you said to him, your lips brushing against his collarbone while you spoke. "Were you very late last night?"

"I think it was like two in the morning or something," he answered you, still without opening his eyes.

"I got off work at midnight" you told him, shifting your posture slightly, resting your head on your hand so you could watch him.

"If you take a picture it lasts longer" he warned you, before opening his eyes and cracking a grin that made your heart skip a beat.

"You know that if you tell me I'll do it."

"I'm not willing to let you go get the phone, you're better off here."

And silence fell between you again. You had never felt as at peace as you did whenever you had Changbin around. And you knew he felt the same way you did, because he never tired of telling you that every time you doubted you were worthy of someone's love. Or whenever he got the chance, in general. You were perfectly capable of spending the whole morning like that, entangled in your bed, taking advantage of the quietness that you had on Saturdays when he had nothing to do. The rest of the week was chaos, with your endless hours of work and his practices and hours locked in the studio with Bangchan and Han. You had an even harder time in the weeks leading up to the comebacks, and remembering that just made you replay the night before on your head, and how you had felt when you got home.

"You're frowning," your boyfriend commented to you. "Do you want to talk about yesterday?"

You opened your eyes, surprised. Changbin had been tracing your features with his gaze.

"Y-yesterday?"

"When I came back, I noticed you'd used the bathtub and forgot to tidy up the bathroom. That only happens when you're in a sad mood. And your eyes are puffy."

Instead of letting shame eat you away, you felt your heart swell at your boyfriend's words. You weren't going to let your stupid intrusive thoughts spoil such a nice thing as the moment Changbin had just had with you: he knew you well enough to notice such things, he loved you, and he chose to stick with you every day because of it. Still, you felt guilty for not cleaning the bathroom, so you whispered a weak "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize for anything, my love," he told you, "you know I love doing things for you. If it were up to me, my baby wouldn't lift a finger, especially if you have me to do it for you."

You let him hold you again, resting your head on his chest, and sighed.

"Are you okay?"

You took his hand and brought it to your lips, leaving a soft kiss on the back of it before laying it back on your belly, and replied, looking up at him with a smile and eyes sparkling with love:

"Now I am."

hyune (flying kiss)

Your mother used to talk about how much you and Hyunjin fooled around when you were little. If someone had to tell an anecdote in which either of you were involved, it was certain that at least 70% of them would mention the other. You were two sides of the same coin, and you didn't know a world where the other wasn't at least a phone call away. When he had a hard time, you had a hard time; and when you cried, he cried with you. You had been together from the beginning, and many times you had sworn to be together until the end. And that's why nobody could explain why it had taken you so long to realize how much in love you were.

You had lived through the whole process of Hyunjin becoming an idol, and he had been by your side even when his busy schedule didn't allow him just so he could comfort you when your father passed away, and when that boy had broken your heart in high school. The members of Stray Kids had learned early on to love you as one of their own, and they still remembered how Hyunjin had threatened to never speak to them again if they were unkind to you or hurt you in any way. You were extremely protective of the other one, and if people gave you a choice between anyone and each other, you were very clear that you would choose each other a thousand times over. You had been the one who had spent a month's salary on blank canvases and the most varied set of brushes and colors possible when Hyunjin had developed an interest in art, and he had been the one who had gotten VIP tickets as soon as your favorite singer had announced concert dates in Seoul.

And as obsessed as you were with each other, it had taken you years and the passage of covid through your lives to realize how much the absence of each other in your lives was hurting you. You had called him one day in the a.m. when he was practicing a dance for the Korean program his group was going to perform in, and you had confessed how in love you were with him. And he had laughed, understanding the idiots you had been, and reciprocated your feelings after running out of the company to your apartment. That night you kissed for the first time, and cuddled together in your bed, feeling complete, because you had finally understood what was missing.

After that night, Hyunjin practically lived at your dorm. When the bullying scandal was announced, he spent part of his hiatus with you and part with his parents. And you took a leave of absence from your job for the first few weeks so that he wouldn't be left alone even once. Every time you had the house to yourself and noticed the changes he had made in your absence, you smiled at the new mural on the living room wall, or the boxes the delivery man had left in the entryway that were probably decorations for your room or matching clothes, even though you had insisted you would rather steal his than dress the same. Your relationship didn't change at all since the confession. You still laughed the same, cried the same and argued the same.

That morning, like most mornings, you had struggled to wake him up. You had stayed up late the night before, finishing preparations for a presentation you were going to be giving at work, and you were very nervous. Hyunjin had insisted on staying with you, changing playlists when the songs didn't convince him and working on a track Bangchan had sent him to write lyrics to. You knew the next morning was going to be difficult, but you didn't mind because his mere presence relaxed you and helped you concentrate on the Power Point. Right now his presence (or rather, his absence) was getting on your nerves, because you were making breakfast and there was no sign of your boyfriend. You were both running late.

"HYUNJIN!" you exclaimed, pouring coffee into two cups.

Then he decided to come into the kitchen, still half asleep, and in his pajamas. When he leaned down to kiss you good morning, you refused.

"What's wrong?"

"I warned you twenty minutes ago," you told him, finishing your toast and wrapping his, because you knew he wasn't going to have time to eat it at home. "Now you're not going to have time to do anything but to get dressed, we were supposed to be out the door five minutes ago!"

"Honey, I told you, the boys already know I'm late, so you don't..."

"I know that, baby," you replied, interrupting him in the same tone but in an ironic way, with your index finger under his chin so he could see the way you were looking at him, "but I don't know if you remember that you asked me to drive you today specifically and that I have a presentation first thing in the morning."

"Oh, shit."

"Yep, oh, shit."

You repressed a smile as you watched him rush out of the kitchen to grab the first sporty outfit he saw in your closet and you picked up his thermos to pour his coffee in there and clean the mug you'd just used. You left his breakfast ready on the table once you drank your coffee, and ran to put your laptop in your bag, checking that you had everything ready. He was still locked in the bathroom for quite a while and by the time you left the house, you had already called one of your coworkers ーwho happened to also be one of your best friendsー to get you a few minutes if anyone was asking for you.

You opened the front door and almost missed Hyunjin running ahead of you, hurrying down the stairs two at a time towards the garage. You sighed, grabbing the breakfast you had prepared for him knowing he would forget, and went down after him, trying to match the speed of his very long legs. You put the car in motion in record time and drove through the streets of Seoul, respecting the safety limits, looking at the clock every time a red light stopped your race, until you arrived in front of the company where Hyunjin worked and quickly pulled into the parking lot. Your boyfriend opened the car door while it was still in gear and jumped out, breakfast in one hand and his bag in the other.

"Thanks for breakfast! I love you!" he exclaimed, walking away from the car.

"Baby! What about my goodbye kiss?"

Hyunjin's eyes formed two crescent moons as he smiled, and he slung his bag at full speed, to leave his hand free so he could blow a kiss at you. You pretended to catch it before leaving the parking lot, stuffing it in the pocket your blazer had on your chest and shouting "I love you too!" back.

Years later, your mother would still confirm to anyone who asked that you and Hyunjin were chaos whenever you were together, but since you were two dorks in love, nobody cared.

han (neck kiss)

You had told Han that you were going to be late, and not to wait up for you, although you knew he wouldn't listen. That night was a night of celebration, and even though you had to work the next day, it was worth it. Your best friend had gotten an amazing job offer in the USA a few years ago and since she had moved there, you saw her a lot less than you would like to. You had made some of your vacation days coincide with your boyfriend's American tour and the two of you had gone together to his band's concert after spending the whole day visiting the city. She had shown you her favorite places, and also those places she knew you would love.

This time she had traveled all the way to Seoul, the first time you had seen each other since her promotion had been announced, and although it was a business trip, she had set aside an entire afternoon for you. The plan was simple, and quite improvised. First you had eaten together at a very good restaurant that Changbin had recommended, and then you caught up at a coffee shop near your work that you frequented on your breaks. It was a very special place for you because you had worked there for a couple of years while studying at the university, and it was also where you had met Jisung.

You told your friend how he had walked in with Hyunjin and Seungmin and hadn't opened his mouth not even once while they were placing orders. At that time they had debuted less than a year ago, and you were more of a fan of girl kpop groups anyway, so you had no idea who they were. As you were heading towards their table with the three coffees, you heard how Jisung and Hyunjin were arguing, though you didn't know what about. What you didn't expect was that Jisung would suddenly get up at the same moment you picked up his cup and set it down in front of him. Two seconds later you both had your shirts soaked in coffee, the tray was on the floor and there was a mess of shattered glass at your feet, while he was apologizing. You heard Hyunjin say something along the lines of "Since you spilled coffee on her you could finally ask for her number, you have nothing left to lose", and Jisung turned to give him a murderous glare before apologizing one last time and practically running away. Seungmin went after him after letting out a tired sigh, and left it to Hyunjin to pay for the damage.

You remembered the conversation perfectly. The idol had followed you around the establishment asking you how much the broken glasses were worth while you were looking for what you needed to clean up the mess. You had made a dismissive gesture with your hand and told him that it was okay, that it was your fault. However, when he gave you the same order but for takeaway, you couldn't help but ask which of the three was for Jisung. Instead of putting his name on the cup, as you had done with the other two, you managed to write 'for the cute guy I spilled coffee on. next one's on me' and your number. Hyunjin's eyes sparkled when he saw it and asked you if you wanted him to record his reaction to reading it, because you were going to make his day. You let out a laugh, and six dates later you were together.

After a couple of treats at the mall and a cab ride full of laughter, it was time to say goodbye to your friend. You looked at the time on your phone as you walked up the stairs and smiled when you realized that your boyfriend had sent you a couple of messages throughout the afternoon asking how everything was going. You opened the door as slowly as possible to avoid making noise in case he was already sleeping. You left your bag and coat in the hall closet, halfway ditching your shoes and leaving the bags on the kitchen table. On your way to the living room, you saw the TV still on with the words "game over" flashing on the screen and Jisung slumped on the couch with the console controller on his chest. As usual, he had insisted on waiting up for you. And as usual, he had fallen completely asleep.

You turned off the TV and approached him, running your fingers through his hair, combing his bangs in soft caresses, enjoying seeing his features so relaxed, and the little pout on his lips that filled you with tenderness. You decided to continue with your nightly routine when you noticed that he was already in his pajamas, so he wouldn't have to fully wake up on the way from the couch to the bed.

You stepped into the shower to relax after such a busy day and smiled with your eyes closed as you felt the warm water running down your back. You didn't usually take long in the bathroom unless you had to wash your hair, but shopping always made you very tired and even though the company was to your liking, as you left the mall you couldn't wait to get home to curl up in your boyfriend's arms and rest.

Within two minutes of getting out of the shower, as you were taking out your skincare products, wrapped in a towel and with a few droplets of water still on your shoulders, the bathroom door opened and Jisung appeared with narrowed eyes. Without a word he stood behind you as you watched him through the mirror and wrapped his arms around you, clinging to you in a back hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"Hey, baby" you called to him, your voice soft.

He nodded his head slightly, not fully awakening, but giving you to understand that he was listening to you.

"How about you wait for me in bed? I'll be done in a minute."

You felt him deny as you began to apply the products to your face, and paused when you heard an unintelligible mumbling.

"What was that, bubs? I didn't hear right" you asked him.

"I missed you today" he repeated, opening his eyes slightly and making eye contact with you through the mirror. "How did it go?"

"I missed you a lot too" you replied, your hands busy with creams and toners as you spoke. "We were talking about you, actually. We went to the coffee shop where I worked" You cracked a smile as you watched his cheeks turn a reddish shade, knowing what you were going to say next, "Do you remember the day we met?"

You heard a noise of protest while you washed your hands and how he tightened his grip on your waist, reluctant to let you go now that you had brought up a memory he considered as shameful as it was lovely.

"I almost killed Hyunjin that day," he whispered, voice somewhat hoarse from having been asleep. "Until Changbin told me to calm down and I read what the coffee cup said, I swear it nearly killed him for exposing myself like that in front of you." You put both hands over your boyfriend's on your belly and smiled when he continued with the sentence he always said, "Luckily the pretty girl at the coffee shop found me cute enough to date me."

"And here we are" you told him, closing your eyes at his warmth and the touch of his lips against your neck, as light as a feather, in an affectionate gesture that was part of your softer moments.

"And here we are" he repeated, uttering it so close to your throat that it felt like an echo of your own words. And I wouldn't trade it for the world, you thought as he guided you to your bed to snuggle together and sleep entangled, just like every night.

felix (nose rub/kiss)

That night you had gone to bed a little late. Not that it had been a special day or anything like that, but when you had entered the lobby of the company your boyfriend worked for with the intention of finishing a couple of documents while you were waiting for him, Minho was leaning against one of the walls with his phone. As soon as he looked up from the screen, he approached you with a smile and the intention of asking you how you had been. Of all Felix's group members, Minho was probably the one you got along with the best. At the beginning of your relationship with your boyfriend, when you had only gone on three or four dates, he had been the first Stray Kids member you had met. After spending the afternoon together, you had accompanied Felix to his apartment and Minho had caught you making out in front of the door. Instead of embarrassing Felix or giving you a hard time, he had smiled and invited you in to enjoy some pudding while you introduced yourself.

Hyunjin had always protested and defended that if Minho had adopted you as his protégée was because it was clear that Felix was very much in love with you, and because you shared with your boyfriend the sunshine privileges he had with the whole group. It wasn't until much later that you discovered, thanks to a Twitter thread, that the fact that Minho had shared a pudding with you meant that you were very important to him. And since you didn't understand why, as you barely knew each other, the next day you bought a box of puddings of the same brand he had given you and asked Felix to give it to him on your behalf. Of course, that gesture only enhanced Minho's image of you. Since then you had developed a beautiful friendship of which both you and your boyfriend were very proud.

But due to your work, you had been a couple of weeks with no signs of life. When you arrived, Felix was sleeping, and when you left, it was still some time left until his alarm would buzz. That weekend the chaos was over, and you wanted to make the most of every second by his side. That's why you had gone to pick him up from work unannounced. And that's why Minho was complaining to you that you had abandoned him. By the time Felix showed up, his hair still damp from the shower he had taken in the gym, you had already given Minho a summary of the last few weeks and he had told you how things were going and how his cats were doing. The older idol slyly pulled away when he watched Felix's eyes light up as he registered your presence and ran up to you to wrap you in a hug and shower your face with kisses.

"Hi, YN" greeted Chris behind the little ray of sunshine you held in your arms, "Long time no see."

You returned the smile he had graced you with, although without dimples, and replied "Work held me kind of hostage."

That made the leader let out a laugh, and squeezed your arm affectionately.

"Want to go to dinner? My treat?"

Felix asked you with a look, fearing that you would accept out of good nature, even if you didn't feel like it, but you stroked the back of his neck to reassure him.

"No problem" you said, smiling. "I'd appreciate a good distraction right now."

"Are we expecting someone else, hyung?" asked Felix, intertwining your hand with his.

"I think I.N mentioned he would be joining later, but the rest of the boys are in our dorm."

The walk to the restaurant was loud and lively, like every time Felix was involved in something, and for a moment you allowed yourself to take in the atmosphere around you. You knew you were a little quiet, and that it wasn't very like you, but you also knew that your boyfriend had commented on how exhausted you were, so you hoped you weren't worrying anyone. The autumn weather was making you sensitive, that was all. Seeing how the light was darker than usual, the trees slowly becoming naked, and the noise the leaves made under your feet when you stepped on them. You loved how cold your face became after a simple walk, compared to the warmth of your body under the layers of coats you had put on it before leaving home. And most of all you loved the mischievous smile Felix would put on when he would take your hand unexpectedly and put it in his coat pocket, trying to give you some heat, just like he was doing at that moment.

He made a surprised face when you made eye contact with him and you let out a soft laugh, clinging to him and whispering an innocent "I love you" in his ear.

The place Chris had led you to was quiet but cozy, and you got the feeling that the owners already knew the boys. Minho was the one who was in charge of choosing what you were going to have for dinner, and between bottles of soju and water, and delicious pieces of grilled meat you enjoyed a time full of laughter and anecdotes. You asked Chris to send you the location of the restaurant later, planning to meet up with your friends sometime in the following week, and decided to wait a bit until I.N. arrived, who entered in a hurry and almost out of breath. Dinner was fun, as it always was when you spent time with Stray Kids, and you were even sad to say goodbye when Felix realized what time it was and announced that he wanted to have you all to himself for the rest of the night.

You left the place still with your fingers intertwined, and decided to walk back to your apartment. There was a light breeze blowing that blew your hair all over, and you laughed when you saw that the same thing had happened to Felix. You tried to comb his hair a little with your free hand, but it was a bit difficult because you were wearing gloves. It didn't matter anyway, because the moment you managed to get the strands out of his face, the wind would undo your work. It was when it started to rain that you started to run like teenagers, while passers-by took the opportunity to find shelter in nearby places. When you got home you were soaked, and you shivered up the stairs. You ran to get blankets and towels, discarding your coats and clothes until you were in your underwear, and when you made sure you both had dry hair, you huddled on the couch under as many blankets as you had, trying to get warm.

With Felix you never needed to have big conversations, although there had been nights when you had gone to sleep in the middle of the night because you had started to ramble on about whatever topic either of you had proposed. It wasn't the first time your boyfriend had said that for him actions were more important than words, so you spent as much time as possible showing him through actions how much you loved him and how much he deserved that love. You knew he didn't expect the night to end this way, and that he thanked you for it.

"Thank you for being the way you are, Lixie" you murmured, sitting up slightly in his arms so you could watch his face.

"Thank you for always being there for me" he replied, looking up at you with a whole universe of stars compressed in his beautiful eyes.

"Rough day?"

"It got better as soon as I saw you together with Minho hyung."

You both smiled, bringing your foreheads together and gently rubbing each other's nose against the other's in a comforting way. This was, without a doubt, your favorite part of any of the four seasons.

seungmin (cheek kiss)

You'd been staying at your boyfriend's dorm for a couple of days, living with him and his three other group members. While they went to work, you were trying to catch up on your college notes from the comfort of the couch, still feeling too sick to attend class and with a stabbing pain in your belly every time the paracetamol stopped working, clear consequences of having missed the bus on a rainy day, walking home soaking wet, and the effects of your period.

Seungmin's manager had advised him not to get too close to you while you were ill, but he, far from listening to him, had simply asked his members if they cared, and upon their refusal had invited you to spend a few days with him in order to observe how your cold was progressing, making sure how you were feeling every second of the day and taking care of you as you deserved. And you, feeling so lonely in your apartment, had not hesitated to pack the essentials in a backpack and ask your brother to take you there.

That afternoon, however, you were alone in the dorm, as usual. Your nerves were eating you alive because a friend of yours had told you that one of your professors was going to upload, through your university's application, the results of your last exam. You had spent weeks preparing for that test, and for the activity that had to be presented on the day of the exam, and your boyfriend had helped you with both. You wanted to get a very good grade to make Seungmin proud of your effort and his own.

But when you opened the message, and saw that you had failed with one of the lowest grades in the class, you froze for a few seconds, not knowing how to react. "The teacher must have made a mistake with another student," you said, out loud, still in disbelief, "It's not possible that all that... I can't have gotten this after all the effort we put in." But after emailing your professor, his response was, if anything, even more hopeless. He told you that he too was surprised by your result, and that he was very disappointed with how you had evolved in the subject.

You threw your phone across the couch and burst into tears, your heart compressed, feeling that nothing you were doing was enough, that it was useless. Eventually the sobs stopped, though you continued to hide under the covers, staring blankly and breathing heavily. And that's how Felix found you when he came home, tired, at six o'clock in the evening, with a shopping bag in each hand, his backpack and an eternal smile on his lips that vanished when he entered the living room and saw that you didn't give it back to him.

As he noticed your figure curled up on the couch and how you were, surrounded by blankets, with teary eyes and remnants of tears on your cheeks, he didn't hesitate to drop everything on the floor and sit next to you, hugging you.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked you, stroking your back comfortingly.

"A bad grade," you explained, between sobs, trying to steady your voice, "Where is everyone?"

"You mean Seungmin, I suppose," he said, and your shy apologetic smile made him continue, "Today he was supposed to record the cover he was preparing, I think he's going to be late."

You stood silently, staring at nothing for a moment, and then wiped away your tears, faking a minimally cheerful face to downplay the situation, and sitting up on the couch, putting the blanket aside.

"It's okay, work is work," you told him, resting your hand on his shoulder and squeezing it affectionately. "Do you want me to help you with those bags, what did you buy?"

Felix's eyes lit up again, still slightly reluctant to move you away from your corner on the couch, but he flashed a smile and told you the latest story that happened between Changbin and Hyunjin, guiding you to the kitchen. You helped him place everything he had bought at the supermarket while he made sure that, for a few minutes, you forgot what had made you so sad. He suggested making brownies to take to practice the next day, and just as he was preparing the ingredients on the counter, you offered to play one of your Spotify playlists. You ended up jokingly discussing some of the songs, and decided to make a playlist from scratch just for when he went into baking mode. He even managed to make you laugh.

And then I.N. and Minho arrived, and while the latter prepared dinner, the former monopolized Felix's attention with questions about the last videogame they had played together with your boyfriend. So you ended up sitting back on the couch, knees drawn up to your chest, rocking as you listened to the youngsters chatting and laughing, with Minho occasionally joining the conversation. And you kept wondering what exactly you were doing there. Living momentarily with those wonderful boys who didn't deserve to have you invading their space, who came home exhausted and didn't need to take care of you if Seungmin wasn't around. They weren't supposed to have that responsibility. God, even Seungmin shouldn't have proposed you to spend a few days with them. You were just acting like a parasite in their house, and they didn't deserve it. When was the last time you paid for something? You were not contributing at all.

With your eyes misty with tears you got up in a hurry, grabbed the keys to your own apartment, where you should have stayed from the beginning, and left. You went downstairs as fast as you could, putting as much distance as you could between you and the dorm, between you and the guys. You had nowhere to go either, really. You didn't feel like going back to your apartment yet, your friends were studying for their last exams, like you should be doing, and you had left your phone on the couch, with your laptop and your notes. God, you hadn't even been able to do that right. You were sure Minho would hate you when he walked into the living room and saw that everything was dirty and full of your stuff. As lucky as you were, you had probably even forgot to throw away the tissues you had used to fight your cold.

You began to wander around the city, regretting not having thought things through before running away, because the temperature had begun to drop with the arrival of night, and you were only wearing your sweatpants and Seungmin's hoddie over them. The painkiller was wearing off, intensifying your abdominal pain, and to top it off, you were really hungry. You ended up accepting the fact that it would be better to go home now. You needed to feed yourself, take a warm shower and get into bed, because after wandering the streets of Seoul, your cold would probably have gotten worse. You got up from the swing where you had decided to stop to rest for a while, and left the park, trying to find the street you were on and the quickest way home.

You felt your hands deathly cold against the fabric of your hoodie, and even colder against the metal of your keys, as you tried to open the door. Each step was an effort, and after you struggled with the lock, you were almost out of breath. Still, as you closed the door you leaned against it and sighed, feeling the weight of your decisions on your shoulders.

"YN?" you heard from the living room.

You frowned as you recognized the voice and hurried to the living room, bumping into your boyfriend halfway.

"Seungmin? What are you doing here?"

He grabbed your arms to steady you both and frowned.

"Why aren't you at home? Felix texted me super worried because when he arrived you were crying on the couch but you didn't want to talk about it with anyone and I finished the recording as soon as possible to..."

"That's not my home" you whispered, unable to hold his gaze.

"What?"

"That's not my home, Seungmin" you repeated, somewhat louder, and sniffled.

"Sure it is" he replied, running his gaze over your features.

"No" you mumbled, whimpering again, noticing how a shiver ran down your back.

"Hey, hey, come on, love, of course it's your home" he told you, softening his voice. "I live there, and you're more than welcome to come over anytime. The boys love you, you know that. And my room and the living room is full of your stuff!"

"That's the problem!"

You let out a sob, and rested your head on his shoulder, unable to continue sharing your thoughts. You felt Seungmin wrap his arms around you, and you took refuge in them, absorbing his warmth.

“Listen, love, we'd better talk about it after a shower, okay? You're burning up, and I'm sure you're hungry."

You nodded, still not looking at him, and let him guide you. Your boyfriend let you curl up under a blanket on the couch while he prepared the bathtub for you. Then he helped you up, carrying you to the bathroom and taking off your clothes. And you trusted him your safety, eyes closed, until you felt your body being submerged in warm water. You let out a shaky sigh, feeling better, and listened as he opened the shampoo bottle, then immediately felt his long fingers massaging your scalp.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to," he began, his voice like a lullaby, "because I know it's hard to express certain things. But I think I know how you feel, and let me tell you one thing: you don't bother them, you don't bother us. Just because the boys and I trust each other so much or fit in so well doesn't mean that we don't need you, that we don't miss you when you're not around. Especially me, love. You are my favorite person. I would give everything for you, and that's why if I have a choice, when you are unwell, and even when you are well, I like to come home and see you there. You always greet me with a smile, and you automatically make my day. If you really don't want to be there because you feel uncomfortable, I'll help you bring your things here tomorrow. But if it's because you feel you don't fit in, or because you think you're a burden, believe me we don't see it that way at all. Felix knows you only do playlists with him, every time you ask him for music recommendations, he gets very excited. Minho loves to feed you because he loves the constructive criticism you give him. And he is very grateful when you offer to clean the kitchen for him, because he is very tired lately. And Jeongin trusts very few people to take good photos of him. He almost always posts the ones you take of him. You are important, YN. And you are loved. I love you. You can't imagine how much."

"I love you too" you managed to say, between sobs. At that point, the shampoo was long forgotten, and there was only record of the silence that enveloped you as you both looked into each other's eyes: he with the intensity of the one who intends to communicate with his gaze that which resides in his soul, you with the tears that show that you have opened your heart to his every word, and let them envelop you completely. "Thank you."

Seungmin sighs, sketching a smile of relief, now that he knows you are already feeling somewhat better, and strokes your cheek with his soapy hand. You close your eyes against his velvety, slippery touch, and feel his lips brush your other cheek, in a kiss as light as a butterfly.

i.n (peck)

It was odd for both of you to argue, or be mad at each other. He was in the stressful period of preparation before a comeback, with enough time to just breathe, and he had found space for you in his last free afternoon, discarding the idea of taking a break to be with you. And as a matter of destiny, just as you were about to sit down on the couch in your apartment to watch your Friday movie, enjoying each other's company, your mother called you.

The thing is, your sister was getting married. The ceremony was coming up soon, and you had confirmed your attendance, of course, but you only said you were bringing a friend –a male friend–, and your mother was curious about whether that boy was a posible boyfriend or not. The problem was that your parents didn't know you had a boyfriend, and you weren’t sure if you wanted them to. You hadn't found the right time to say anything about it, and you didn't have a great relationship with your parents anyway, so it wasn't something you had the need to tell. But obviously you wanted Jeongin to accompany you in such a nice and special moment, so when your mother asked you about who you were going to bring, you simply replied "Mm, all you have to know is that my friend’s name is Jeongin."

You didn't think much of it –not that you knew he was listening, since you had gone back to the kitchen to chat with your mother while he went to the living room– but since then, the maknae's smile faded and he adopted a somewhat absent demeanor for the rest of the evening. You didn't notice it because neither of you were big fans of skinship and you were curled up on one end of the couch under a blanket. He had crossed his arms at the other end, but due to the movie you both were watching was so interesting your eyes were fixed on the screen, absorbing every possible detail in an attempt to try to unravel the ending of the thriller before the story itself revealed it. You bent down often to pick up some candies that you and Jeongin had left on the table after dinner, and when you offered one to your boyfriend and he completely ignored you, you stared at him with a confused look on your face.

"Baby," you murmured, moving slightly closer to him, still holding the small package of Korean sweets, running your gaze over his features, "would you like one of these?"

Jeongin remained silent, eyes focused on the plot unfolding in front of you, and you frowned as you realized that it hadn't been a mistake, it wasn't that he hadn't listened to you, but that he was completely ignoring you. You decided to play for a while longer, just to assess how serious the situation was, and sat down next to him, shoulder to shoulder. You swung your legs up, placing them in his lap, and then rested your head on his shoulder, pulling the plastic off the candy and eating it noisily. Suddenly you had lost all interest in the movie. You'd have time to watch it again, some other time. After a few minutes you gave him a sideye glance, but he seemed really focused on refusing any kind of interaction with you.

You sighed, making a ball with the candy wrapper and tried to throw it on the table. Of course, you failed. You decided to change tactics, and posture, and rested all the weight of your body on his legs, trying to make it as uncomfortable as possible for him, but managing to accommodate yourself in such a way that you ended up practically on his lap, with your head resting on his arms. You couldn't deny that it would have been more convenient for you if your boyfriend didn't have his arms crossed, but he seemed to be aware of this fact as well, and tensed them on purpose.

In this silent war, which you had every intention of winning, you had an enemy of great strength. You had tried rolling over him, making noise while eating and making noise with the candy wrappers (so much so that you even felt reluctant to eat candy in the near future because you had had enough of it), you had gotten up, walked past the TV, gone to your room to change into something more provocative and even tried watching tiktoks at full volume. Nothing was working: the only sign of life on I.N's part was his blinking and the soft rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. You were beginning to get impatient, and to take it more personally. What was it that you had done that had offended him so much?

"Love" you tried, breaking the silence.

There was no response.

"Jeongin?" you called out to him, resting your hand on his arm, and moving it.

He remained hermetic, and your patience, which had been running out for a while, reached a critical point. You picked up the remote control and stopped the movie, standing in front of the TV with a frown on your face and your arms just as crossed as his were.

"What's your problem?"

"I was watching the movie" he looked up to look you in the eye, with that fox gaze that characterized him so much. The thing was, this time he hadn't softened it, as he did every time he saw you, but it was still as sharp as a dagger, as if you were just strangers in a bar.

"I don't care about the movie" you replied, trying to decipher the source of his behavior, "What's wrong with you?"

Jeongin looked away, and mumbled something between his teeth that you failed to understand.

"What?"

"Go ask your 'friend Jeongin', I'm sure he knows. That’s what I said"

You kept silent, trying to puzzle out his words, until you remembered the phrase you had used in the previous phone call, when your mother had once again tried to use her charms to pressure you into revealing the identity of your male friend. And you smiled. You hid the curve of your lips almost immediately, because if your boyfriend had reacted that way it was because it had really affected him, and you didn't want him to misundertand your reaction. You straddled his lap and, with great effort, got him to uncross his arms and put them around your waist.

"Do you want to know who the caller was?" you asked him, using a gentle tone, resting your hands on his shoulders and massaging that area, trying to help him stop tensing his body.

He nodded, finally looking you in the eye, sulking, which made you pout.

"Ever since my sister invited us to her wedding and I told her that I would be bringing a date, my mother has taken it for granted that I have a boyfriend and wants to meet you, to know who you are" you began, sighing at your mother's behavior, "Knowing her, she'll direct all the attention my sister deserves towards me, just because I've gotten a date. And I don't want to ruin my sister's day over a silly thing. I told her you were my friend because I know she will insist me on asking you out, but only when she’s alone with me. That way there won't be any public comments with unknown intentions. I'm not ashamed of you, my love, and I'm really sorry if it gave you that feeling."

Now you did let out a chuckle as you noticed the blush that had been spreading across your boyfriend's cheeks and ears as you spoke. He covered his cheeks with his hands, and you pressed your forehead to his lovingly, still giggling slightly, loving his reaction. You rested your hands on his and leaned in to bring your lips together in a chaste kiss. And then you had an idea.

"W-what are you doing?" your boyfriend inquired, watching as you managed to reach your cell phone on the other end of the couch.

You put your index finger to his lips as you unlocked the phone, shushing him, and searching for your sister's contact. You sent her a short message making sure she had a moment for you, while your boyfriend admired your face of absolute concentration, still wondering what you were up to. Then you smiled as you read your sister's reply, and hit the video call icon instantly.

"YN! How's everything over there?"

Jeongin's eyes went wide as he recognized the voice, and he looked at you with a panicked gesture, tensing up underneath you.

"Hello, sis! I wanted to tell you something about the wedding" you announced, triumphantly.

"Oh, no," she protested, pouting, "Mom's being a pain again? I'm terribly sorry, I warned her not to be like that, but she's just so excited."

"It does have to do with mom, but it's nothing bad, don't worry" you told her, alternating your gaze between the screen and your boyfriend. "Remember when I confirmed attendance?"

"Mm-hm," he nodded, thinking about the answer, "two people and no allergies, right?"

"Right" you affirmed, noticing how your boyfriend anticipated your intentions and cringed. "I told you and mom I was going to bring my friend Jeongin."

"Wait- you're not bringing your friend after all? You're bringing a boyfriend!" she accused you, excitedly.

"More or less, yeah haha. Jeongin is my boyfriend, actually. We've been together for almost a year, and we've been living together for a few months now. I wanted someone to know it there, but mom can't find out."

"Phew, you're telling me. We wouldn't hear the end of it in our lifetime" she concurred. "And tell me, do you have your Romeo around? Or can I gossip how do you two..."

"He's here!" you hurriedly announced, cutting your sister off in the middle of her sentence, a sentence whose end you didn't even want to hear, and moved until you were sitting shoulder to shoulder with him again, making him appear in the video call too. "Jeongin, this is my sister. Sis, Jeongin, my boyfriend."

"Hi, noona," he said to her, still embarrassed, but with his trademark bright smile shining on his face.

"Hi, Jeongin!" she replied, with the energy she had always had. "I have to go now, but I hope I can see you before the wedding. Although if we can't, I hope you guys have a great time!!"

You hung up, and looked at your boyfriend with a smile on your lips, teasing him a little at how tense he had been the entire call.

"You had nothing to worry about, I wasn't going to make a fool of you."

Jeongin rolled his eyes and pulled you back onto his lap.

"You love to make a fool of me."

You couldn't help but let out a loud laugh, noticing how your heart shrank at the truth you had just discovered: you were very much in love with this boy. And, knowing that this whole situation had happened because of your sister's wedding, you obviated the thought that at some point in the future, you didn't know when, you would be more than willing to marry him.

© stayconnecteed 2023 · do not copy, translate, repost or share this work as yours on other platforms

#☆ㅤ🪐 writings!! #about: ot8 imagines #about: types of kisses #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #bangchan imagines #bang chan x reader #lee know imagines #lee minho imagines #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #changbin imagines #changbin x reader #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x reader #han jisung imagines #han jisung x reader #felix imagines #felix x reader #seungmin imagines #seungmin x reader #jeongin imagines #jeongin x reader

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

hiii hello idk if you take tmnt x reader requests (ignore this if you dont take requests) but like. can you make an 03 raphael x fem!reader ?? like something with love at first sight,, ykwim :3 something kinda similar to the '12 raph x reader thingie you posted??

Foot Ninjas and Sidewalk Beauties

2003!Raphael x reader

A/N: Sure I can❤️ My guess would be that this takes place around season one or season two, but that doesn’t matter that much.

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Warnings: Spelling, turtles getting their butts kicked, Raph falling in love at first sight❤️

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Last encounter with the Foot was, just say it mildly, an absolute failure. The turtles had gotten their butts kicked and then had the floors cleaned with it. None of them had been prepared for Shredder and his ninjas. It had been a surprise attack, or as Shredder had called it, a warning. And then he left, leaving the turtles injured and bedridden for a week.

Leonardo was not happy. Not happy at all. He immediately started blaming their loss on their lack of training, giving way for him to start a ned training schedule. And Raphael did not like it. It messed with his own training. His boxing that helped him blow off build up steam was now cut short, leaving Raph more agitated and angry. Not only did he not have time for his anger relieving boxing, but his knitting had also taken a back seat. So to say that Raph did not like it, may have been an understatement. Raphael hated it.

Raph especially hated it today, as he was stuck on a roof on a Friday night, continuously doing push ups for what felt like hours. Both Raphael, Donatello and Michelangelo was getting tired, yet their older brother did not yield. He continued, telling them to do the same, to which they sighed and did. Expect Raph. His patients was growing dangerously thin, as Leonardo continued once more.

“If I have to do one more push up, oh high leader”, Raphael growled. “The Foot ain’t the only one that will feel the rage of me breaking their bones!”

“Considering how you got your ass severely whooped the last time, I would have to see it to believe it”, Mikey shot in, causing Raph to growl at him.

“Raph, you know very well that we have to be prepared”, Leo said, during yet another push up, making sure his brothers were following his lead. “The Foot have been quiet for a long time. They could make their next move at any time”.

“Leo’s right, Raph”, Donnie strained as he did another push up. “After what happened last time, we can not be too prepared”.

“Don’t even remind me of that”, Raph said. If his arms weren’t preoccupied in his forced push ups, he would be slamming his fist against the roof. “Those bozos almost broke my sai!”

“That’s why it’s important we up our training”, Leo said as he got down on his forearms. “Plank, now. First to give in takes five rounds”.

“That’s it!”, Raph rumbled, getting up from his push ups, his arms screaming in relief. “No more training! I have shit to do, Leo! All of us do!”

“Raph”, Leo said, getting up to stand, frustration visible on his face. Donnie and Mikey sighed, knowing what was coming. “It’s not up for discussion. We have to be ready for the next Foot attack, and at the moment, we aren’t”.

“Speak for yourself”, Raph growled. “I’m ready for anything! Bring those Foot scumbags, and I’ll give them a taste of my knuckle sandwich!”

And as if those had been magic words, part of a spell, a ninja star embedded itself into the rooftop, in the space between Raph’s feet. All four turtles looked up to find a small army of Foot ninjas, waiting on the tall building beside them.

“Oh, crud”, was all Raph got to say before the ninjas descended upon them.

Once again the brothers found themselves unprepared. Their muscles weak after the extensive training Leo had put them through that evening, they found it hard to keep up with the Foot. Leo was the only one that seemed to put up a fight, while Mikey and Donnie dodged every attack that came their way, too exhausted to do anything else. But Raph was not the time to dodge. With his frustrations flowing, Raph threw himself at the Foot ninjas. But with his body and mind tired, he was easily pushed back.

It didn’t take long before they had backed Raph up against the edge of the roof, with no obvious way out. Okay, maybe Leo hadn’t been so wrong after all. But it was still his fault that they even were on the rooftop in the first place!

Raph did all he could, but with every punch or push he was taking a step backwards, until his heels hit the edge of the roof, causing Raph to go off balance. He tumbled backwards off of the roof and down towards the street below. Even though Raph was tired, the sudden adrenaline from his fall caused him to think fast. He took his sais and slammed them into the side of the building, digging them into the bricks in one hard move.

Raph breathed a sigh of relief, looking down to the street below, in order to look for an easy way down. But what Raph saw was far from what he had expected. Hanging from the side of the building, Raphael never thought that anything would be able to take his mind of the situation he was in, but then he saw someone. You.

You were standing right below him on the sidewalk, in the light of the street lamp, phone in hand and headphones over your head. You cased glances down the street, as if you were waiting for something. Most likely a car.

Continuously looking between your phone and the street, you did not notice the mutant turtle hanging off of the side of the building behind you, his mouth agape as he stared at you. To say it straight forward, Raph thought you were absolutely beautiful. The profile of your face whenever you turned your head to the side, the way your hair fell down your back. The silhouet of your body and the shadow it cast on the ground below you. Raphael felt his heart beat hard in his chest. Never had he thought he would see anyone so beautiful. How could his dream girl be walking the streets of New York City, and be so much better than he ever dared imagine?

While Raph admired your beauty from afar, the car you had waited for drove up beside you. You greeted the driver with a smile, that almost made Raph loosen the grip on his sais. He watched you take off your headphones as you took a seat at the passenger side, before shutting the door behind you. Raph watched, with his heart beat so loud he wondered if you could hear it inside the car, as you and the driver drove away, disappearing down the street, leaving Raph behind with a feeling of longing. He already felt a need to see your face again. You’re pretty face, that he hadn’t had the chance to enjoy the sight of, to the fullest.

A sigh escaped Raph, in the form of a breath he did not know he was holding. He felt a tingling sensation in his stomach that made him feel happy. All the anger he had been feeling a few moments before, was gone, replaced by a feeling of joy.

“Raph!”, his big brother’s voice sounded from the roof above. "Where are you? We need some help here!”

“Coming!”, Raph yelled back, suddenly having the energy to propel himself back up to the roof, using this sai and his own strength.

As Raph jumped back into action, giving the Foot ninjas a long overdo round of a good beating, his mind kept wandering back to you, enjoying the energy the thought of you gave him. Maybe that day's training session hadn’t been so stupid after all.

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt donatello #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt raph #tmnt donnie #tmnt mikey #tmnt leo #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2k3 #tmnt 03 #tmnt 2003 x reader #tmnt x reader #tmnt x you #tmnt x y/n #tmnt 03 x reader #tmnt 2k3 x reader #tmnt 2003 raphael #tmnt 2003 raph #tmnt 2003 leo #tmnt 2003 leonardo #tmnt 2003 donnie #tmnt 2003 donatello #tmnt 2003 mikey #tmnt 2003 michelangelo #tmnt raph 2003 #tmnt raphael 2003 #tmnt leo 2003

[manyfandomsonelog]

Trying to put myself in the minds of AA writers makes me feel some of the pain they must feel because what a MESS they’ve created with the most recent 3 games. How the hell are you supposed to build a new game off of all that there is so much going ON. Obviously aa4 left a ton of material to deal with but when they made aa5 instead they decided to skip ALL of that and instead create a whole NEW can of worms to deal with, and while I do love aa5, making it before using any of the potential of aa4 absolutely fucked up the opportunity to do it NOW because there’s Athena and Phoenix’s stories to worry about, too, and even just going off of aa5 would’ve created some interesting stuff but then for aa6 they decided to just go completely go off the rails and now there’s a whole other COUNTRY in the mix, as if we needed things to get even more complicated. Like I haven’t finished aa6 yet but seriously WHY did they decide to bring a whole other country in the mix it’s just so out of nowhere and not cohesive with the rest of the games at all which are all at least focused on at least the same legal system and it adds even more to Apollo’s insane backstory like WHYYYY.

But seriously what they should’ve done is made the fifth Ace Attorney game an Apollo Justice sequel first, giving us an opportunity to have a defendant Klavier case, more on the Gavin brothers’ whole thing, an introduction to Clay even if they wanted to do that, WAY more Trucy Wright content, with Phoenix studying/preparing for bar, you could even send him to Europe for a bit to hang out with Edgeworth and interact with Athena more, then that game could’ve served as a bridge into Dual Destinies, which I honestly love and I don’t think would need to be changed much given a bridge game after Apollo Justice, except for not ignoring Trucy as much and also making the orca case an actual case because that’s kind of extremely important and also a very fun case, and also just not doing all the time jumps because it sucks and it would be better and less confusing in chronological order, and THEN you have a fairly cohesive story.

But like with the way they’ve done it there is so much to deal with story wise it seems so hard to fix it now… like if I were to come up with new game ideas I would say:

Apollo Justice sequel

AAI game in Europe set during the seven-year gap with Phoenix (and Trucy!) as Edgeworth’s assistant (could also put an introduction to Athena here)

Athena Cykes: Ace Attorney

…But like out of those the AAI game feels like the one that could most feasibly be executed and that’s because it takes place before the current story, since at this point so much as happened since Apollo Justice it would be really hard to circle back to all those loose ends without it feeling weird and out of place, and then an Athena Cykes game is difficult as well because so much of her story was covered in Dual Destinies, though of course even then they could just make up more but there’s also Phoenix and Apollo to balance which would be difficult to handle ESPECIALLY when there HASN’T been an Apollo Justice sequel

Like god I don’t know what they’re planning for the next Ace Attorney game but oh to be a fly on the wall in that writers’ room because what the HELL 😭😭😭😭

#wrote this rant instead of studying for my physics test tomorrow. hope you enjoy #ace attorney #aa7 #anti spirit of justice #gonna go actually study now lmao

[rozaceous]

ive read mdzs years ago and stalled on tgcf (mainly bc i got really busy and then forgot everything lmao), but never really tried scum villain. if you don't mind, can you share why you like it? personally, the summary didn't really draw me in and the animation looked unfortunately really .... low budget.

hi anon! you've activated my trap card, which is Talking About Things I Enjoy At Length! congratulations! congratulations! congratulations! important things must be said three times!

(i also stalled w tgcf btw, bc it's so long that i could never summon up sufficient interest. and i will say that the svsss donghua is less than inspiring. i thought it was fun but that's speaking as someone who watched it after already being in love w the source content, so ymmv. i wasn't a particular fan of the animation style either, but considering that scum villain is the black sheep of mxtx's works in terms of the official content that gets produced, i was glad for what i could get.)

reasons to love scum villain!

hilarious use of unreliable narrator. shen qingqiu is one of my top favorite characters ever. he's not stupid or even, despite common fan depiction, all that oblivious--he's just incredibly genre-savvy and hasn't realized that the genre has changed. also he's hysterical.

but then sometimes, too, you look more objectively at things he glosses over and have a 'wait a sec' moment bc it's actually deeply disturbing.

it has a really fun way of of playing with transmigration stories and tropes. this was, in a sense, my intro to chinese web novel conventions as a western reader, and you can learn a lot bc mxtx is busy poking fun at all of them.

phenomenally meta.

luo binghe is a fantastic character. ppl who don't like him--i'll meet you out back. ostensibly the protagonist of the novel sqq has found himself in, supposedly blessed with every talent and the world prepared to fall at his feet, but MAN is it hard being luo binghe.

ppl will make a big deal abt lbh being obsessed w sqq but fail to acknowledge that sqq is just as weird and obsessed abt lbh. epitome of that AITA response of:

liu qingge

mxtx does so much with her villains, always.

as much as some of the miscommunication between sqq and lbh is contrived, it's also literally the only way that things could play out and makes absolute sense.

this classic scene, given utterly without context:

After a pause, Shen Qingqiu changed his angle. "What's your name?" The first one replied. "Six Balls." "What does that mean?" "When I was born, my pa held me and said I was six balls heavy." Shen Qingqiu was speechless. Shot put balls or ping-pong balls?! This kind of name is absolutely meaningless.

i think, honestly, my favorite thing abt scum villain is that you can read it quickly and have a good time, but if you're taking your time and paying attention, there is so much more happening underneath the surface! it's such a clever book, i'm honestly stunned (and humbled) that mxtx produced this as her first novel and at such a young age.

#this is just a small taste of what makes it so brilliant imo #fanon as always exaggerates and flattens certain things but it can be a v fun fandom too #i would also make sure that you read the extras if you decide to give it a go bc they're really something #but yeah! i love svsss! #internet user demands answers #svsss

[bep1erfics]

kim gyuvin - back to you 😵‍💫

“why, oh why, does god keep bringing me, back to you?”

synopsis: during your finals week, you happen to run into your childhood crush while studying at the library. 📚

kim gyuvin - back to you

strolling down the chaotic hallways, the bells finally rang, signalling that it was the end of school. you walked towards the lockerbays, grabbing a few textbooks and your bag, so you could study for your finals at the library after school.

as you closed your locker, your friends ran up to you and invited you to come with them to the arcade with a few other boys from your class.

“hey! y/n, come with us to the arcade. we need you to win that stupid dog plushy so taerae will stop nagging for it.”

you wanted to go so badly, but on the other hand, using the little time you had to prepare for your exams was more important than anything. if you needed to pull all nighters at the library to pass, then so be it. you couldn’t risk getting grounded again, as it mean absolutely no going out or any pocket money for three months.

your mom’s nagging started ringing in your ears:

“if you spend so much time with your friends after school, i’m gonna send you to boarding school”

hell no, you weren’t gonna risk being confined to your room OR go to boarding school.

“nah, you guys win it without me. i’m gonna study at the library, taerae’s loud voice is gonna send my eardrums bleeding for a good five hours.”

you said bye to your friends and quickly ran to the library, losing track of time. it was a thursday, meaning that the library was usually filled to the brim due to it being a weekly study-day.

dashing towards the library door, you push it, feeling ever so restless. your doll eyes scan the quiet building, finding no free seats. you were about to exit the library, giving up. but there was one seat left at the back, next to a boy that seemed to be in your grade.

gaining up the courage to ask the guy if he could remove his bag so you could sit next to him, you couldn’t help but want to take a good look at his face as only his back was in sight.

you leaned in closer, maybe a little too close because the guy finally turned to face your direction. if it wasn’t already bad enough, your eyes were opened so wide as you realised it was kim gyuvin, the talk of the whole school.

the both of you used to be friends in elementary school, but drifted apart as you grew up.

if you were daydreaming, gyuvin looking at you with the most puzzled expression plastered over his well-proportioned face woke you up.

“can i sit here, please?”

you gulped hard, standing there in silence. gyuvin sighed hardly, finally removing his bag and placed it on the table.

to be polite, you thanked him and quickly sat down, taking out your laptop and tried to not freak out. butterflies started popping out of your chest as gyuvin’s intimidating stare was seen in your peripheral vision.

‘why is he looking at me?’ you thought to yourself.

hoping he didn’t remember you, you automatically ignore his whole existence, blocking out your thoughts with the loudest music ever.

out of habit, you accidentally “quietly” sang the song you were currently listening to, forgetting that the most popular guy at school was right besides you.

“oooooooohhhh wwwhhhhhy oooohhhh whyyy does gooood keeeeep bringing meeeee, bacckkcckk to youuu BABY”

“hehe”

gyuvin started to laugh hysterically, so loud that the entire population on earth franticly gave him the biggest side eye.

you took your headphones off, wondering why he was laughing like he had just witnessed two monkeys making out.

“what’s so funny, gyuvin?”

you put your hands on your mouth. calling him by his first name wasn’t on your to-do list. was he gonna think you were weird for calling him by his name when he literally forgot yours?

“i didn’t know you could sing so well, y/n.”

at this point, you were shocked he even remembered your name. his stunt at the start of your study session made you think he thought you were a random hell of a nerd sitting next to him. your cheeks started to turn bright red.

“now you’ve got me in the mood for singing. what about we ditch the library and go for some karaoke?”

“i’d rather burn in hell than sing with you”

“says the one that wanted to marry me in kindergarten. cmon, i’m not taking no for an answer.”

gyuvin’s eyes softened, practically making you give in.

“fine, but promise me you won’t tell anyone about that stupid crush i had on you.”

“to be completely honest, i liked you as well. if you confessed to me earlier, i wonder what would’ve happened between us?”

you pinched his fingers and then crossed your arms, regretting your decision to come to the library. spending your whole allowance on claw machines probably would’ve prevented you from being forced to go to karaoke with gyuvin.

taking your silence as a sign of you being embarrassed, gyuvin grabbed your hands, dragging you out of the library.

let’s just say from then on, you couldn’t get your mind off of gyuvin. were you really about to fall for him all over again?

#boys planet #kpop imagines #boysplanet999 #kim gyuvin #gyuvin #boys planet scenarios #boys planet imagines #ricky boys planet #fanfic #keita ciipher #shen quanrui #fiction #gyuvin boys planet

[stars-n-spice]

TBB S3 TRAILER

Holy FUCK I was not prepared for this.

As soon as I saw the trailer posted on Instagram, I grabbed my laptop and casted the trailer on the TV and stood in front of the TV like an old asian man; hands behind the back, spine bent, feet planted shoulder width apart.

Cannot believe it's finally here and I've got a lot of thoughts that I'm going to put under the cut because holy shit, this trailer hit me like a brick.

Idk if they will be comprehensive honestly but I'm writing them down as I rewatch the trailer.

In summary though? This season is going to absolutely wreck me and I will never recover from it emotionally and probably financially too if we get a new wave of merch and shit with it too.

Anyways, thoughts and reactions under the cut-

What the fuck are they doing with that transport? They stealing something? Retrieving something? Is it a tank? Hello, where is Echo??? IS THAT FUCKING CROSSHAIR?! IN S1 ARMOR???

PHEE GENOA!! so fucking great to see her again, I'm going to be absolutely devastated if they show us her reaction to Tech's supposed death.

CAPTAIN REX MY LOVE YOU'VE COME HOME!! "I thought the end of the war would mean the end to losing more of our brothers" <- that better be about Tech and not about Cody, so help me god-

OMEGA'S NEW HAIRCUT :( she looks so much older now :((

STOP CROSSHAIR LOOKS SO FUCKING SAD. I feel terrible actually... this is like,, this is a shell of a man,, like,, this is a man who's got like,, nothing. He looks awful and I swear if he doesn't get some peace of mind I'm going to lose my mind.

"Omega's been waiting for us a long time." NO NO NO DON'T FUCKING DO THIS TO ME. I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD IF YOU DO A TIMESKIP, ANY MEASURE OF TIME THAT OMEGA HAD TO BE WITHOUT HER BROTHERS AND WONDERING WHEN THEY WERE GOING TO COME AND GET HER IT'S GOING TO BREAK ME. I fucking hate timeskips so much, I swear if she's been by herself for more than a year, or even just a year, I'm going to be PISSED. If she doesn't get the chance to be a kid like she deserves I'm going to fucking lose it.

PALPATINE?! "There is nothing of greater importance to secure the purpose of this Empire" <- y'all talking about cloning? About cloning Palpatine because you have to explain why "somehow Palpatine returned"???

HEY WHO THE FUCK IS THIS?!

Holy shit the animation is really good. Like that whole fighting montage?? The fucking scene on the bridge looks like,, fucking live action to me. Idk how to describe it but the animation is fuckng beautiful and I wish Star Wars did more animation because this is gorgeous.

FENNEC SHAND MY LOVE!! MY WIFE RETURNS!!! PLEASE BE IN MORE THAN ONE EPISODE MY QUEEN I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!! and Cad Bane is there too ig-

"They are coming, for all of you." <- who is this. do not come for me but I cannot for the life of me figure out who this is. It's not Cody, I don't see the scar. Someone help me out here-

WOLFFE IS BACK BABY!!! FUCK I CANNOT WAIT TO SEE HIM IN TBB ART STYLE

HUNTER ON PABU! Thinking they probably went back after everything and I want to see how they've adjusted and settled in, please, I am begging.

My baby, my angel, myivida, the light of my life. Fuck it's so good to see and hear you again. If anything happens to you I swear to god-

LMAOO DID HUNTER JUST GET YOINKED BY A SPACE CROC?!?! WAIT THEY'RE ON THE BOAT WITH FENNEC!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAA

There are two clips that allude to the fact that they get Crosshair out of there before they get Omega and I'm going feral over it. If this means we get them reuniting with Crosshair sooner than later I'm fucking ecstatic. Like because,, that's Crosshair's rifle and they clearly cropped the screen for the sake of the trailer, right? Right??

Hey where is the zillo beast?

ASAJJ VENTRESS??!?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?! You're telling me,, I get a season,, with Wrecker, Wolffe, Fennec, AND Asajj? Oh be still my beating heart. Anyone hear something meowing?

Also I know in the trailer it seems like she's facing off with TBB but the backgrounds don't really seem to line up so I'm hoping they don't actually face off with each other.

Tech literally only being indirectly mentioned and showing his death scene again but recolored and shit makes me feel all kinds of things.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

3 EPISODE PREMIERE?!?!?!?!?!?! fuck me.

Echo wasn't in this trailer enough and where the FUCK was Cody?!?!?!?!

Fuck.

#tbb #the bad batch #star wars #clone force 99 #tbb trailer #tbb s3 #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #tbb tech #tbb crosshair #tbb omega #best believe i'm feral over this #screaming crying throwing up #i am unwell #i love them a normal amount #i love this show a normal amount

[thedeerman]

Do You Want to Know?

Hey all, I've been writing nonstop because im obsessed with these stupid idiots and im so excited for whats coming up!!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Ch5: Realize

Alastor woke up earlier than he’d like. A lot earlier. But… He woke up. Which meant he fell asleep. He tried to think of falling asleep the night before, vaguely remembering tossing and turning late into the night. But at some point, for the first time in days (weeks?), the radio demon had at least a few hours of solid rest. Alastor sighed. A deep, heavy, appreciative sigh. I don’t know how it happened, but bless the sins it did. He had no fretful dreams. No sudden, panicked waking. No feeling like there was still a hole torn into his chest. 

The demon shook himself awake, not allowing his little bit of rest to be spoiled by thinking of how unrestful he’d been recently. Don’t ruin a good thing, he thought as he prepared for the day. He picked up the envelope on his desk on his way out and made his way toward the kitchen to make coffee. His shadow followed wordlessly, seeming to smile wider than it had in days. Alastor ignored it, figuring maybe the thing had been tired too. Does it get tired…? He wasn’t sure. He’d never thought about it before. 

Coffee was made, and the daily chore board was still out and displayed in the meeting room. Charlie was nowhere to be seen, but it looked like the board had been updated. Curiosity led the radio demon into the room to get a closer look. No senseless chores with Lucifer today, thank the stars. Only his regularly scheduled hotel running nonsense. He went to turn away, but his eyes caught something before he could. A name. Lucifer. What’s he going to be doing today…? Alastor stopped himself suddenly. This is enough. This needs to stop. He cringes, remembering the contents of the letter that he had written last night, before getting some well needed rest. Why was his mind so frustratingly stuck on Lucifer recently? Alastor skimmed over the schedule again and decided that the morning meeting wasn’t important today. Nothing was important today. There was one place and one place only that he needed to be if he was to fix this, and it sure as shit wasn’t under the same roof as Lucifer.

Alastor waited until Charlie made herself known to excuse himself for the day. The princess seemed disappointed but understanding, as always. He patted the girl on the head before handing her his daily envelope and taking his leave. 

Lucifer’s morning was uneventful. Really uneventful. As in, out of the two most noticeable beings in the building, only one was present for their morning meeting. There were plenty of sinners in the hotel, but as far as Lucifer’s fleeting attention was concerned, the only souls that mattered were Charlie and Alastor.

Lucifer stops mid-stride at that thought. What in the absolute fuck? This was getting to be… too much. Like, genuinely honestly too fucking much. The king of hell had spent a lot of time alone. His wife had left him decades ago, taking Charlie with her. After the loss of the only light in his eternal life, he didn’t really get out much. Depression took over, he spent day after day working on silly little rubber duck toys (okay, maybe he still does make them here and there, what of it?) and there were times when literal years went by without so much as touching another living soul. That screws a guy up, right? 

Lucifer continued aimlessly wandering down the long, empty halls, letting himself reason that this was all just a response to some kind of mental illness or something. It’s not like a mentally healthy individual would want anything to do with Alastor… But then his mind does what his mind does. It spiraled. And by the time he’d looped around the entire ground floor of the hotel, he was already wondering if Husk would make him a breakfast cocktail. Husk… Suddenly, the king gets an idea. It might not be a good idea, but it’s an idea nonetheless. He put the idea aside, letting it simmer a bit before deciding on it. For now, he was going to go back to his room to read today’s letter. 

Once he got to his tower, Lucifer carefully pulled the papers out of his pocket. He glanced over today’s writing prompt first, already wondering what question would put Alastor at the forefront of his mind yet again. Well, aside from the question of where he’d gone off to early this morning. Not your business. Not your problem. The king looked over the mostly empty page. On the top, the prompt read: “Name one thing that you assumed about your person but have since realized that you were wrong about.” Lucifer let a few stray thoughts run through his mind. I assumed a lot about him. Some of it was right, like… he’s an asshole. But some of it was wrong, like… Lucifer glanced at the radio on his shelf, thinking again of the calming music that he fell asleep to the evening before. The angel was too deep in his own thoughts to get this done right now. He turned his attention to the sealed letter addressed to him. Tearing and tossing the envelope onto the floor, he slowly opened the perfect square inside. Lucifer’s eyes ran over the words. It said:

“Name three interesting things you’ve noticed about your person.”

One thing that I’ve found interesting about you has been your sudden dedication to the hotel. You weren’t around before the attack, but ever since, you’ve been here every single day. A second thing that I find interesting about you is that you tend to walk most places, even though teleporting would be easier. The third interesting thing that I’ve noticed about you is your new bowtie. 

The color suits you. 

If Lucifer’s jaw could have hit the floor, it would have. The first point stung a little, the awful guilt he felt over not being in Charlie’s life up until now was still pretty fresh. But he takes a moment to also acknowledge that it mentions his continued dedication since getting here. The angel shrugged at that, okay, so that part isn’t ALL bad… and moves on to the next point. It was true, he did walk most of the time. He hadn’t realized that anyone noticed. Walking gave him a few minutes to process going from someplace comfortable and private to going someplace filled with other troubled, tortured, miserable souls. It was a soothing routine. And that brought him to the final point in the letter… It was… a compliment! A straight up, no nonsense compliment, no hidden meaning that he could find, just a genuine nice thing being said about him. 

Lucifer glanced at the corner of his desk, locking his eyes on the two perfect little squares that sat there. He opened each of them up and read all three of them, one by one. First,

One thing I admire about this person is his raw power. It has a lot of potential. Another thing I admire is his determined unwillingness to back down from a challenge.

Next, 

One thing I am curious about is your absence throughout the day. Aside from scheduled meetings and chores, you almost always seem to be missing.

And finally,

One thing that I’ve found interesting about you has been your sudden dedication to the hotel. You weren’t around before the attack, but ever since, you’ve been here every single day. A second thing that I find interesting about you is that you tend to walk most places, even though teleporting would be easier. The third interesting thing that I’ve noticed about you is your new bowtie. 

The color suits you.

The fallen angel read the notes over and over, and noticed that the first letter was formatted differently from the others. Like the writer was answering the question directly to whoever had asked, rather than to the person intended to read it. Lucifer stared at the pages like they would eventually give in to his questions, telling him exactly who was writing to him. Not knowing who he was assigned to didn’t bother him much before, it was a gentle curiosity at best. But now, this person complimented him. There had to be some ulterior motive, but how? How could someone manipulate his feelings about them when he didn’t even know who they were? People didn’t just give compliments to him. Not even his own wife (ex wife…) gave out free compliments. His mind flashed to his typical, pre-mixed mess of anger and depression that always took over when he thought of Lilith, but it was amazingly short lived. Lucifer didn’t let his thoughts take hold and drag him into an ex-wife shaped emotional breakdown. He managed, somehow, to break free of the thoughts almost as soon as they started. He looked down at his new bowtie and then back at the final page in front of him. His cheeks warmed up noticeably as he again read the line at the bottom. 

The color suits you.

Several minutes of silence later, Lucifer remembers the idea he had earlier. He decides that he doesn’t actually have much of anything to lose and opens a portal down to the hotel bar. 

Cannibal Town was one of the more pleasant areas of Hell, and all credit was due to the overlord ruling over the territory. She was tall, sharp, wise, and kind. She was also one of Alastor’s most trusted confidants. As the radio demon pushed the door in front of him open, Rosie’s head turned towards the sound. She immediately lit up at the sight of her dear friend, rushing over to greet him. “Alastooor! I wondered when you would stop by again!” He nodded, and quickly said, “Rosie, dear, do you have a moment?” The cannibal overlord’s smile widened as she rushed her visitor into the small sitting area in the back of the shop. It was closed off from the rest of the building and Rosie had made it nice and private. Alastor sat at the table, as he had many times before, lost in his thoughts. His thoughts about…

Rosie interrupted his wandering mind with “Are ya hungry? Want a little something to nibble on?” As much as Alastor typically loved Rosie’s assortment of fingers and legs and whatever else she may have gathered up, he just couldn’t find his appetite. “No thank you, but I do appreciate it.” Then he added, “I’ve come to ask for some advice.”

Rosie left the snacks where they were and went to the table to sit across from her friend, bringing only a small tea cup along with her. Alastor could feel her black, endless eyes watching him, quietly, as he formed his next thought. Once he could find the words, he leaned across the table just a bit, as if someone would be listening in. “I’ve been experiencing some… problems.”

“What kind of problems, hun?”

Alastor’s smile was strained, almost a snarl, as he thought about the past few weeks. His sleeplessness, the flashbacks, the panic, and of course… “Lucifer.”

“And what has the king done now to deserve such a reaction?”

Alastor closed his eyes for a moment, trying to mold his thoughts into words. “Nothing. He’s been very… civil” the demon starts. “But… There's something else.” With a heavy sigh, he began explaining the princess’s new activities to Rosie, and that he was being forced to write anonymous letters to the devil. He went on, describing his inability to sort his thoughts on the fallen angel. At first all Alastor wanted was for him to leave. His very presence jeopardized all of Alastor’s plans, ones that he had painstakingly put together over the course of months. He told her about his contradicting thoughts, how he wanted to be far away from the king, but also as close as possible. How he couldn’t get the idiot out of his head no matter how hard he tried. He told her what he had written in the letters, how all he could think of the night before was that the angel was actually listening to his radio broadcast, how looking down at the wide eyed king made his dead heart beat louder. 

Rosie listened in silence, sipping her tea and dunking a severed finger into the hot liquid before biting into it. She waited patiently as Alastor continued.

“That isn’t all. I’ve been experiencing these terrible flashbacks… From the battle.” He took a moment to remind himself not to let the anxiety take over. “I keep seeing it again and again. I can’t sleep. I can’t even walk down an empty hallway without being strangled by my own memories.”

Rosie spoke up. “I didn’t realize the invasion had affected you like this…” Her frown was quickly replaced with a gentle smile. Then she asked, “Is there anything that helps?” This made Alastor pause. After a moment, he admitted that the previous night, he actually slept for a few peaceful hours. For the first time in weeks. But he couldn’t fathom why.

When he looked up, the overlord in front of him had a mischievous smile on her face. She was trying to suppress it, but it was obvious that she was failing. “Now Alastor. Didn’t you mention that you spent the evening thinking about Lucifer and how he’s been tuning into your show?” The radio demon was still. He stared into the black holes that were Rosie’s eyes, confused. She let out a sweet, giddy laugh. “Alastor, honey. I’ve known you for a long time. A long time. And I genuinely never thought this would ever happen. But who am I to deny what’s clear as day in front of me?” Alastor was getting uncomfortable, but only slightly. He forced himself to take a breath and looked again at Rosie. 

“I find suffering just as fun as anyone else in Hell, but even I am lost at your response to my… problems.” Rosie looks at him with a knowing look in her nonexistent eyes. 

“Okay, listen. First off… with the battle. You’ve never been one to run from a fight unless it’s looking dire. So I suppose I’m right in assuming that you got hurt pretty good?” Alastor gripped his microphone protectively, willing his mind to keep him here, in Cannibal Town, in front of Rosie. “Yes” is all he says. 

“Well, that fact isn’t going to change. What’s happened is done and over. But sometimes in a near double-death experience… Well, physical wounds aren’t the only ones that need time to heal, you know?” Alastor took a moment to consider this. There were very few times in his life or death where he felt so helpless. He didn’t remember dying. The bullet that killed him had gone straight through his brain and his death was over before Alastor even knew it had started. The only other time previous to the invasion where he felt so helpless was…

He forced his mind away from the thoughts he felt beginning to rise to the surface. Another unhealed wound, the demon thought to himself. He was silent for a long time, and then let out a sigh. “I suppose you may be right. Perhaps this will pass in time.” Rosie’s smile grew again. 

“Now, with your other little-” she chuckled at the height joke, “issue.” Alastor leaned forward, his mind now firmly placed in the present. “Do you really not see it, dear?” He shook his head, confused as to what this woman could be possibly going on about. “Please,” Alastor says quietly, “If you understand how I can remedy this, explain it to me simply. In plain words.”

Rosie took a moment before sharing her thoughts. “Okay.” Her smile fell a bit as she continued, “Now, all I know is what you’ve just told me. But I’ve been around a long time, and the way souls interact with each other is my specialty. You know that.” Alastor nodded slowly. “So, what I’m about to say may sound odd to you, but keep in mind that I have very good reasons to say it.”

It was quiet for too long. Far too long. Alastor was about ready to fill the building with an unholy amount of radio static just to bring an end to the silence when Rosie finally spoke again. “The feelings that you’re describing to me aren’t a problem, dear. It isn’t hate at all, it’s interest! You’re interested in him. There’s nothing wrong with that!” The radio demon’s eyes narrowed at his friend’s words. “Interest?” He questioned.

“Yes! The kind of interest that one soul gets for another. The kind that leads to spending more time together…?” As Rosie waited for the demon in front of her to piece her words together, Alastor sighed. “You think I want to be friends with him?” Rosie laughed, “No! Oh Alastor, you’re too funny. I guess I’ll just come out with it.”

“Yes, please do,” Alastor hissed, losing his patience. Rosie is overcome by another fit of giggling, trying to hide her wide smile behind the cup in her hand. What she said next, she said in a sing-songy voice, with a smile wider than even that of the demon sitting in front of her. When she finally says it, it’s like she’s been holding it in for hours. 

“You have a CRUSH, Alastor!!!”

The bar isn’t entirely empty today. Angel was sitting on one of the barstools, watching Husk with a really odd level of intensity. I mean, the guy was just wiping down the counter. What was so interesting about that? He sat down a couple of seats away from the spider demon, not wanting to intrude on anything. And yet, before he could even ask for a drink, Angel was perched on the stool next to Lucifer, staring. Staring at… him. The king felt his face get warm at the sudden attention. He opened his mouth to speak but it was too late. 

“Heya, short king~” He didn’t know how to respond to that. Before he had to make a decision, a fluffy paw set a drink in front of him. It was the same drink as last time. The king gazed up guiltily at the bartender. Husk grinned and said, “Uh huh. Figured.” Angel watched the interaction without a word, but Lucifer could just vaguely make out a sudden feeling of annoyance coming from the demon. Or maybe it was jealousy? Why would this literal porn star be- But the discomfort was gone as soon as it arrived, dissipating immediately as Angel’s eyes met with Husk’s. And then both sets of eyes simultaneously looked to the king. 

Lucifer started stuttering, “Uhhh… If you were in the middle of something, um, I can, I can go, I-” It was Angel that interrupted him. “No, that’s not it. We uhh… We wanted to talk to you about somethin…” Lucifer’s eyes went wide at this. They want to… Talk to me? He struggled to put on a casual look. “Yeah! Yeah of course! Uhh.. What’s, um, what’s up?” His smile was beyond forced, probably looking as ridiculous as it felt, and his mind was racing trying to figure out what it was these two demons wanted to talk to him about.

Angel continued, “See, Husky and me have been noticin’ some things.” Husk spoke next. “Yeah. Some worrying things.” If the devil was capable of having a heart attack, he would've found out right about then. He didn’t even get a chance to ask what they were talking about before Husk continued. 

The bartender let out a heavy sigh. “Listen, highness. It ain’t my business really, but it’s getting a little…” Angel spoke up. “Weird? Obvious? Embarrassing? Oh, definitely embarrassing. The second hand embarrassment I get watching you two is-” Husk glared, stopping Angel mid sentence. The cat demon went on. “I seen the way you look at him. And you might not notice, but he’s been looking at you a hell of a lot too.” He shrugged. “All I’m sayin is, everyone’s already expecting it now. Might as well give it a shot.” Lucifer was lost. Completely and utterly lost. 

Angel piped up then, adding “Okay, but all I’m sayin is you betta hit that. You might be the only one that can!” Husk put a new drink down in front of Angel, briefly distracting him with the bright pink liquid. Lucifer can’t figure out how to speak all of a sudden, but manages “Ummm… I… I really honestly don’t know what exactly is happening here… Who exactly.. Uhh, what are we talking about again?” Was he drunk? No, he’s barely had a sip of his liquor. So why isn’t this making sense?

Husk speaks again. “Look, everyone in the hotel notices the tension. It’s getting painful. The two of you can’t even be in the same room without making the new residents uncomfortable. None of them understand what’s going on. They’re constantly waiting for some kind of blow up between the King of Hell and the Radio Demon.”

The… Alastor? What? The king must make a face of some kind, because Angel puts his fluffy head down on the counter with a thunk. The devil could barely hear the muffled voice say “Really has been a while for ya, huh?” Lucifer was past confusion. He mentally started back at the beginning of this interaction, hoping to understand this better the second time around. Well, he came down to the bar to ask Husk about Alastor and-

Oh. 

Ooooooohhhhhhhhh.

Shit.

“Now he’s gettin it,” Husk mumbles to Angel. The spider peered at the king for a moment before downing his drink and turning his body fully to face Lucifer. He put his hands on the king’s shoulders as if afraid that the man was going to flee from the conversation. Angel’s large, mismatched eyes drilled into Lucifer as he said “Listen up, short king. I know it’s been a long time since you’ve been in the game, so I’m gonna help ya out. First things first, let's get it all out there. You’ve obviously got a thing for the strawberry pimp radio star.” Lucifer opened his mouth to speak but Angel's second pair of arms appeared just in time to put a finger up, stopping him. “Don’t try to argue, we’re past that point. You like him. And lucky you, Husky over here thinks Mr. Fancy talk radio voice himself has the hots for ya, so no need to worry about that!” 

It’s a good thing Lucifer didn’t actually need to breathe. Because that was absolutely not on the table right now. Angel kept speaking, watching the king closely. “Now, here’s the hard part. You have to actually initiate something. I get it, sin of pride and all. But if one of ya doesn’t start this talk soon we’re all gonna lose our minds.” Husk sighed, leaning against the bar. Angel looked at the king for another long moment and finished with “We’re here to help ya. So now that that’s outta the way, why don’t ya start spillin’ it?”

Alastor didn’t host his radio show that evening. After his visit, he needed some time to think. Before leaving Cannibal Town, Rosie gave him a small stack of literature on various topics involving relationships. The promise to return the books to Rosie was the only thing keeping the demon from burning the things on sight. He did not need a relationship. He did not want a relationship. Alastor had never fallen in love, in life or in death. He had become close to others plenty of times, Rosie being an example. But of the many times someone had been interested in Alastor, it was never reciprocated. 

The radio demon sighed. Now he was the one with the interest. He sat at the desk in his tower.  Alastor’s shadow then motioned towards the pocket on the demon’s coat. Charlie had given today’s envelope and paper to him on his way back in, after his brief trip out. He’d placed it there and forgotten about it. It wants to read the letter…? Alastor eyed the entity suspiciously before quickly opening and disposing of the envelope. The paper inside read:

“Name three interesting things you’ve noticed about your person.”

Alastor,

I’ve noticed many interesting things about you. The first was your shadow. It really is an interesting being. 

At this, the demon’s shadow practically purred. Alastor’s eyes went wide at the response before waving his hand to motion the thing away. He continued reading. 

Another thing I’ve noticed that I find interesting is your coffee mug. It’s a silly pun, but still funny. And the third thing I find interesting is your radio show. It isn’t what I expected. 

Ignoring the mention of his shadow (again), Alastor thought about the other two points. His smile widened a bit at the mug reference. It was the radio demon’s favorite piece of dishware, afterall! And then… Whoever’s writing to me has listened to my broadcast… At that moment, Alastor wondered for the first time if maybe, possibly, the resident writing to him was the same resident that he had been writing to. 

But the thought didn't take root, as Alastor knew of multiple others in the building that listened to his show semi-regularly. And his simple, jazz-filled broadcasts always seemed to surprise, so it wasn’t exactly new information. He appreciated the sentiment though, reading the words over again in his mind. Alastor was never opposed to being complimented. 

After a moment, the demon remembered the other half of the project. His letter to Lucifer. The letter from today’s envelope was smoothed out and placed in the stack with the others. Glancing over the new paper, he read the writing prompt. “Name one thing that you assumed about your person but have since realized that you were wrong about.” Alastor closed his eyes, replaying the events of the day. It’s not until shortly before he goes to sleep that he finally puts words on the page in front of him.

It’s Quiet Time. That’s what Niffty called the short span of time between the night owls and the early birds, where absolutely no one was around. Well, not no one… Nifty’s favorite part about Quiet Time was the visitor she sometimes got, an old friend. The little maid had known Shadow for as long as she’d known Alastor, and that was quite some time now. In the span of those many years, there were plenty of times when Alastor was asleep and Niffty was not. And during those hours, Shadow and Niffty spent their time together. 

Shadow had not been coming to see Niffty much after the angel’s attack. Niffty knew what that meant, Alastor wasn’t sleeping. The being was odd, it had the ability to leave Alastor, going quite some distance before restrictions set in, and yet rarely left the demon’s side during waking hours. It’s something that Niffty would ask about, if Shadow could speak. But he can't, which sometimes leaves him limited. He can write if there's a pen around, but most of his thoughts can be made perfectly clear to Niffty without the need for words. They’d spent decades together, words weren’t necessary. But now, for the second night in a row, Shadow was here! Smiling and spending time with the quick little demon running up and down the halls. 

Shadow stopped suddenly, frowning. It took a moment before Niffty realized her companion was no longer behind her, having stopped her scurrying at the end of the long hallway. But looking back, Shadow was motioning down another hall. Niffty ran back to the entity to see what she’d missed. But when she gets there, she sees nothing of note. She glances at the shadow on the wall and then hears it. Ever so faintly. Music. The little demon tiptoed carefully towards the sound, wondering who else in the hotel would be up and about at such an hour. And playing music? What instrument is that? It sounds familiar… When she finally reached the source of the sound, she and Shadow both peeked around the edge of the doorway, into the room that Lucifer and Alastor had recently cleared out. Is that…? She suddenly realized where she had heard the instrument before. That first time the king came to the hotel… He fought with Alastor and played this thing.

Realizing that the fallen angel was facing away from the door, the two watched a moment longer. The maid took note of the shiny, golden instrument Lucifer held as he played a sweet tune. Niffty and Shadow share a moment’s glance before silently backing away from the room, leaving Lucifer to play his music in peace.

#hazbin hotel #radioapple #hazbin fanfic #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel niffty #mine #Do you want to know

[kamisatomay018]

My Saviour: Part 7

Another very fluff and lighthearted part! This will be a filler and a little bit of a plot setter. Who knows what might happen next though~ I hope you enjoy this one!

You were standing in front of the mirror, getting ready for today’s celebration. It was a very important event, for the celebration was for the Yashiro Commission, specifically for you and Ayato. The Shogun was very pleased upon hearing that Ayato had not only been successful in his task, but had also established friendly relations and managed to convince Sangonomiya Kokomi to visit Tenshukaku. As a reward, she had arranged for a celebration at the Grand Narukami Shrine, where she would bless him in the presence of all the nobles and Lady Yae Miko, as well as announce the glory of the Yashiro Commission. You were so proud of Ayato, and when he told you the news, you had personally prepared a feast for everyone in the Kamisato household, cooking everything on your own for your fiancé. That night, Ayato had missed his parents terribly, hoping that they were here to witness such a big accomplishment of his life. You had hugged him close, assuring him that they were always watching over him and must be so proud of their children.

As you were putting on your earrings, you saw Ayato enter the room, looking so handsome and enchanting that he took your breath away. He always managed to have this effect on you, and it felt like your love for him just kept increasing every single day without any limits. He smiles seeing you, approaching you as you feel his arms wrap around you, his chin resting on your head gently. “You look divine my love..” you blushed hearing his deep voice, smiling as you looked at him through the mirror. “And you look so handsome too you know..” He chuckled, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. “Why thank you Daarin. As much as I wish I could stay here with you and get lost in your everlasting beauty, I’m afraid we must have to leave now.”

You laughed and nodded, holding his hand letting him lead you outside, where you saw Ayaka give you both a bright and happy smile. Thoma was also going with you all, after all he was a very important member of the Kamisato Household. “Brother, Y/N, you’ve arrived! We should get going, or else Lady Guuji will be very upset!”

You saw Ayato roll his eyes, scoffing playfully as you all made your way up the mountain towards the shrine. “Oh that clever fox lady is going to bother me tonight.” You widened your eyes in disbelief at the way Ayato was speaking so casually about her. “Ayato!! That’s Lady Guuji you’re talking about! Dear archons, how can you call her that!” Both Ayaka and Ayato laughed at your shock; while Thoma stifled his giggles. “Oh relax my love, this is what I’ve called her since I was a child.” “That’s right, brother was always so interested in bothering Lady Yae, that she nicknamed him the Yashiro Rascal!” You ended up laughing at that, shaking your head. “Well at least today there won’t be any teasing banters between the two My Lady, for the Almighty Shogun will be present.” You nodded at Thoma’s words, a nervousness creeping up to you. You had heard a lot about the electro Archon, some good and some bad. Although the recent times proved that she had undergone a change of heart, the thought of being in her presence made you extremely anxious. Not to mention that you were Ayato’s future wife.

Feeling your fingers turn a little cold and seeing your silence, Ayato quickly figured out what was happening, and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Hey hey, don’t be so nervous Daarin..I know that meeting the Shogun for the first time is nerve wracking, but everything will be fine. She has been wanting to meet you as well, seeing as you will become my wife soon. Just be yourself, you are absolutely perfect.” You smiled gratefully at his words, slowly calming down. You had your family by your side, everything would be fine. Eventually you all entered through the gates of the Grand Narukami Shrine, and you were in awe of how beautiful it is. The decorations for the event looked spectacular, and everyone turned their attention to you four as you made your way inside the shrine. You could hear a lot of whispers and mumbles among the nobles.

“So that’s the future lady of the Yashiro Commission? She does look very elegant.”

“Aaww look at the way they’re holding hands! They look so in love.”

“I think the Commissioner can get someone better.”

“Look at her, she’s so poised and elegant! Ah she reminds me of the Commissioner’s mother!”

You and Ayato smiled at everyone, while Thoma stayed close to Ayaka, not wanting anyone to get too close to her or harm her in any way. “My my, look who it is, the Yashiro Commissioner.” You heard a sly voice say, making you turn your gaze towards the Sakura Tree, where a woman with pink hair kitsune ears stood with her back faced towards you all. Ayato snickered, his tone being playful “Ah, Lady Guuji, always so welcoming and insightful. Although I must say, I have not come alone, I bring with me my Sister, my dear friend Thoma and my soon to be wife, Y/N.” you saw as her ears flickered a little, and she turned around to face you all, a smile so sweet yet so sly adorning her face. Dear archons, she really was such a fox envoy. You saw her approach you, and you gave her a polite smile, bowing in respect. “Lady Guuji. It is an honour to be in your presence.” “Oh my, such a charmer she is! So poised and elegant, she reminds me of your mother you two. Well my dear, no need to be so nervous now, I don’t bite…usually.”

You heard her giggle, seemingly proud of herself as you simply gave her another smile, not knowing what to do. “Well, I must say Yashiro Rascal, you really have outdone yourself. The shogun is very pleased with you.” You noticed how her tone had gone from sly to a little soft, and you remembered that she had seen Ayato grow up from a troublesome boy to a responsible young man. “Thank you Lady Yae, it is my honour to serve Her Excellency.” “Well enough about you, I’m more interested in how you managed to get such a beautiful and elegant girl to be your wife!” There it was again, she was back to her sarcasm. “Tell me dear, what did you like in this troublesome rascal?”

You giggled softly, looking at the love of your life and then at Miko. ��He’s saved my life Lady Guuji..the reason I’m standing here today is because he chose to fight for me.” Ayato felt his heart melt at how precious you were. He knew that he would do anything and everything for you. Before Miko could reply, the guards announced that the Shogun was arriving, and everyone went quiet, taking their places. You and Ayato stood ahead, with Ayaka and Thoma just behind you both. The shogun entered the shrine, and everyone bowed in respect. “You may rise.”

Standing back up again, you saw the Almighty Shogun standing right in front of you with Miko, her eyes on both you and Ayato. You felt your heartbeat accelerate but you kept your facial expressions calm, trying to calm your nerves down. “So you must be Hiragi Y/N, the Yashiro Commissioner’s future wife.” The shogun said, and to your surprise, her voice was not as authoritative as you expected it to be. “Yes, your Excellency. I am Hiragi Y/N, and it is my greatest honour to be in your presence.” You saw her nod in acknowledgement with a small smile to you, and you were relieved to see that you had not upset her in any way. It was now time for the celebratory ceremony to begin.

Ayato stepped forward in front of the shogun and Miko, then respectfully getting down on one knee. The Sakura tree’s petals glowed, and the shogun placed her hand on his head. “The Yashiro Commissioner has outdone himself and excelled in his duties. He has fulfilled his oath and worked in the best interest of Inazuma, and he continues to show great promise. Every single person present here today must know that the Yashiro Commission and the Kamisato clan were the only ones who have been eternally faithful towards my wishes and our land of eternity. In the presence of all the nobles, your family and the sacred sakura, I bless you, Kamisato Ayato, as well as all your loved ones, and hope that your lives be filled with eternal joy. Continue your good work, and keep up your efforts. You may stand.”

As Ayato stood, the Sacred Sakura tree shed four glowing petals, each landing in the palms of you four. Everyone clapped, and you saw as Ayato came back to you, his smile so wide and his eyes filled with joy. Ayaka went and hugged him, tears escaping her eyes. “Brother, we all are so proud of you. Im sure that mother and father are here, watching you and are proud of you as well.” His amethyst eyes turned glossy with tears as he patted her head, hugging her back. You and Thoma watched with proud smiles. This moment was so perfect, full of joy and love. You held the Sakura petal close to your heart, silently wishing that your family stays this way forever, for eternity.

#genshin fanfic #genshin ayato #genshin impact #ayato fluff #ayato x reader #ayato x y/n #genshin fanart #kamisato ayato #ayato x you #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #kamisato siblings #ayato kamisato imagines

[warmblanketwhump]

Hi! Can you write something where caretaker won't pick up whumpee from school (because they're working at home) but it starts to rain, and whumpee walks in dreanched and cold, and caretaker feels super guilty for making them walk home? Thank you!!

absolutely!! here you go! 

———————

“B, I’ve got a million fires to put out with work right now. Can’t you find another way home this one time?” Somehow B always managed to pick A’s busiest days when they wanted a ride home from campus, and after weeks of little trips back and forth, A wasn’t in the mood for another disruption today. 

“But it’s so far! And one of my classmates said it was going to rain!” 

A pulls the glasses from their face and pinches the bridge of their nose. “B, I need to focus on work right now, okay? Either wait on campus a couple extra hours until I can be free, or find another way back. Maybe the bus? Or a ride with a friend?”

“Fine.” B sighs dejectedly. 

“Hey. We agreed that this would happen. My job is important—”

“Yeah, I know. I shouldn’t have asked.” B’s tone is sharper, more clipped now, and A winces.

“Hey, I’ll see you lat—”

The phone beeps as B hangs up without a goodbye, and A feels a twinge of guilt. They probably deserved that—it would only be a 20 minute drive for them, tops. It just wasn’t convenient right now, what with all the projects they were juggling right now.  

And as much as they loved B, they could be a bit…delicate when it came to being outdoors. And they were just so behind on work, and they’d hoped to catch up on a few things before the end of the week…

A shakes any lingering doubts out of their head. B would be fine. And back to work they go. 

A’s so deeply focused that they don’t move from their spot until they hear the click of the door and the squelching of wet shoes, over an hour and a half later. At that sound, A bounds out of the office, fully prepared to ask B about their day. But when they reach the entryway, they’re greeted by a pitiful sight that sends a jolt of guilt through their gut.

B is absolutely drenched, hair plastered to their forehead, clothes clinging to every angle of their body. They’re sniffling as they turn and lock the door, then work on peeling their sopping wet jacket off, but their hands are shaking so badly that they fumble with the wet fabric. Once they hang it on the hall tree, they hug their arms close to their body, trying to conserve what little body heat the rain didn’t leach out of them.

“B, you’re soaked.“ A’s jaw drops in shock.

“I’m f-f-fine,” they force through chattering teeth, and A can see that their wet skin is covered in goosebumps. “J-just w-wet.” A shudder ripples through them. “And c-cold.”

“...why didn’t you wait?”

B shrugs. “F-figured I c-could b-beat th-the rain. D-didn’t.” 

“Let me help you dry off and—”

“Go b-back t-t-to work. I j-just want a hot sh-shower.” Without another word, B pushes past A to head to the bathroom. Guilt pools in A’s stomach. Had their work really been that important?

They hear the creak and the whine of the shower starting, so A tries to go back to work. But they can’t focus, constantly listening for B’s footsteps or a glimpse of B coming back to the living room. Even as they respond to emails, A feels the pit in their stomach deepen. 

Finally, they can’t take the waiting anymore. It’s almost dinner time, anyways, and B’s got to want something to eat. With a few clicks, they log out of their work computer and head to B’s bedroom. There, they spot a blanket-buried lump on the bed, covered with an extra quilt.

“B? Any thoughts on what you want for dinner?”

“Not hungry.” A small voice comes from the blanket lump.

“Why don’t you at least come down with me and tell me how your day was?”

“Later.”

“B, come on. Talk to me. I’m sorry for—“

“A, I’m so cold.” There’s no bitterness in their tone—just sheer, pleading desperation, and alarm bells ring in A’s head as they rush to B’s side. 

Up close, A can see that B’s hugging themselves tightly under the covers, shivering all over. When A grabs B’s hand, it’s ice cold in their own. A feels like they’ve been punched in the stomach. 

“B, you’re frozen.” A gently rubs their arms and back through the blankets, pressing a hand to B’s damp forehead.  They frantically scan the room, spotting another old throw blanket, which they hastily grab and tuck around B’s body. “Why didn’t you tell me you felt this bad?”

“You were busy.” Another shudder rattles their teeth, and A can see them weakly rubbing their arms.

It isn’t possible for A to feel any smaller. “Look, B, what I said earlier…I’m sorry. I should’ve gotten you.”

B just shrugs. “It’s fine.”

But it’s not fine, and A doesn’t know how to make that any clearer to B. With a knot in their stomach, A mentally clears their entire evening schedule, brushes away the looming projects and deadlines. Projects be damned—they owe B this much and more. 

“Well, I’m not busy now.” A forces a smile, smoothing a still-damp curl off of B’s forehead. “Will you let me help and make it up to you?” 

B nods, eyes slipping shut as they pull the blankets tighter around them. “I’ll take any apology in the form of warmth.”

Within 15 minutes, B’s curled around a hot water bottle and sipping on a steaming mug of broth, which A holds to their lips so they can stay bundled. Once the mug is drained, B slips back to laying down, their eyes staring longingly at A. 

“What is it? What do you need?” A lays a gentle hand on their shoulder.

“Can you…do you have time to stay here for a bit? With me?”

A slips under the covers, drawing them in a hug. “Of course I do. Try and get some sleep, okay?” 

B nods, and closes their eyes, and within minutes their breath has evened out into an uneasy sleep. A breathes a sign of relief. They’ll just close their eyes for a moment…

….and when they open them, they’ve got a sore neck and B’s head pillowed against their stomach. It’s pitch dark outside, the rain still pattering on the leaves, and a low rumble of thunder pierces the air. B stirs, moaning softly and blinking their tired eyes open.

“B? How are you feeling?”

“Awful.” B’s still buried in all the layers, dark smudges of bruises under their eyes. “Do you think I could stay home from class tomorrow?” Their voice is weak and crackly, and they cough into the blankets. 

“Of course, love.” A gently threads their fingers through B’s hair, massaging small circles on their scalp. “Still cold?”

B shakes their head. “I’d rather miss class than go out in the rain again.” They shudder weakly, tugging the covers up to their ears and pressing closer to A. “It’s like the cold’s coming from inside me.” 

A’s heart twists. The poor thing really did get chilled to the bone, and they sound on their way to a nasty cold, too. They hug B closer, tracing long, wide circles on their back. “Then we’ll both have to stay in bed where it’s warm, won’t we?

A feels B’s arms tighten around their waist in a weak hug, and thats enough to make them start mentally composing their out of office email.

#cold whump #sickfic #whump fic #huddling for warmth #caught in the rain #can you tell I love this trope lol

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Azul Ashengrotto - Birthday Boy Vignette

"Happy Birthday"

[Octavinelle Dorm – Birthday Party Venue]

NRC School Newspaper Special Feature: Interview with the Birthday Boy ～Azul Version～

Happy Birthday

Azul: Oh, my. Thank you for taking the trouble.

How is the party?

Azul: I am rather enjoying it, thank you. This kind of liveliness reminds me of the birthday parties I'd have back home.

Did you always have a large celebration back home?

Azul: Indeed. My family owns a restaurant, you see.

Azul: When I was younger, every year on my birthday, we would close the restaurant and celebrate it together with the staff.

Azul: The decorations and music were top notch… But the best part of it all was the largest table in the restaurant completely packed with my favorite foods.

Azul: "Eat that, eat this…"

Azul: When I think back to it now, I wish I had put up even a bit of a protest to how much food it was…

Azul: However, when I was a child, I was so elated without a care in the world.

What is your family like? Please tell us all about each of them.

Azul: My mother manages the restaurant. I believe when she started it, it was a rather small place, but…

Azul: Before long, it was the top rated, most popular restaurant in the Coral Sea, boasting a rather large staff.

Azul: It must all be thanks to her immense talent in cooking, not to mention her brilliant managerial skills.

Azul: She is also quite invested in the Mostro Lounge. Don't you think it is spectacular to be able to work together as parent and child?

Azul: Next, we have my stepfather… As he is my mother's second husband, we are not related by blood.

Azul: He is a lawyer, and they met while my mother was going through her divorce proceedings.

Azul: No one can truly predict what may happen in life, can they?

Azul: He is a kind and sincere person, yes… But when it comes to his work, he is the shrewdest person I know!

Azul: He would often instruct me in contracts and laws. He gets along very well with my mother, and I find he is someone I can truly respect.

Azul: Lastly, my grandmother. Mine is a family of mages, but her magic is spectacular.

Azul: She would often use her magic to assist our neighbors with their woes.

Azul: That's right… She is a benevolent person, just like yours truly.

Azul: Everyone in my family may have their own strong personality, but they are each so incredibly talented. They truly are a family I can be proud of.

[Octavinelle Dorm – Birthday Party Venue]

Please tell me something you're particular about when it comes to the Mostro Lounge.

Azul: Hm, there is a lot I could choose from… But if I were to choose something, I suppose it would be the tableware.

Azul: Not only is the quality of the flavor important when it comes to a dish, but so is the presentation.

Azul: No matter how delicious the food, if the tableware you use to present it is subpar, it loses some of its charm.

Azul: That is the reason why most of the tableware that the Mostro Lounge uses comes from a high-end brand.

Azul: ...Looking back on it, it was a difficult few days preparing for the grand opening of the Lounge.

Azul: I gathered data from popular restaurants and sent staff to visit various tableware manufacturers,

Azul: And looked at sample after sample…

Azul: Well, at least it is thanks to that continued hardship that I was able to collect such wonderful tableware.

I didn't realize that was a thing to even think about…

Azul: Fufu… That's absolutely fine. If you were to learn the price of our teacups, you wouldn't even be able to hold it so casually.

Azul: You do not need to worry yourself with the individual worth of our tableware.

Azul: That attention to detail that we provide adds to the luxurious setting of our Lounge.

Azul: However… Sometimes Floyd will carelessly break the tableware we so painstakingly collected.

Azul: I've cautioned him so many times, and yet… Really, what a troublesome guy.

Sounds like a handful.

Azul: Well, I do still try to take breaks occasionally.

What do you do during your breaks...?

Azul: I read in my room.

Azul: In order to relax, I turn down the lights and thread through the autobiographies of businessmen that I borrowed from the library.

Azul: Also, I've filled my room with my favorite kinds of decorations and collections…

Azul: So just being able to gaze at them sets my heart at ease and puts me in a good mood.

[Octavinelle Dorm – Birthday Party Venue]

Do you have a hobby?

Azul: That would be coin collecting. I've had that hobby for quite some time now.

When did you begin?

Azul: When…? Ah, I remember now. It began when I found a coin near a sunken ship as a child.

Azul: At first, I merely believed it to be an ordinary coin from the surface…

Azul: But once I studied up on it, I learned it was a commemorative coin from this one country in which only 100 of the were made.

Azul: The face value of the coin is 100 madol.

Azul: However, to a collector, this would be a premium item that could be worth up to 500,000 madol! (5,000 Thaumarks)

Azul: Once I learned of the existence of these kinds of coins, I began to collect them.

Azul: Based on the history and material it is cast out of, these coins can be worth more than what their face value is… Is that not absolutely fascinating?

That is pretty cool. About how many do you have now?

Azul: I believe somewhere around 200 now. Coins that I am especially taken with I have framed.

Azul: Incidentally, since the value of coins isn't as influenced by the market, this hobby is good for in terms of keeping assets, as well.

Do you have any other hobbies?

Azul: Let me think… I suppose I like board games.

Azul: Back when I first enrolled here and was looking for a club to join, I visited the Board Game club.

Azul: That's where I met Idia-san… Well, more Ortho-san standing beside him―

Azul: And they introduced me to a game which simulated commercial transactions.

Azul: I immediately thought, "This will cultivate my business acumen even further!" and joined the club right there and then.

Azul: I've played many games with this club now…

Azul: So I believe I've been able to build up a considerable amount of mettle when the time comes for me to step into the fray.

Azul: Although above anything else, I've found that it's quite enjoyable to send my opponent spiraling into defeat with my intellect. Fufufu...

You seem to have a ton of interests.

Azul: Well, who knows what may be beneficial to my businesses.

Azul: It is always best to try to experience everything I possibly can.

Thank you for sharing everything. Once more, Happy Birthday.

Requested by @pianostarinwonderland.

#twisted wonderland #twst #azul ashengrotto #twst azul #twst translation #twst birthday #mention: floyd #mention: idia #mention: ortho

[gentrychild]

Hi! I'm not exactly a fan of BNHA and most of my knowledge about it came from fics and your blog. Curiosity about Bakugo's "death" led me to read the last 3 chapters, and the newest one confused me. I'm hoping you could shed some light on it?

Why is it important to the heroes that Bakugo lives? To the point an older, more experienced hero is prepared to sacrifice himself to revive Bakugo? Does he have some kind of secret weapon the heroes can use? What makes him /that/ important and vital to the current crisis?

Thanks for the help. I hope you have a fabulous day! (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

I think you already know the answer to your question.

More seriously, I have waited quite a while before answering this ask because I wanted to see what the next chapters would deliver and also so I was sure not to be instantly proven wrong after unleashing a vast quantity of salt. But I don't want to wait longer so here are the usual warnings: this is going to be a salt post, this is my opinion and not some absolute truth, and I accept the risk of being disproved.

Bakugou's death and everything that happened afterwards was pointless and cheap.

I personally found Bakugou's "death" very underwhelming because, especially for such a popular character, there are far better ways to bring one incredible death scene. The manga tried to show us that he went Plus Ultra and how much he had changed but the way it was brought made it underwhelming. His death could have brought more damage to Shigaraki. Or, one could have gone in the opposite direction and shown that yes, he didn't stand a chance against ShigarAFO but put more emotion into it to show that he fought for every additional second. Or he could have "died" protecting someone, which would nicely tie-in with his character arc of learning to be a hero who saves people.

Instead, the result was lukewarm. And the fact that pretty much everyone knows he isn't really dead doesn't bother me. But the last chapters did, especially when Bakugou already got seemingly killed by ShigarAFO during the war arc (and got away with only a couple of cool scars).

But what was a "Ah! That happened! Pretty cool quirk application moment and I like the change we see in Bakugou once he is waiting in purgatory with Flame Might!" moment because a clusterfuck of epic proportion with what is done to try to bring Bakugou back.

The asspulls of all asspulls. The most "WTF" moment of the entire manga and I am saying that while fully aware that Mirio twerked in front of Shigaraki one chapter later.

Edgeshot decides to kill himself on the off chance of bringing Bakugou back to life. He intends to fold himself à la Plus Ultra to become Bakugou's new heart, performing one of the most WTF open-heart surgeries ever on the middle of the battlefield while ShigarAFO is stomping on the remaining members of the Dream team.

How does he know how to do that? Is that how one of his parents die? Why is he doing that? Because his generation failed Bakugou's so he must atone and as an adult, he must save the kid.

The sheer troll logic one must attain to decide something like that is beyond my comprehension.

Edgeshot isn't dying at the time. It's not a "At least, my death might save him" moment. No, this is a top hero, who decided that he had to die to save one kid while the Big Three are fighting for their lives. In the time it took him to pull that not-so-life-saving procedure, Miruko has now lost all of her limbs, now channeling the Dark Knight of Monthy Python but hey, at least, she is certainly doing a better job than Edgeshot at trying to stop Shigaraki from killing them all and destroying UA, which is, in case I need to remind someone, FULL OF PEOPLE WORKING TO KEEP THAT THING IN THE AIR.

To answer your question, not only was "saving" (because, again, Edgeshot doesn't even know if it will work) Bakugou detrimental to the whole operation because they sacrificed a top hero during a situation where all hands on deck were required but it might have been for absolutely nothing.

Even if Bakugou, now part jeans and part ninja, starts breathing again, no one sane of mind would expect to get back to his feet and to fight again. 

Now, I will hazard a guess as to why this so-called death was necessary. I could be wrong. But I feel that this was a desperate attempt for Bakugou’s character to have an excuse not to do anything while Izuku is fighting Shigaraki.

Because there has been kind of an elephant in the room for several arcs now.

The manga doesn’t want to outright say that by now, Izuku is stronger than Bakugou. Not just stronger, as in “in a fight, Deku would win”. I am talking about Izuku being in a league on his own by now.

Because here is the thing: you have Bakugou who is a really popular character, who rose to the rank of deuteragonist, and who is defined by two things: he never stops fighting and he never loses. And now that he is fighting the big bad (well, one of them), it’s a problem because if Bakugou wins, that means the entire hero society is incompetent, so is the villain (since he got beaten by a first year) and the MC and OFA is useless. But if he loses or just shown not to be able to keep up with ShigarAFO and Deku and has to stay on the sideline, it’s almost out of character for him because one of the things he keeps repeating to Izuku is “Don’t try to do things alone.” (The Jakku battle and the solo arc, in case you’re wondering.)

I disgress but that’s another thing the solo arc could have been useful for. Really setting up the fact that Izuku can fight with Shigaraki on his own and that he was now in a different power category than his classmates. Instead, we got the “This is the story of how we all become heroes” and the plot must now bend over backwards to justify it.

Also, there is a 75% chance that Bakugou wakes up at some point, with Edgeshot’s quirk, and helps finish ShigarAFO.

So, to answer your question, no, there was no reason for Edgeshot to kill himself over the possibility of reviving Bakugou. Bakugou and Edgeshot had no prior interaction that could justify this. And if Izuku arrived ten seconds later, this sacrifice would have been for nothing.

#Sorry for unleashing the salt on you but you caught me in a moment of weakness #bnha salt #bnha manga spoilers

[growup-thatbeautiful]

hellooo, hi, im not sick anymore (more or less) and in surprisingly great spirits! i was thinking, if you wanted to write more Zeffirelli and absolutely and i mean ABSOLUTELY no pressure maybe we could have some sort of university themed kinda fic? not an AU just kind of widening the lens of The French dispatch to see Zeffirelli as a students not just his after school activities. im thinking like a philosophy student poet boyfriend x art and film theory painter reader kinda situation. studying and going to interesting lectures and to cinema in the evenings..idk it would be lovely to have some nice uni vibes to motivate me. also if you don't feel Zeffirelli now Timothee himself would be very much okay too i feel like. it is all up to you. sending you great energy, love you, message me if you want to brainstorm this story or want to talk literally about anything xx

omg hiiii!!! it’s fall now!! zeffirelli would be living his best life. i was really missing zeffirelli and timmy. timothee always renters my brain this time of year so be prepared. it’s movie szn brainrot time, my friends.

coincidentally enough, this happens to be my 700th follower celebration as well! yay!

uhhh so usually i write the translations at the bottom but i didn’t keep up this time i’m so sorry 😭😭

zeffirelli masterlist

ensoleillement (sunshine)

“You’re late,” you say, looking at the clock in the corner of your living room.

“I brought compensation.” Zeffirelli holds up a brown paper bag from the pastry shop down the street as an apology. “There's a pain au chocolat in there for you. I also got you a coffee.”

“I hope it’s not in the bag,” you respond drily, but take the bag nonetheless and rifle around for your breakfast. “Where’s the coffee?”

“Here,” he says absently, placing it on the kitchen counter.

“Dieu merci,” you sigh, taking a sip and shouldering your bag. The leather strap digs into your shoulder through the fabric of your coat.

“Thank me, not God,” Zeffirelli complains, ushering you out the door.

“You’re still the reason I’m late.” There’s a warning in your voice, but you can’t put any real venom behind your words. You never can, with him.

“Oui, but you’re not going to any important classes right now.”

“I’m going to math,” you protest. He reaches across you and takes your coffee, sipping it and grimacing. You slap his hand away and retake the coffee. “No matter how much you try, you aren’t going to like the way I have my coffee.”

“That’s because you have terrible taste,” he complains. “Why are still taking those bullshit classes? There are so many better classes to take.” It’s a conversation you’ve had many times, mostly out of jest, but there is some seriousness behind it.

“You mean math?”

Zeffirelli hums. “That’s the one. Why would you waste your time with math when you could be going to philosophy at noon?”

“Because I’m not some poet revolutionary, Zef,” you laugh, bumping your shoulder with his. “Not everyone is as successful as you.”

“Nonsense. You just haven’t shared any of your ideas with other people. Come on, amor, let me know what’s going on in that head of yours.”

“Right now there are a few things, but I don’t think you want to hear them,” you deadpan, gathering your books in your arms.

“Don’t get shy on me now, ensoleillement.” The endearment falls easily from his lips, his favorite term for you, meaning, quite literally, sunshine.

Ironically, you got the nickname on a rainy day when you had been giving him a hard time about his tendency to walk in the rain.

“I have nothing to say to you,” you reply, knocking your shoulder against his as you both try to go out the same door to the street below your apartment.

“All that math is filling your brain with nonsense,” he complains, his shoes scraping against the worn hardwoods. “I can’t have a good philosophical conversation with a mathematician.”

“Just because I’m taking the class doesn’t make me good at it,” you correct absentmindedly. He huffs and steps into pace beside you, his hand brushing against yours. The autumn leaves crunch under your feet, warm red and orange bleeding past as you make your way to class, the air crisp and the sun slinking behind the clouds. You really should be trying to make it to class on time, but you know you’ll regret it if you leave Zeffirelli out here alone with that rosy color on his cheeks from the cool air. Fall suits him well, and he wears the chill running through your fingers well.

It’s better to be here, your hands skimming against his, knuckles red and electric when he touches them than it is to be sitting in a class. Especially because he isn’t in the class.

The walk to your school isn’t much further. Just through the town sits a two-storied brick building where you’ve devoted hours to studying, crying, and trying to get Zeffirelli to take breaks unsuccessfully.

The cobblestones underneath your feet are consistently unsteady, and you find yourself, as usual, looking in awe at the quaint town that wakes up as you walk through.

There’s the flower shop on the corner with the green and white striped awning that gives out free roses on holidays. Next to it, stands a stationary store where you go more days than not to get a hand-pressed piece of paper to write home on. Across the street is a cafè where you and Zeffirelli have spent countless sleepless nights discussing movies and poetry when you should be studying,

This isn’t your hometown, and it isn’t his either, but you both know it more than you ever could know any other place on Earth. Zeffirelli’s American rouge, prophetic attitude couldn’t come from a town this small, but that doesn’t stop it from thriving. Here, nothing can stop him. Not living with his parents, which he does on purpose, or not knowing how to start a manifesto. Those things are trivial and unimportant because this place reveres every waking and sleeping moment it has with him. You and

You, well, you can’t claim this place as your home, but you’ve fallen in love with its poetically simple lifestyle. The two years you’ve been here as an exchange student has been the best you can remember, and you aren’t sure how much of that is related to the boy next to you.

A gut instinct tells you that he might have something to do with it, but you would be drawn into the charm of this town anyway, probably. He’s just an added bonus.

Zeffirelli takes the cup of coffee out of your hand and tosses it into the trashcan before you enter the towering, gray stone building that is your school.

“I’ll see you at lunch?” he asks, walking backward down the opposite hall that you’re traveling. “My mom packed cookies.”

A laugh bubbles from your throat and you can tell you’re grinning like a fool. You genuinely don’t know if he’s joking or not, but you don’t doubt the truth of his words. “I can’t even make fun of you because your mom’s cookies are so good.”

“That’s the sweet spot.” His arms are outstretched wildly as he turns back to go to his class. “I’ll see you later, amor. Don’t have too much fun in math without me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Zef.” There’s still a grin on your face when you walk into class, and you take your seat next to your’s and Zeffirelli’s friend, Mitch Mitch.

Mitch is radically passionate like Zeffirelli, but, as obvious by his presence in a math class, he’s less utterly devoted to the revolution. Which is to say that he’s still deeply invested.

“Did l'auteur make you late again?” Mitch reaches over you and slides today’s work to you. “I swear, you need to stop waiting for him in the mornings.”

“He did indeed.” You lean back in your chair and try to listen to the lecture, and you think you retain about half of the information.

The teacher at the front of the room drones on for half an hour about something you don’t understand, not that you care enough to pay attention. Despite the nature of his ideas, Zefrilli is correct about the fact that math isn’t your thing, nor is it going to help you at all. Especially not when you don’t have a clue what’s going on. Based on the look on Mitch’s face, he understands even less than you do, which is comforting and terrifying at the same time.

“Why did you convince me to take this class?” Mitch groans, flopping onto the desk and banging his head on the wood. “I’m too pretty for math.”

“I don’t think that has anything to do with it.” You pat him on the shoulder consolingly and gather your things together.

“Peut être pas, but it makes me feel better about myself.” You walk side-by-side to the next class. You have film studies with Zefirelli and Mitch has some economic class.

Zefirelli is waiting by the door for you, and, when he sees you, he pushes himself off the frame and asks, “How was the waste of time?”

“It was a waste of time,” Mitch confirms, bumping shoulders with Zefirelli, who looks at you for confirmation, which you readily give.

“Let’s do something worthwhile then, mon chéri.” Zefirelli holds out his arm for you, and you take it easily. “To the magical world of film we go.”

“Onwards we go.”

*

Lunch doesn’t come soon enough, but, slowly, it comes. Mitch, Zefirelli, and you usually eat together, but today Mitch is going to the cafe down the street with a girl in your class named Layla. She’s sweet, and you hope she’s enough for Mitch.

You and Zefirelli find your normal spot in the corner of a courtyard hidden away in the twisted cobblestone streets. It’s nothing special, just a park bench pretty much, but you wouldn’t eat anywhere else. Not when Zefirelli is sitting close to you.

“What are you writing about?” he asks, leaning over your shoulder to try and read the words in your journal.

“How much I hate math,” you deflect, shutting the small spiral and stuffing it into your backpack.

“That’s not what looks like when you write about something as trivial as math. I’ve seen your math face, and it is much more détestable.”

“You’re telling me that you don’t write enthusiastically about math?” you joke, hoping to deflect the attention.

“Only about my manifesto.”

“Yeah, well you have your manifesto, and I have my movie.” It slips out easily like things usually do around him. You’re so used to telling him everything, so it comes as no school that you’re unable to keep this from him.

The thing is, he isn’t supposed to know about the movie you’re writing. Not because he wouldn't support it, which you’re sure he would, but because there’s no doubt in your mind that he wouldn’t let you hear the end of it. You try to backtrack. “I mean, I have the movie that I’m studying for class-“

“-You’re writing a movie?” he interrupts, his hand frozen where it’s reaching for his food. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I’m not writing a movie,” you attempt. “It was a slip of the tongue. Fourchement de langue.”

“No it wasn’t,” he denies easily. “You’re writing a movie.” This time he doesn’t ask, but he does return to his previous action, splitting the pink-colored cookie in half. He offers one half to you and you take it. You decide not to respond and focus on the cookie instead.

“So, what is this secretive movie about? Hopefully something dashingly bohemian and revolutionary.” You know he’s tuning down his excitement for you, which is nice. At least he’s trying. Hopefully, he knows that you would never keep something like this from him if you weren’t embarrassed.

“Those are your interests, not mine,” you sigh, despite the deception behind your words. Truly, you do care about those things, maybe only because he cares so much about them.

“Yeah? Then why do you work with me on my manifesto so much?” he prods, a grin on his face. Everything about him screams “got you” and you have no choice but to accept his meaning.

“Maybe I like being around you, connasse.”

“That could not possibly be it,” he dismisses easily. His cookie gets placed on the floor beside him and he leans into you, his head coming to rest on your shoulder. “You’re much too talented to be hanging around me all the time.”

“You can’t be serious,” you chastise, your hand running through his hair. “Zef, you’re the most talented person I know. Not only are you some sort of chess wizard, but you also have such a passion for life that I don’t see anyone else. I’m lucky to be around you as much as I am, honestly.”

“You’re just saying that,” he sighs, but there’s a blush rising to his cheeks that fits him so beautifully.

“We’re poets, Zefirell, we only say things that we mean.” He leans heavier into your side and you relax against him, taking his weight happily. The rest of the world passes by, and time passes by, but you don’t care. This is where you want to be, by his side.

You would lift the sky for him, but right now all he needs is a shoulder to lean on. It’s something you’re ready and willing to give.

“You know,” Zefirelli starts, “there are stories about people like us. You know, people that want to change the world. Usually, they have someone by their side, a second-in-command. Napoleon had Josephine, Pierre Curry had Marrie, Sintra had Garder.”

“I think it be more reasonable to say that Marrie had Pierre, given that she was the one who did most of the research. And you’re forgetting that Sinatra and Gardner broke up after 12 years.”

“But she was the only woman he ever loved. Come on, amore, you know that. Anyway, what I was trying to say-” he looks up at you, smiling softly- “before I was so rudely interrupted, is that most people have someone beside them when they start their journey sur le chemin de la révolution. The road to revolution can be lonely.”

“Everything must start in love,” you agree. “Nothing comes out of nothing.”

“Précisément. Would- would you like to be my second-in-command? We have a long way ahead of us, and I think it would be easier if we stuck together.”

“How am I supposed to say no to that?” you breathe, laying your head on top of his and reaching for his hand. “Promise you won’t leave me for someone more antagonistic?”

“You’re enough of an antagonist for me,” he responds in an overly-sweet voice. “Not sure I could handle much more.”

“Good. I prefer you waking me up in the middle of the night rather than anyone else.” You also prefer his head on your shoulder, his hand in your hand, and his figure in your bed, but those are things you keep to yourself for now.

You’ve already got enough of a win for today.

*

A banging on your door is an unfortunately common event to wake you up. Without checking, you know who’s on the other side of the door. That messy black hair and those piercing eyes are waiting impatiently for you to make your way across your cramped apartment, you’re positive of it.

The floor is cold underneath your socked feet as you make your way over the piles of books, papers, and clothes strewn everywhere across your room. While the trek is short, to your sleep-addled brain it feels like it lasts forever, with you in a dreamlike state of confusion and agitation. You can hear the sound of rain pounding against your apartment roof, a steady rhythm in time with your slow breathing.

With a deep breath, you open your door and you’re met with the familiar, tall form of Zeffirelli. “I have an idea for the revolution,” he says, out of breath, soaked from the rain. “And I need your cinematic expertise.”

“So that’s why you’re at my apartment at three in the morning?” you ask, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Yes. And it’s only two,” he says as he brushes past you and goes straight to your tiny kitchen. Absentmindedly, he rifles through your counters and grabs the first food he finds; some untrustworthy brown biscuits. You don’t take any when he offers. “I needed to talk to you. Son affaire sérieuse.”

“Right, I’m sure it is. Tell me, what exactly do you need my help with? I’m not sure I can be of much help.” You shuffle into the kitchen and put a kettle on the stove, accepting the fact that you’re probably not going to get any sleep tonight.

“Absurdité. Who else is going to shut down my best ideas ruthlessly?”

“I would do that in daylight too,” you accuse. He fits beside you at your counter and reaches across you for the sugar bowl, taking a sugar cube and putting it in your cup. Two more are added to the cup that he’s claimed as his own from your array of delicately painted teacups.

“But you admit to having shut down good ideas?” A twinkle in his eyes tells you to give up now and accept your defeat.

“Sure.” It’s worth it to see the victory smile break across his face, his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth. “I am obviously the bane of your existence. Je suis ta couverture mouillée.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself.” His consolidation is quick and filled with a teasing lightness that you’ve long since accepted as his trademark. A lot of people would look past him for it, and call it arrogance, but you know it comes from a loving place.

“Don’t make me send you to Mitch Mitch’s apartment instead,” you warn, waving a spoon in his direction. “I would do it in a heartbeat.” It’s not true, you would much rather he be here with you, instead of at Mitch’s. Despite the entertainment that comes with Zefirelli and Mitch’s back and forth, you’re feeling selfish tonight.

“Empty threats.” he tisks. The kettle whistles from its spot on the stove and you both reach for it at the same time, your fingers brushing against his. It’s terrifyingly electric, but you push past the feeling. Zefirelli withdraws his hand hesitantly and you busy yourself with pouring the tea.

He’s come over in the middle of the night enough for you to know how he takes his tea by heart. Two heaping spoonfuls of sugar, no more, no less. He claims that you make it better than he does, which you choke up to him being unable to boil water without making a mess.

Clearing your throat, you ask, “So, what’s this big idea? Care to fill me in on why I’m awake at this time of the night.”

“What’s your movie about?” he fires back immediately, settling into your beaten blue couch.

“Did you come here to pester me about my future?” you ask, eyes narrowed. “Because I will kick you to the curb.”

“No, no,” he laughs, “you wouldn’t do that to me. You have no resistance to my pretty face.”

“Ah, yes, you’ve figured out my one weakness. It seems as though you’ll be taking advantage of it forever.”

“Of course, ensoleillement. What would I do if I didn’t have you to manipulate?” He sits across from you on the couch and grabs one of the blankets you have thrown around. It goes over his shoulders and he huddles into its warmth.

“So what did you come here to talk about?” you ask, taking a sip from your tea and placing it on the side table.

“Oh, right!” His eyes light up as he sits up straighter, splashing tea all over himself. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to care very much. “I thought that I would have my mother’s friend, some writer, is coming into town soon. I was thinking that I should ask her to help me. At the least, she can write about us, no? What do you think?”

“I think it’s a great idea. What does she write for?”

“The French Dispatch. You know, the one with all the stories they put out once a month or so. I hear that she’s looking for something out here in our petite ville.”

The conversation shifts and he talks about his big ideas and how he’s going to get them done. You could listen to him talk for hours, and, by the time he’s finished, you have, not that you have anything better to do. Not even dreams of him are this real. You could never make up in your mind the way his eyes sparkle and his hands flutter with excitement, or the way his hair falls in front of his face when he’s moving too fast.

Eventually, sleep takes him over, comically mid-sentence. He’s propped up against the side of the couch in a very uncomfortable looking way, but he doesn’t seem to mind. You’ve known him to fall asleep in worse situations,

When his breathing stills and his eyes close, you allow yourself to look at him as he is without fluttering hands and excited eyes. He’s calm and motionless, except for the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Everything about him is usually coiled for action, an easy tension running through his hands and his eyes, but now, now he’s undistributed and serene, laying with his hair splayed like a dark halo around his head.

Before you close your eyes, you tuck yourself close to him, fitting against his warmth like you’ve done so many times in the past, just like this, on deep-silence-ridden nights.

“You’re my movie,” you whisper into the dark, towards his sleeping figure. “You’re the one I write about.”

But of course, he doesn’t hear.

*

“Medre,” Zeffirelli swears, hopping around and trying to get his shoes on. “I have a test today.”

“You should have thought of that before you came over that early,” you admonish, watching him with amusement. “Why you didn’t think you would oversleep, I have no clue.”

“We’re in this class together, ensoleillement. You’re going to burn with me,” he warns, rushing a hand through his hair carelessly. It sticks up widely in every direction, but you know better than to try to fix it. Nothing can convince his hair to do anything except chaos.

“Yeah, but it’s so much more fun not to think about that.” Begrudgingly, you start to get ready as well. The floors creak under your feet as you shuffle to your bedroom, where a clean outfit is nowhere to be found.

For a moment, you let yourself think of the wild-haired, cigarette-smoking, arrogant person in the room next to you. His infuriating charm and charismatic persuasion captured you years ago, and you haven’t been able to get out of his orbit since then.

You may be his sunshine, but he’s your gravity, keeping you centered but tipping you over and surprising you at times.

“Dépêchez-vous,” Zeffirelli calls, rapping his knuckles against the wall. “Hurry up.” You know he doesn’t really care about making it to class on time, despite the panic, but you also know that he understands you well enough to know that you want to make it on time.

The film class you have this morning is one of your favorites, and you try and avoid missing it as much as you can. While your film studies class is more focused on the aspects of film, this class advises it’s students on the writing and cinematography that you need to make something truly special.

To make something worthy of a manifesto.

“Mon chéri, we have to go,” Zefirelli warns one last time before giving up and aimlessly wondering around your room.

“Don’t touch that,” you sigh, not having to look at Zeffirelli to know that he’s touching something he shouldn’t be touching. When you do look over, you see him flipping through your journal.

“I wasn’t doing anything,” Zeffirelli defends, hiding something behind his back. You send a glare in his direction and lean back in the chair by your mirror. The wood creaks underneath you and you stretch out your back, satisfying pops cascading up your spine.

“You have some deep dark secrets written in here?” His tone is joking, and he waves the journal in the air, taunting you.

“Grocery lists and middle-of-the-night thoughts,” you dismiss. “If you want to know when I forgot to pay the electricity bill, look on the fifth page.” You hope with everything you have that he’s going to let it go, but you have no such luck. He’s nothing if not absurdly relentless.

“I know for a fact that you don’t write anything like that down, it’s not worth the time. You just forget things like the rest of us.”

“Peut être. Still, put it down.” He doesn’t. Instead, he keeps reading with a grin on his face that slowly falls as he makes his way through the rest of the book.

“Is this- is this written about me?” he asks, disbelief written on his face. “Is this your movie?”

“I asked you to stop reading,” you defend miserably, hiding your head in your hands. “I know it’s strange, and I know I shouldn’t be writing about you like that. You don’t want to be heroic or some great leader, above everyone else, but I cannot help it if that’s who you are. Please understand, I only wrote what I saw.”

“I’m your movie? I’m what you have been furiously scribbling away at, working on late at night?”

“You’re my everything,” you admit honestly, softly, “How could you not be the plot of my movie too?” Zeffirelli walks slowly towards you and drops the journal on the floor. “I’m sorry, Zeffirelli.”

“Why?” he asks breathlessly, standing in between your legs and settling his hands on your shoulders. “What have you to be sorry for? You have immortalized be forever with your words. How can I be anything but grateful. If- if I ever gave you the idea that I do not burn for you- that I do not turn towards you in every room like you are the sun and I am a flower, then I can do nothing but apologize profusely. There is more than one reason that you are my ensoleillement. You are grumpy and rude and you give me shit for everything I do, but you also light up my days and nights. You are warmth and home. You are everything.” Zeffirelli’s voice is breathless and rushed, his hands coming up to cup your face. They’re shaky and the calluses on his fingertips are rough against your cheekbones, but you lean into them anyway.

“Zef,” you whisper, like it’s the only word you know. Just as soft as his words, his lips come down to yours, hesitantly at first, but more sure as you don’t protest.

He truly is your everything. That’s the only thing running through your mind as he kisses you with everything he has.

“We’re going to be late to your favorite class,” he gasps in between frantic kisses. “Don’t be angry at me when you have extra homework.”

“I make no promises,” you laugh, pulling him back into you. “But I’ll try my best.” For him, you’ll do anything.

He’s your ensoleillement, your sunshine, just as you’re his.

#tfd #you may be asking me why he’s using french endearments if he’s american and the answer is bc i like them more and also we were cheated #(lovingly bc i adore the movie) from timmy speaking french <33 #the french dispatch #french dispatch #zeffirelli #zeffirelli tfd #tfd zeffirelli #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #zeffirelli x reader #zeffirelli x you #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet fic #zeffirelli fic #zeffirelli fanfic #timothee x reader #timothee x you #timmy #nova writes

[francis-writes]

Hey. I habe an idea for a Corinthian request.

I was wondering if you could do something about bits and pieces of a trans male reader's transition journey with The Corinthian. Like them getting perscribed T, him helping the reader with their first shot, the first bit of side effects and maybe them getting top surgery? If that's all too much maybe just him helping the reader with their first shot

A/n: sorry it took so long - I'm not very happy about what I managed to write but well, every writer has their ups and downs.

Y/l/n = your last name

His phone rang. Corinthian was going to decline the call but he noticed it was you. It had to be something important - you knew what he was doing during his "trip" - so he immediately answered.

"Hello" "Hi Cori" your voice was full of excitement "Sorry for interrupting you. Are you busy?"

He looked at the lifeless body at his feet.

"No, go on"

"I finally got a prescription for T!" You practically yelled at your phone.

Corinthian smiled. He knew how much it meant for you.

"That's great, puppy. Did you already but it?"

"No, I am waiting for you. I need you to be eye-witness of this moment" "

I'll be back as soon as possible" he hung up the phone and grabbed a tissue to wipe off the blood from his face. Other victims could wait, there were more important things to do now.

*

"Are you sure you want me to do it?" Corinthian asked.

"You cut out people's eyes on daily basis, you certainly can make a simple injection" you snorted "If there's anyone I can trust with medical treatments and using sharp objects on my body, it's you"

"Not a very smart thing to say to a serial killer. But, you know, I meant that maybe you would rather do it yourself? It's a very signigicant moment"

You looked at him with indulgence.

"I can't, my hands are shaking from stress. Even if I found a muscle, I would stab my whole leg before I would hit the right spot. So, yeah, maybe another time"

"As you wish" Corinthian took a cotton pad soaked in alcohol and rubbed your thigh.

"Cori?" You asked when he was preparing syringe.

"Yes?"

"Even ignoring the fact that I can't do it myself, I really want you to do the injection. As you said, it's an important moment and you're important to me and I want to share this moment with you- uhm... I'm not sure if it makes sense-"

"It absolutely does" the Corinthian tucked a strand of hair behind your ear with his free hand "And it's a honor for me to accompany you during transition"

He gave you a quick kiss. You probably seemed disappointed when he broke the kiss because Corinthian said

"Don't worry, we'll finish it later. But now, be a good boy and don't move for a moment"

He stuck the needle and pulled the plunger back a bit to make sure there's no blood. When only bubbles appeared in syringe, he pushed plunger to the end. Corinthian pulled out needle and pressed a sterile swab to the place of injection.

"My first shot of T" you looked at your leg with excitation.

Corinthian smiled at you.

"Yeah, I think we need to celebrate it. What would you say about going to dinner?"

"Good idea but I'd rather order pizza and watch a movie in home. It's more private there, you know" you winked at him. Corinthian smiled and hand he kept on your other thigh, slided a bit higher.

"I agree"

*

"Why do you keep staring in the mirror?"

"I think my beard starts growing. You see? There are some hair"

"Maybe" Corinthian came closer, he put his arms around your waist and rested his head on your shoulder "Give it time"

"I'm waiting patiently" you said in a tone suggesting that your patience grows thin with every minute "But I don't know why instead of a beard, the first thing I got after testosterone is hairy ass"

"I wouldn't complain, you have a very fine ass"

"Oh, thank you" you turned your head and kissed him "But I still feel like all the changes happen very slowly"

"I understand but look at it that way: one year ago you didn't even get testosterone. Everything goes forward in its one motion. One year from now, everything will be different, just wait"

"I hope so"

You fell silent and looked in the mirror. After a few moments you asked

"Cori?"

"Yes?"

"Do you really think I have a fine ass?"

*

"It's the celebration of a nation!"

"What nation?"

"Deboobination!" You did a finger guns. Corinthian looked at you but you couldn't guess his reaction through his dark shades. You quickly added

"Sorry, it was a stupid joke"

"Are you sure that they didn't give you anesthesia yet? No funny gas?"

"Jeez, I'm just excited, okay?" You shrugged and smiled "I waited so long for this day. I will finally be a perfect man"

"You are already a perfect man. You can say, you're a man of my dreams"

"Is it the day of low jokes?"

"So it seems"

The doctor entered the room. They looked at the documents in their hands.

"Mister (y/l/n), we'll take you to the operating room in a moment. Say goodbye to your guest and get ready" after these words, they left.

You looked at your boyfriend.

"Is it just me or it really sounded as if I'm not going to leave the hospital alive?"

"Don't worry " he squeezed your hand "If anything happens, I will avenge you"

"That's not funny"

"Everything will be okay, trust me. Are you ready?"

You nodded. "Yes, I will never be more ready, I guess"

Corinthian smiled and kissed your forehead. "I will be waiting in the cafeteria. We'll see each other soon"

#the corinthian x transmasc reader #the corinthian imagine #the corinthian x reader #the corinthian #sandman imagine #the corinthian x trans reader #the corinthian x male reader

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Azusa Dark [Prologue]

ー The scene starts in the living room of the Mukami manor

Yui: ( I’m not going to leave Azusa-kun’s side. )

( I want us to stay together, forever... )

Azusa: ...Eve, what were you thinking of just now?

Yui: You, of course.

Azusa: ...I see. 

ー He steps closer

*Rustle*

Azusa: Thank you...You’re always on my mind as well.

Yui: Fufu, that makes two of us. 

( I’ll continue doing my best to try and make up for his one missing arm. )

( I want to live alongside him after all... )

Ruki: Anyway, make sure to prepare thoroughly for our set-off tomorrow morning. 

Yuma: Kou, ya better not oversleep.

Kou: Geezー I know!

ー The other three brothers leave

Yui: Azusa-kun, shall we get going too? 

Azusa: Yeah. I’ll come to your room once I’m done packing, okay...?

Yui: Fufu, thanks.

*TIMESKIP*

ー Yui arrives in front of Azusa’s room

Yui: ( I wonder if getting ready is taking time...? )

( I finished packing first so I came to his room but... )

*Knock knock*

Yui: Azusa-kun, I’m coming in, okay?

ー She enters his room

*Thud* 

Azusa: Ah, Eve...

I’m sorry, I know I said I would come to you...But I can’t seem to decide what to pack...

Yui: ( Wow! His bag is overflowing with all sorts of things... )

I’ll help out. What are you unsure about?

Azusa: Let’s see...There’s just so much I want to take with me...

Azusa: A change of clothes, a towel....my bandages...

The album which has photos of our family...also...

Yui: Fufu, you can’t take that many things with you, you know?

Azusa: ...You think so too?

Yui: Let’s pick out only the absolutely necessary things together.

*Rustle*

Yui: For example...Don’t you think they’ll have towels ready for us to use at Eden as well?

I do think a change of clothes and your bandages are necessary, but...Ah! I’ll let you borrow my hairbrush, okay?

Azusa: ...But...I don’t want to leave all of this behind...

Yui: Why? 

*Rustle*

Azusa: Take this towel, for example. It’s the same you used to dry my hair...

Also, this brush is also...the one you usually comb my hair with...

Yui: That’s impressive, Azusa-kun. You remembered all of those moments together...

( It’s honestly a little embarrassing... )

Azusa: I mean, the fact that we’re able to live together like this...is pretty much like a dream come true to me...

That’s why I recall all of them. They’re all happy memories, no matter how trivial they may seem...

Yui: ...Azusa-kun...

Then let’s put all extras in my luggage. 

I’ve got a bit of free space left. I’m not sure if everything will fit though...

Azusa: ...Are you sure?

Yui: Of course.

Your precious memories are important to me as well.

Azusa: ...You really are so kind.

ー Azusa embraces her

*Rustle*

Azusa: Thank you, Yui-san. For being with me...

Yui: ...!

Azusa: I lost...my left arm but I promise that I’ll try even harder...so we can stay together forever...

*Rustle* 

Azusa: So please, stay with me. Yui-san...Nn...

Yui: ...Ah, wait...

( His fangs are... )

Azusa: I’m sorry...I just got overwhelmed by happiness, making me crave for your blood...

But...You feel the same way, don’t you...?

You want...to be with me, right...?

Yui: ...Yeah...

Azusa: Fufu...Then you don’t mind, do you?

Nn...Nnh...Nn...

Yui: ...Uu...

*Rustle rustle* 

Azusa: This side’s up next...

*Rustle*

Azusa: Ah...

Yui: ( The bandage around his arm came loose...! )

*Rustle rustle* 

Yui: One second, I’ll wrap it back around real quick.

*Rustle* 

Azusa: ...Ah...

Yui: There you go, all done.

ー Azusa steps back

Azusa: ...

Yui: ...Azusa-kun? What’s wrong? 

Azusa: Oh no...It’s nothing. Thank you, Yui-san.

Yui: No need to thank me, really.

( He’s acting a little weird...? I wonder if he’s tired from everything which happened? )

Hey, Azusa-kun. Why don’t we call it a day?

Let’s finish packing tomorrow morning?

Azusa: ...Yeah, good idea.

Yui: ...

( Azusa-kun...There really is something off about him... )

( He was having so much fun packing his things up till now...I wonder what’s gotten into him? )

ー They move to the bed

*Rustle rustle*

Azusa: ...

Yui: ( I want to help him however I can. )

( I wonder if it’s okay for me to ask if there’s something weighing down on his mind? )

Azusa: Hey, Eve. Can I ask you something...?

Yui: Sure, what is it?

Azusa: Am I...unreliable to you...?

Yui: Of course not. In fact, you are very reliable in my eyes.

Azusa: ...I see.

Yui: ( Azusa-kun...Seems like he’s still worried about something. )

( Even though I told him how I feel, perhaps my answer wasn’t quite satisfying. )

L-Listen, Azusa-kunーー

Azusa: Goodnight, Yui-san.

Yui: R-Right. ...Goodnight.

( I feel like I got brushed off just now...Or am I just overthinking it? )

( Azusa-kun already has enough difficulties now that he’s lost his left arm. )

( I have to at least make it so he doesn’t need to worry about unnecessary things... )

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the gate to the Demon World

Ruki: ーー Everyone’s here, right? We’ll be setting off to Eden soon. 

Kou: Sure thing! Well then, Yuma-kun, take good care of these~

*Rustle rustle*

Yuma: Ah? ...Yer luggage?

Kou: I mean, I’m an idol, remember? You can’t expect me to walk all the way to Eden carrying such a heavy bag!

Yuma: Aah? And what makes ya think Imma be yer personal porter? If ya can’t carry it yerself, you’re gonna have to leave it behind.

Kou: Ehー!? That’s so petty of you, Yuma-kun!

Yui: ( Those two never change. )

( It almost makes me forget that danger is lurking in the back... )

Azusa: Ah...Eve. I’ll carry your bag...

Yui: It’s fine. You’ve got your own luggage as well so carrying both must be tough, right?

Azusa: ...Yeah.

Yui: ( ...I did the right thing, no? )

( I won’t cause him any worries if I carry my own weight. )

Monologue

The journey to Eden,

was even longer than I thought.

After making it past the underground waterway,

and walking through the forest of the Demon World for a while,

we were hit by a sudden downpour.

We had faith in Ruki-kun’s prediction,

that it was most likely just a quick shower,

as we decided to take a small break,

inside a nearby cave. 

ー The scene shifts to the cave

Yuma: ...Doesn’t seem like this rain will lift any time soon.

Ruki: It can’t be helped. I suppose we’ll set up camp here for tonight.

Yuma, come with me. We’ll go and gather some branches to make a fire.

Yuma: Sure.

ー Ruki and Yuma leave

Kou: Uu...These wet clothes feel icky...

Azusa: Eve, are you alright...? Won’t you catch a cold at this rate...?

Yui: Oh no. I’m totally fiーー Achoo!

I-I’m sorry...I guess it’s a little cold after all...

( Shame on me. I can’t believe I’m worrying him by sneezing right off the bat. )

Azusa: You should probably wipe yourself dry...

One second...I’ve got a towel in my bag...

*Rustle rustle*

Azusa: ...It won’t open...

Kou: Give that to me, Azusa-kun. I’ll open it for you.

Azusa: Eh? But...

Kou: Oh come on, don’t mention it! We’re meant to help out each other in times like these, no?

Azusa: ...Yeah.

ー Kou opens up his bag

Kou: ー Ah, there it is! Here, M-neko-chan.

ー Kou hands her the towel

*Rustle*

Yui: Thank you, Kou-kun.

You too, Azusa-kun.

Azusa: ...

Yui: ...What’s wrong? You seem a little down...

Azusa: It’s nothing. The rain’s...just making me feel a little gloomy, that’s all...

Yui: ...I see. I’m sorry for asking a weird question.

( I wonder if it’s really just because of the rain? )

( I feel as if there’s something else behind it as well... )

L-Listen, Azusa-kun. If anything’s bothering you, you canーー

Azusa: ーー Eve. I’m fine...

Yui: R-Right...

( ...Seems like he didn’t want me to ask. With how he acted yesterday as well, I guess he really is avoiding me... )

Kou: ...

Hmー ...I’m not sure what’s going on here, but why don’t we go look for some dry branches as well?

Let’s collect a bunch more than the other two guys so we can rub it in their faces. Okay?

Yui: G-Good idea.

Azusa: ...

Monologue

ーー The next day.

After somehow making it all the way to Eden,

the scenery which awaited us there,

was that of the Castle,

which had clearly known better times.

ー The scene shifts to the flower field

Kou: ...I guess this place is no better. I honestly didn’t think Eden was in this dire of a state...

Azusa: ...

Ruki: It would appear that Sakamaki Kanato is unstable after all.

Yuma: Whatcha mean by that?

Ruki: Eden is spiritually connected to its owner, Sakamaki Kanato.

The Castle has fallen into ruin because both his mind and his powers are unstable. 

Kou: So we need to ensure that Kanato-kun gains control over own emotions and powers for Eden to return to normal? 

Hmー ...That might be pretty difficult. I mean, it’s Kanato-kun we’re talking about...

Ruki: Yes. Not only has he always been emotionally unstable, he is not the type of guy who would listen to the advice of others.

I feel that if we were to try and inform him about the situation at Eden, it would only make the situation worse.

Yuma: So we’re out of options?

Azusa: I wonder...if Kanato-san needs Eve perhaps?

Yui: Eh?

Azusa: I mean, I’m sure for him to become stable...He needs to become Adam...

To achieve that...He needs Eve. In that case, I...

Yui: Y-You’re wrong, Azusa-kun...!

I chose to be with you, remember...? So please don’t think that way...

Ruki: She’s right.

Besides, if Sakamaki Kanato were to deem Eve necessary, I am sure he will come to steal her sooner rather than later.

You don’t need to worry. Okay?

Azusa: But...

Ruki: Sure, you cannot become Adam. ...However, you love each other, don’t you?

You are the one Eve needs. Don’t get that mixed up.

Kou: Exactly, Azusa-kun! You shouldn’t be too pessimistic!

Yuma: If that gremlin tries to take her away from ya, we’ll beat his sad ass for ya!

Azusa: Right...Thanks, guys.

Yui: ( I’m glad Azusa-kun seems to have calmed down... )

( But...Will everything be okay? )

( I can tell something has been weighing heavy on his mind this whole time. )

( I just hope that he won’t keep thinking so negatively... )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #azusa mukami #lost eden #diabolik lovers translation #leazusadarkprolog

[chiefnooniensingh]

I think I'm gonna love you (for a long, long time)

Pairing: La'an Noonien-Singh/James T. Kirk

Rating: E

Summary: “Buy me a drink next time we’re on Starbase together.” La'an and Jim are finally on Starbase together, able to get that drink that was promised. Will lightning strike twice?

A/N: I had a lot of issues with the smut because a) I'm pretty sure I'm ace, b) haven't written smut in a good long while, c) haven't gotten laid in a good long while. But I'm very pleased with how it came out. Enjoy yourself!

AO3

“Buy me a drink next time we’re on Starbase together.”

It’s not like La’an hadn’t badgered the living daylights out of Sam these last few weeks, for every scrap of information about this timeline’s James Insane Middle Name Kirk. She knew a lot about him now. His inability to accept a lost cause. His penchant to flirt with everything with a heartbeat (she had to admit, that one stung a bit. Which was insane because they weren’t anything to each other in this timeline). His absolute dedication to Starfleet and the resulting skirmishes he’d gotten himself into. If Sam wondered why La’an suddenly showed so much interest in his brother she’d never met, he didn’t ask.

She did prepare for this moment. She really did. But seeing the USS Faragut docked next to the Enterprise still sent a rush of nerves through her. It was ridiculous. Like she was a teenager about to see her crush, not a decorated abuse survivor, she spent the first two days picking up her Padd and putting it back down again, her finger hovering over his name for several long moments.

In the end it was Una who called her out on it, because who else would have the nerve? “Who or what is on your Padd that has you reaching for it every other minute?” she asked, after La’an had indeed reached for her Padd for the 10th time during their meal.

La’an sighed, biting the inside of her cheek in frustration. It was accutely annoying that she couldn’t talk to those closest to her about her experiences in the alternate timeline. She was sure Una would not only understand, but also know what to do about her predicament. “It’s just...” Words were failing her. “I’ve had an experience recently. It…changed me.”

“Is this when you arrived in a strange leather outfit on the Bridge?” Una asked, eyeing her shrewdly. La’an’s breath stilled in her throat, and she gaped at Una. Was she that obvious? “Oh please,” Una said, waving her look away, “I’ve known you longer than most. You looked like you’d seen a ghost. And you’ve been distant and quiet ever since.”

La’an looked down at her hands, her fingers fidgeting as she tried to find the words. “I…saw things…experienced things…that day. I was told not to tell.”

“Oh god,” Una groaned, sitting back and taking an annoyed sip of her tea. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with time travel, would it?”

La’an looked up sharply. She knew Una was smart, but the way the Commander sometimes seemed to know more than was possible, was unnerving. “How the…”

“I’ve had some run-ins with the future and the past,” Una said, glancing at something over La’an’s shoulder. La’an tried not to look, but was very aware of the loud voices of Captain Pike and Lieutenant Ortegas rising up from the table behind them. “La’an, you don’t have to tell me anything. But whatever you went through, it was important enough to change you. If there’s something you need to do now, you should do it. What is stopping you?”

La’an nodded slowly, her eyes moving away from Una’s face and to her Padd. She knew what was stopping her. James didn’t remember her. For him, nothing ever happened. How would she ever, ever explain her fixation with him? La’an let out a disbelieving breath as she realized the feeling that was holding her back: fear. She was afraid. La’an Noonien-Singh faced off with the Gorn on multiple occassions, but a meeting with a boy made her more afraid to pick up a Padd than a phaser. This was ridiculous. “I’ll explain everything to you later, I promise,” La’an said, suddenly jumping up and grabbing her Padd in one fluid movement.

Una smiled, her eyes twinkling in a way that made La’an believe she had realized what this all was about. Una was way too perceptive for her own good. “I’m looking forward to it. Go on.” She jerked her chin to the exit, and off La’an went, opening a connection to the Starbase network.

“Computer, locate Lieutenant James T. Kirk.”

“Lieutenant James T. Kirk is on Deck 10, subsection 5.”

La’an found the nearest turbolift, got in, and then stared at the controls for a second, gathering some more strength. “Deck 10,” she finally told the lift, hating how much her voice was trembling. La’an wasn’t usually a nervous person. She bullied emotions like that into submission long before they had a chance to ruin her day. But she couldn’t run away from this. She was on her way to meet a man she’d never met, who meant more to her than most people did.

What a mind-job, she thought, and couldn’t help but chuckle as the turboliftdoors opened to Deck 10–

–and she ran right into one very surprised James T. Kirk.

La’an, who’d never been at a loss for words in her career, could only gape at him as he looked at her, and then smiled an easy smile she recognized from his other self. Her stomach did a summer sault without her permission. “La’an Noonien-Singh!” he said, sounding pleased.

“Jam – er, Lt. Kirk!” she managed to stutter out, as she stepped aside to let him into the turbolift with her.

“Deck 2,” Kirk told the turbolift, and they whooshed off. “It’s good to finally meet you in person, Lieutenant. Has my brother been behaving himself?” Another charming smile lit up his face, and just like that, La’an felt herself relax.

“Well, according to him, it’s you who’s the more troublesome Kirk brother,” La’an said, feeling her face split into a teasing grin.

Kirk closed his eyes in mock hurt and laughed. “No fair, he’s had the advantage of several missions with you to make me look bad!”

La’an laughed, too, startling herself a little. “I should be sorry to believe half of his ridiculous stories.”

“Well,” Kirk said, rubbing a hand across his neck, shooting her a bashful look through his eyelashes, “I’m pretty sure at least half of them are true. But at least allow me the opportunity to set the record straight. I might be a troublemaker, but he is no saint. I was just on my way to the bar. Join me, so you can buy me that drink you promised?”

Damn, he was a smooth talker in any timeline. La’an felt her cheeks redden a bit as she remembered their banter over hotdogs. “I distincly remember you arrogantly presuming I’d buy you that drink,” she said, her voice laced with laughter as he faked another hurt look, “but you’ve got me intrigued about Sam. Alright, Lieutenant. I’ll buy you that drink.”

Kirk’s answering smile was enough to brighten up the whole turbolift.

----

“You can’t possibly expect me to believe that Sam Kirk stole your mum’s car? And then drove it of a cliff?!”

Kirk laughed, taking a sip from his brandy, and holding up his hands. “Hey, if you don’t believe me, ask him yourself! The man is a terrible liar, you’ll sniff him right out!”

La’an put down her own drink to protect it from spilling. She couldn’t remember ever having laughed so much in a single night, but every anecdote Kirk told was as hilarious as the last, and it seemed he never grew tired of sharing them and making her laugh. Whenever she did laugh, she noticed his eyes lighting up as he looked at her, as if he was singularly enjoying her joy. It was usually hard to keep her old and new memories separate, but she hadn’t thought about the other timeline’s Kirk for quite a while. This Kirk was very adept at making her forget pretty much everything. “My god, I am going to make his life hell the next time I do a routine inspection. Underneath his bed, you say?”

Kirk nodded with a grin, turning slightly in the booth they were occupying and leaning closer conspiratorily. “He has never changed his hiding spot. My brother, though I love him, of course, is very preditable and very easy to tease.”

“I’m not sure any of these stories should go in his permanent record, but thank you for sharing them either way, Lieutenant.”

Kirk’s grin softened into a smile. “La’an, why don’t you just call me Jim? We’re both off duty here.”

Hearing her name spoken that softly sent a whole new host of feelings coursing through her body, but she clamped them down. “Alright. Jim.” It felt strange – how right that felt. She’d called the other Kirk James. But somehow that didn’t feel right with this Kirk. Jim was much more fititng for the man sitting across from her, telling stories, caring not a lick about who she was or why she’d called him with the strangest and most mundane question ever. “Thank you, Jim. I can’t remember having this much fun in a while.”

Kirk cocked his head, looking at her with narrowed, searching eyes. “Come on, that can’t be true.”

“It’s true,” La’an said, tearing her gaze away from his and staring at the table. “Other people are…usually difficult for me.” Oh God, she thought horrified. She’d had this exact conversation with him in another life. Another time. Another him. “There’s always been this barrier, and it gets…lonely. But you…”

It wasn’t fair. What she was doing to herself, what she was expecting him to say. She wasn’t being fair to either of them, but she didn’t seem to be able to stop the words from pouring out of her. And apparently, he was more like his counterpart than she thought, because he smiled, ducking his head, and said, “Me? I’m…special?”

La’an laughed, her heart in her throat. “Well, no. But yes. A bit of both?” She shook her head to get rid of the memories, then looked up into his eyes. She was shocked by how sincerely he was paying attention to her, singularly focussed on every line. “Anyway. I don’t usually get to have fun like this, even when on shore leave, so thank you.”

Jim raised his glass to her. “Well, it was my absolute pleasure.” She raised her own glass as well and took a sip. Somehow, she’d missed when he moved his arm to rest on the back of the couch they were sharing, his hand now resting inches from her shoulder. She wondered if he did it on purpose, then scolded herself for hoping. Then again, her leg had definitely brushed his on several occassions during the evening. All on accident, of course.

For the first time that evening, she looked up. The bar was a lot emptier than it had been when they arrived, and when she checked the time she was shocked to notice it was well past midnight. They’d been sitting here for the better part of four hours and she hadn’t noticed at all. Though on shore leave, La’an had planned a surprise inspection of the lower decks in the morning, but she could already tell that wasn’t going to happen. Her head was buzzing with the small amount of alcohol she had consumed, and her heart was racing with the proximity to Jim. She’d wondered how much he would be like his alternate self. He was close enough for her feelings to be still there, but far enough that it didn’t hurt to look at him as much as she had expected. He was still looking at her as he was finishing his brandy, and shot her another smile when he did. “We seem to be overstaying our welcome,” he whispered conspiratorily, leaning in closer to her and jerking his head towards the bar. She looked surreptitiously in that direction, and saw the bartender shooting them exasperated looks. “If we order another drink, do you think they’ll try to phaser us?”

La’an turned back to him to answer but was stopped short when she noticed how much closer he was now leaning. His hand was also very lightly touching her arm now. Clearing her throat, ignoring the burning sensation even that lightest touch was causing, she forced a chuckle. “I think we’d better not risk it. I rather like this place and would hate to be banned.”

Jim still hadn’t moved, his face now so close to hers that she could feel his breath. It carried a hint of the brandy he was drinking. “Good point,” he conceded, and then, seemingly with tremendous effort, pulled himself out of the booth. “Allow me to walk you to your quarters?” He extended his hand for her to take.

La’an would usually have denied. She didn’t need an escort, she was perfectly able to take care of herself, thank you very much. But she didn’t want this night to end. Her experiences with the alternate Jim aside, this had truly been a wonderful night, and she wondered how long it would be until she’d experience another. Everything ends, but she could delay their parting a bit longer. So she took his hand and allowed him to pull her out of the booth. She felt the loss when he let go. They walked together, slowly, both clearly unwilling for this night to end. Jim followed La’an’s lead, even when she took the long way ‘round to the Enterprise. He didn’t comment on that fact, merely kept up the steady stream of conversation the entire way to the ship. The ship was empty when they entered, the night shift well under way and everyone else either on Starbase or in their quarters. They fell silent automatically, as if the ship being on night shift somehow meant they had to be quiet.

“La’an, when you said there’s always been a barrier, what did you mean?” Jim asked, startling La’an out of her quiet enjoyment. She looked at him from the corner of her eyes and saw him looking at her intently.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t know?” La’an said, deflecting. She didn’t really want to talk about it, but also didn’t want to stop him from talking.

Jim nodded pensively. “Your name.” La’an nodded. They stepped into the Turbolift and were quiet all the way to her deck. “What makes me different, then?” he asked, when they stepped off the Turbolift on her deck.

More than I can ever tell you, La’an thought, but instead she said, “Since the first second we talked, you’ve never treated me different because of my last name. Almost everybody else starts out distrusting, sometimes even hating. But not you. You didn’t even blink.”

Jim nodded as they slowly made their way to her quarters. “I’ve never been a fan of judging someone because of their family. Genetics mean nothing. We’re all born with the capacity for good and evil. It’s our choices that define us, not our blood.”

La’an chuckled softly. “You’re the second person to say that to me recently.”

“Well, I am very wise,” Jim said, his tone once again teasing, causing La’an to laugh.

“Sure.” The mock hurt look crossed his face again and La’an shook her head with a smile. “Anyway. My last name has always been a…scarlet letter…” What the hell are you doing, she scolded at herself, but the words were already out of her mouth… “…my whole life. It’s nice to have someone treat me like I’m not wearing it.”

He looked at her, confused. Seriously? “Really? Hawthorne? Late 19th century Earth?” She was having an intense amount of deja-vu. She decided to push it. “It’s about a, eh - a woman who’s marked. Like the mark of Cain.” Again he pulled that perfectly innocent confused face. The most frustrating thing was that she still didn’t know if he was joking, because this Jim was not the other one. He might actually not have read it. They came to a halt in front of her door, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “You’ve never heard of…?”

Jim laughed, but not at her. Just…at his own stupid joke. “Yes, obviously I’ve heard of Hawthorne and the Old Testament.” He stepped closer to her, invading her personal space, forcing her to tilt her head slightly to maintain eye contact.

And suddenly, La’an knew exactly what was about to happen.

“I’m messing with you,” he said softly.

La’an had had enough. Her heart was racing a mile a minute, but she kept her eyes on him. His pupils were blown wide as he stared at her intensely. “You asshole,” she whispered, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him in. Their lips met, and La’an melted. This kiss was nothing like the other one. In fact. In fact. La’an could barely even remember alternate James right now. This kiss was heated, full of promise and an evening of built up tension, and he was kissing her as enthousiastically as she felt. She wrapped her arms around his neck, as Jim slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him as he deepened their kiss. She felt him pressed against every single inch of her body, and she thought she might burn up if she didn’t do something, anything, more. She ran a hand through his short hair, finding leverage as she pushed up on her tiptoes to get closer, to feel more of him. She felt more than heard him chuckle, the vibrations going through her like music. When she didn’t think she could stand another second without some air, she broke their kiss, keeping her forehead pressed against his. They were both breathing heavily, and Jim was still holding onto her waist tightly. “Do you want…” La’an said, her breathing embarassingly laboured. “Do you want to come in?” Her hand was already moving towards the lock.

Jim held her in place for a moment, his lips ghosting over hers, enticingly, seductively. “Yes,” he said softly, before kissing her again in a way that sent an electric shock from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. La’an reached blindly towards the lock of her door, had to give it three tries, but then opened the door and they stumbled inside, trying to stay as close together as possible and create enough space to get rid of some clothes at the same time. “La’an…” Jim muttered when she finally got rid of her jacket and she was just wearing her black tanktop. His hands ran up her sides, exploring, soaking her in, causing goose bumps to erupt all over her skin. La’an gasped as he lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist automatically. “I’ve been wanting to do this all night,” he said as he buried his face in her neck, kissing and licking and sucking his way up towards her mouth. La’an scoffed, and Jim pulled his head back to look at her. His gaze was deadly serious. “You don’t believe me?”

“You hardly know me.”

Jim lifted a single shoulder. “Every time I made you laugh, I felt like I got some private view of you that nobody else gets to see. Every time your leg accidentally brushed mine I felt like I was going to crawl out of my skin. You underestimate the effect you have on me. And how much I want you to be wearing much less clothes than you are right now.”

La’an squealed (thank God Una wasn’t around to hear this) as he moved quickly across her room, deposited her on the couch and starting working on undoing her pants. “Jim…” she whispered, cheeks flushing at how needy she sounded. She reached out, touching his face, and he got the message. He surged up to kiss her again, his mouth hungry but soft, allowing her to set the pace and giving her room to pull back should she want to.

She really, really didn’t want to. With one hand in his hair, the other traveled downwards to his pants. She attempted to undo it, but in the proces brushed right over his crotch, and she felt exactly how much truth was behind his words. He gasped at her touch, pressing his face against her neck with a groan. “La’an, I swear to God…” he said, his voice already broken. She’d barely even touched him yet. A rush of power surged through La’an. She was doing that to serial womanizer Jim Kirk. It was euphoric, her eyes rolling in the back of her head as she let out a giggle.

So many things she would never, ever tell another living soul she was capable off.

Her laughter died out quickly, because he’d managed to undo her pants and hadn’t waited to pull it down before moving his hand to where she needed him most, thrusting first one, then soon after two fingers inside her. His thumb traced lightly but surely over her clit. With a whine, La’an arched her back at his touch. Jim kissed his way down her body, smiling against her belly at the noises he was drawing out of her with every move of his hand.

It didn’t take long. Her body had been on edge the entire night (the accidental touches had had their effect on her as well), and Jim worked her expertly, touching her exactly how she needed it. Needed him. She fell apart with his name on her lips, a sound which he immediately swallowed with a kiss. “You’re even more beautiful when you come undone beneath me,” he whispered hoarsely. La’an laughed as her heartrate slowly returned to normal and her breathing slowed down. Jim looked down at her with a big smile, removing his hand from between her legs (she didn’t whine at the loss, she did not).

“You’re entirely too good at that,” she said, when she finally caught her breath. Jim leant down, capturing her mouth in a soft kiss. It sent a tingle straight to her belly and her breath shuddered as she kissed him back languidly. “Jim…”

“I hope you’ll let me stay a little longer, because I – ” Jim said, moving to kiss her neck, “– am – ” kiss “– not – ” kiss “– done with you.” La’an couldn’t believe this was happening; not by any stretch of the imagination did she think she would’ve ended up with Jim Kirk in her quarters when she went to find him earlier today.

But she’d spent enough time underneath him for now. Grinning mischievously, she put her hands on his shoulders and flipped him over. He landed with an oof against the back of the couch. She climbed on his lap, putting her legs on either side of his thighs. His eyes were wide as he looked up at her, his hands landing on the back of her legs. “I hope you’ll stay a while,” La’an said, winding her hands in his hair and tilting his head back, “because I’m not done with you, either.” Then she slammed her mouth against his. His fingers dug into the flesh of her legs in response. She felt him groan as she nipped at his bottom lip, and another rush of power went through her.

“Fuck, La’an, you’re going to be the end of me,” he rasped when they broke apart. His hands slid a bit higher, grabbing her ass and pulling her closer still. “You know, it’s strange…” he continued, as he kept staring up into her eyes, hardly blinking. “…and this is going to sound like a line…but I have this really strange feeling that I know you – have known you for longer than tonight.”

La’an felt her heart begin to race. “Well, maybe we went to the Academy together.” It sounded flimsy, even to her. But there was no earthly – timely? – way that he had any memories of a timeline that never existed.

Jim shook his head, then raised his hand to cup her cheek. “I would definitely have remembered you. You are…mesmerizing.”

La’an blushed, but managed a laugh. “Okay, that was definitely a line.”

Then Jim smirked, and the weird deja-vu moment was over. “Alright, maybe,” he teased, pulling her down with a hand in her neck, “But I do mean it.” He kissed her again, sloppy and hungry, which she felt to the tips of her toes. She moaned into his mouth, causing his hips to jerk in response. “And I love the sounds you make. Can I please take you to bed now?”

La’an pushed herself up from his lap with more reluctance than she’d ever admit, and stood over him with her hands on her hips. “These are my quarters, Lieutenant Kirk. I believe I shall take you to bed.” Then she divested herself from her pants and tank top, and turned her back to him, walking towards her bed with an extra sway in her hips.

“Fuck,” she heard him mutter, before he scrambled to his feet and followed her.

Later La’an would blush and wonder how she’d ever gotten this bold. But she’d been driven out of her mind with want, and thoughts had a way of not taking root in her head. The only thing going through her head was how much she wanted him, and how much he seemed to want her. She turned to face him again, finding him closer than expected, which caused her breath to catch. Jim put his hands on her hips, pressed his forehead against hers, and everything seemed to slow down for a moment. They swayed like that together, breathing each other in, and La’an was hit again with that same feeling of rightness, of comfort, that she’d felt with his other self. She wondered if that meant anything. She also couldn’t get herself to unpack that right now. “Jim?”

“Mmm?”

“You’re wearing far too many clothes.”

Jim smirked. “Yes, ma’am.” Without any more protest, he undid his shirt and tossed it over his shoulder. Then he got rid of his pants, leaving only his boxers to give her imagination something to do.

La’an stared, breathless. She remembered seeing him in the dressing room after he took off the sweater, and feeling flustered and a little bit attracted to him. That same feeling overwhelmed her now. She remembered wanting to run her hands down the planes of his chest. And then she realized that she actually could now. He was breathing hard and she felt his breath hitch when she put her hands on his chest. As frantic as the first couple of minutes of this night had been, now they’d slowed it down. La’an’s senses were heightened more than usual, and she was extremely aware of every move Jim’s body made. Jim lifted his hand to her shoulder and slowly slipped his fingers underneath the strap of her bra, keeping his eyes fixed on hers. She gazed back, sure and unafraid, and allowed him to inch the strap down her arm. He leaned down and started trailing kisses over her shoulder in the wake of her bra strap, causing La’an’s breath to hitch. He then reached around and undid her bra with deft fingers. Her breath caught again as she allowed her bra to drop. Jim let his eyes roam across her, and La’an fought her instinct to cover herself up.

But he smiled, letting his large hands roam across the skin of her back. “You’re beautiful,” Jim whispered, before running a single finger across her nipple. La’an gasped, trembling. “You’re so reactive.” He sounded absolutely delighted by that fact. He was gazing down at her with a sly smirk.

La’an grabbed him by the shoulders, spun him around and pushed him down onto the bed. “My turn,” she said, moving to straddle his hips. Jim immediately let his hands wander up her legs and to her hips, his own hips jerking involuntarily.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, his voice rough and gravelly. The sound went straight through her to a place low in her stomach, and La’an didn’t resist the urge to lean over him and kiss him senseless. When she rolled her hips, he groaned against her mouth, tightening his grip on her hips. “La’an…” The way he said her name drove her out of her mind. She had to do something right now, or she might just burst out of her skin. She climbed off him for a moment, and enjoyed the whine he let out at the loss of contact, but used the wider range of motion to rid herself of her underwear, and to start to work on his. He got the message quickly, and moved to help her. Then he immediately pulled her back on top of her, clearly as eager as she was to have as little space between them as possible.

He pulled her down to him for a searing kiss. Their bodies were practically flush together, naked skin to naked skin, but it wasn’t nearly enough. After months of wanting, La’an was aching for him in ways she hadn’t experienced in…well, maybe ever. He seemed to be feeling the same, because he put his hands on her hips as he broke the kiss, looking up at her, eyes blazing. “La’an, I need you,” he whispered, pulling her down against him by her hips, causing them both to groan at the contact.

“Jim…” she gasped, her hands flying to his hair. She lifted her hips, letting the tip of him slide through her folds. “God…”

Jim’s fingers tightened on her hips. “You’re so wet,” he gasped out. La’an leaned down to kiss him, and as she did so, she slowly lowered herself down on him. “Holy mother of God…” he groaned, his grip on her hips now bruising. La’an’s hands dug into the sheets underneath them in an effort to keep any semblance of control about her, but it was a losing battle. Even more so when he bucked his hips and slowly started moving.

I can’t believe this is actually happening, La’an thought, waves of pleasure washing over her as she pressed her face into his neck, moaning softly. She moved her hips slowly, in time with his thrusts, and it was almost torture. La’an couldn’t figure out if she needed things to speed up or if this slow, gentle pace was exactly what she needed. Maybe both could be true. Her brain was hardly supplying any helpful input, it was almost exclusively sending out static noise of pure pleasure. She was making a whole slew of noises which she could only sort of identity; she was pretty sure his name tumbled from her lips most frequently. He was muttering, too, sweet nothings and something dirtier in her ear as he kept thrusting, his hands coming up to bracket her face and kiss her again  “Jim…” she moaned, as he hit a particular spot inside of her, which caused her to throw her head back in ecstasy. “Jim, please…more…”

“More?” Jim said, hoarsely, sounding wrecked and smug at the same time. “Yes, ma’am, more coming right up.” In one smooth, fluid motion, he grabbed her around the waist and spun them around so that he was now hovering over her. They stared at each other for a moment, breaths laboured, and then Jim kissed her, running his hands up the sides of her body all the way to her hands, which he then pinned to the mattress above her head. La’an was never going to admit to the sound that escaped her mouth at that.

Their pace picked up after that. Their fingers entwined, and a broken moan came from Jim as he buried his face in her neck. They held onto each other as if letting go would mean being set adrift in the cold emptiness of space, and the only thing keeping them warm was the feel of each other’s bodies moving together, in sync, frantic, sloppy. La’an felt a pressure built somewhere behind her navel, but it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough, and she whined, not able to put words to what she wanted. It was like Jim read her mind though. He let one of her hands go and slipped his now free hand between their bodies to again find her clit. His fingers moved expertly, and this was what La’an was missing. The only sounds coming out of her mouth now were disjointed words, moans and sometimes his name. She had no control over what her brain and her body were doing, and it was wonderful. For the first time in a long, long time, her overactive brain was minding its own business, allowing her to enjoy everything happening to her body right now. “Come on, La’an…” Jim whispered in her ear, at which the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. “Come with me…”

And that was it.

With a sob, La’an crashed over some invisible precipice, wrapping her arms around Jim’s neck to anchor herself. Her own orgasm seemed to trigger his; he followed not two seconds after, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss, swallowing her cries.

Slowly, very slowly, La’an’s consciousness returned to her, finding Jim with his face pressed against her chest, still gasping, and yet also managing to press kisses to her damp skin in between. La’an couldn’t for the life of her remember the last time she had been so satisfied; her entire body was buzzing with electricity, overly sensitive to even the lightest touch in the best way.

Jim was the first one to find his voice. Sort of. “That…that was…” He was still breathing hard, and he seemed to have difficulty focussing. He lifted his head to look at her, his eyes shining bright, his brows slightly furrowed as if confused. “Jesus,” he breathed, before surging up to kiss her again. La’an, sated and content, felt a slight tug in her stomach as he did; his kisses were phenomenal.

La’an was the first to find her voice and to be able to form actual sentences. “So, that happened,” she said, her voice surprisingly steady. Jim nodded, laughing softly, as he nuzzled her cheek. He seemed uneager to move off of her, but she was also feeling the height and weight difference he had on her. She pushed his shoulder lightly, and, getting the hint, he rolled off of her. She followed him immediately however, giving in to the desire to stay close to him. She rested her head on his chest as his arm came around her, pulling her close. He burried his nose in her hair, which sent a whole new flock of butterflies through La’an’s belly.

They were silent for a long time, both of them coming down from their high, both of them basking in the pleasure of what had just tranpsired. It was Jim who broke the silence first. “Are you alright?” he asked.

La’an frowned, looking up at him, finding him looking slightly worried. “What do you mean?” She raised her hand to run a finger down the side of his face, a movement which had Jim leaning into the touch.

“Just that I can…forget myself, sometimes.” Jim closed his eyes for a moment before looking straight at her. “I’m sure Sam has told you that my feelings can get the better of me. Make me…impulsive sometimes. Unthinking.” He slipped his hand in her neck, his thumb stroking the side of his face. “I hope I didn’t…”

“Hurt me?” La’an supplied. She smiled when he nodded, turning her head to kiss the palm of his hand. “Jim…what about me says ‘I will let someone hurt me without repercussions’?”

Jim stared at her for a second, stunned, but then burst into laughter. “That’s a valid point, Lieutenant La’an Noonien-Singh.”

La’an pushed herself up on one arm so she could look down at him. “So, Lieutenant James Tiberius Kirk, why don’t you just shut up and kiss me before you say something else ridiculous?”

Jim moved his hand into her hair and tightened his grip, making La’an gasp. The fire that had been doused for a few minutes raged again in her stomach, and La’an’s lips parted. Jim’s eyes flicked down, his gaze darkening. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, his voice low, and then he pulled her down hard, crushing his mouth to hers. La’an swung her leg over his torso and got settled. “Comfortable?” he asked with a grin when they broke apart for a few moments.

La’an put her hands on his chest to keep him down against the mattrass, teasing him a little. “Very.” She moved her hands up to his hair, winding her hands in the soft strands, and then tightening her grip. He moaned softly, which delighted La’an to no end. “Mmm, ready for round two, Lieutenant Kirk?”

Jim smiled up at her, his hands moving up to her bare breasts. La’an gasped, arching into his touch. “Very much so, Lieutenant Noonien-Singh.”

Laughing, La’an leaned back down to kiss him.

Round two.

#star trek snw #strange new worlds #snw fanfic #snw ff #ka'an fanfic #ka'an #ka'an ff #lilysfics #lenievi #i have struggled with the smut until 4am yesterday #and all day today

[silyabeeodess]

FusionFall Headcanons: Post-battle Clean-up and Restoration

An important role of the Fusion Fighters that can often go overlooked is the clean-up efforts conducted after each battle. Even if tasks such as rebuilding a lot of infrastructure sometimes have to wait since it will most likely end up ruined again during the next monster wave, paths need to be cleared and fusion matter can't be allowed to build up. It's definitely a dirty, deadly job, but someone has to do it!

Even if the area is cleared of fusion monsters, leaving any large build-ups of fusion matter sitting around can put an area at-risk. Not only is it still a poisonous substance to most all life on Earth, large amounts left unattended will increase the likelihood of stronger monsters respawning. There's also the possibility of Gooby Traps left scattered around, which will absolutely cause fusion matter to spread in-mass. Worst-case-scenario, it may even create a new infection zone. As such, whether you are on a bomb squad or are acting as a standard service troop, you have to be thorough. Teams with these jobs will often include antidote nanos and even imaginary friends. To add to their numbers, some of these antidote nanos may include those from separate teams--giving them both an active role and chance to practice their abilities while their IE Donors are elsewhere.

Urban areas tend to receive more care than rural areas do, which is why--with the exception of smaller sites within them like infection zones--they can seem pretty clean overall to us despite the constant fighting taking place there. Even if Fuse targets them heavily, they have more resources to handle repairs and, as mentioned before, are already very much prepared to deal with them due to enduring countless monster attacks on a regular basis prior to the war. People may have to shift around some of those resources, like focusing on the main slider rather than consistently keeping up with the whole network within the City, due to matters such as time constraints; however, there just aren't as many destroyed or morphed landscapes as you see out in the wilderness.

There are a couple of reasons why rural areas/the wilderness don't receive the same attention. They simply don't have the same number of eyes to report where the damaged/infected sites are and there aren't enough resources to handle them to the same degree. Fuse doesn't use this to his advantage often only because he'd rather focus on taking out populated areas first and knows how his enemies would catch on if he did. Instead, he typically allows for fusion matter to make a much slower advance throughout the wilderness, allowing for it to go mostly unnoticed until it's too late. We see the end result of this through things like the infected trees in the Really Twisted Forest or how much worse the infection zones often are in the wilds. The Fusion Fighters in these locations combat this by having more scouts in a separate, more specific role focusing on clean-up, or by working with groups such as the KND SKWID squad, whose purpose in the war is largely to defend Earth's oceans and its wildlife.

Furthermore, while people can repair strips of road and damaged buildings, restoring wildlife in what are still toxic landscapes is much more difficult to manage. Trees are likely to either quickly die or end up infected, so no one really bothers with replanting them just yet. As for animals... Well, it's not like the Fusion Fighters could keep them all contained in safer environments even if they tried. If anything, they'd risk bottling Earth's species in singular, major targets, like what happened at Galaxy Gardens. There's also risks to the environments themselves if the animals are relocated. As such, people will make an effort to care for them too, but they allow the animals to mostly run free; typically catching and releasing them back where they found them after an area is deemed clear.

Before people or animals can return to areas where heavy battles took place, decontaminations are a must. This is a matter of personal safety to those individuals and inhibits fusions from blending in with a crowd to do even more damage. Even if an area were completely clear of fusion matter, if a person is already infected, it can eventually be fatal. Even if they don't have enough fusion matter on/in their bodies to do much harm beyond that, the same can't be said for fusions and it's impossible for them to slip through decontamination. Even if they somehow could hind the fact that their bodies are pretty much 100% fusion matter, the imaginary energy (IE) used during decontamination is deadly to them.

Speaking of IE, let's get back to antidote nanos. The antidote ability is more often used as a preventative measure for fusion fighters when in areas with high concentrations of fusion matter. The same applies for clean-up teams as well, but the Nano Project continuously works to see how far this ability can go--as a means of purifying landscapes or healing like I'd mentioned in my Future headcanons. They can purge fusion matter from the body, hence the 'antidote' name. This does nothing for the physical damage already taken from a fusion matter infection. Still, it can easily prevent a worst-case-scenario. As an extension of that, they'll also remove fusion matter from sources of food/water or soil, but often only in very small amounts: A water bottle or potted plant might not be too much trouble, but a pond or an entire field can be nearly impossible. Over the course of the war, as more research is conducted, there definitely are improvements; however, the ability is never capable of curing areas on a mass-scale. To help compensate, whenever they are tasked on clean-up, antidote nanos may do so in large groups with each other.

IE itself can be used to disintegrate fusion matter in small amounts once larger bodies of it are broken up. This is done through a similar method to creating purified fusion matter for nanos. However, this is even harder to utilize on a large-scale than the antidote ability.

There's not really much to say about the repair process itself, aside that it is largely done with manpower. This wasn't the case prior to the war, but thanks to so many construction robots like the Tech or Air Drones being turned into fusion monsters, people can't use them as they want to avoid potentially adding to Fuse's army as much as possible. Some droids are still around to help, but Earth is a lot more limited in this way. It can also make the work much slower. Moreover, since another battle is likely to occur, you'll find corners cut and more temporary repairs conducted. Both Dexlabs and Mandark Industries have improved handheld tools to try and speed up the manual labor.

An added concern is that new fusion monsters will spawn from the rubble. They're an immediate threat to the teams working on the restoration efforts, yes, but also make whatever previous victory was won in-vain. Since fusion monsters can be made-up of pretty much anything as it is, trying to stop new ones from appearing entirely is a fruitless goal. However, that doesn't mean the Fusion Fighters are going to let them return quickly or in as good of a condition as they were in before. For example, whatever is left of a Tech Drone is going to be dismantled when possible.

#fusionfall #video games #headcanons