#and i worry that i’ll leave things out if i don’t add enough detail

[bleubrri]

ushijima doesn’t propose to you with a ring.

granted, he has no idea why, considering that the box is sitting in the pocket of his shorts at any and all times. he’d spent months trying to get every detail right; unfaltering in his desire to marry you, but every other decision had been made and remade a hundred times over. he’d stopped counting after the fourth ringband and thinks that the jeweller started to hate him around the seventh ‘final’ decision for the cut of the stone.

he’s never been particularly indecisive, in fact he thinks he’s quite the opposite, and yet he can’t seem to stick to his guns on anything.

he almost proposes before the flight, though as he watches you toss sunscreen and string bikinis into a suitcase he thinks it might add an extra weight to the holiday, like some strange pre-honeymoon. if he asked you in a restaurant ushijima isn’t entirely sure you’d say yes, and every night at dinner he has to choke the question down.

in the garden?

in the city?

it needs to be special, not too public. maybe not in public at all—

“toshi?”

“hm?” he lifts his gaze to find you staring at him from your place next to the bed.

“i said can you throw me my water bottle?” you repeat.

he nods, resigning himself to thinking of a plan later and crossing the room to hand you the bottle. you tuck it into the beach bag that you’re packing and—maybe the beach? perhaps at night, when it’s more secluded and he can recite everything he loves about you without the added pressure of an audience. ushijima gets the sudden irrational fear of dropping the ring in the sand and is reconstructing his whole plan when you take his hand in yours.

“are you okay, love?”

he blinks, squeezing your hand and flashing you a small smile. “of course, why?”

“you’ve just seemed a little.. distracted? distant? i don’t know, i figured you were just stressed.” you tuck your phone into the pocket of your bag and turn to give him your full attention, taking both his hands in yours. “are you sure nothings wrong, toshi? i can try and help if you tell me. i want you to enjoy this holiday too so if there’s anything i can do to—”

“marry me.” he blurts, without a plan and without a ring and with his heart coming up out his throat. the grip of your fingers goes slack for a second, your voice dying and eyes going wide.

“what?” it’s barely a whisper.

ushijima sighs, taking your face in his hands and thumbing over your undereyes while you look up at him through wet lashes.

“i’ve been trying—” he says, a fond smile curling his lips, “—to ask you to marry me.”

you find yourself blinking away tears, nodding frantically as you try and unclog your throat long enough to fucking speak.

“yes.” you breath, “yes of course, of course i’ll—yes.” you’re laughing, tears bubbling at your lashline that he swipes at before they get a chance to fall and tipping your mouth to his—needy, desperate little thing.

somewhere in the flurry of tongue and teeth, you end up being pulled onto the freshly made sheets and straddling his lap. toshi breaks the string of saliva that’s connecting your mouths to stare at you with stars in his half lidded eyes.

you find your palms smoothing down the broad plains of his chest that’s covered by the thin fabric of his t-shirt, resting them over his heart that seems to be thrashing against his ribs.

lips ghosting over his and noses barely brushing, you whisper, “you shouldn’t have asked me now.” and for a brief moment his stomach drops. “now i’m never gonna let you leave this room.” you smile, pecking his lips and slowly grinding into his lap.

large hands are secured on your hips and ushijima decides that he’ll worry about the details later. “maybe,” he chuckles, “that was the plan all along.”

[rascal-xo]

Hi ! I hope you’re doing well, I wanted to request the 141 & perhaps Los Vaqueros (I am a sucker for Ale) with y/n (preferably for her to also be in the military with these fine men) whose ex boyfriend ends up recently joining either the military or tags along a mission (I would love if their rank was below the 141/los vaqueros just to see how they would react, not intimated by the ex but more like cocky because they know they are better than them). Also maybe add a bit of NSFW… (pls & thank you). I’m sorry if it seems too specific or detailed but this plot has been nagging at my brain and I love the way you write so I was like okay, I know who can write this perfectly ! I appreciate you taking the time to read my request ! Have a good one !

Loose Ends | Alejandro x Female Reader |

Chapter Summary: You find self face to face with a toxic part of your past…

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, fluff, some minor smut |READERS CALLSIGN IS “RED”|

Word Count:

Tags: @satorisgirl

A/N: Ahh sorry it took so long but it’s finally here! I hoped you enjoyed the fic :))

——> Some stuff is not canonically accurate to MW2 or CoD in general

“Alright, gather around!” Price calls out to the team, There’s maps and documents sprawled over the top of the table where you and the rest of the team stand around it. “We’ve got one hour until we’re back out in the field, thanks to our lovely General Shepard, we’ve got our work cut out for us.” He says, with a hint sarcasm on his tongue.

You exchange a knowing glance with Soap, both of you aware of the tension between the Task Force and Shepard.

“We’re joining forces with Los Vaqueros for this one,” Price continues. “As you know, we’ve been tracking Hassan in the city for weeks now, and we’ve been tasked with assisting them in finally taking him down.”

The 141 and Alejandro’s men were hand in hand the past few weeks hunting down Hassan and the rouge missiles.

In the few times you had the pleasure of working with Colonel Vargas and his men, you always enjoyed it a little more than you liked to admit. You look over at Colonel Vargas, and he meets your gaze, nodding a smile.

But then, Price's voice interrupts your thoughts. "Another one of our company contacts will be joining us on this mission. They’ll be leading behind the operation alongside Colonel Vargas."

You feel your stomach drop as Price gestures towards the door. The man walks in question walks in, and you immediately recognize him as Phillip Graves, your old commander and ex boyfriend.

You had worked with the Commander side by side for 3 years, when you were recruited for the Shadow Company by Shepard.

The last time you saw him was when you announced your decision to leave. You had a huge fight, and things ended on a more than sour note. Hitting closer than personal between you and Phillip. You never expected to see him again so soon, especially not on a mission like this.

“Commander Graves, good to have you and the Shadows here.” Price greets him. The rest of the team seems oblivious to the history between you and Dom, but you can't help but feel awkward and uncomfortable.

You try to make a quick exit as soon as the briefing comes to an end, but Graves catches up to you, “Hey, Red, it’s been a while.”

You turn to face him, trying to keep a calm demeanor, “Not long enough, unfortunately.” You say before you have time to really think it through.

The commander smirks, “Don’t worry, Y/N, I’m just here to do my job.” He pauses, looking you up and down. “Hopefully you won’t be too distracted.”

You internally roll your eyes and walk away, not wanting to engage in any more conversation than you have to with him.

As you gear up and head to the chopper, you can feel the weight of the mission and the added tension of the Shadows presence weighing on you.

“What’s got you quiet, Roja?” Alejandro says, leaning closer to you.

“Just thinking.” You answer, “Don’t have much time to do that in peace lately.” You chuckle.

“Say I’ll buy you a drink once we make it out of this shitstorm alive, huh?” He raises an eyebrow.

“I’d like that.” You smile.

Once you're on the ground, you and the rest of the team move quickly, working alongside Los Vaqueros to track down Hassan's whereabouts.

The mission is intense, with gunfire ringing out and explosions rocking the city. Despite the chaos around you, you stay focused, your training and instincts kicking in as you move with precision and purpose.

It's only when you and Graves are alone, working together to take down a group of insurgents, that things begin to take a turn.

You look over at him, out of breath from taking a hard blow to the ribs, taking in his features. He looks older, more weathered than you last saw him. But he’s still annoyingly good at his job.

“Not like you to take hits.” Graves suddenly says, breaking the silence between you two, once the coast is clear. You two are alone in one of the emptied buildings, awaiting clearance to evac.

Like you’re perfect.” You reply, trying to keep your annoyance at ease.

Graves smirks, “I never said I was perfect, just better than most.”

You roll your eyes, “Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night?”

He chuckles, “No, that’s what you used to tell me.”

You feel a pang of memories hit you, remembering the times when you and Phillip were together, laughing and messing around during your downtime. But the memory is quickly replaced by the bitterness of the person he’s become, or was all along.

“So, this is what you left our unit for, coverts?” He says, leaning against a broken door. His demeanor suddenly shifts, and you feel the hostility radiating off of him.

“That’s one less person you can have at your disposal for good old Shepard.” You scoff, meeting his dark expression.

“You know, Y/N, you always did have a problem with authority. It's no surprise you didn't last long with the Shadows.” You feel your blood boiling.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" you snap. Graves takes a step towards you, his voice lowering dangerously, “Watch it. Don’t wanna start anything you can’t finish, Soldier.”

Before things can escalate any further, Alejandro suddenly appears comes through the doorway, pausing in his steps when he takes in the tense atmosphere between you and Graves.

Without hesitating, Alejandro strides forward, stepping between you and Graves.

"Graves," Alejandro says, his voice low and controlled. "You need to back off of the Sergeant. Now."

Graves sneers, "What, you gonna protect your little girlfriend?"

Alejandro's fists clench, but he remains composed. "I'm not playing games, Cabrón. Back off."

Graves takes a step forward, his face contorting with anger. "You don't know what you're getting into, Vargas. This has nothing to do with you."

"It has everything to do with me when you're threatening a member of my team," Alejandro says, his voice sharp. "If you can't handle working with Y/N, then you can leave."

Graves looks like he's about to say something else, but the sound of the C-130’s engines outside interrupts him. "Don’t butt in where you don’t belong, Vargas." Graves says through gritted teeth, before turning and stalking out of the room.

You take this as an opportunity to brush past Phillip as you move towards Alejandro.

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding as he turns to you, concern etched on his face. "You okay, Roja?"

“Yes i’m okay. We just have a long past.” You exhale, fixing your red bandana that seems to have slipped a little from your forehead.

“Let’s get out of here.” You say, relieved to finally have an excuse to get away from Graves.

Alejandro nods, and the two of you head out of the building together. Once you're outside, the weight of the mission and Graves' presence finally lifts off your shoulders.

“I need a drink.” You say, trying to lighten the mood as you head towards the evac.

Alejandro chuckles, “I remember promising you one earlier.”

You smile, “Lead the way, Colonel.”

As you make your way back to base, the two of you decide to leave the the post-mission bar celebration earlier than the rest of the team, and you decide to go back to your quarters, which Alejandro happily obliges to.

As you walk through the quiet halls, you can feel the heat and electricity between you and Alejandro, and you know that you're not the only one who's been thinking about it.

Finally, when you reach your door, he turns to face you, his eyes meeting yours in a way that makes your heart race. Granted you too are reaching tipsy at this point.

“Y/N…” He says, his voice low and husky.

Before he can finish, you reach up and pull him down to meet your lips in a heated kiss. The passion between you is electric, and you can feel the heat building as you explore each other's mouths.

As the kiss deepens, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he presses you against the wall. The world around you fades away as you lose yourself in the heat of the moment

Eventually, you pull away, both of you gasping for breath. You look up at Alejandro, seeing the desire and intensity in his eyes.

The moment you enter the room, he presses you against the wall once again, his mouth claiming yours as his hands roam over your body.

You feel the heat building between you, the need for each other growing with each passing second. Without breaking the kiss, Alejandro begins to tug at your clothes, revealing more and more of your skin.

Soon you're standing there in nothing but your underwear, your body flushed with desire. Alejandro steps back to admire the sight before him.

You reach down to palm him through his pants, eliciting a low groan from his lips. He breaks the kiss to look at you, his eyes dark with desire.

His hands slide down to your panties, tugging them down your legs and throwing them aside.

With one swift movement, he lifts you up and carries you to the bed, laying you down gently before climbing on top of you.

Your bodies are a tangle of limbs and heat, desire and passion taking over.

[raineandsky]

#106

“[Villain].”

The villain lets out an audible groan that inevitably raises their manager’s eyebrow. A short ball of fury, basically straight out of college. Not too unlike the villain. “Is it in my contract that I’m allowed to ignore you?”

“It’s not.” He gives them a moment where he clearly expects them to turn around. They don’t. “I need you to train up the new guy.”

“Do I have to?”

Their manager nudges someone forward as they turn. “‘Fraid so. You’ve been here the longest.”

No, that’s you, the villain’s about to say. But then their eyes fall on the new hire, who looks like she’s already regretting every life decision she’s ever made. What the hell is a hero doing in a burger joint?

“Okay,” the manager adds after a long moment, “staring is rude, [Villain]. Let’s dial it back.”

Their name jolts them out of their stupor. “I– yeah, sorry. I just, uh, recognise her from, uh…” The hero waits expectantly. Their manager tips his head curiously. “… high school.”

“Oh! Old acquaintances.” The manager claps his hands like this solves everything. “Lots of catching up to do, huh? I’ll leave you guys here then—and [Villain], please, for the love of god, train her up at least a bit amidst the chatting.”

The manager gives the hero a friendly pat on the back before throwing the villain a quick smile and disappearing around the door again.

The hero stares blankly at the villain. The villain stares equally blankly straight back. “Do you work here?” the hero asks eventually.

The villain doesn’t feel too inclined to answer that. “Do you?” they shoot back.

The hero clicks her tongue, shuffling on her feet. “Why don’t you show me how the fryers work before I have to kill you for getting too personal?”

“Ah, yes, the fryers.” The villain turns to the bubbling pot of oil next to them. “Hot enough to cook chips and to dissolve a body in.”

The hero’s face scrunches up seemingly on instinct, and the villain can’t help but laugh. “Don’t worry,” they say with forced friendliness, “I change the oil before I cook food in it.”

“Okay,” the hero says like she’s three seconds from throwing up. “Is there someone else here who can show me stuff?”

“You wish,” the villain jeers. “Manager’s busy, you saw him. Only other guy here only works on Thursdays and Sundays.”

“It’s Thursday today.”

“Exactly. Not what I’d call reliable. I, however” — the villain does a twirl for dramatic effect — “am here… more often than I am willing to tell you.”

“Well.” The hero smirks, the kind of expression no one wants to see on a hero’s face. “I’m sure I’ll figure out when you’re here if I stop by enough. What, is it full time? Does villainy pay peanuts?”

The villain refrains from the urge to punch her. “Does the agency?”

The hero’s mocking expression turns flat. “I’m here undercover,” she says plainly.

“I recognised you immediately.”

“Well, I’m not here for you.” The hero pushes past them to figure out the fryer on her own. “I’m not telling you any more than that.”

“I better warn my friends you’re here, then.” The villain snorts as the hero fiddles with the knob. “Are you here to give whoever you’re looking for food poisoning?”

“I know how to cook, [Villain].”

“You’re turning the heat too low.”

The hero pointedly pulls the knob back up. “Just show me how the kitchen works, please, and I’ll consider not telling your manager who he’s working with.”

The villain fixes her with a long stare. “I could blow your cover too.” But they roll their eyes and beckon her over to the griddle anyway. “Okay, so, wrong me and I’ll shove your entire face on this.”

The villain shows the hero around the kitchen, each bit of apparatus accompanied with a lovingly detailed description of how the villain intends to use each one against the hero if she pushes her luck. The hero listens with distaste mashed into her expression the whole time.

“Let’s try and keep things civil, okay?” the hero says when she’s clearly had enough of all the different ways the villain has on hand to murder her. “I don’t fancy fighting in a kitchen, and I’m sure you don’t either.”

Oh, god, how wrong the hero is. They’re itching to grab one of those knives off the hook and just—

No. They have to play it safe to begin with, keep it lowkey, make her feel a little too safe. So they just roll their eyes and, with all the authenticity they can muster, simply say “agreed.”

[rupertsfangirl]

Motorcyclist in my car Oct 25th

Summary: A semi-journal type text about a sexual encounter with a masked biker. 

Tags & Warnings: Smut, alcohol use, drunk reader (sorta), outdoor sex, mask fetish. Think I missed a tag or warning? Please let me know!

Word count: 1.3k Pairing: Masked man x Fem!Reader

A/N: I think I wanna turn this into a mini series but idk. The journal aspect of it is a bit lost sometimes but I still think what I wanted is in there. Please enjoy :> Also I know I've been gone awhile I was kind of taking a break from writing and stuff to be a consumer for a while (reading fanfictions on my new hyperfixation).

To start I was pretty drunk and on what one might consider a vacation, but this had been on my bucket list for a while. I guess that last shot sealed the deal and gave me enough, I wanna say confidence but that doesn't seem right. It was wrong and I knew it but that's what made it so exciting. I remember looking up into the reflective visor on the unknown man's biker helmet. His identity, forever a mystery which honestly turns me on now thinking about it. I’m thinking of doing something like this again. The thrill of not knowing was a feeling I’d only fantasized about before. Maybe I’ll write a little series of my endeavors, and I’ll be detailed so don’t worry. Now, I’ll get to what happened. 

The bar's lights were really starting to annoy me which is why I walked out and bumped into him in the first place. My face planted straight into his chest, it was firm. I quickly apologized to him but he stayed silent and just kind of looked at me. I imagine he may have been falling in love at that moment, that's what my big ego says anyway. He gave me a nod of forgiveness and walked inside. As he moved past me I looked him up and down, nothing crazy, some black sweats and a green hoodie but he seemed fit underneath the concealing clothing. I took a seat outside close to where his bike was. I was kind of hoping to catch him leaving, our small interaction piqued my interest; I could only hope it piqued his too. I sat for what felt like ages but I must have fallen asleep because I was woken up to the helmeted man crouched next to me shaking my shoulder. I could hear the sounds of a muffled hey underneath the helmet. I groggily lifted my head from my knees and tried to wipe the bit of drool on my lower lip. 

“Y’know you oughta be more careful where you sleep.” His voice remained muffled. 

“Huh?” I could hear him chuckle, it sounded warm and gentle, a real suave laugh. I thought it was odd he hadn’t taken off the helmet but it only made me more interested. 

“I said you should be more careful where you sleep.” I nodded at him, closing my eyes from the remaining tiredness. He seemed to be rolling his eyes under the visor, “Do you have a friend here or a car? Don’t drive but at least you can sleep in a safer place.” 

“Yea that blue one there.” I pointed towards my car.

“Alright let's go then,” he pulled my arm over his shoulder and started walking me toward the car. 

“Hey, wait I don’t want you to just disappear after this.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“Well talk to me, let me learn a little about you.” At this point we had reached my car and I was leaning on the driver door with him next to me. I felt quite sobered up but in actuality I was still quite out of it. 

“Fine, you’ve intrigued me. Oh hold on lemme take this-”

“NO!” I quickly slapped his hand away from his helmet. He was so surprised he had stepped back a bit and I can only assume he looked either confused or shocked, probably both. 

“What was that for? No?”

“K-keep the helmet on.”

“What, why, you can’t really hear me well can you?”

“Well it adds to your mystery, and my hearing is stronger than most.” It isn’t but he didn’t need to know that besides I could hear him well enough. 

We talked for a while, we laughed and all that good connection stuff, then he asked again about the helmet thing and why I didn’t want him to take it off. I told him the real reason: It turned me on, it was super hot, he seemed both proud and curious. 

I suppose we just spoke all the right words to each other to get into one another's pants. 

But one thing led to another and we were inside the back seat of my car tearing each other's clothes off. He’s pulling off my shirt, my bra then my pants and underwear; while I yank down his pants and boxers. There was no way of getting the hoodie off with the helmet on but I didn’t need all that. He pinched my nipples between his rough fingers while his other hand teased over my clit. Honestly I was surprised he found it. I could tell he was hot from all the panting, I could only assume his helmet was like a small ecosystem. I was moaning like we weren’t in a public space and not the fake ones. These were real, I was excited; I was aroused. His fingers made their way down and into my vagina making my back arch. I kept staring into his visor knowing he could see all of me; my erotic faces reflecting back at me, my nude body. In contrast to him; I didn't know what kind of man was behind that visor, what kind of faces he makes during sex. At this point I was soaking and couldn’t wait, impatiently I beg for him to fuck me already. He obliges and lines up his sizable cock before slowly pushing inside. A gasp slips from my mouth and I hear a faint moan from him. My hands move to grip his back sliding underneath his hoodie. It has a soft muscular feel. He starts to move, his quiet grunts and groans escaping through his helmet. At first his movements were a bit awkward but eventually we got into a good 

pace. He had surprisingly good stamina. He sat up more using his rough hands to grip my hips, thrusting at a new angle making me want to scream. He kept hitting my sensitive part as my moans grew louder, suddenly my hand was pushing against his lower abdomen. 

“I think, I hear someone.” His hips slowly came to a halt and I began listening more intently hearing some faint laughing outside, it didn't sound that close so maybe I was just being paranoid. He probably couldn’t hear that well so I was on a higher alert.

Tilting his head and asking, “But, isn’t that part of the fun?” He used his hand to pull my chin to look back at him, before covering my mouth and continuing to move. Definitely one of the top five hottest moments I've had with someone, probably even top 3. I was starting to get close from his thrusting and my fingers relentlessly on my clit. The throbbing and twitching of his dick inside me let me know he was also close. He slid his hand off of my mouth and placed both hands back on my hips, quickening his pace. Our body heat filled the car, steamy windows, moans and grunts, inching ever closer to that sweet release. He kept hitting a spot that made me feel like a glass about to spill over, I could see my face in his visor as I got closer to climax, I had never felt as beautiful as I felt in that moment. Then it all poured out, I felt a wave of pleasure wash over me, he came just moments before myself. He stayed inside but the condom caught it all (I had one in my glove box). He pulled out and we stayed breathing heavily for a while just looking at each other; I assumed he was looking at me but his eyes could have been wandering my body for all I know. 

We tied off the condom, got cleaned, and got dressed. Then we went our separate ways, I walked with him to his bike before watching him disappear into the distance on the road. Overall a steamy encounter, one I’ll never forget. But he may have competition soon, Halloweens coming up and there will be plenty of masked fish to choose from. 

[security-chief-odo]

The Gala Job - Chapter 2

Eliot Spencer x Reader

click here for chapter 1

Description: Celebratory drinks with the team, but you can't keep your mind (or your eyes) off of a certain hitter.

• • •

As you entered, the whole team was sitting at a table, Parker and Hardison seated next to each other across from Nate and Sophie, leaving you to sit across from Eliot.

You walked to the bar to get your first drink before settling in next to Sophie. Nate leaned behind her and said “Great work today.”

It wasn’t much, but that little reassurance made you smile. Nate was a good man and it meant a lot to know he thought well of you too.

You both leaned back into the rest of the conversation. As if he had been waiting for his cue, Hardison began detailing the files found on the flash drive.

There was mountains of evidence against Whitehall and Apex. They had been falsifying records, evading their taxes and embezzling funds. This should bring them down for good.

They deserved it. They had hurt so many people.

He deserved it. He almost hurt you.

You glanced over at Eliot, watching the way he subtly wrung his hands together. Those hands could fill your thoughts for days, but the way they pulled against each other portrayed too much stress. He deserved better.

Hardison broke down file after file, detailing every way this company was screwed. This would guarantee they would lose the ongoing lawsuit and get Whitehall plenty of jail time. As you listened to him talk, your eyes drifted around the bar. This pub felt weirdly like home to you. Maybe it was just the people that felt like home.

Conversation started to drift off of the current case and onto past cases. Parker regaling you with stories of theft, that you may have heard dozens of times, but impressed you nonetheless. Sophie detailing some lavish jewelry that she managed to steal.

“I’ll be right back” you said, excusing yourself to go to the bathroom.

As you exited the stall to wash your hands, you saw Sophie by the sink, clearly waiting on you. “So I wanted to ask” she began “are you doing ok? I know Whitehall had you cornered and you seem a little out of it tonight.”

“Sorry to have worried you. I’m ok, just a little lost in thought is all.” You chuckled softly, adding, “In fact, I was enjoying this job until things went south. Whitehall is a terrible gut, but –”

“He was nice to look at?” Sophie chimed in.

“Not my type.” you sighed “The food there though was wonderful. I kind of wish the case had taken a bit longer. Didn’t even make it past the hors d'oeuvres.”

“Not your type?” Sophie asked incredulously. “The man looked like he walked straight in off the runway or straight out of a catalogue.”

You shrugged, “Rich, pretty boys just aren’t my type.”

“You had the undivided attention and admiration of an incredibly wealthy man and all you have to say is that he isn’t “your type?’”

“Well we both know how he got that money, so that’s hardly a selling point.” you tried to laugh it off, knowing damn well why you weren't even slightly enamored by the affections of Edgar Whitehall. Regardless of your moral objections to the man, he never stood a chance.

You both headed back towards the table. You glanced at the table from across the bar, looking at your friends, and perhaps lingering on Eliot longer than you meant to. You heard Sophie add an excited “ Oh!” you turned back to look at her as she continued “He didn’t catch your attention because someone else already has it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Sophie” you tried to brush her off, rolling your eyes as you walked back to your seat.

“Whatever you say” she replied, taking her seat next to you. Hardison continued his story, though everyone at the table was eyeing you and Sophie suspiciously now.

Eliot shot you a curious look. You mouthed “It’s nothing” back at him and hoped that would be enough to get everyone to drop it. You looked back to the table and the moment you caught Parker’s eyes, that hope was lost.

“What were you two just talking about?” She pointed between you and Sophie.

“Nothi–” you tried to rush out before being promptly cut off by Sophie.

“Our Y/N here has a little crush”

You tried to avoid looking at Eliot as you replied “Or Sophie is just jumping to conclusions and has no idea what she’s talking about.”

This didn’t help much as Parker and Hardison took turns asking you rapid fire questions.

“Is it someone we know?” Hardison started.

“Is it a guy?

“A girl?”

“Can we meet them?”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Why haven’t you just asked them out yet?”

“Who is it?”

“That’s enough guys!” Nate snapped at them both.

You mouthed “Thank you” at Nate. You weren’t quite sure they would have backed off nearly as quickly for you.

“I’m gonna go grab another round of drinks.” you said, excusing yourself once again.

Both Parker and Hardison mumbled “Sorry” as you stood up. You know they were just excited. They didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but as you stood up you caught Eliot still looking at you.

You ordered everyone’s drinks. As the bartender walked away you felt someone walk up behind you.

“I figured you could use a hand in carrying those all back.” Eliot’s voice rang through your ears . Shit.

“I appreciate it.” You thought that if you didn’t bring it up, maybe he wouldn’t either, and the silence you were met with briefly let you believe that.

“So who is this new lover of yours?”

“He’s not my–” you cut yourself off realizing you’d said too much.

“So Sophie was right. There is someone.” He grins, clearly satisfied with himself. “Who is he?”

“Why do you care, Eliot?”

“Because I care about you sweetheart.”

“Not your sweetheart” you retorted.

“Why are you keeping it a secret hun? Is it one of us? It’s me isn’t it?” The joking tone of voice at the prospect of you having feelings for him stung more than it should have. Luckily, this conversation could come to an end as the bartender handed you the drinks.

“In your dreams Spencer.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’m in yours.” He winked at you as he sat down across from you.

The night went on, the topic of your love life no longer being of interest. The team was now discussing plans for hypothetical vacations, and places they legally couldn't vacation. They waxed poetic about dream purchases, and dream thefts.

Nate was the first to leave. He had been nearly dozing off for probably the last fifteen minutes.

Sophie followed him out the door saying “Well, I better make sure I get him home safely before I head home.” The rest of us looked at each other knowingly. She wasn’t heading home. She never did when she took Nate home. They would stagger their entrances the next day to be almost exactly five minutes apart, and, like always, we would all pretend not to notice.

Hardison was the next to stand up, looking at you and Eliot, “I can drive you both home before we head back, if y’all would like.”

“Thanks Alec” you said, gathering your things. The others stood up too, and you all headed out into the cold wintery night together. Hardison took the wheel, while Parker sat shotgun. You and Eliot sat behind them. You glanced up at Eliot to find him already looking at you. It took so much restraint to not just stare into those beautiful blue eyes, but you managed nonetheless.

The van came to a stop a few blocks from your apartment building. Eliot chimed in, looking at you, “This would be my stop, but if you want, I can walk you home first.”

You hesitated for a second, not wanting to make him go out of his way just to walk you home. Maybe it was something in the air, but between that southern accent and his puppy dog eyes, there was never really a chance of you turning him down that night.

You got out, telling Hardison to drive safe. Stepping into the bitter cold, you started to regret letting Eliot talk you into this.

Staring daggers at Eliot as you shivered harshly, you asked “Damn it Eliot. Why Did you talk me into this? It’s so damn cold”

The amusement in his smile as he turned to face you was both the most infuriating and endearing reaction he could have had. It took everything in you to maintain your anger, if only as your only guard against melting as you looked at him.

Eliot shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders. Chuckling, he added, “You know, you’d be a lot warmer and maybe less grumpy if you dressed for the weather.”

You tried to laugh off the butterflies forming in your stomach as you sunk into his jacket, “Then why is it that you’re always so grumpy?”

He rolled his eyes at you and you walked in contented silence until you approached your building. “Let me walk you to your door?” he offered.

“Yeah, come on up.” You led the way up a few flights of stairs, had you looked back you would have seen Eliot Spencer, international criminal, looking at you with a look of pure softness. You didn’t look back, and you didn’t see a thing.

Faster than you had hoped, you reached your door. “This one’s mine. Thank you for keeping me company El. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” He started to turn away as you put the key in your door, then you felt his hand gently grab your wrist as he said “Wait, Y/N. I wa—”

You cut him off, “Oh shit, your jacket.” You started to slide it off your shoulders as he looked at you in confusion.

“No, not that sweetheart.” He laughed nervously looking at the ground. “What I was trying to say was that I like you Y/N. I think I might even love you.”

“That isn’t funny Eliot”

“What? I wasn’t trying to be funny”

“Eliot, I don’t know what Sophie told you, but this isn’t funny. Yes, I have feelings for you, hell, my heart races everytime I look at you, but I can push past that. I don’t need your pity or for you to pretend to have feelings for me.”

Stepping closer, he gently grabbed your face. Mere millimeters from your lips he whispered, “Darlin’, I ain’t pretending and I sure as hell don't pity you. I want you to be mine, if you’ll have me.”

Hesitating for just a moment, you steadied yourself with a hand on his chest and you kissed him. It was a chaste, tender kiss. You pulled away with a groan of disapproval from Eliot.

You unlocked your door before looking back at him, “Are you coming?”

• • •

Let me know if you want to join my taglist for this pairing or my general taglist!

Smut in chapter 3!

[bvannn]

Weekly Update January 12, 2024

I’m exhausted and still packing for the move tomorrow. I don’t know what’s going to happen this semester but I’m hoping I can stay kinda productive, since I should get weekends entirely off save for homework. Car ride up tomorrow, planning to do either epithet TTRPG work or thumbnailing or both.

TRGA: 1-5 Jon is done and 1-5 Emile is like half done, need cleanup and face. The more smoothly things go the more I’m worried about having to redo the old shots, but for now I think I can get away with touch ups on 1-3 and leaving 1-1 as is. 1-5 is going nice and quick so I’m hoping I can get the whole thing done by the end of the semester, but no promises.

Comic thumbnailing stuff going well, only 2 scenes away from getting through ‘act 1’ (the first third-ish of it). If I’m ambitious I might get going on writing a second issue soon too, because I have it kinda sorta outlined, and I found what is basically an outline for a third issue done as well (or a first draft of it anyway). Still gonna focus on the pitch/pilot/w.e issue for now. But because it’s been going so well I’m feeling optimistic.

I did no music stuff this week so once I’m back on campus I’m going to try to get going on one. Maybe will be a character theme, maybe will be something else. Not sure. *Really* want to get going on something animatable, but not sure how long it’ll take. Also I’ll go through that giant plug-in pack I got with the auto volume stuff to see what else it can do.

Also after racking my brain around music I listen to I think I have a basic idea of lyric whatever’s I was worried about last week. I’m going to fuck it we ball it because I think I do have a subconscious enough understanding. I’ll try to budget time to rewatching vocaloid tutorials so I can start messing with it.

Also haven’t really done a ton of Epithet TTRPG stuff other than sporadic general planning. I have a general outline for a first chapter/session/batch of sessions, I just need to plan out the details of the encounters, and trajectory for the rest of the campaign. I want to kinda combine it with another RPG I found at the store, ‘Urban Decay’, so I’ll need to throw together a document of that and any other house rules, and set up a session zero for character creation. Unsure if I want to d with friends in person, people found online, both, or a combination.

I have a big stretch of free time tomorrow, I’m going to try to actually schedule myself for that, spend X amount of time on comic thumbnailing, X on TTRPG, and X on watching Vocaloid and other music tutorials. Hoping my mood will be stable enough to maintain that schedule. From there, I’ll try to do a song on Sunday (and time myself so I can add music to my commsheet), and try another bite of animation and another thumbnail, plus maybe a drawing if I have time. Weird that drawings are such a low priority right now but it’s because the other stuff I’m working on is just that much more exciting!

[marblemoonstones]

we were in screaming color 🩵

main masterlist

summary: you didn’t want to go back to your hometown, not when your frustrating parents were there. you left that life behind. but who knew that rebuilding your old elementary school would also bring a new romance?

warnings: f reader, curse words, angst, frustrating/toxic parents, car accident (nothing graphic)

word count: ~ 6.7k (longest fic written so far!! 🥳)

a/n: I’m super excited to start this series :) 💗 (song lyrics won’t start until later into the fic bc I had to add background details. most of the lyrics will be used)

song: out of the woods 

album: 1989 (taylor’s version)

trope: small hometown romance

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The year was 1989… 

“Mom, dad, I have something to tell you,” I say, trying not to pace anxiously. 

“Sweetie, is something wrong?” Mom asks, her eyebrows furrowed in worry.

Dad also looks nervous, as I never usually act in this manner. They’re both sitting on our worn cream couch, slightly sagging from overuse.

“Well…you know how I wanted to go pursue my architecture degree in Seoul?” I ask, remembering their horrified reactions to me having a desire to move out of our small hometown of Tonjung. 

“Yes, I remember. And I also remember us not wanting you to leave,” Dad says, his face solemn and sure. 

That’s funny. They both think I’m staying. 

“I know, but I got into the University of Seoul School of Architecture,” I say, hoping that they’ll be at least a little proud. But knowing deep in my heart that they won’t care.

“Good for you honey, but I thought you were going to stay here and run the family business. You’re the only child we have, y/n. You have to carry on the legacy,” Mom says firmly. 

“That’s what you want,” I sigh, already weary of the conversation, “But I want to go and live my dream.” Every time that I bring architecture up they always dismiss it. I don’t know whether or not it’s because they don’t believe in me or because they want me to follow their perfect vision.

“You and your dreams! Don’t you care about your family at all? Our dream is to be grandparents! Why don’t you settle down here and find a nice boy and-“

“Mom, dad, enough!” I hiss, my anger finally boiling over, “I don’t want to fucking live in your dream, I have a dream of my own. And I’ll be damned if I let this opportunity go to waste. I already paid for everything and set it up, so I just wanted to see if you were going to support me. But I guess not.” 

My parents are now in shock, eyes wide and mouths slightly agape. But I don’t care.

“Goodbye.” 

And with that, I leave, grabbing my suitcases that I had hidden and waiting by the door. The tears prickle at the edge of my eyes. 

“Honey!”

“Wait!”

They shout, but I ignore them. Opening the door, I run straight into a man. Oh, is this another poor soul that they’re trying to set me up with? Too bad for him.

I shove my shit into the car and start it. Turning out of the driveway, I’m off to my new life. 

~

Thirteen years later

~

“Ms. Choi! We need you to sign this, approving the floor plan for the new hospital. We added all the details you requested and-“ 

(I don’t know anything about architecture, so I’m trying to not add details. I’m sorry if I’m inaccurate with anything!)

I sign it quickly and then walk to the meeting room. My assistant has a ‘new project’ that I’ll ‘definitely want to be a part of!’ That means one of two things: either it’s a horrible project and they’re trying to hype it up so I’ll do it, or it’s actually a good investment and I’ll be pleasantly surprised. 

I tend to have a ‘pessimistic’ point of view, but that’s only because I have high standards. After graduating top of my class, I started a job at one of the top architect corporations, Park Designs. Slowly climbing the ranks, I am now one of the top architects at Park. And it only took me five years. Some of my classmates are still low class designers at middle-class businesses. Not to sound cocky of course, but I had to work my ass off in college and during my internships. While my classmates were out partying and drinking, I was working on my designs and making sure they was the best. 

Stepping into the meeting room, I’m not surprised to see my assistant, Jungwoon, but I am surprised to see my boss Seonming. Seonming usually doesn’t come to these meetings, as she’s usually busy helping the CEO, Park Ji-young. 

“Hello y/n, it’s good to see you,” Seonming says shaking my hand. I’ve always admired Seonming, partly because she’s an amazing architect and partly because she’s a high ranking woman in a usually male dominated field. 

“Good morning Seonming, it’s good to see you too,” I say, meaning every word. 

I take a seat in the plush chairs, glad to get the nice meeting room.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m in here. As you know, I don’t usually comes when there’s a new project for you,” Seonming starts, “But this project is especially personal, and I wanted to pitch it to you.”

Personal? What does she mean by that?

Jungwoon hands me the files before bowing and leaving the room. 

“Before you look at it, please know that I specifically selected you for this project because I know that you like designing for the greater good. You have a good heart, y/n, and that’s why I chose you for this. Not for any other reason,” Seonming says, making me wonder what’s so special about this project.

I take a deep breath and open the files. Instantly, I see the location. Tonjung, South Korea. Oh no, oh no no no. 

“Now, before you get all mad, please understand-“

“Seonming. You know why I can’t do this. I left that life behind for a reason,” I say, irritation rising in me. Seonming of all people knows why I can’t go back! I haven’t seen my parents in years, only talking to them at the holidays or our respective birthdays. Our relationship is formal at best.

“I know y/n, but please consider it. You haven’t even looked at the project yet,” Seonming says implored.

I know she’s right, as she always is, so I scan the summary. Building a new school? Did something happen to my elementary school? 

“What happened to Tonjung Elementary?” I ask, thinking about the cozy and warm school I went to.

“There was an earthquake,” Seonming explains, “And it all but destroyed the current school. They need an architect who can rebuild the school, and I recommended you. Not because you used to live there, but because I knew you’d be able to do it justice.”

Damn. Seonming is really good at making someone feel guilty. She knows I’m a sucker for humanitarian projects, whether it be building a new hospital or, in this case, a new school. 

Why didn’t I know that the earthquake happened? Why didn’t my parents tell me? I’m assuming it’s because they think I don’t care, but just because I left doesn’t mean I don’t have an attachment to the town I grew up in.

I sigh, already knowing my answer. 

“Okay…I guess for Tonjung Elementary…” I grumble, trying to ignore the happy look on Seonming’s face. 

“Great! You’ll have to stay there for a while, of course, but the project doesn’t start for another two weeks. That should give you enough time!” Seonming is being surprisingly brief with details. Usually she gives me a full run down and explains every last aspect.

“Okay…how long will this last?” I ask, suspicious. 

“Oh, yeah, it’s supposed to last two to three years. Anyways, I’ll send the rest of the information soon! Have a good day y/n!” Seonming leaves in a rush, clearly trying to avoid me so I can’t back out.

Two to three years? In my hometown? With my parents? Oh boy. What did I just agree to?

~ 

Two weeks fly by and before I know it I’m leaving with a lot of my stuff. Even though I may come back to the city once in a while, it won’t be often because the drive from Seoul to Tonjung is a good seven hours. 

“Goodbye y/n! Have safe travels and try to have a little fun,” Jungwoon says. He’s handling my office while I’m gone. I trust him, and I know he’ll do a good job.

“Thanks, Jungwoon. And don’t forget to text me if there are any problems!” I call, waving as I drive off. 

I put on music and try to enjoy the long drive. It is beautiful by the coast, and if I ignore the awkwardness with my parents, then going back home isn’t too bad. 

I’m just glad that I’m staying at an Air BnB because otherwise I’d have to endure my parents’ constant nagging about how I left them, how I need to settle down, and all that bullshit. Besides, I’m only thirty-two. I have plenty of time to find a partner. I want to keep working towards my goal, becoming a CEO (like Park Ji-young) of my own architectural business. 

The drive passes by quickly, and soon the tall skyscrapers of Seoul turn into quaint houses with chipping paint.

I pull into the Air BnB and get out of my car. Breathing in the salty air, I feel the crisp breeze on my skin. It’s June and the weather is a bit hot at times so the breeze is a nice reprieve. I start yo unload my stuff and place it in the bedroom. This is a nice Air BnB because it has all the essentials (washer, dryer, dishwasher, etc.) for one person. 

I go to the bathroom and freshen up. After changing my clothes, I decide to rip the bandaid off and go to my parents since it’s only about 3 in the afternoon.

Tonjung is small enough to walk place to place, and my parents’ house is only a couple blocks over from the Air BnB. 

I steady myself before knocking on the door. The aqua paint that used to be cheerful and welcoming now feels cheap and tacky. 

The door opens, and my dad’s face appears. He opens the door slightly wider for me to come in, but I can tell he’s not that happy to see me.

“Hi honey, come on in. Your mom’s in the living room.” He shuts the door behind me and I feel as though I’m heading straight to my doom. 

I cautiously step into the room and see my mom.

“Hi mom…it’s good to see you again,” I say, tentative of how this visit will go.

She turns her head.

“Hi sweetie. How are you?” It’s turning into another one of our phone calls. Only this time I can’t make an excuse and hang up.

“I’m fine. It’s good to be back.” I hesitate on what to say next, trying to break the awkwardness that’s lingering in the air like stale perfume. 

“Good to have you back. Maybe this time you’ll stay,” mom says, and I stiffen.

“You know I had to go. And look at me now, I’ve achieved so much.” I always try my hardest to make my parents proud, even if they don’t know it. 

“Yes honey, you have. So why don’t you come back here for good? You can do your building business or whatever it is you do from here.” 

Mom never understands. It’s not just a ‘building business,’ it’s my life. I have big goals, and they’re only going to happen if I keep pursuing them. 

“Mom, you know I can’t move back here. I have to continue in Seoul because that’s where there are better opportunities for me,” I try to explain. Before anyone can say anything else, I hear a knock on the door.

“Oh, that must be Namjoon,” my dad says, going to open the door.

Namjoon? Kim Namjoon?

“Hey Namjoon! Yes yes, come on in. She’s right here.” Dad leads the handsome man over to me. 

“Hey, y/n! Long time no see.” 

Kim Namjoon sure has grown into those long legs and dimples. His eyes have always been beautifully sculpted, but they’re even more gorgeous now. I notice that he’s got some serious muscles in him now too. Seems he’s discovered working out.

“Hey Namjoon. Haven’t seen you in a while,” I say, trying (and failing) not to seem awkward.

“Namjoon here has grown up, hasn’t he y/n? And he even stayed in town,” Mom says pointedly.

I roll my eyes. So small town Namjoon stayed in the small town. Mom and dad probably wish he was their child.

“Okay, mom. I get it. Now, not to break up whatever this-“ I gesture to mom and I- “is, why did you call Namjoon here?”

“Oh! It’s because I’m the principal of Tonjung Elementary. We’ll be working together on the rebuilding a lot,” Namjoon explains.

“Oh that’s fun…” I trail off, not sure what else to say. Yay? Spending two to three years working with someone I haven’t seen in ages?

“Yes it is! Now, why don’t you two mosey on down to the beach and get to know each other after such a long time. I’m sure there’s much to catch up on. And your father and I have to go to the store.” Mom practically forces us out, and before I know it Namjoon and I are standing outside the front door. So much for subtleness. Mom just wants me to find a boyfriend.

“That was quick,” I mumble, “Even for them.” Usually our visits on the phone last at least fifteen minutes, but this one breaks the record with being about five.

Namjoon chuckles. I blush, not knowing that he heard me. 

“Well, it seems that we are supposed to go to the beach. Shall we?” Polite as ever, Namjoon is. 

“Sure. We shall.” 

Traipsing down we make our way to the beach and I immediately take off of my shoes to feel the sand. I find a good spot and sit down and stare at the ocean. The crashing waves do little to smooth my mind. 

“So…” Namjoon starts, sitting down next to me. “You escaped. And you’re very successful now. I’ve seen you in magazines and such.”

Magazines? My name is almost never mentioned but I suppose there were a couple pieces written about my various projects.

“Heh, yeah. I’m lucky to be where I am today,” I affirm as I start drawing hearts in the sand. 

“Yeah…the last time I saw you you weren’t doing the best so I’m glad you made it.” Namjoon has a look in his eyes I don’t recognize. Pity? Sympathy?

“Wait when was the last time I saw you?” I don’t remember seeing him since high school graduation.

“When you were leaving. For college. After,” Namjoon winces, “The fight with your parents.” 

Wait how did he see me then? Unless-

“YOU were the man outside the door! I thought it was another random man my parents were trying to set me up with!” I exclaim.

Namjoon smiles sheepishly. 

“Well…that was me. And I wasn’t just there for fun…” 

“Ohhh so you were another poor suitor sent by my parents,” I side eye him for a second before we both burst into laughter. 

“Ah yes, that’s me. A ‘suitor’ for you! Perhaps you should like to date me madam?” Namjoon says in an accent.

As I laugh, I think, Was he always this funny? I guess he’s more goofy now than in high school.

“Nah, I’m not ready to date anyone. I have to start my own architectural corporation first,” I say wistfully. Someday. 

“Oh yeah, I bet you’ll be able to do that. You always were so driven, even in high school,” Namjoon says, reminiscing. 

“Ugh, don’t remind me! I remember when I missed senior homecoming because I had to study.” 

I wanted to go, but I had a huge AP chem test the next day that I ‘couldn’t afford to fail.’ So, while my other classmates were dancing to ‘Party Rock’ I was at home poring over my textbooks. It paid off, I suppose, because I aced the test, but it wasn’t worth missing homecoming.

“Those dances weren’t that fun anyways,” Namjoon says, breaking my train of thought.

“Oh! Yes I guess they weren’t. I wonder how everyone’s doing nowadays. I haven’t spoken to any of them in ages,” I mused. I’m only friends with some of them on social media, and even then I don’t check it frequently enough to know what’s happening in their lives.

“Remember Cho Eun Jung? Well, now she’s a famous fashion designer. Heard her designs were featured in Paris Fashion Week or something. And little Kim Ha-Joon? He has a family of his own now. They moved to America a while ago,” Namjoon notes, nose crinkling as he thinks. 

“Wow. Seems as if everyone’s out there living their life and I’m stuck in Seoul, single and still pursuing my dream career,” I say, melancholy sinking in. The truth is, what have I done with my life? Sure, I’m a successful architect but I’m not famous and I don’t have a family. I’m not even close with the family that I do have.

“Hey, don’t think of yourself that way. You’re still successful, I mean only five years and now you’re a top architect at one of the top corporations. I’d say that’s impressive,” Namjoon says, making me laugh. 

“Thanks, Namjoon. And look at you, principal on Tonjung Elementary. That’s impressive. If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to Mr. Han?” Mr. Han was our principal when Namjoon and I went to Tonjung. 

“I don’t mind at all, and he retired. I think he’s living around here somewhere with his wife,” replies Namjoon. I’m glad that Mr. Han retired, he deserves it. That man was an excellent principal. 

“Oh, that’s good. I’m happy for him. I’m also happy for you, and I’m happy that we can catch up. I mean, we are going to be working together for a couple years,” I say sheepishly. 

“That’s true. I’m glad that it’s you who I’m working with,” Namjoon says, flashing me a smile, his dimples prominent. 

I smile back.

“Me too.”

~

(I won’t be adding many details about the new school design because I am not an architect and don’t want to mess up anything about the process :))

The months pass by in a whirlwind with planning and sketching the new school. Namjoon and I try to make it similar to the old one, but there are a few modern adjustments that we add.

Currently, all of the students are having to go to school in a neighboring town. Namjoon and I work as quickly as we can so that they can come back and attend school here. 

~

September arrives and with it cooler weather. The leaves are starting to turn their gorgeous shades and I start wearing my knit sweaters. 

One day I’m heading over to Namjoon’s house because I forgot my laptop charger. I knock on his cerulean door and he answers, smiling that cute grin of his.

“Hey y/n! Come on in. I’m assuming you’re here for your laptop charger?”

I step inside, replying “Yes! I can’t believe I left it here. I’m so forgetful sometimes.” 

I grab it off of the coffee table, and am about to leave when Namjoon clears his throat.

“Would…you like to stay for a bit? I remember you wanting to watch that new k-drama and it just came out. You don’t have to though if you don’t want to! Sorry, I just thought maybe-“

“Namjoon,” I interrupt, smiling internally at his shyness, “It’s fine. I’d love to stay for a while. I’m glad that you remember when the k-drama was coming out because I sure didn’t!” 

After popping popcorn (our second bag as Namjoon burnt the first batch) and grabbing sodas we settle down to watch ‘Business Proposal’ (I know it didn’t come out this early but I love this k-drama okay? 😭). 

We binged the whole season that afternoon. After the last episode my stomach hurt from all the popcorn and soda but my heart was full. 

“The last scene was so pretty! Those cherry blossoms…” I sigh as I lean back into the couch, “I can only dream to have such a perfect proposal someday.”

“I know the right person will come along y/n. Just wait and see,” Namjoon says with such certainty that I look at him. How does he know that I’ll find someone?

“Yeah, I guess so,” I reply, letting my head drop to the couch. If I close my eyes, I can just imagine that this little moment was perfect. Namjoon and I in a perfect bubble. No outsiders or prying parents to belittle me. 

‎♪ looking at it now

it all seems so simple ‎♪

I hear the sound of a flash and open my eyes to see Namjoon holding a Polaroid camera. 

“Hey! Did you just take a picture of me?” I gasp at him as he grins sheepishly.

“Maybe?” 

“Why?” I ask him, trying to grab the camera out of his hand.

“Because! Look,” Namjoon says, showing me the picture.

I look so pensive, eyes closed to the world. The sun beams down through the window and hits my face perfectly like I’m in a movie. My hair is spread on the couch in a surprisingly beautiful way.

‎♪ we were lying on your couch

I remember ‎♪

“Wow, I didn’t know you had such a touch for photography Namjoon!” I praise, seeing the man blush.

“Oh, it’s not that hard when I have a great subject to photograph.” Namjoon waves off the compliment. 

“Can I keep the picture?” I ask, grinning excitedly when he drops it into my hands, “Thanks!”

Namjoon holds the camera out in front of both of us. “Let’s take a selfie together, y/n.” 

“Okay!” I say, getting close and throwing up a peace sign. Flash! 

‎♪ you took a Polaroid of us

then discovered ‎♪

The picture comes out beautifully, the sun hitting the two of us just right and our beaming faces genuine. 

“Aww, we look so cute Namjoon. Why don’t you keep this picture because you let me keep the first one. A memory when we watched Business Proposal!” I cheer, feeling happy for the first time in a while. 

When was the last time I let myself just be with someone? No work, no worrying about parents or expectations. Just me and them. 

‎♪ the rest of the world was black and white

but we were in screaming color ‎♪

I blink, surprised with my sudden desire to cry. Was my life so monotone that simple moments like these made me happy? Did…Namjoon make me happy? No, it was just the fun of hanging out with someone. That’s why, I’m riding the high of having a true friendship. No other reason. 

‎♪ and I remember thinking

are we out of the woods yet?

are we in the clear yet? ‎♪

~

It’s December and the air is cooler as winter sneaks in. I’m over at his house about a week until Christmas, complaining about my parents (yet again). 

“They want me to go to their annual Christmas party! Which is fine, because, like, my family will be there, but that means a night of suffering as they compare me to my cousins. Half of my cousins are married, some have children, and the others at least live close by. I don’t check any of those boxes so they’ll just use the night to make me feel guilty!” I rant while sitting on Namjoon’s couch. 

‎♪ looking at it now 

last this december ‎♪

Namjoon winces. 

“I’m sorry…do your parents even know how they make you feel?”

“But it’s not just my family! You know my parents, they invite the whole damn town!” I plow on, then stop after realizing Namjoon said something, “Sorry, what did you say?” 

“I said that I’m sorry and asked if your parents know how bad they make you feel. It’s obvious they don’t, but have you tried talking to them about it?” Namjoon repeats. 

“Oh, don’t apologize. It’s not your fault they’re this way. And yeah, I have tried to talk to them. Since high school, actually, when I told them I wanted to pursue being an architect. But they turned it down immediately! They didn’t even listen to me!” I put my head into my hands.

Namjoon puts his arm around me in a half hug.

“I wish there was a way for me to help you, y/n. If it makes you feel any better, I can come to the party with you. Your parents did invite me.”

Of course they did. They want me to find someone so desperately that they probably invited all of the eligible bachelors in Tonjung. 

I lean into Namjoon’s hug, trying to absorb some of his calming aura. 

‎♪ we were built to fall apart

then fall back together ‎♪

The day of the dreaded party arrives and I shove myself into a sparkly red dress that’s itchy and uncomfortable. I feel like a present. 

At precisely 5:20pm my doorbell rings. Grabbing my purse I open the door to see Namjoon. In a suit. Wow, he cleans up nice.

“Joon! You look great. That suit looks great on you,” I babble. Since when have I been nervous around him?

“Same to you! Well, not about the suit but that dress. Looks really good on you,” Namjoon stumbles out. Looks like I’m not the only awkward one. 

I smile. 

“Thank you Namjoon. Shall we?” 

“Oh! Before we leave, I wanted to give you your Christmas gift.” He brings out a small velvet box from behind his back.

I gasp, then say, “Joon! You didn’t have to get me anything. I didn’t get you anything!” 

“It’s okay,” Namjoon says, stepping inside, “I don’t need anything. I’m just glad that we’re friends.”

He hands me the box and I open it. Inside is a simple chain necklace with a gold North Star charm at the end. I look closer at it and realize-

“Namjoon! This is your necklace! I can’t accept this. It’s yours!” I try to give him the box back but he refuses.

“Please accept it. It will look perfect on you,” Namjoon pleads, and after trying again to give it back but failing, I accept it. 

“Okay, Joon, thank you. It’s beautiful. Could you help me put it on?”

“Of course.” 

He takes it out gently and brings it in front of my neck. Fastening it carefully I look down at it. 

It fits perfectly.

‎♪ ooh, your necklace hanging from my neck

the night we couldn’t quite forget ‎♪

The party is dull. My parents compare me to my cousins, introduce me to tasteless men, and force me to talk to their judgmental friends. Luckily, Joon is there to help ease some of the pain. We last about an hour before leaving, saying we have ‘work to do on the design.’ To which my parents ignore. Oh well. Who cares? Not me.

Namjoon and I go to his house after (we always go to his house instead of my Air BnB because I said it feels more cozy). We collapse on the couch and laugh, thinking about our escapades at the party. Counting how many mini quiches my cousin ate, seeing how many chocolates we could sneak into Namjoon’s pocket. 

“Hey! Why don’t we do karaoke? That’ll be fun way to ring in Christmas!” Namjoon says excitedly. And he’s right. It is Christmas Eve after all.

“Okay,” I agree. And we move the coffee table and chairs and then plug in the machine. After a couple rounds we tire out and decide to just listen to the Christmas radio. Jingle Bell Rock comes on and I find myself pulling Namjoon up off the couch.

“C’mon Joon, dance with me!” He’s reluctant at first but eventually we find a rhythm, happy and free.

‎♪ when we decided, we decided

to move the furniture so we could dance ‎♪

White Christmas comes on and Namjoon grabs my hand and we start to slowly ‘waltz’ around the room (it’s mostly swaying). I feel my heart start to beat faster, my face flush.

‎♪ baby, like we stood a chance ‎♪

I can feel Namjoon’s body heat and force myself to look into his eyes. Those, caring, sweet, beautiful eyes. He looks back at me. Our faces are mere inches apart, and I slowly press my lips to his. He doesn’t pull away. 

‎♪ two paper airplanes flying, flying, flying ‎♪

~ 

I spend the night, wearing his clothes and sleeping next to him. We cuddle up and wake up together on Christmas morning. 

“Good morning beautiful,” Namjoon says in his deep morning voice.

I blush. 

“Good morning Joon,” I reply, trying to hide my face.

“Merry Christmas,” he says, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. 

“Merry Christmas. I’m sorry I didn’t get you a gift,” I say, still thinking of what I could give him.

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart. You are the best gift.”

‎♪ and I remember thinking 

are we out of the woods yet?

are we in the clear yet? ‎♪

~

December turns to April, four months of dating Namjoon. My parents are overjoyed, but I manage to ignore their suggestive comments and instead focus on the man himself. 

Valentine’s Day is a whole affair, Namjoon giving me the biggest bouquet of wildflowers, handpicked by him. And if that wasn’t enough, he also gifts me a whole bouquet of chocolate-covered strawberries (which he found out are my most favorite food ever). I get him a moon necklace that matches my North Star one, teasing, “Now we can be one of those cheesy couples who have matching necklaces.” 

On a muddy spring day in March we make a spontaneous trip to a neighboring town’s traveling carnival. After buying sugary cotton candy and popcorn, Namjoon and I try our hands at the games. We each win a stuffed animal for each other, me winning him a koala and him winning me a giant panda. Their names are Koya and James respectively. The carousel is fun, us holding hands like lovesick teenagers the entire time and (probably) annoying all the kids riding. At the end of the day Namjoon and I go on the Ferris wheel, kissing sweetly at the top beneath the velvet starry sky.

Namjoon makes me feel the happiest I’ve ever felt. My self esteem has definitely improved and my heart is constantly full. He treats me like a queen and I hope that I treat him like the king that he is. 

We go on cute dates around town. Coffee shop dates on rainy days, reading for hours on end at the library, feeding each other chocolate-covered strawberries at the park. Although, I think the best ones are either a simple afternoon at the beach or cuddling on the couch. 

We often dance together in his living room, two souls in their own world. Just like the day of the Polaroid picture (which he has up on his wall), I feel as though I’m in my own bubble of joy. 

‎♪ are we out of the woods yet?

are we in the clear yet? ‎♪

But not all good things last forever.

Talk of the future rarely come up, but when it does Namjoon is surprisingly avoidant of answering anything. I know that I have my job in the city, and I also know that he loves the beach and being away from crowds of people. How could this work? 

A particularly bad argument leads to me storming out, irritated that Namjoon doesn’t want to discuss our relationship after the school is finished. And with how far it’s progressing, it looks to be done in about a year. 

“Sweetheart, please. I’m not ready to talk about this yet because I don’t want to think about it,” Namjoon implores as I start to gather my things.

“You’re never ready. We have to talk about it someday, and I need to know about the future of us.” I’m so frustrated about this reoccurring disagreement, and this is a sign that it’s time for me to leave. “I’m leaving, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” His hand on my arm only further annoys me. 

“Sweets, please don’t leave. I just…have commitment issues. Forgive me, but thinking that far ahead makes me feel tied down. I just want to live in the moment,” he pleads.

I look into those dark eyes and see something vulnerable and raw in there. There’s a nagging voice in the back of my head that says to stay but I turn and go out the door. 

“Y/n!” 

‎♪ remember when you hit the brakes too soon? 

twenty stitches in a hospital room ‎♪

I get into my car and start driving in the downpour. I don’t know where I’m going,  but I do know that I need to get out of this town.

The rocky cliffs are jagged in the lightning and I angrily pump the gas once more. I see a shape dart out and try to hit the brakes. But I’m too slow. All I see is black as the world fades away.

‎♪ when you started crying, baby, I did too

but when the sun came up, I was looking at you ‎♪

I groggily open my eyes and the first thing I see is a body sitting in a chair. As I come to, I also notice curtains and an IV. I’m in a hospital.

“Y/n! Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I feel like it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let you leave I should’ve made you stay and you could’ve died…” 

Namjoon. 

He’s here.

I turn to look at him and smile weakly. 

“Joon, it’s okay. I’m okay.” 

Those words seem to break him and he comes and holds me close while sobbing.

‎♪ I was looking at you ‎♪

After he’s calmed down he tells me what happened. I hit a deer last night and had a concussion. After finding me and rushing me to the hospital I had to have twenty stitches (this probably isn’t accurate and I apologize). 

Namjoon tells me that my parents have come to visit but I wasn’t awake when they came. It’s now two pm.

“I’m so sorry. So so sorry. It was my fault and I shouldn’t have let you leave-“

“Namjoon.” I cut off his rambling, “You sound like a broken record. It’s okay. I’m okay. Can we talk about what happened before the accident?” I know it’s quick, but I need to know before another horrible happens.

I feel his hand tense before he says, “Sure.”

“Please, Namjoon, tell me why you have commitment issues. I want to know everything about you. Please tell me. I want to be with you, I want to stay with you, but we need to be able to trust each other. Trust me, Namjoon,” I beg, trying to understand.

‎♪ remember when we couldn’t take the heat? 

I walked out, I said “I’m setting you free” ‎♪

Namjoon casts his eyes down. 

“I’m sorry y/n…you deserve to know. I-I’ll do my best to explain it.” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “The future used to be something I would obsess over, planned to the very last detail. I had a girlfriend that I dated all through college, and I truly thought that she was the one.” It doesn’t bother me that Namjoon had another girlfriend, but I’m surprised he didn’t tell me about her sooner.

 “She was a part of my future, but I suddenly found out that she’s been cheating. That changed everything. My whole future was thrown askew. It was then that I decided to live freely and not worry about the future because I didn’t know what was in store. To not be tied down and to be spontaneous,” Namjoon finishes.

‎♪ but the monsters turned out to be just trees ‎♪

It makes so much sense, why he wants to live this free life. I understand that his past girlfriend scarred him in many ways, and I don’t blame him for being nervous. But I still wish he would’ve told me all this.

“I understand Namjoon, and I’m sorry that happened to you. Why didn’t you tell me this before? I know we’ve only been dating for a couple months, but I feel that this is something important to share.” 

“I know, and I’m sorry. I should’ve told you all this. Do you think you could forgive me? I promise that I will try to be more open and think a little bit more about my future with you,” Namjoon vows.

“I will forgive you. Eventually. But we need to work on communication if we want this to work.” I raise my eyebrows at him.

“Deal.” 

He leans over to kiss my cheek.

‎♪ when the sun came up you were looking at me ‎ ‎♪

And I let him. 

‎♪ you were looking at me ‎♪

~

Two years later

~ 

The beach is hardly crowded today, only a few people set up with their umbrellas. Which is surprising, since it’s the start of summer. I guess the tourist waves hasn’t hit yet. 

Joon carries a picnic basket in one hand and holds mine in his other. He says that he has a surprise date planned, but I don’t see much of a surprise because of the picnic basket. 

We decided that it was best to take things slow, build up trust within one another. While the school was being finished, we took time to relax and get to know each other a bit better. Joon opened up more and I listened and now I better understand him. After the school was done, we had a big talk about our future. 

I decided to quit my job and start my own architecture business in Tonjung, letting me live that CEO life while also being in Namjoon’s life. It’s a pretty successful corporation, as my main goal was to focus on smaller towns and help them. 

I also had a big talking to with my parents. I explained how I felt and tried to get them to listen and understand me. They still want grandchildren, but they’re a little more understanding now of how that may or may not happen.

Joon and I aren’t even married yet, let alone thinking about children. Right now, all I want to do is enjoy this picnic ‘surprise’ date that he’s set up.

“Here’s the perfect spot for the picnic,” Joon says, leading me to a place away from other people while also being shaded. So much for a surprise.

We spread the blanket out then open the basket. I instantly see the chocolate-covered strawberries that I adore so much and grab one to munch on. 

“You and your strawberries,” Joon says fondly, shaking his head at me. 

“Hey, what can I say, I love them,” I mumble with my mouth full. 

Joon laughs and I see those dimples of his pop out. That grin still never fails to make me have butterflies. 

“And I love you.” He kisses the top of my head. 

We enjoy the picnic and as we’re packing up Joon stops me. 

“Wait, y/n, I have the surprise.” 

I look at him questioningly as he pulls out a tiny box. 

Then he gets down on one knee.

I start to go teary-eyed. 

“Choi y/n, I know this isn’t a cherry blossom proposal from Business Proposal-“

I laugh at that, thinking about that evening.

“-but I hope this is just as special. You are the most talented, smart, amazing, and gorgeous woman I’ve ever met. Even in high school you were already surpassing everyone else. I’m so lucky to call you my girlfriend. Thank you for putting up with me and for loving me as I am. You never fail to make me laugh and always make me feel better when I’m having a rough day. I trust you more than anyone and I love you more than you will ever know.”

I let the tears fall as Joon finishes.

“And with that, I ask you, Choi y/n, will you marry me?” 

Blinking, I answer the question.

“Yes.” 

‎♪ are we out of the woods yet?

are we out of the woods yet?

are we out of the woods yet?

are we out of the woods? 

are we in the clear yet? 

are we in the clear yet?

are we in the clear yet? 

in the clear yet, good ‎♪

a/n: thanks for reading! 💕

[ghstsrock]

- writing -

who I’ll write for ！ here all my dreams began

　ㅤ　　ㅤ　film﹐﹢🗯

　⊂⊃ The Karate Kid

　⊂⊃ American Psycho

　⊂⊃ The House That Jack Built

　ㅤ　　ㅤ　shows﹐﹢🗯

　⊂⊃ Eight is Enough (😈)

　⊂⊃ Young Justice

　⊂⊃ Justice League

　ㅤ　　ㅤ　literature﹐﹢🗯

　⊂⊃ The Outsiders

　⊂⊃ Twilight

　⊂⊃ Frankenstein

recommend things for me to write about and if I can pull it off then I’ll add it to the list!

what I’ll write ！ I would love to go

now, I’m not into doing anything super crazy. I’m no quizzicalwriter or call-me-holly. But I’m down for writing headcanons and taking a jab at full stories

I’m cool with writing for ships (as long as they’re appropriate), all genders, y/n or reader characters, all that jazz!

I’m sure there’s stuff I’m leaving out, so feel free to leave that in the request when you make one.

My main idea for this account is to go into depth about story plot points or characters in an attempt to understand them or introduce how I view them.

I try my best to keep the characters as close to their original concept as possible, but I also like adding small random details.

I also want to dip my toes into things like music analysis bc … i love music .. love .. music .. aghh

tl;dr : I wanna write video essays but without the video, but I’ll write fan fiction too lmao

what I won’t write ！ I would rather not go

rules AHH!! Don’t worry, there the basic stuff.

I won’t write smut (and the crowd goes home), proship content, 🍇, slipper-slide, incest, sh, ed, a/b/o - I just discovered the meaning of that today :D, stuff like that.

here are ships I won’t write for romantically: sliverrusso, kreese x johnny, dallyboy (or whatever it’s called), greg x maz (that ship scares me), and other things like that.

I don’t feel enough people talking about Johnny and Kreese and the effects they had on each other (emotionally and traumatically) and that needs to change.

I also, and this is a big one, REFUSE to write Curtis Reader shit. Okay? Hot take, I just don’t get down like that

sorry for the violence, thank for you for your time.

[mirrorballmika]

freefall (ao3)

prompt: I’ve got you, I’ve got you. hurt/comfort.

“Have I mentioned that I hate this plan?” Bose asks. “Because I do. I really hate this plan.”

“Trust me, none of us want this,” Ray sighs. “But it’s not like we have another option.”

Bose isn’t sure how much he believes that. They’ve only been in this predicament for a day, maybe a little more. There must be other options, yet here they are. At least a dozen silver wires run from Mika’s head and neck like strands of a spiderweb, hooking her up to what looks like a modified game system from the 90s. With the thick box screen and black joystick, he’s not sure how else to describe it.

It doesn’t matter. What does matter is Mika and her deathlike grip on his hand. It’s the only thing that betrays the cool bravery on her face and in her body. She sits on what Schwoz called a bed, but it doesn’t look nearly comfortable enough to be called that, and she’s either pretending to be listening or actually listening as Schwoz outlines the fine details.

“Now, when you’re asleep, this machine will allow us to navigate through your brain and into your subconscious,” he explains.

“And if there’s still a part of Rick Twitler’s memories in there, it might help us work out what his next move is,” Ray adds.

“And you’re sure this will work?” Mika asks.

“And you’re sure it’s safe?” Bose adds, just loud enough for them to hear him. Ray freezes, and his gaze shifts from Mika to Bose. He tries to hide it, but Bose has seen that look before. It’s almost permanently etched on his stepdad’s face; the one where he’s desperately trying to hold back an eye-roll.

He drops his eyes to the floor and decides to save his pity for later.

“Yes, it’s safe,” he says. “As safe as it can be anyway. As for whether it’ll work… only one way to find out.”

A myriad of responses rush to the front of his mind but he dismisses all of them in one swoop. They’ve all learned what fighting with Ray can cause and they don’t need it now. Instead, he turns to Mika and tilts her face to his, using his hand to block out the other two.

“You don’t need to do this,” he says in a low voice. “We can find out Twitler’s plan without this.”

“Yeah, a way that takes twice as long,” she tells him. Her hand leaves his and travels up his arm, a gesture that in most cases would be soothing. The corners of her mouth and he almost smiles back. “I’ll be fine, trust me.”

He’s not sure he believes that. But he also knows he can’t talk her out of this. Sometimes he doesn’t know who’s the more stubborn one; her or Ray. So instead of pressing he settles for kissing her forehead and pushing his hands on the bed so she can’t feel his shaking.

They stay like that for a second or so, foreheads pressed together like they can stop time if they hold each other long enough.

Unfortunately, the Omega Weapon didn’t grant them that power. So Mika nuzzles him and then turns away, sliding her hand into his as their only contact. Bose watches as with a determined nod, Bose watches as Mika lies back on the bed. Her dark eyes stare up at the ceiling, white light reflecting in their pupils. She exhales, long and steady, and squeezes Bose’s hand.

“Let’s do this,” she says. Ray steps back as Schwoz comes over, a needle glinting in his hand. Mika’s eyes don’t move as he wipes down her arm, but her hand grips Bose’s so tightly it might burst. Bose doesn’t complain. He wouldn’t even if she ripped his arm off.

“Just take a deep breath,” Schwoz tells her. He moves the needle into position on her arm. Mika’s jaw is so tight that he worries it might snap.

“Do it.”

Bose doesn't watch him insert the needle. Instead, he watches Mika’s face. She gasps a little when the needle pierces her skin, then her eyes flutter shut and her features start to relax. In seconds, her desperately tight hold on his hand weakens until it’s just him holding onto limp fingers.

He whispers her name softly but firmly, and his hand brushes her warm cheek. Nothing.

“Okay,” Ray says flatly. “She’s out for the count. Let’s do this.” Bose’s eyes don’t leave his mentor’s as Schwoz begins. Ray’s expression is unreadable, his face half hidden by a closed fist. His usual larger-than-life demeanour is shrunk down to size and something is unsettling about it.

Ray glances across at him and for a second, Bose finds a vulnerability that’s so unlike Ray that he’s convinced he imagined it.

“I’m in Mika’s memories,” Schwoz announces. “In her short-term memory now…”

“So like… the things she did today?”

“Yes.” Schwoz’s tongue pokes out the corner of his mouth as he concentrates. He moves the joystick with incredible carefulness Bose forgets for a second how chaotic he usually is. “Okay, shifting into her long-term-”

“I still think this is too risky,” Bose hears himself say. He looks over at Schwoz again and tries not to think about what could happen if that careful, dedicated focus breaks.

“I know,” Ray replies. He opens his mouth like he’s about to say more, but nothing comes and he just keeps hanging halfway between Mika and Schwoz, his gaze shifting between them. “I know.”

His voice comes out shaky, unsteady, and it’s then that Bose’s anger gives way to something else. He wonders, in that brief moment, if Ray is thinking about Henry at this moment. He also wonders how he should feel about that.

A sharp groan from Mika draws their attention back to her. Her forehead creases slightly, tension locking her jaw.

“What’s happening?”

“Shifting into some unpleasant memories,” Schwoz says. “Mika is reliving things she’d rather forget.”

“Well get out of there!”

“I can’t. Not right away.” Schwoz’s eyes stay on the monitor, but his mouth presses into a thin line. “This is a delicate business.

Bose sighs and looks back at Mika. On the surface, he doesn’t doubt what Schwoz said. If he trusts anyone to get Mika out of this safely, it’s him. That doesn’t make him want to rip those wires out of her and smash that computer to pieces. It just means that he won’t. Because he’s smarter than he pretends he is and he’s gotten good at ignoring and repressing his anger over the years. Now is just the best time to practice it.

“Bose.” He looks up to find Ray standing over him, his hands wringing in front of his chest. “You don’t have to be here. I’m sure AWOL and Volt wouldn’t say no to some help. Bose bites his tongue. He knows full well the reason Miles was sent on patrol with Chapa was because he wouldn’t be able to handle seeing Mika like this. Hell, it was Mika’s idea that he go. He also knows that he promised Miles that he wouldn’t leave Mika’s side until it was over.

Not that he was ever planning to. But he made that promise to himself and both Macklin twins, which is why he runs his thumb over Mika’s knuckles and replies “yeah, I do”.

He doesn’t see Ray’s reaction.

Mika only gets worse the further Schwoz goes. Her steady breathing turns into short, quick gasps, broken by pained moans. The monitor across from them grows louder as her heart grows more frantic. Bose can only sit helplessly at her side, try not to drown in his uselessness and attempt to make it bearable. He runs his finger lightly across her cheek and brushes her hair away from her face.

“It’s okay,” he tells her quietly. “It’s okay, I’m right here. I’ve got you, it’s okay.” Her fingers tighten around his and he squeezes back. “It’s okay.”

If his words have any effect, it’s drowned out by whatever is going on in Mika’s brain. At some point, Schwoz declares he’s entering her subconscious, and the whimper Mika gives feels more like a plea for help. Bose raises his efforts to ease her pain, but they feel even more futile than they did before.

He guesses there’s only so much one guy can do.

“Schwoz, is this nearly over?” he asks. Mika is almost entirely on her side, curled up with her back to Schwoz’s machine. Her face is screwed with fear and pressed into her knees like she’s hiding. Bose pushes her hair away only to find his hand trembling. “Schwoz?”

“Almost there,” Schwoz says in a voice he guesses is meant to be reassuring. “I’ve located all of her memories from when she was possessed by Rick Twitler. All I have to do is enter.”

Silence falls over the three of them. Even Mika’s whimpering grows quiet. Because this is it. Mika told him about how it all felt on her side. He listened as she told him how she was held hostage in her own body, how loudly she had screamed when it started. How she was in the same room as all of them but felt a kind of loneliness she didn’t know existed. He watched as she fought to feel at home in her skin again. He was there for the shaking and the crying and the sweating and once or twice for the throwing up.

He can’t make her go through that again.

Bose looks up at Ray and finds a surprising amount of apprehension. Maybe Mika told him. Maybe she didn’t and he still knows. For a second, the look on Ray’s face makes him think it’s over.

Then he’s reminded who he’s with. Ray turns to Schwoz and says “let’s get this over with”.

Bose considers himself a forgiving person, but right now his limits are being tested.

It’s only seconds of Schwoz moving the joystick before Mika mumbles “no”. It starts quietly, her voice breaking on that one syllable, before it comes again, louder.

“No.”

Her body curls in on itself even more, and her hand clings to Bose’s like he’s a liferaft. The monitor’s beeping becomes stronger until it’s punching Bose’s skull. Mika’s free hand grips the mattress, her nails digging into the fabric.

She calls out “no, please, no”. A tear bursts from her eyelid and runs down her cheek, followed by another, then another, and Bose can’t take it anymore.

“Stop it,” he says. Still holding Mika’s hand, he looks over at Schwoz and Ray, his anger riling behind his gritted teeth. “Stop it. Get her out.”

“Bose, we can’t-”

“I don’t care!” The words echo across the room. He looks down at Mika through his falling hair and feels his cheeks burn. Mika shakes her head roughly, half-breathing and half-sobbing. “I don’t care whether or not it worked, just get her out of there!”

There’s a moment when no one says anything. Bose hears his words repeated back to him and his voice has never sounded so unfamiliar. Mika whimpers again, louder than before. Bose looks down and almost stops breathing. Even in their line of work, he didn’t think it was possible for someone to look so scared.

He swallows the lump in his throat and whispers “please”.

Ray’s face is almost completely hidden from view, but he nods and Bose almost lets himself be relieved. Almost.

“Get her out Schwoz.”

Schwoz doesn’t push back. Instead, he runs to the monitor and does whatever he needs to do with a steely determination. Bose waits, Mika’s heartbeat punctuating the seconds, and braces himself for whatever is about to happen.

Mika’s eyes fly open, her hands grasping desperately at him. Her nails scratch against his skin, but he doesn’t care. Her terrified cries fill the Man’s Nest, her words overlapping and bleeding into a horrified jumble.

Bose moves with her as she sits up, one hand on her back as he tries to cut through the images she’s still seeing in her mind.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” he tells her. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, it’s okay. I’m here, it’s okay.”

He repeats it for what could be minutes or hours until her screaming dies down. He repeats it even then, whispering in her ear with her head on his chest. Even when he’s just competing with her heavy gasps, he doesn’t stop. Her hands are balled up in his shirt, her body shaking against his chest. He keeps telling her that he's got her and she's okay and he's right there.

He presses a kiss to her head just as she speaks up.

“Bose?”

“I’ve got you,” he says softly. He holds her closer and links his fingers through hers. “I’ve got you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Ray and Schwoz in the corner.

“It’s okay,” he breathes.

Seconds pass in silence. Bose blinks and finds his eyes damp and his cheeks sticky. When did he start crying?

Mika shifts so that her face is pressed into the crook of his neck. No doubt whatever he’s feeling, she’s feeling ten times over, plus some things he’ll never get.

“Did we do it?” she asks.

In the corner, Ray shakes his head.

On the one hand, Bose couldn’t care less if it worked or not.

On the other… it means Mika went through all that for nothing and Twitler’s still one step ahead of them. And she’ll blame herself, regardless of what he says otherwise.

So he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he kisses her head again and reminds her that he’s got her.

If he can’t promise anything else, he can promise that.

[pcttrailsidereader]

A COOL PERSPECTIVE

I am about to set out on a backpacking trip. Over the years I have encountered hikers who cold soak their meals eliminating the need for carrying a stove or fuel. I am not sure I am ready to take the 'plunge' but Heather Daya Rideout has some good perspectives and even some great strategies for exploring this method.  HS

Cold-Soak No-Cook Backpacking Meals

Heather Daya Rideout May 3, 2022 Frequently Asked Questions, UL-Backpacking

The terms “cold-soak” and “no-cook” have become popular lingo amongst backpackers who opt for another way to eat on-trail without using a stove. Cold-soaking is a no-cook method where you simply soak dry food with water to prepare a meal. Sounds easy, right? For the most part, it is – but if you’re new to the cold-soak world and want to give it a try, there are a few tricks of the trade to make your experience more worthwhile and some points to consider to see if it’s right for you before you ditch your stove for good.

The Basics: How to Cold-Soak

This is the basic, four-step process to stoveless cooking (aka “cold-soak” or “no-cook”). I’ll include more details to elaborate on these four steps to come.

Get a jar that seals and doesn’t leak.

Pour filtered water over the food.

Be aware of the timing – make sure the meal has enough time to “cook.”

Stir and eat it when ready.

Benefits of Cold-Soaking Backpacking Food

So what’s the hype with cold-soaking? I did some research on cold-soaking before I started my Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) hike. I had been super content carrying a stove on my Appalachian Trail (AT) thru-hike, yet this cold-soaking technique had become all the rage since then, so I thought it was worth a look. I decided to do both – carry my trusty stove, pot, and a small Talenti Gelato jar that was only 1.9 ounces. Sure, many ultralight hikers would laugh at me because they had opted to ditch the stove and fuel to save weight, and here I had both in my pack, but I wasn’t sold on cold-soaking just yet.

Through my experimentation and the feedback of other cold-soak junkies, here are the key benefits of Cold-Soaking Backpacking Meals.

Lighten the Load

Some hikers believe it’s less weight to carry when you don’t have a stove or fuel to lug around in your backpack. However, you do have to carry the weight of that water mixed with your food in the container, so it may only save a bit of weight since stoves can be quite light. In terms of space, it definitely feels less bulky to me on subsequent trips when I’ve just carried my Talenti jar and that’s it.

Less Worry

It’s difficult to figure out how much stove fuel you need to carry on a trip, which urges one to lean on the side of caution and carry more. With cold-soaking, you leave that fuel-guessing game behind and don’t have to haul bulky gas canisters.

Cost-Efficient

No-Fuss

After a long day of hiking when energy is lacking, sometimes it can feel like a drag to pull out the stove, cook, eat, and then clean up. The same goes with mornings if you just want to get out of your tent and start hiking right away. With cold-soaking, you can walk while your food rehydrates and then stop to eat it whenever you wish.

I really liked doing this when I wanted to hike very early in the dessert section of the PCT to avoid the heat; I would cold-soak my oats and eat them when I wanted a break after an hour or so of walking. On days I was putting in a lot of miles, I chose to cold-soak and carry my food which was ready to eat when I got to camp at night without doing anything extra. This also worked well for me if I wanted to hike at night. I would cold-soak my food around dusk, hike while it did its cooking thing on my back, break to eat, and then keep going without the big production of having to bust out my stove, wait for the water to boil, cook, etc. When efficiency and time are factors, cold-soaking is awesome.

Easy Clean-Up

All you have to do is add some filtered water to your jar after eating, shake, and then drink to clean up easily. I personally like to wipe out any last bits with a little toilet paper that I then pack out, to make sure it’s dry and I’m not sealing up a wet jar; this is especially important in a hot climate where it can get funky. It’s a bit questionable as to how sanitary you can really get that container, especially if it has little grooves in it at the base. On the flip side, when you boil water in your pot, you help to disinfect and sterilize it, which is worth mentioning.

A Rain-Friendly Method

It’s never fun to cook on your stove outside when it’s raining and it’s definitely not advisable to ever use a stove in your tent. Some hikers cook under the tent’s vestibule, but honestly, doing that always freaks me out as I imagine my tent going up in flames should an accident occur. With cold-soaking, you don’t have to worry about getting wet or going hungry if you need to eat in your tent during a storm.

Fire Ban Areas

There are trails you may hike where fire bans are in effect because of wildfire risk and you can’t use a stove. Knowing how to cold-soak doesn’t limit where you can go and ensures you’re respectful of the rules of where you’re backpacking.

Less Smell to Attract Bears

Downsides to Cold-Soaking Backpacking Food

There are always two sides to a coin, and that’s no different with cold-soaking as a cooking method. Although I grew quite fond of cold-soaking at times, I still like carrying a stove. Here are some reasons why, and when, you may not wish to cold-soak your food.

No Hot Meals or Drinks

This reason is pretty obvious: no stove means no heat, which means nothing hot to consume. I find that in some conditions, having a warm meal can be soothing and comforting. Not only is this ideal in cold weather, but also for the ritualistic aspect of pausing to break and eat, without rush or hurry. To be transparent, I really don’t like crushing big miles, but I do it when I have a goal and need to hike hard to attain it. I prefer creating time and spaciousness on my trips to enjoy my food and nourish myself well, both nutritionally and emotionally. Cold-soaking can be more of an ‘eat and get it done’ experience which isn’t always what I’m going for when I backpack.

With that said, there were times I didn’t feel as satisfied when I ate cold-soaked meals, and that I was just eating for the sake of it. Sometimes this came in handy, but it wouldn’t be my forever choice. This is worth giving some consideration to. What is your style of eating? Do you like to take time to eat or it doesn’t really matter to you as long as you’re fed? There’s no right or wrong way – you just have to know your way.

Food Choices May Be Limited

I conjured up plenty of cold-soak meal options while on-trail, and complimented it with other stoveless food choices, so there were days I never needed to whip out my stove. There are many possibilities out there with cold-soaking backpacking food, yet you may find some choices are limited. Most packaged backpacking meals cannot be cold-soaked, which includes brands like Mountain House. These meals often contain pasta and rice which really needs to become heated to be edible.

However, I do know hikers who cold-soak Knorr Rice Sides and Mac & Cheese with relative success; these dishes just need to be soaked for several hours before ready to consume. Note that quinoa and instant rice don’t work with cold-soaking. There are some packaged backpacking meals that do work with cold-soaking, but it’s just not a guarantee and requires some experimenting or research.

And if you’re like me, I can’t stand cold coffee, so I don’t even bother without a stove, although other hikers love it. You do you.

Weather Considerations

I mentioned that hot food from a stove and pot can be comforting, and it also can be warming in cold weather conditions. I get cold very easily so I need to think about how a stove benefits me not only for sustenance but in case I need to warm my hands and body temperature. Drinking warm beverages also can ward off hypothermia.

If you chill easily or do a lot of cold weather trips, you may not love cold-soaking. However, in hot, desert conditions and in summer, I’m not as excited about warm meals. I actually prefer the consistency of my cold-soaked oats with all my mix-ins than when I cook them. If you backpack in hot climates often, cold-soaking may be a dream come true.

A Stove is Back-Up Water Purifier

Cold-Soaking Tips and Tricks

Here are some more tips and tricks for cold-soaking meals,  so you can eat with success and pleasure.

Choosing a Cold-Soak Jar/Container

When choosing a cold-soaking vessel, look at these specifics.

The container needs to be leakproof and seal tightly.

It should be large enough and wide enough – if you’re going to have a lot of food inside, a small container won’t work for you.

Not too tall – your spoon or spork has to be able to reach the bottom and it’s tough to clean if too tall.

The container I’ve used with success seems to be one of the most commonly used on trial, the Talenti Gelato 473 ml jar that holds 16 ounces in volume and weighs 1.9 ounces. There were times I wished it was bigger, and this past summer I discovered the next size up – Talenti’s large 950 ml, 32-ounce jar that doesn’t weigh much more. Yes, it takes up more space, but no different than if you had a pot.

Hikers also like using peanut butter jars that seal well, which are also lightweight, and usually come in at around 750 ml. and 25 ounces for volume. Peanut butter jars can be taller though and a bit narrow; I like to be sure it’s wide enough so it’s user-friendly to pour my food into and scoop out. There are other jar options out there, just be sure to test it for ease of use and leaking before heading out on a trip. Also, don’t use glass because it’s heavier and can break.

Adding Water to Your Food

Adding water might sound straightforward, but there are a few nuances to consider.

Add enough water to cover your food completely, and then some.

Leave room for the food to expand as it rehydrates, which means you don’t want to fill the jar to the top with food.

Put on the lid and shake it, especially if you have spices and seasonings in the meals, so it’s distributed throughout.

You may want to give a shake to your food in the container periodically to ensure that the meal hydrates evenly, depending on what you’re cold-soaking.

Timing Your Cold-Soak Meals

Giving your food ample time to soak is crucial with this cookless technique. Some foods need more time than others to soak and become edible, and this should be accounted for regarding when you want to eat. I mentioned earlier how some hikers like to cold-soak Knorr Sides, which need hours to rehydrate well. Ramen noodles, on the other hand, take a half-hour.

Cold-soaker aficionados have it down to a science as to what foods need exactly what amount of time because they claim some things get mushy. Frankly, I don’t bother with those specifics when I backpack. I choose to give everything at least an hour to be safe, and sometimes more. For example, to be efficient in the morning, I’ll opt to soak my oats the night before.

Another factor to consider is planning around when you’re near a water source to get that extra water for your food to soak. I also like to channel the power of the sun to help “cook’ my food while I walk; I keep my container on the outside of my backpack in my front mesh pouch.

The key takeaway is not to forget you have to soak your meal, or you’ll be one hungry hiker.

Stir and Eat When Ready

Good Cold Soak Foods

Here’s a list of foods that can be cold-soaked. I’m very health-conscious with my food choices in life and while backpacking, so I tend to stay with foods that are natural, with no preservatives or weird ingredients. That’s what works for me, yet I encourage you to choose what’s right for you.

Couscous

Rice Noodles (I prefer these over ramen, although they can get mushy)

Oatmeal

Quinoa Flakes (like oatmeal in texture)

Instant Mashed Potatoes

Ramen Noodles

Polenta Mix or Grits

Dehydrated Refried Beans

Dried Hummus

Creamy Soups (I like McDougall’s Brand, but you can also find these in the bulk section of co-ops. Split pea & black bean are loaded with protein)

Dried Falafel Mix (Doesn’t look like falafel balls, but tastes good and is like a spread)

Breakfast Powders, Protein Powders, Peanut Butter Powder, Coconut Powder

Freeze-dried Fruits and Veggies & Dehydrated (some don’t work great)

Dried Seaweed

Cold-Soak Meal Recipes & Ideas

One way to make cold-soaking work, in a way that it’s a whole meal, is to combine it with other stoveless food choices. Here are some of my favorite, healthy cold-soak meal creations you can try out on a backpacking trip.

Dried oats or quinoa flakes mixed with protein powder or coconut milk powder, cinnamon, dried fruits or dehydrated fruits, dried coconut, cacao nibs, maca powder, matcha powder, hemp seeds, flax meal, chia seeds, and any other nuts/seeds you like.

Granola can be mixed with protein powder, coconut milk powder, or even water and soaked in advance to make it softer.

Couscous mixed with a packet of salmon or tuna, dried fruit, and nuts, sea salt. Near East is a good brand if you want flavored, or you can add your own seasonings like garam masala, curry, garlic for Indian; lemongrass and ginger for Thai; cumin, chipotle, chili for Mexican, etc.

Hummus, falafel mix, or refried beans mix with blue corn chips (any chips/crackers you like works) or on a tortilla. Nutritional yeast has protein and adds a cheesy flavor.

Polenta mixed with jerky is tasty.

Rice noodles mixed with dried seaweed and peanut butter powder is a go-to for me. (I like Rice Ramen by Lotus Foods which is low sodium and Mike’s Mighty Good).

Split Pea soup mix, Black Bean soup mix, Corn chowder soup mix, Curry Lentil soup mix – these are all high protein and yummy with crackers or chips for the crunch factor. I mentioned McDougall’s Soups above.

If you want to drink cold coffee, Four Sigmatic is a fantastic brand that makes single-serving packets. Pricey, but contains adaptogen herbs and mushrooms for a healthy, crash-free boost. They also make protein powders and other beverages.

Closing Thoughts

With a bit of knowledge and a spirit of experimentation, cold-soaking no-cook backpacking meals can be a fun adventure in itself. If you become familiar with the basic process and then play around with your personal tastes and the array of options out there, it can be a practical way to either leave the stove behind OR take it with you and do both (like this crazy hiker does). Whatever you choose, do what’s right for you and what makes you feel comfortable and free to enjoy your backpacking adventures.SectionHiker is reader-supported. We only make money if you purchase a product through our affiliate links. Help us continue to test and write unsponsored and independent gear reviews, beginner FAQs, and free hiking guides.

About the author

Heather Daya Rideout has been a life-long outdoorswoman. Her pursuits and passion for hiking and camping have taken her around the world for many long-distance trips; such as backpacking in Nepal, India, South America, Morocco, Europe, and North America. Heather has hiked the Appalachian Trail, the Pacific Crest Trail, and a route of 1,500 miles combining several Camino routes through Spain and Portugal. On any given day she would rather be outdoors than anything else and her lifestyle is a direct reflection of that deep love affair with nature. Heather currently lives in Idaho and she’s having a wondrous time experiencing the beauty it offers. You can read some of her other writing at Contently.com.

[storybook-with-a-hug]

Marinette’s Closet Part 1

So I admit I’ve not been writing as much lately for my new chapter as I could have been. Suffering a writer’s block of sorts. However, while I haven’t been able to get into the mood to write, I have still been focusing a lot of attention onto my Fix-It Miraculously story. 

Instead of writing, what I’ve been doing is a bunch of character design. Now, this is both redesign of future heroes and new heroes that I don’t really want to get into at this point because major spoilers for my series, and also what I have the ability to share here and now with expanding what the characters wear. 

However, there are seasons and time passing and all that jazz so I’m dividing things up somewhat. Below is Marinette’s season 1 Fall wardrobe, ie, what she wears for the first few months of the story. Pajamas not included. I’ll talk about each outfit in more detail below the picture counting the top left outfit as (a) and then going across each row in order. Oh, and I literally googled “quick fashion base” and picked the first one that looked like it would work. The base was on really extreme highheels so I had to change the side of the foot in each one, but there you have it. I did it so I wouldn’t take forever worrying about posing and proportions and all of that and could just focus on the clothes.

(a) Marinette’s default outfit from the show. Cute and her, but also not much to say about it because we’ve all seen it a million times. I stated in the beginning of Origins that Marinette, the spring before the series starts, went through a “flower phase” where she was embroidering everything with flowers. So a lot of her left-over clothes from that time will have flower-print somewhere on them. Those that don’t are likely new additions to her wardrobe since spring, which I don’t think is all that unreasonable seeing as she’s a designer who mainly wears her own creations.

(b) Another official outfit of hers, though this one was from promotional art. I used it as her “dressing up” design for Adrien’s birthday when she was trying to give him his present. It’s a frilly-rimmed baby-t with red plaid dress and blue denim capris. I couldn’t make up my mind out of Marinette’s four footwear choices which one looked good with it so I didn’t end up drawing shoes in. But seeing as all pieces of this wardrobe are interchangable with the other pieces, she’ll probably end up wearing all the footwear with at least some combination of clothes.

(c) A top for warmer weather in a pretty pale teal with a pair of ripped jeans. The top is another carry over from last spring as she embroidered a bunch of flowers and leaves into the upper section. Her hair is also in twin plait braids instead of her normal pigtails. I mentioned her wearing her hair like that in a scene with Manon a few chapters back and while it’s not her usual hairstyle cause it takes time to get ready like that, when she is awake early enough and not otherwise busy, she can wear her hair like that as well.

(d) This is an example of her “business” look. It’s the sort of thing she wears when meeting with clients for her commissions, carefully selected to make her look more mature and professional and less like a little kid running a lemonade stand. She IS 13 and trying to start up her own business, remember, so to help people take her seriously, she has to dress the part. So a simple silver shirt and a jacket as well as a pair of black skinny jeans topped with wearing her hair in a bun instead of pigtails to help add to the professional look. 

(e) This one was one that I really hesitated on, because it’s not really her normal style. The colours aren’t her usual bright pastels and the aesthetics just don’t quite seem to match. But at the same time I was trying to look a little outside the box with the outfit as early teens is when a lot of people start shifting into the more niche styles as they try to define themselves and she is a huge fan of Jagged Stone, a rock star, rather than the teeny-bopper type music one would usually associate with a preppy/dreamy/hyper-feminine girl around her age. So I figured why not have her attempt experimenting a bit with her style and try a new look from time to time?

(f) In the Origins chapter, I talked about how Marinette really loves cute skirts and things, but because of her clumsiness she doesn’t want to wear them ever in public because she’s worried about tripping and flashing everybody. So instead she just has a couple of skirts that she wears only on the weekends when she’s not intending on going out anywhere because she loves them so much. This one here is a drawstring gathered skirt out of the same material that broomstick skirts are made out of, along with just a simple white blouse and a denim jacket covered in patches and embroidery. Including Jagged’s head-outline design that Luka wears on her right arm and her entire left arm being encased in a winding vine embroidery that she did last spring. There’s potential for more patches to be added in the future.

(g) Another cute skirt, this time a pink cotton skater skirt with a sleeveless blouse. On the white blouse there are embroidered a whole bunch of white flowers. 

(h) A pair of purple tights with sheer paneling on them and a top/hat that were inspired straight from Marinette’s concept art where she wore a cream off-the-shoulder dress. I changed the button on the hat to be a flower instead of a ladybug shell because Ladybug merch is only started circulating at this point in the series and Marinette purposefully is a little behind the curve on that trend because she’s trying to avoid drawing attention to the similarities. I also added some flowery embroidery to the top of the outfit. The tights were originally going to be more pink, like a sky magenta colour, but then it ended up becoming more purple when I coloured it in and at the time I was just eager to get on to the next outfit and figured I’d come back later and tweak the colour, then just never did and decided it looks fine as is. 

(i) This is just a white denim top and deep pink denim jeans. And another hat, but... the hats can go with many different tops, I just sort of picked which ones to show them on a little randomly. This hat is knitted, something Marinette made before Adrien’s scarf. 

(j) This one is a little more of a rock-and-roll look. No, that’s not a leather jacket, it’s a business suit jacket with shorter sleeves, a white tanktop and the skirt that it took me three hours to draw the little red flowers and golden vines patern on all the layers of. The tooth necklace is a real tooth and was a present from Noona Gina from her travels. 

(k) Not much to say on this one either, other than that in Origins Marinette expressed that she liked teal and pink together so that’s why I chose the colours I chose for the outfit. That, and apparently coloured denim was a big thing in the 2010s so that’s why all the technicolored pants.

(l) A chinese-inspired red jacket (look at the ties in the front) over the same white blouse as was in (g) only this time not tucked in and shorts. I know short-shorts were sort of the thing to wear with thigh-high socks during this time, but she’s also 13 so her parents didn’t want her wearing short-shorts and she compromised with mid-thigh shorts and slightly shorter thigh-high socks. Also a hat. 

(m) The grey striped part is a really thin, flowy material, the skiny jeans continue on the technicolored rainbow of denim. Marinette has multiple pieces of jewelry that she’s cycled through for longer than she’s had her earrings, she just doesn’t wear them with every outfit. 

(n) That cotton skater skirt from (g) is back with a denim shirt that she’s tied off. I strongly think there’s likely a big flower design on the back of her shirt, but I couldn’t make anything look good so I erased it and am leaving it up to the imagination of the viewers to picture what it could look like. 

(o) Same denim shirt, this time untied, and covered with a cream knit shirt and more skiny jeans, this time with flowers embroidered/silkscreened onto them. Not really sure if I like the necklace she’s wearing. Found it online and it sort of looked like the one she wore in the concept art and thought I’d put it on her here to make the outfit look less plain. Not sure it succeeded. 

(p) Just another look I found online that I thought might work. Mainly picked out because of the darker top and red scarf. I wanted her to have more coloured shirts than just those samey pale colours and this one had a nice accessory that came with it. 

(q) Black shirt covered with silver flowers and a denim skater skirt and leggings. Maybe something she’d wear outside the house because of the leggings? Still, more cute skirts and another 1hr+ to do the detailing on the top. 

(r) And lastly, a simple pink jacket over a white tanktop and skiny jeans. The jeans were meant to be the same ones as in (p) and the white tanktop was supposed to be the same one as in (j) though they ended up having different necklines when I actually looked at them together. But it’s more proof that outfit parts are switched and swapped to make different end results. 

So in grand total, that’s 16 shirts, 7 jackets (including one overalldress thing), 16 pants/shorts/skirts, and four shoe options. That’s a lot of ways to mix and match to cover three months of fall before we get into the winter clothes. Some of these clothes will carry over into winter with maybe just a change of footwear while other pieces will be put away until spring or gotten rid of as she rotates in new fashion ideas. I’ll be taking a bit of a break before starting in on her winter wear, but I figured I’d share what I had so far for anyone who happens to stumble across this and decides they’re interested. 

[moneflower]

A Spring Never Coming

—------

Synopsis: Children are often the light in the relationship for parents to keep moving forward, despite the hardships and sacrifices that follow being one. As the saying goes, “all it takes is just one small change to change your life.”

But what happens when that light is snuffed out? Where do we go from there, and if so, is it possible to move on.

—------------------------------------

Opening Notes: For my first one it will be focused on two characters in the BSD world that I believe have an interesting dynamic to their real life counterparts and to the storyline: Fitzgerald, Nakahara, and minor parts of Oguri if you squint closely.

This will be a two-piece coinciding work: a mini analysis and creative work. The second part will be formatted in a poem-like structure in dedication to our favorite poet, Chuuya Nakahara- plus it’s more digestible that way.

Don’t worry if poems aren’t your thing because I’ll try to simplify it as much as I can without too many hidden metaphors or symbolism. It will all come from the heart, which I believe everyone to a certain extent is capable of feeling, right?

—-----------------------------------

Warnings: Below contains contents of implied death, loss of a loved one, and grieving - mostly angtsy stuff.

—-----------------------

In the context of children, we can say that in the world of BSD it’s quite lenient and loose in terms of laws and regulations regarding minors. But besides that, Asagari seems to be adding a lot of hidden ironies that the characters and real-life counterparts have.

First is Fitzgareld and his goal to find ‘the book’ to save his daughter. If you think this is sad, then as bearer of bad news: Chuuya, the author died without any offspring. I mean, he did have some, but they didn’t live long enough to carry on the bloodline.

His well known piece of work: ‘Spring May Never Come,’ explores this with his first son who unfortunately didn’t survive tuberculosis; the same very disease that killed his second infant son not long after, him, and many authors that are now characters of BSD.

Real life Fitzgerald had an only child who lived a pretty long life according to news articles that I read so I wonder if this tiny detail is a homage to the japanese author or added in for the sake of plot.

He did at one point spend all of his life savings after the success of his well known: Great Gatsby - that much is true, canon and real life. But the fact that his ability stems from capitalism, something explored upon in ‘The Great Gatsby’ hits the jackpot for me.

—-----------------------

Lies Told in April

by Cerueusnight

-

Spring comes bearing wealth

such as flowers and fruits.

Like children is to mothers,

it keeps on giving

until it gives no more.

-

Some claim to bless

and revael in joy,

soon winter will be over

and the sun will rise.

-

Birds learn how to fly,

animals sprout from their burrows,

and soon they will be gone,

as if, leaving home for the first time.

-

Yet they lie,

for a season that claims to give

it takes until there’s no more.

Warmth feels like frost,

snow never melts.

The sun sets further,

until orange fades into black.

-

One unbefitting of spring,

yet stays true to it’s name:

a season of darkness

to remind those who left again.

A number that adds,

losing it’s value,

birthdays left behind,

and parents griveing alone.

-

A house filled with laugther

is now filled with silence.

From unfinished paintings,

half scribbled walls,

toys tidely kept in a corner

in hopes they will untidy themselves.

-

Yet days turn into years

and nothing seems to change:

from unbothered rooms, a kitchen left clean

there’s no one around,

no one to cry, laugh, or smile

at least anymore.

-

Winter turns into spring.

Children’s clothes grow to dress,

suits, and ties.

One for their graduation,

coming of age,

weddings of the future,

yet, despite silent whimpers

it continues to grow.

-

From birth to death

of clothing that will never be worn

because their owner has left,

an owner no longer here.

My spring, my youth.

—---------------------------

A/N: This is just the surface of the iceberg to the tragedy in which bsd explores. Besides loss, the themes of parental figures and children are often brought up but never explored, so I hope I gave you another perspective.

Fitzgerald-Chuuya, A Spring Never Coming

Analysis: Spring May Never Come

Oneshot: Lies Told in April

[elvisabutler]

she’d like to cuddle up to me

fandom: austin butler | elvis ( 2022 )

rating: M, honestly y’all this is a lot of smut with a big plot. So minors, shoo shoo.

relationship: austin butler/reader, elvis/priscilla.

word count ( this part ): just shy of 6k. this is apparently war and peace. i don’t know. it’s eaten my brain.

warnings ( this part ): daddy kink, age difference ( austin is his normal age during the time frame of the fic, reader is almost a decade younger, no one is underage ), dom/sub, choking ( implied ), zipper riding ( not quite, but sort of ), oral ( f receiving ), public sex. multiple orgasms but maybe not quite overstimulation. close but not quite.

author notes: so. once again, you want a tag, message me, i’ll tag you. or leave a reply and tell me and i’ll add you. beyond that, thank you to my partner in crime with this fic @satninbeaulieu  and anyone else who has put up with me talking about this. also, this will probably make it’s way to ao3 at some point, don’t know when. maybe this week. we’ll see, my schedule always looks at my plans and laughs. also i hate the ending line of this, but i removed a chunk of this to save for next chapter or something later on. this was already too long, y’all. and not betaread because i live on the wild side.

this is part of the you read your lines so cleverly and never missed a cue series. specifically it’s the second. the first part is here.

The first thing you do when you get home is stalk Austin or more accurately you looked at a few- no more than 10- gossip blogs to try and check the status of Austin's relationship to Vanessa. It should worry you that your reaction upon reading that they broke up a couple months ago is sheer relief. Yes, maybe once upon a time the idea of being with a guy in a relationship didn’t phase you but you learned your lesson like a good girl and knew that you were better than being the side chick. You also knew that most of the time when you were the side chick it was because the guy was an asshole, but truth be told that was honestly most men. Maybe including Austin, but your mind hadn’t quite decided on him beyond being mildly mortified at what happened. 

You had expected to hear something from Baz sooner rather than later but it took a full week before you got the call with him telling you that you had gotten the part.You put the phone on mute before letting out a shout of victory before unmuting it again and telling him thank you as he told you he planned on the first table read being about a week from now. Thankfully you hadn’t made any plans, so it was no real problem. The call ended without too much fanfare beyond your initial excitement and within about 5 minutes your phone dinged with an email containing the script. If you happened to dance while printing it out in your apartment no one could judge you. 

The week long lead up to the table read had you trying to make arrangements to stay in Australia for the foreseeable future instead of your New York apartment. In between calls to iron out all your tiny details of getting most of your life transferred clear across the world you’d read the script. Everyone knew how Elvis’ story went so it’s not like anything in it was too new to you but you still found yourself enraptured enough that you audibly gasped while on the phone with someone causing them to have to ask if you were alright. Not your proudest moment.

Soon enough though you found yourself on a plane to Australia and in a car heading to the studio. You weren’t nervous before but the closer you got to the studio the more you felt your brain buzzing and your foot becoming jittery, tapping to an unknown rhythm. You took deep breaths, trying to steady yourself as you toyed with your ring. There was no need to be nervous. You had impressed Baz, you were a phenomenal actress. So what if Austin was going to be there and he had known you were going to be there before you did. So what? It was fine, it was going to be fine. 

“That’s Cilla. That’s my Priscilla.” You bit your lip remembering hearing that through the door before- you weren’t going to think about that, you were not going to think about being on your knees in front of him, being on your knees with his cock in your mouth. You most certainly were not going to think about how you might have thought about it more than once since then. 

This was going to be a problem, you already knew it which is what has you groaning into your hands as your uber driver pulls up to the studio to drop you off. “You going to be okay, ma’am?”

You look at him for a second before answering, moving your hand from your mouth. “Yeah, I’m going to be fine. I’ll tip you in the app, I totally don’t have any cash on me. Sorry.”

The driver shrugs. “It’s alright, you’re not in the US, not required but thank you.”

You hum as you exit the car and grab your bag, pulling down your dress as you did. The walk into the studio felt longer than you’d have liked it to, but you figure that was just because of your outfit and nervousness all balled into one tiny bit of stress for you. You’re early to the read and you’re expecting to have no one in the room when you arrive only to hear the one voice you were mildly dreading hearing.

“Y/N.” Austin says softly and a little breathlessly when he looks up at the noise of the door opening. Your heart skips a beat when you look up to see what he looks like. It’s not a Boho Elvis look this time. No, instead he went with something more put together, a simple white shirt half unbuttoned and black jacket with black slacks. Of course, the headband on his head and the glasses made it seem a little more soft, a little warmer and more gentle than it had any right to be. Truth be told, it had the tension leaving your body the longer you looked at him.

“Austin.” You smile slightly before giving him a little wave and tilting your head. “You’re here early.”

He laughs. “Yeah, if you ever meet Denzel Washington- promise, not trying to name drop, Dove- but if you ever meet him he’ll tell you it's a thing I do because I did it during Iceman Cometh. Started when my mom would drive me to auditions and now that I can drive myself around or call an Uber, it’s just stuck. Allows me to meditate on things. Focus myself.”

For not the first time since you did the chemistry read, you’re struck by how your brain just finds Austin fascinating. You have had one view of him and here he was turning it on its head- turning you on your head. It’s strange but you feel as if you might have found a fellow actor who might understand how you are. It’s method acting, but it’s not, it’s just allowing yourself to fall into a role and allow yourself to be in the moment as this person. And while you were running late according to your own time table, Austin and you were the only people there for the read. Even if you hadn't been on your knees for him not even two weeks prior, you’d have found his dedication a little attractive. 

“I get it, Austin.” You twirl your dove ring as you speak. “I do the same thing. Though I’m normally the first person in the room. Didn’t know I’d have competition. Especially since I wanted the seat you’re sitting in.”

“You could sit next to me.” He pats the seat next to him with a grin as his voice pitches down just a bit. “Gotta have my best girl by my side. My ‘Cilla.”

You don’t normally laugh very easily but the sincerity in his voice makes you chuckle as you walk to take the seat next to him. “Your ‘Cilla. Guess that makes you my Elvis.” You pause and sit down, making sure your dress doesn’t ride up as you do. “My King?”  

Austin’s eyes are focused on your thighs and your ass when you sit down and you notice but you choose not to comment just yet. He might have been able to be a dom but that look- no self respecting dom looks at you like that when you can make fun of it. He bites his lip and shakes his head. “Elvis hated that name, you know. Felt there was only one king and it wasn’t him. I have to agree with hating the name but that’s mostly because that’s not what I want you calling me.”

You raise an eyebrow at Austin, as you hear the door open another person coming in whose name you feel like you need to know but you haven’t met everyone yet so you suppose it can be forgiven. Your response is softer, more murmured so that they couldn’t hear you. “What is that supposed to mean? Do you have something else in mind, Mr. Butler?” 

You’re teasing and you know it. You’re being a brat and you know it. You are suddenly aware that you have no underwear because you forgot it in your rush to get out of your apartment early. You feel faintly like an idiot with this knowledge but your face does not betray any of these things, instead choosing to remain blank, looking at the door as another newcomer comes in. For his part Austin’s only reaction is a slow inhale and exhale before he speaks. “Well it’s not Mr. Butler if that’s what you think. Something that starts with a d.”

The first response that comes to you is dick followed closely by dumbass and then Daddy. Your tongue darts out to lick your lips as you decide to throw him a bone. “Dumbass? Duke? Daddy?”

At the last word, his arm migrates to the back of your chair and he pulls you in a little closer. “Third time’s the charm little dove.Though, dumbass? I’m hurt.” 

Despite your better judgment you shift a little closer to Austin, scooting your chair over just a hair. “That’s the least offensive name I could call you, Butler. It’s also true if you think I’m calling you Daddy. Remember, we had this conversation the last time. Was my blowjob that good that you forgot everything before it maybe a little after it?”

There’s supposed to be an undercurrent to your words, a teasing edge that you’re hoping he picks up on and doesn’t take the wrong way. It’s fun talking to him like this, teasing him as more people are walking in the door. You’re pretty sure they’re saving you from Austin or you doing something stupid. You glance at Austin through the corner of your eye only to see his pursed lips and a deeply unimpressed look at you. Your brain is wondering how you could have misread him when you recognize that look, that look means you're in a lot of trouble. You find that it's a little exciting. 

"Did you forget that you called me daddy multiple times already, little dove? For someone who keeps saying they don't want to call me that, it rolls off your tongue beautifully." He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Say it with me, 'Daddy, I'm sorry I came just from sucking you off and didn't listen when you said not to touch last time. I can be good, Daddy.':

You shiver as your shoulder moves up in an attempt to push Austin away from your ear. Your legs open up just a hair under your dress and you had hoped Austin wouldn’t notice before you heard what sounds like a slight pleased hum. This was unfair. You wanted the upper hand, you should have the upper hand because he’s still just begging you to call him Daddy and you won’t. You hear the door open again and hear Baz’s voice amongst what feels like twenty others and you realize that thank God it’s everyone else. You have an excuse to shoot down Austin. “Say it with me, Daddy. You’re not my dom and you’re not my Daddy, so if I wanted to come just from sucking you off I can. No permission needed. Besides, you weren’t about to give me what I wanted. Someone had to.”

Austin’s eyes narrow and he actually pulls away to allow himself to look at you straight on, his hand moving up like he’s going to grab your chin before stopping himself as he hears Baz say his name. 

“There’s my leads! Our Elvis and Priscilla, everyone!” Austin and you tear your gazes from each other and offer almost identical shy waves to everyone.

Everyone introduces themselves around the table and you all settle in for the table read. Your foot’s started to jiggle again under the table, occasionally hitting your chair and occasionally hitting Austin’s chair. You don’t mean to, but you’re more nervous than you have been in quite a long time. In fact, you’re pretty sure the last time you were this nervous was your first big acting job. It’s embarrassing because you all haven’t even gotten to your first line and there was Austin next to you acting completely normal. Except you can see how the hand that’s closest to your leg, the one that’s on the side of the chair is shaking just a little bit. Maybe you weren’t the only one who was nervous. Hell, at least Austin had a better standing than you did, he was responsible for this movie doing well, he was going to be The Elvis Presley. Yes, you were Priscilla Presley but without him, without him nailing Elvis correctly the rest of you could be perfect and you lose the film. 

The longer you stare at his shaking hand the worse your shaking foot gets to the point where you end up kicking Austin’s shin. It’s not during one of his lines but he still ends up hissing and gaining the attention of everyone else.

He waves them off with his steady hand. “It’s fine, hit my shin on the chair.” And that’s that until he looks at you again with a questioning look. His hand is still shaking and you finally give into a desire to just grab it- to hold it in your own. He doesn’t stop you, instead allowing you to squeeze his hand and you swear you can feel the tension leaving his body. Leaving his hand at the very least and he looks- well he looks relieved. You stare at your hand holding his for longer than you probably should before he takes the time to shift the position a little, interlocking your fingers and setting them down on the side of the chair. He doesn’t let go and neither do you until it’s time for Priscilla and Elvis to meet. You pull your hand, knowing fully well that you end up using your hands when you read these lines no matter what and you aren’t about to stop now to attempt to reassure and comfort Austin. He doesn’t look like he minds, though, partially because he’s not supposed to as he reads the lines, but you can see that his reaction isn’t entirely just Elvis talking to Priscilla, it’s him watching you perform the same you had for the chemistry read. 

Baz starts to explain about this montage he has planned right after this scene in the script and while it’s important for Tom to pay attention, it’s not explicitly important for the two of you right in the moment. It’s for that reason, you figure that Austin’s arm snakes around you once again, pulling your chair closer and making it so your legs are touching. You curl a little into him as much as you can while still remaining in your own chair. You should be prepared to hear him speak but it still startles you hearing his voice murmuring in your ear once again.

“You didn’t ask me, Y/N. I don’t just take from people. I give back as much as they deserve. And I think you deserve a lot more than you let people give.” His hand moves to hold your knee. For the first time since you sat down and started this table read, your foot stops moving, stops shaking and you feel grounded. Oh no. This is a problem. This is a good thing but it is a problem you cannot entertain. 

“What I deserve does not concern you, Austin. That was a one time thing. Consider it a sub helping a fellow sub. Switch. Whatever you are for whoever.” You pause, making sure to listen in on what Baz is saying. “Seriously, though, what are you? Because I've been reading you as a maybe a sub since you were-"

"Staring at you but not touching? Didn't realize appreciating the prettiest little dove I had seen that day made me a sub. What would have made me a dom? Flipping that short skirt you had up?" Austin asks, his hand still resting on your knee. "You've never had any of them pant after you, have you?"

You clench your thighs together, waiting to see what he's going to do with his hand. "Considering I like fucking men and not hound dogs, no, I can't say I have. Are you going to tell me you panted after Vanessa? Acted like her good little boy, pleasing Mami when she snapped her fingers?"

"Mmhmm. Open those legs for Daddy, Little Dove. Don't be this mouthy and that shy." He murmurs with a smirk as several people slowly come into the room. They’re not late, they just didn’t need to be here at the time. "Papi gave his little Nessa whatever she wanted. Even when she was mouthy just like you're being because at the end of the day she was a good girl." Your legs fall open just enough for him to sneak his hand up them. He pauses, his jaw tensing and eyes going just a bit wider as he moves his thumb in just a way that it brushes your clit and getting just enough of your juices on it to allow it to glisten when he pulls it out from under your skirt. He puts it up to his lip and licks. "You don't even realize what you do to Daddy, do you?"

You are aware of two things at this exact moment, one, you were wet which you hadn't quite realized before and two, you wanted Austin's hand between your legs right now. A fact that you swear you have just telepathically sent to him from how his hand just slinks back down to your thighs and then up to your core. He sticks just a single finger before you manage to speak. 

"I don't. I'm thinking I make him so horny he can barely see straight but-" You take a deep breath and look down at his lap. "I may be wrong. I can’t really see anything in your pants. And you actually have a bit of a poker face right now.”

There is the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips before he curls his finger, looking over at everyone else. “All good doms should, Little Dove. But do you want to know? Does my good girl want to know what she’s doing to me?”

Your eyes flutter a little at the mention of being a good girl and at his curled finger, you hadn’t done anything to deserve that, you were being a brat and yet he was telling you that you were a good girl. Oh, you could get used to that. You manage a short breath. “Was I right, Austin? Was my guess right?”

"I mean, I can see straight but- I am turned on. I could still get up without too much of a problem. But yes, Little Dove, you guessed right. You did good on your guess." He has his thumb just rub circles around your clit, watching your face to see your reaction trying to see exactly what gets you going, adjusting his motions as he saw what did and didn't work. “Soaked and I’ve barely touched you, such a sensitive and needy Dove falling into my lap. It’s not even my birthdays.”

He doesn't move his hand or stop what he's doing when it comes time for him to continue reading the lines. You’re focusing on his voice and saying your lines when they pop up but you can feel your head getting fuzzy. It’s almost as if you’re floating and you intellectually know what that means, you know you’re sliding way too dangerously to your subspace but you’re not a hundred percent sure you can pull yourself back. Austin’s voice just keeps murmuring what you think are praises and you can feel his hand moving from under your dress and you almost make a noise before you feel his hand move to your back in an attempt to steady you. The feel of his hand pulls you back down a little, allowing you to blink slowly before looking at him. Baz is reading the description of the scene, you think it’s the beginning of the 68 special but you don’t know for sure. You can see Austin’s mouth moving, mouthing words and you open your mouth to say something before he shakes his head slightly. 

“Little Dove, come back to Daddy. I know you want to come apart for me, I know and I want to see how gorgeous you look when you do, but Little Dove, we’re at the table read. We’re in public, you’re a professional, you don’t want to show them this. It’s not for them to see. It’s just for us. Be a good girl, be the good girl I know you are and wait, okay?” Austin whispers in your ear, the rings on his fingers pressing into your back, grounding you even further. You’re coming back down, you can focus on everyone else, you can focus on his voice. You’re a good girl, not a brat, Daddy is calling you a good girl. “Y/N?”

Austin is saying your name. You swallow, turning to focus on his eyes. “I can be a good girl, I can be your good Little Dove. Promise me we can later, Dad-” You stop suddenly, your mind crashing back to Earth in a heartbeat. Austin is not Daddy, you were about to call him Daddy. “Austin.” His name comes out in a puff of air as you freeze and just look around at everyone trying to make sure no one saw the two of you or at the very least saw how you were reacting. 

“There you are, Y/N.” Austin smiles softly before he pulls his hand off of your back and grabs your hand with your dove ring, allowing himself to play with it a little. “You alright?”

You shake your head no, not trusting the word coming out of your mouth before you take a few shaky breaths. “Don’t do that again.”

His eyes narrow for a moment as he reads his lines, unable to respond beyond a quick squeeze of your hand. In fact it goes like that for a while until they reach where Austin is supposed to be singing Suspicious Minds while the Colonel essentially signs his life away. This isn’t rehearsal so it doesn’t matter if he sings or not which allows him to actually be able to squeeze your hand again, trying to get your attention. 

“Your hands are huge, you know that?” You say offhandedly having a brief flash of an image of them against your throat before you hum. “What?”

“Did you mean to never do that again or just don’t do it right now?” He asks with a slight smile on his face at the comment about his hands. “I don’t want to- I don’t want to make you uncomfortable if you don’t like that. Or if you can't stand being in the space-"

You stop him with a very deliberate tap to the palm of his hand. Just one, but you know he knows what it means. You wait to see his shoulders relax before you answer fully with actual words. "Right now. I'm a professional. We are professionals."

It's definitely a bad idea to be entertaining this and you should tell him never again but honestly your curiosity had been piqued enough that you actually want to see where this is going to go to a point, it wouldn't be the first or the last time you've made an interesting decision that wasn't perhaps the wisest. 

Austin looks pensive for a moment, as if he's having to repeat those words to himself or just remind himself like he hadn’t told you that exact line not even an hour ago. He opens his mouth to speak and stops, choosing to worry at his lower lip until he manages to, you suppose, collect his thoughts. “Professionals. About to embark on potentially career defining roles.”

You nod. “Yeah. So, not right now. This exact moment when I’ve got an actor and director we’ve grown up knowing and being deeply impressed with across the room from me. Well, maybe you weren’t impressed by Baz, but Moulin Rouge and Romeo + Juliet were my comfort movies as a teenager.”

“Not anymore?” He questions, allowing his shoulders to relax and allowing himself to lean back in the chair. He lets go of your hand and allows his arm to just drape itself across the back of your chair. 

“Not anymore.” You lean back in your own chair, almost seeking out the warmth of his hand and arm as if you could feel it through the chair. “I grew up. I think the last time I watched it I was 17, 18, maybe?”

Austin just hums at your answer before focusing on the table read again, after all you are professionals. You choose that moment to grab his hand and pull it forward enough that his arm isn’t just around your chair and is instead is around your shoulders. You shiver slightly despite how warm you feel. 

The rest of the read goes fine, you think, though you can’t help the way you actually sob reading Priscilla leaving Elvis and when she asks him to go to rehab for Lisa. You think she wanted him to go for her too, despite the fact that she had moved on from him as far as a relationship went. You don’t stop caring for someone you love like that and from what you’ve seen despite their relationship being what it was- she still loves him. Austin grabs you a tissue or two and you see him make an aborted move to tell you to blow your nose before he pulls back and hands you the tissues. Overall, you feel good, you feel like this is going to be the thing that catapults everyone who isn’t already a name into some form of stardom and it makes you grin as you clap with everyone around the table. You’re so enraptured with looking at everyone else that you nearly miss Austin tapping your shoulder as he stands up.

"You vape?" He asks, looking down at you in the chair with his hand firmly on your shoulder. 

You don’t, but that’s not the point because when you look up and see Austin’s eyes, you note that the pupils look a little blown and– well you had said, not right now. Apparently he wasted no time in thinking not right now meant wait until the table read. There’s a thought to say no, to tell him that you’re going to go talk to Darce or Luke or Kelvin but your body decides to answer for you, shivering not because of the cold but because of his grip on your shoulder. “Sure.” 

Austin doesn’t waste a single second before he’s reaching out for your hand and pulling you up out of the chair and tucking you under his arm as he leads you out of the room. You faintly hear what you’re pretty sure is a collection of every person in the room with maybe Luke or Kelvin being the loudest saying something about ‘there goes Elvis and Priscilla’ as you leave the room. You feel embarrassed for a brief moment before Austin kisses the top of your head almost in reassurance. You’re shorter than Austin and he is walking so fast to get out of the building that you’re not a hundred percent sure how you keep up with him but in what feels like a flash you’re outside by what you’re assuming is his car. 

You’re about to say something about how the car is a little dusty when Austin just practically pushes you against the car, his mouth against yours as if he’s going to devour you and like he’ll die if he doesn’t feel your lips against his. It startles you for a moment with its intensity but after that moment you respond in kind, your tongue meeting his and your arms wrapping around his neck to try and force him to give you some leverage. He catches the hint pretty quick and you make a noise as you feel his hands on your thighs, lifting you up and allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist. You don’t break the kiss, choosing to nip at his lips that you kept seeing him bite as he took a moment to suck at your tongue. It shouldn’t be hot, it’s messy and you can feel spit getting everywhere but you feel as if he’s setting you on fire with his lips. Soon you both need air though and you pull away first, whimpering a little as you do before resting your forehead against his, your chest heaving trying to catch your breath that you swear he’s stealing as he tries to catch his own. You hear a beep and somehow Austin is managing to open up the door to his car without dropping you. 

“I gotta put you down Little Dove. I can’t get in the car holding you like this- just- Let me get in and-” He pauses, making sure you’re looking at him before he continues. “Sit on my face.”

Your brain almost immediately whites out at the idea before you drag yourself back to reality and nod. “Get in the car then, Austin.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, his lanky frame easily sliding into the car and moving his seat back before you’re on him in a flash, lifting up your dress just enough that he can just see your cunt glistening in the daylight before he’s hidden by the fabric. His tongue licks a stripe up your slit before you feel his fingers opening you up just enough that his tongue can gain access to your cunt. You want to feel his lips around your clit but you’re finding the sensation of his tongue flicking in and out of your cunt enough that you find your hands reaching for the upholstery in his car, grasping it and trying not to scratch it. You still do the second you feel the electric shock of his teeth grazing your clit and- it’s then that you start to find yourself floating again. You should trust Austin to let you fall, you’re in public and you can see Baz Luhrmann’s goddamn car next to you, but your body won’t listen. Your brain is literally just shutting off at the feel of Austin’s fingers and of his tongue against your folds. You try and warn him that you’re coming embarrassingly quickly but all that comes out is a low moan of his name and daddy one right after the other. 

He taps your thigh three times before you find that you have enough energy to move, your boots getting stuck on the center console before you settle into his lap, slowly moving just a little not quite grinding but still wanting a little bit of friction. Austin manages to pull his seat back up and stares at your lips before starting to kiss you again. It’s not nearly as rushed as it was outside the car but it’s still making that feeling of floating get worse and worse. You taste yourself on him and you realize this is the first time someone has eaten you out and then made out with you. It sends a thrill through your body and you find that you like it. You find that you like it enough that you start to grind on Austin’s lap and there’s a part of you that feels a weird bit of cold against your clit that you think is his zipper, but you don’t stop, instead choosing to just go with how it feels. A fact that you’re gonna ruminate on later, probably. 

You hear Austin groaning lowly and what you swear is a growl before you feel his hands- his stupidly large hands- lifting you up off his lap and you whine. You’re out of it, fully spaced out and you can’t register anything beyond Daddy- Austin- this stupid dom who doesn’t look like one and doesn’t act like one and just slid under your radar, taking you off his lap. You try and squirm enough that you can go back to grinding but Austin’s hand slides up to the back of your neck and you hiss not unlike a kitten. “Baby. That’s enough. Come back here.” You blink, eyes unfocused and your mouth open as you try and take deep breaths. His hand moves from the back of your neck to your cheek and strokes it. “Hey, come on. Focus baby.” 

It’s hard but your brain forces you to zone in on his face. “Daddy.”

He ends up smirking before shaking his head. “What’s my name, Little Dove. You’re gonna hate that you called me that.”

“Austin.” Your answer comes in a whisper as the shame overwhelms you for a moment, you’re in public, you’re spaced out on Austin’s lap. You had known you were a little desperate for touch like this but not- you didn’t realize you had gotten so bad. He smiles and your heart skips a beat. You don’t know if he smiled because you used his name or because you had done what you were supposed to. You’re not sure you care either way. 

“Good girl. Listen, you’ve got to stop that. We’ve only got an hour for lunch, maybe an hour and ten since I vape. I can’t fuck you right now. Just calm down and let Daddy, let me kiss on you for a bit. We don’t want you rubbing yourself raw on my zipper.” He murmurs, moving to kiss at your neck.

Your head lulls a little to the side and your eyes are still a little glassy before you find the words to speak as you push his mouth away. He needs to hear what you want to say. Your eyes settle on his clothed cock as you nod before you notice that you’re pretty sure his pants have a wet spot that’s your own juices. “What if I want to? What if I want to rub-” You pause, you don’t, or at least you’re not sure if you want to rub yourself raw on his zipper. “You’ve already kissed on me, Austin. Probably too much. I should get out of the car.”

You have yet to see Austin be offended by anything, but that sentence, you saying probably too much has him looking so offended that your first instinct is to both apologize and ask what the hell was so wrong with what you said. He bites his lip once, twice, before saying anything. “Oh, Y/N, Little Dove, your daddy’s barely been kissing you. Who’s been taking such bad care of you that you don’t even see that? That you’re this needy. Let daddy make a deal with you?”

Your brain is processing more of the words he says faster and you find yourself pursing your lips as you nuzzle at his neck. “Depends.”

He chuckles and you can feel the vibrations against your lips. “There’s my Dove coming back down. Let Daddy kiss on you a bit more and you can ride his hand?”

“I- I don’t know if I can handle an hour of just your hand, but- sure- yeah.” You pause and focus on saying Austin’s name. “Austin.”

He smirks before he moves his hand down between your legs, his fingers curling earning a groan from you as your forehead hits the headrest behind him. “You can.” 

As it turns out, you could, just barely.

Taglist: @satninbeaulieu @she-is-juniper @floralcyanide @butlerstyles i am probably missing someone but i don’t know. it’s late.

[plush-rabbit]

The Brothers + Diavolo Making You Flustered

Request: Hi!hi! The aphrodisiac writing was absolutely *chefs kiss*. I have this habit of when I get embarrassed/flustered I immediately bury my face into the surface in front of me. Like if I’m sitting on the floor I’ll lean over and bury my face on the carpet, sitting at a table I’ll lean over and plant my face on the surface etc. How do you think the brothers (+diavolo if that’s okay) would react to seeing MC do that for the first time when they make them flustered? You’re so talented by the way! ily!

Word Count: 1K each

A/N: I hope you like this!! It was a bit difficult since i didn't want to make everything the same, but yeah!!

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Lucifer:

His sleeves are rolled up, flour coating the tips of his fingers and dusting across his apron, and the smell of garlic and onion fills the room. It smells lovely, it smells like a home. You stand beside Lucifer, watching as the water boils, bubbles fizzling out and steam rising. A box of noodles is held in your hands, your eyes peering over to where the bread is held in his hands. Your tongue peeks between your lips- it’s a soft pink, tinged with blue from candy and for a moment, he forgets himself, wanting to taste the candy that rests on your tongue, wishing that he were your lips to feel the gentle caress of your tongue.

“Remind me what we’re making again?” You ask, sniffing at the pot, only to scrunch your nose at the scent. “And why it’s us making it?”

“A Devildom dish,” he responds, giving a side glance. “It’s similar enough to a human cousine, so you needn’t worry about it being anything unsavory.” He turns to you, his smile almost teasing. “And we’re making it because it’s our turn on cooking duty.”

“If you wanted to spend time with me, you could always ask.” While your words are true, he tries to hold his composure, not wanting to reveal that you had hit the nail on its head. “You don’t have to assign us both to cooking duty. It’s pretty sneaky for you, dear Lucifer.” Your hand pats at his back and he promptly turns away from you

Walking away from you, he starts the timer on the oven, the preheat button lights up as the oven begins to glow. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I drew our names on a complete random.” He turns to you, his smile making you unable to see what he’s really thinking. “Do you not wish to spend time with me?” he asks cooly, walking towards you. Despite the flour on his hands that dusts over his face, and the apron wrapped around him, he still holds an aura of confidence and authority that makes you break away from his gaze first.

“You’re absolutely awful,” you mutter, giving him a grin to let him know that it was a playful insult.

“And yet, you’re still here,” he coos, his grin wicked and cool at the same time. “I must not be totally awful if you still wish to spend time with me.” You groan, shaking your head with a smile on your lips and he turns to hide his more giddy smile, smiling calmly when the oven beeps. The preheat session is done. He opens the oven, a wave of hot air making him knit his brows together for a moment. “There’s no need to be ashamed of being so fond of me. I am Pride, it’s only natural that you would gravitate towards me.” He grabs the rack of bread, carefully slipping it inside the oven and closing the door.

“Well you’re a lot more than Pride to me.” His eyes widen and he turns to you, his body facing towards the oven with his head half-turned. “You’re Lucifer. You’re someone close to me and well, I actually am glad that we got to spend time together. I would love to hear you admit that you simply wanted to spend time with me, but-” you shrug- “you’ve got that stubborn pride that I can’t help but adore.” You turn to him, a cheeky smile on your face that matches the light in your eyes.

It’s silent between the two of you. It’s comforting, one that is welcomed and isn’t making either of you awkward. He watches as you carefully stir the pot, your index skimming under the words of the cookbook. Your brows furrow as you carefully read over the direction, careful to not add the wrong ingredient or wrong measurement. You’re methodical, carefully going about everything, and in the kitchen with Lucifer, he can’t help but smile at you, his smile soft and eyes crinkled as he watches you carefully.

“I know I haven’t told you this enough- or perhaps before-” silverware clinks together as he reaches over from a baking brush, his eyes never leaving yours- “but I’m actually quite proud of you.” He tears his gaze away from you, his smile widening and his chest puffing. “You have this knack about you that makes it so easy for others to fall for you, that I have to admit that even I have fallen victim to you.” The baguettes are painted over with a mixture of garlic and spices, his words never stopping or falling to hesitation as he speaks. “You’re-” he sighs, not knowing how to put what he wants to say into words- “I’ve been Lucifer for such a long time, living and holding power, but I must say, when I’m around you, I feel more me than I ever had in my entire existence.” He turns his body to you, his hands open and knuckles brushing over your cheek, a thin line of white left against your face. “I’m glad that I’ve gotten to meet you.”

His eyes widen, his words finally registering to his ears. He looks up, eyes meeting the stone wall before he turns to you, his mouth agape and hands still holding a baguette, and the baking brush. The garlic and onion sizzle on the stove, the yellow glow of the kitchen and the buzzing sounds of the outside do everything to fill the room, not a single ounce of silence is graced to either of you.

“You can’t just say stuff like that!” You say in a hurried tone, your face hot enough that you can feel sweat start to bead. “It’s- It’s-” you can’t find the proper words, it isn’t embarrassing but it isn’t something that you hear everyday- “Ah!” You decided, burying your face further into the table, your hands cushioning the blow.

His hand claps over your back, slowly rubbing between your shoulder blades in an attempt to soothe you over. “I would have thought you would have enjoyed hearing the truth,” he teases lightly. “Was I wrong about that assumption?” he presses, his elbow nudging against your shoulder where you still lay with your head rested in your hands.

You peer upwards, your face slowly revealed to show a flushed color that makes his chest puff with pride, his smile . “You wanna know why I know that you wanted to spend time with me?” Lucifer raises his brows in confusion. “I hadn’t written down my name yet.” His smile twitches away for a moment. “You called it before I could even write my name down.” You smile at him, your smile gentle. “I still have the paper in my pocket. You really like me, huh Lucifer?”

Mammon:

Textbooks are left open, pencils and pens sprawled over the coffee table as you and Mammon rest on the couch. He talks vividly, and as he’s excited to tell you stories of his past, his mouth works faster, skipping over details and returning to them moments later. Your hands are wrapped tight around his bicep, your face hidden as you try to stifle your laughter. He can feel your hands tighten, the way that you cling to him and even try to push yourself closer to him. “So that was when I decided to just grab all the things I could carry and just book it!” Mammon exclaims, clapping his hands together and extending his right arm forward. “You should’ve seen how angry those witches were, but hell, they deserved it for thinking they could pull one over on me.” He turns to you, his grin wicked, slowly widening as he leans back cautiously to not let you move away from him. “Fuckers should’ve known to not touch my stuff.”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head and leaning onto him. His smile twitches for a second, softening into a gentler smile, watching as you turn your face into his arm, trying to stifle your laughter. It’s loud, infectious and it’s something that reminds him of a spring day that he once spent in the Human Realm. He isn’t sure how to explain it- something about it that screams life and youth, something that sounds so unapologetically like you, that it makes him breathless. When you start to pull away, he lets his grin widen, eager to look at you again.

He’s so close to you, your hand within arm’s reach that if he really wanted to, he could just take it in his. His mouth goes dry, his tongue too invasive in his own mouth and he watches as you adjust your hair, his eyes fixated on how your hair slips through your fingers. There are words stuck in his throat, but no matter what he thinks of to say, he isn’t sure what he should say. He’s at a loss, wondering what would be the perfect way to bring back the mood, to continue the conversation without it being forced, but in all honesty, he’s fine, just sitting here with you. He’s more than fine with just staring at you.

“Hey, Mammon?” He jolts at his name being said, a shock running through his spine. He nods his head, swallowing what little saliva is in his mouth. “I really like hearing your stories, you know?” You smile softly at the book in your hands. He watches you with unblinking eyes, wondering what it is that you’re getting at. “I really just like listening to your voice. I know you were stuck with me at first-” internally he flinches, he doesn’t like to reminisce when you were first put under his charge- “but I’m glad that it was you.” He is left breathless, his muscles tense as you look at him, a smile stretching past your lips and gracing your lips. You look at him for a moment, your eyes darting to where his hand is clenched tightly and you nod to yourself, turning your attention back to the book.

You’re facing away from him, your fingertips tracing over the edge of a page as you try to focus on the words but he can tell from the pout on your lips that you aren’t registering anything from the book. What should he say? What can he say? He knows he has to say something. He knows that he should match your energy or at least attempt to but he can’t. There are so many things he wants to tell you, and they all seem so disorganized. You’re pretty. You’re nice to him and you always let him sneak into your bedroom late at night. You rely on him and as much as you need him, he needs you more. You have such a soft touch that it leaves him tingling all over as if some ghost were the one responsible for it. He lets out a slow breath, his lips parted slightly as he breathes out. “You know,” he says quietly, his fingers twitching and moving to clutch at the end of your shirt, “you got a real nice laugh. It’s nice to spend time with you, ya know?” Once he’s started talking, he’s unable to quiet himself, unable to register the things that he’s saying to you. “I like hanging out with other demons and all, but there’s something about you that I like more. It’s like with you-” his hand waves in the air, eyes glancing around your room- “I get to just feel safe. I get to relax and know that I can count on you. And I want you to know that no matter what, I’ll always be on your side. Forever and ever.” Mammon turns his head, his smile stretched wide and hand going to cover yours. “You turned me into a sap, ya know?’”

The moment is tender as he smiles down at you, only to slowly realize the weight of his words as you stop in your movements, your fingers letting the page fall back to the others, words lost upon themselves as your shoulders rise. His eyes widen and his lips thin. Heat creeps upwards from his chest and scorches its way to mar his features, his face turning into a darker shade as he flushes. His mouth goes dry, unable to produce any type of saliva as he sits beside you. Slowly, his mouth parts, and he’s unable to find the words to deny what he just said, but before he can, you curl in on yourself, burying your way into your hands, your hands spread and fingers parting to cover as much of your face as it can.

“I-” he coughs loudly into the rook of his elbow. You can tell that he wants to resort to his usual denial of feelings but he stops himself before he can even reach the middle of his sentence. “Listen, just because you-” you can feel his eyes on you- “will ya look up at me? I’m not gonna tear your head off or anything, I just don’t want you getting a bigger head than you already have.” You slowly turn to him, watching as he tries to avoid your gaze. “Let’s just go get a bite to eat. We can’t study on empty stomachs or whatever.” He rises quickly, his hand held out to you as he keeps his attention out on the door. “Come on, I’ll pay for ya and everything.”

Your lips thin and you look at his hand. You inhale a sharp breath of air, slowly letting it go. His face is still flushed, a deep color that burns against his skin. “Like a date?” You ask, hoping to see more of his reactions. He stiffens at your question, his brows furrowing to meet each other. He stammers out a response, clearly flustered. You lay your hand on his and he immediately quiets down. You smile at yourself, your heart skipping a beat as you realize that it was you who brought him to such a state. Slowly, his hand curls with yours and he gives a brief nod of his head.

Leviathan:

Leviathan sits alone in his room, a blanket pooled around his lower half, his eyes have begun to burn, tinged with red from lack of sleep as bright colors flash across his pale face. An empty bowl save for kernels that rest at the bottom of the bowl, his fingertips tinged with red and he can feel his mouth heavy with acid and past snacks.

His hands tap against his controller, his fingers already reaching toward a button before he can even register what he should press. His mind is on autopilot, reaching and stiffening when an enemy nears and even so, his character is still killed. He lets out a frustrated groan, careful to throw his controller towards his pillows and not the walls- he can’t risk losing yet another controller; least of all having to patch a hole- or in his case, covering it with a poster. His hands are thrown into the air, fingers outstretched before they are curled into a fist. He arches his back forward, the heels of his hands cushioning his eyes. He tears up slightly, wincing at the sudden realization of burning pain that lingers in his eyes. Slowly, he pulls away just in time to hear his door creak open.

“Password,” he says with a lack of conviction, turning slightly to watch as you enter with a bag in your hand. He raises his brows, his arm stretching outward as he blindly searches for his controller. “What do you have there?” He jerks his chin, returning his attention to the game in front of him.

The light clicks on- something bright that fills the room in a soft blue that stretches around him. He winces at the sudden light, the controller dropped onto his lap as he rubs his eyes vigorously. If it weren’t obvious enough that he kept himself secluded in his room, it was obvious from the way that he rubbed at his eyes, and had to blink multiple times before he could finally look at you without shielding his eyes. You end him a wicked smile that slowly grows until you reveal your teeth, the bag in your hand held slightly tighter. In response, he sticks his tongue out at you, his cheeks tinted with a pale shade of pink.

“I’m surprised it’s taken you so long to defeat the boss,” you say, walking towards the bathtub where he sits. You sit in front of the porcelain, your gaze fixated on a television system that he has set up for a more immersive gameplay experience. When you are met with a lack of response, you turn your head to see him with narrowed eyes. “What? No witty remark?” Once more, you’re met with silence. “Levi?”

He sucks in a sharp breath. “I- Fuck, you know?” This time, he’s met with silence. “First, I can’t get the concert tickets, then I can’t even get the new figure and now, I can’t even defeat this stupid game.” His cheeks fill with air, and he slowly lets the breath go past his lips. “And the concert was going to have passes to meet them behind the stage and the figure was signed and-” his character dies once more and the controller is tossed pitifully onto the pillow. He leans over the tub, his arms crossed under his chin, and his eyes on you. “My luck isn’t usually so bad, you know?”

You pat the floor beside you, your hand meeting the cold tile. “Come on, sit beside me,” you comment, shuffling over a few inches to give him even more space. With a huff, he rises out of the tub, small bits of crumbs falling onto the porcelain. He sits beside you, his arm brushing against yours but neither of you make an effort to move.

“I’m sitting, now what?” He asks, the television blurry as it replays his death with the words “Game Over” in bold letters.

“Well, Levi-” you hand him the bag, with fingers pinched over the handles- “since you’re having such rotten luck, why don’t you open the bag?”

He gives you a narrowed stare, slowly retrieving the bag from you and pulling out the pastel colored tissue paper. At the bottom of the bag sits a box, the words of a favorite anime of his stamped beside with the usual font. His heart skips a beat, as he slowly clasps his hand around the box, his fingers pushing against the plastic and he gaps, reality crashing onto him like a wave.

“It’s-” he doesn’t even finish saying the sentence, your nod is an answer to everything. “The figure that I wanted- I- How?” He asks, looking at the box, so worried that if he were to take his eyes away, the box would vanish.

“Ah, ah-” you wag your finger in the air- “that is a story for another time, my dear Leviathan.” You sound so smug and a smile is already evident in your words.

He bounces in his seat, his legs shaking rapidly, knees softly knocking against each other as he lets his excitement show. His hands flap eagerly, his smile wide and eyes closed. A sharp breath is sucked between his teeth, as he stares at you with bright eyes. You’re startled, your shoulders raising a few centimeters into the air with wide eyes as you stare at him. A nervous smile stretches across your face with him so close to you and looking at you with such eager eyes. If you were to be honest with yourself, you’re a bit flustered with how he looks at you. Your heart races and it beats against your chest, rattling at your ribs and echoing against your body. You nod rapidly, gulping what little moisture you have in your mouth when he grabs your hands tightly in him.

He shouts your name, enthusiasm laced into his word, his hands pulling yours close to his chest. “Ah! You’re the absolute best!” His smile is so wide that it’s almost comical, leaving you smiling both in response to and because of him. “I’m so glad that you’re here! Of course, you’d be my Henry!” He drops your hands and pulls you in for a hug, squeezing tightly around you, his head nuzzled into the curve of your neck. “I don’t know what I would do without you, but I’m just glad that you’re the one that’s with me!” He pulls away, his hands now holding onto your biceps. Deep breaths exhale through him, his chest rising and dipping rhythmically. He calls your name and it’s sweet like honey on his tongue. “You really are the best. I mean,” his tone becomes softer, his smile less eager and more true, “you do so much for me. I couldn't ever imagine my life without you. You mean so much to me.”

“Levi,” you mumble, and when his hands fall from you and return to hold the box, you pull the bag towards your face, hiding away from him. Your neck grows hot, scorching your skin and making you breathless. “I’m glad that you like it,” you manage to squeak out, the bag further pressed towards you.

A few seconds pass until he finally realizes why you’ve pulled the bag to your face. Leviathan stiffens, clearing his throat and turning away, his hand covering his lower half of the face. The figurine sits beside him with a delicate smile plastered on their face. With the air so light and heavy, he reached into the tub, eager to pull out the controller. With a meek cough, he fumbles with the controller, passing it over to you, with his eyes still glued on the figurine. “Would you like a turn? Maybe you’re better than me.” He can feel his chest tighten when his fingertips brush against yours and the hundredth time, the game tune plays in the room.

Satan:

Satan’s eyes narrow unconsciously as he reads over the same page for the tenth time. No matter what, he is unable to focus on the words, the letters and lines meshing into one that nothing fully registers past the first word of the page. If he were to be honest with himself, nothing has registered since the last few pages that he’s read. With a huff, he closes the book, a small gust of air blowing at the hair that rests over his forehead. The book rests on the table beside him, nudging against the lamp that makes the room flicker for a brief moment.

The room is filled with sound, the hum of the air conditioner unit, the distant sounds of footsteps and talk across the house, the demonic animals that roam around outside. He’s sure that if he were to focus, he’d even hear the scratching of a pen. Scratch that- he can now that he thought about it. All the sounds make his skin crawl, uncomfortable and itchy and as he drags his nails across his arm, he’s only offered a second of relief before the feeling returns. He leans against the chair, his neck arched over the back of it, as he lets his eyes flutter to a close, the bright light of the library barely shining through his closed eyelids. It’s not like to be so distracted- especially when it comes to a favorite pastime of his. And yet, his mind is distracted, wandering to images of you where you were talking to others that weren’t him. He isn’t the jealous type- at least, not when he compares himself to his brother, but it seems that you brought out something different for him.

His leg twitches and there’s a burning sensation on his arm that he chooses to ignore. It only intensifies when he hears footsteps approaching. The sensation spreads and becomes sharper, insatiable as it burrows itself in the demon. There is a presence standing beside him and he already knows that it’s you. He can tell by the steps, by the breathing, by your scent. He frowns at the thought. He doesn’t know if it’s romantic or not to know such small details about you.

Something clicks- your knee, perhaps- and your hand rests above his slender one, cupping and still, there are gaps where his skin is unfortunate enough to not to be touched by you. “Satan?” You call out to him in a quiet voice- not quite a whisper but not your usual volume either. “Are you asleep?”

“Is it you wondering or someone else?” He responds, slowly opening his eyes and turning his head, meeting the top of yours. “Is there something that you need?” He makes no effort to move, stuck in his position as he is content just sitting on a chair with your hand over his.

“It’s me,” you answer him, turning your head to meet his eyes. His lips slowly turn into a smile with his eyes slowly growing heavy. “You don’t normally sleep in the library without cause. You okay?” Your hand slips from his and his eyes widen his hand closing into a fist, already missing your touch. But, he is soon reconnected with your hand as it rests on his forehead. You soon look down at him with pursed lips. “I- uh, I can’t tell if you have a fever or not.”

He smiles at you and sits up straight, holding in a moan when his back is already sore, feeling the muscles whine as they had already grown taut. “No- No I just, I have quite a few things on my mind, is all.” He gingerly goes to grab your hand in his, uncaring that your eyes are on him and that the door is open for anyone to walk in and see Wrath so tender. “I’m sorry that I worried you.”

Your hand in his is turned, pulled slightly away but not enough to be taken away from his grasp. You walk from the side of the chair to stand in front of him, and when you meet his eyes, you nod down, gesturing to his lap. He smiles softly, nodding his head and leaning back, humming under his breath when you situate yourself on his lap, your head resting on his shoulder.

“You’re oddly touchy today,” he comments, his hand curved on your lap as the one he held is moved to behind his neck, your fingertips barely touching his collarbone. “Did I do something to deserve this?”

You give a half-hearted hum, and in the corner of his eye, he can tell that you have closed your eyes. “Think of it as a way to make you feel better.” You give him a play tap and he nods, his eyes staring straight ahead, lost against the colorful spines of the books. “So what does have you so worked up?”

Is now his chance? Is he now able to tell you the full extent of his feelings? He has you sitting on his lap, comforting him in a way that few people would ever dare to. There's feelings there, bubbling and forming on both ends and he knows that it’s both ends. It’s you that is on his mind. Filtering in when you shouldn’t, invading every space of his that he has until he’s completely overwhelmed. It’s a strong feeling, something that rivals his own wrath and for the first time, he welcomes it- he doesn’t put up a fight against it. He wants to feel whatever it is that you make him feel. He wants the intensity of it until he’s exhausted, until the wrath that has been boiling inside of him ever since he can remember, can finally evaporate, can finally be extinguished.

You call his name once more and he looks at you, his smile tight and eyes closed for a moment. “How do I tell you that I care for you in a way that says exactly what I’m trying to say without scaring you off?” His eyes close and his hand turns over on your thigh, palm open and empty. “How do I tell you that you’re the thing on my mind? That it’s you that is reducing me into a mess at the simple thought of you.” He turns his head enough, shrugging his shoulder to make sure that you’re looking back at him, your chest still and the hand that you had relaxed, is slowly crawling over to his open one. “The thought of you warps into this- this jealous demon that isn’t exactly something I’m fond of. I you to myself and yet, that I want you to myself and that the thought of you with anyone else, makes me more of wrath than I have ever been.” Your hand closes above his and he nods slowly, clasping his hand over yours. “It’s you, and it’ll always be you.”

With a jolt, his words finally register to him. He turns to face you, but you’re buried into his shoulder, your hand holding tightly onto his, as if he were your lifeline and the one over his shoulder is grasping at his sweater, bunching the knit fabric into a mess. Your heart beats over the sound of the room, the hum of the electricity erased, the steps and chatter muffled under you. He smiles softly, a slow chuckle taking over, until he’s laughing widely, his chest shaking and vibrating under you with every laugh. You moan his name and he can only say the first letters of an apology before his laughter takes over.

“Really, really- I’m not laughing at you,” he says through an attempt at laughter. “I just forgot how different you are. How you always seem to change depending on your mood.” He feels a harsh pat against him, your head shaking as you press further into him. “Please, never change,” he says with a laugh at the end, his head turning, his lips meeting against the side of yours in a quick press.

Asmodeus:

He’s flawless. He has to be. Or, maybe he’s just naturally like that. You are not the best when it comes to reading Asmodeus- too enthralled by him that you can’t seemingly tell when he’s told a joke or not that pertains to his beauty. Very little of it matters to you- you may appreciate that he is quite gorgeous, but you’ve also gotten to know the demon that embodies Lust.

Perhaps it’s because he knows who he is, that he is Lust, that he has to appear the best at all times. He can never make a mistake or it’ll be all that’s talked about- he knows as well as anyone else how easily a reputation can be damaged. However, when he looks at you, he doesn’t have to worry about that. He still wants to look his best for you, but he knows that if he were to slip, you wouldn’t see him any differently than how others see him.

You sleep beside him, nestled under his covers, the blanket pulled a little bit past your lips. Your hair is askew, small strands that stick up or curl around your face. Slowly, he takes a slender finger and softens the hair back to you, smiling when you try to lean into his touch. Your eyes flutter open, and you turn before he can see you, yawning and stretching your arms upwards, the cover crumpling above you. You lie still for a few more seconds and he sits upwards, daring to peek at your face. As if already knowing that he was going to watch you, you run a hand through your hair in an attempt to make yourself look more refined, to fix your appearance before him. You rub your eyes with a knuckle, turning to him and opening your mouth only to have a yawn cut through.

“Did you have a good nap?” Asmodeus asks, watching as you stretch your limbs, your muscles pulled taut as you let out a whine of satisfaction. You nod in response to him. “I’m glad. You know, I do have to tell you that you were right. I try not to ruin my sleep schedule but that nap felt simply divine. I think I feel more rested than I usually do.”

You smile at him, turning over to rest your head on his chest. His hand immediately comes to curve over the back of your head. “I like sleeping with you. You have such a soft bed and you always give such nice hugs.” He laughs in response, his hand lowering to hold near your shoulder. “It’s true. Devildom is still-” you take a brief pause- “different. And somehow, when I’m with you, all my worries are just-” you blow out a gentle puff of air- “gone.”

“I’m here for whenever you need me. All you have to do is just call,” he comments, his hand running past the sleeve of your shirt, his index and middle fingers touching against your warm skin. “I think it’s almost time for dinner. Would you like to accompany me? I’d be more than happy to take you to that little restaurant we found the other day.”

The edge of your sleeve is toyed with, pinched between the fingers and released. His hand returns to where it lay only to be disturbed when you rise, causing his hand to rest beside him. You give him a blinding smile that makes his heart flutter as he looks at you. “I’d be more than happy to, but I would like to get ready before we go out.” He raises a brow at you, tilting his head to encourage you to continue. “I want to look my best for you.” You lean forward and he smiles, fully ready for a kiss, only to have you pull away and kiss his shoulder. He frowns, his lips pushing towards a pout as he looks at you.

“Not even a kiss?” He asks, a tease of playfulness loosely attached to his words. “I have to say that I’m hurt.” He watches as you move, curling your legs underneath you as you watch him with a hint of smile on your face. “After all that I do for you, and yet, you have the gall to deny me a simple kiss?” he lets out a huff, not trying to hide the smile that graces his features and you. “You should be ashamed of yourself. There are demons who would kiss my steps to even look at me.”

“Asmo,” you call to him and he quiets, looking at you with expectant eyes. Despite him being the demon who can be considered one of the strongest- and is- you’re still the one who holds all the power in the relationship. He nods, encouraging you to continue. “Why do you want to go out with me?”

He can’t help the smile that forms, that twists the already playful one into something more bitter. It’s a question that he asked himself the first time he realized his feelings towards you. He could have it all and you’re just a human with minimal magical abilities. He’s met countless lifeforms who were and are beautiful, their beauty forever imprinted and never seeming to age. But, he still chooses you. And he’s content with that. He’s more than happy that he’s with you.

His thumb traces over your bottom lip, his eyes focused on your cupid’s bow. “You know, there are times when I look at you and I wonder if you see yourself the way that I see you.” He knows what to say, it all comes so natural to him when he compliments you. “Your scars and blemishes, the stretch marks around your tummy and how they pale and wrap around you. The little moles that you have are kissed along your sides and cheeks.” His thumb moves down and now his hand holds yours. “I have to be perfect- I have to be loved and admired, but then I see you and I think to myself how as long as I’m loved by you, that’s enough. You really have changed me in a way I never saw myself. Beauty means everything to me- or at least it did. But now I have you, and I have to admit, that I prefer you over anything else in the world.” He leans forward and lets his lips press against the corners of yours. “I want to go out with you, because to me, you’re the best that there will ever be.”

It all happens in a flash, seeing your face darken, feeling the hand slowly shake and then your face is hidden by the covers. He can hear you whine his name, and when his hand touches between your shoulder blades, his nimble fingers reaching above the collar of your shirt and touching your neck, he can feel how hot it is. He laughs as his arms reach around you and pull you close to him, giggling and accepting your odd human behavior.

Beelzebub:

Detention is quiet, save for the ticking of the clock, but other than that it’s silent. The room is occupied by a total of three people- you, Beelzebub, and the unfortunate professor that is stuck to watch over the two of you who scrolls through their D.D.D. while music plays loudly every now and then. You suspect they are on an app similar to one from the Human Realm, complete with word play and aesthetic from Devildom.

You turn over to Beelzebub, quirking your brows when you see him scribbling over a paper with a pen. You peer over, sitting straighter to get a closer look only to find him mindlessly doodling, similar drawings cover the paper in blue ink. As if feeling your stare, he turns to you with slightly wide eyes before relaxing them, sending you a smile and raising his paper, to show you his work. You return the smile, pleased at his cute antics and his boyish smile. You send him a thumbs up, before the professor coughs, catching the attention from the two of you.

They stand up, their tail curling around their leg and with a yawn, they expose their teeth. Their phone is stuffed into their pocket as they slowly walk to the front of the desk. “I’ll be back. I expect the two of you to still be here. You both have an hour left.” With that, they walk to the door, the heels of their shoes clicking, the door creaking before it finally closes leaving you and Beelzebub alone in a room.

Immediately, you turn to Beelzebub, your chair squeaking as you shift it hastily. “Beel,” you say excitedly, patting your hands on your thighs. He answers with a hum, tilting his head to the side to show that he is listening to you. “You have power over the professors, don't you?” You see the corner of his lip twitch upwards. “I mean you're the Avatar of Gluttony, can’t you just get us both out of here?”

The pen is set down and he leans back on his chair, his legs sliding underneath the desk until they are stretched to their full length. He turns to you, his smile lazy and eyes half-lidded. “I don’t feel like getting in trouble anymore than I already have.” His smile is crooked, teeth barely glimpsing from behind his lips.

“But we’re already in trouble,” you try to argue, pushing forward. “Please?” You lean forward, holding onto his bicep, with a pout on your lips. “If I use the pact powers, I’ll probably be the only one in trouble.”

He snickers, crossing his arms and lowering his head to side his smile. “We have an hour.” He looks up at you, a hand coming to cover yours. “Just sit and wait, okay? I’ll treat you out later.” You stick your tongue out at him and he laughs, pulling away from your touch and turning his own chair to face you, his hand resting over the desk, pulling on the tip of the pen until it is pulled underneath his hand. “What makes you want to go home so early anyways?”

“Why don’t you wanna go home?” You shoot back, your arm bent above the desk, with your chin resting on the palm of your hand. He shrugs in response, his attention back to the paper as he starts to bounce the pen between his index finger and thumb. “What are you drawing, anyways?” it doesn’t go unnoticed that he stiffens at your question, his lips pulling into a thin line as his leg starts to bounce. “It’s the same image, right? Like the same character that you’re drawing?” You lean closer, watching as he bounces the pen faster in his hand.

“It’s- It’s for art class,” he responds, clearing his throat. His hands grab at the paper and for a moment you think he’s about to crumble the paper, but instead he slips it between a notebook, careful to not let an edge slip out before it’s stuffed into his bag. “We have to draw-” he hesitates, squirming under your attention- “a thing.”

“I thought sports took care of your electives?” He sucks in a breath through his teeth, turning his attention to the board smeared with chalky remains. “Oh? Are you lying to me?” Your hand flutters to your heart, your voice faux hurt as your slump over in your seat. “Beelzebub, I’m actually hurt. Here I thought we were close and yet-”

“I’m drawing you,” he says, effectively making you stop in your theatrics. You turn to him, your mouth parted. “I wanted to draw you and give it to you as a gift but I can’t get your smile right.”

“Well that didn’t take much probing,” you mutter, scooting your chair closer to him, the toe of your shoe nudging against his backpack.

“I don’t like lying to you,” he states, his body becoming still and eyes returning to where you sit so close to him. Close enough where he can smell your cream. “I just didn’t want you to find out.”

There’s silence between the both of you, your lips pursed as you nod. “My smile?” He nods. “It should be simple, shouldn’t it?” Just a curve and some smaller curves for the lips and boom, you’re done.” You grab his backpack, holding it in your hands, the opening pointed towards him.

“No,” he says with a frown, pulling the same notebook out and slipping out the paper. Upon closer inspection, the images of what appears to be you are roughly scribbled. They aren’t the best but the thought of him drawing something for you and being nervous about you finding out makes the drawing much sweeter. “You have a nice smile. It’s like- like,” you look up at him to see his brows furrowed. “I don’t know how to explain it. Your smile is nice. It’s a lot more than nice. When you smile at me, it’s just nice. I like seeing you happy. You smiling at me makes me feel special and I don’t want to half-ass some drawing of you. I want to make it special because you’re special to me. Your smile makes me feel warm, like I’m being hugged and everytime you smile, it always reaches your eyes and when your eyes crinkle, it’s like you’re just looking at me and that makes me feel so-” he takes a deep sigh and releases it slowly- “so safe.” His words come to a soft close, his face a warm shade of red. He lets out a nervous chuckle. “That sounds dumb, doesn’t it?” When he looks at you, you’ve curled into a ball in your seat, your face buried into his backpack. He calls your name frantically, his hands on your shoulders, only to pull away when you let out a high-pitched whine. “Did I offend you?” His name is muffled between the fabric. “Yeah?”

“You’re really sweet,” you moan pitifully, clutching the bag tighter, hoping that it effectively hides your burning face. “I think I’ll actually die from what you just said.” Your heart beats in your chest, the sweet confession echoing in your ears and when you smile, you can only hide it, not wanting him to see the wide grin that is now plastered across your face. “I’ll take any drawing that you give me.” You hold your hand out, ready to receive the unfinished work, not yet lifting your head.

His hand covers your outstretched one. “Maybe if I can see your smile right now, I’d be able to get it right,” he teases slightly. Your only response is shaking your head, giggling through the fabric as you feebly try to shake his hand away. He laughs widely, holding your hand tighter as he urges for you to look upward at him.

Belphegor:

The room is quiet, no footsteps that echo from above, no noise that travels from the stairs into the room that was once Belphegor’s prison. Beside him, you lay curled on your side, resting against him, your hand playing with a drawstring of his hoodie, playing with the frayed ends at your fingertips.

“I thought being around you would make me sleepy,” you murmur, an ill-placed yawn ruining the validity of your statement.

Even where he lays, he knows that you’re pouting, with your brows knitted together. “It seems that I am already making you quite tired. You only lasted how long?” He’d make a show of checking his nonexistent watch, but he rather not, already too comfortable in his current position to risk moving. You blow a raspberry in response and he lets out a giggle, his hand that is placed underneath you is bent to hold a strand of your hair in between his fingers. “Come on, be nice now. I can also make you unbelievably tired but unable to sleep.”

“You’re so cruel Belphegor,” you say in a whisper, your hand finally still from playing with his drawstring. “You’d take away my sleep for a simple noise? How juvenile,” you tease, nuzzling further into his side, humming when his fingers part through your hair and scratch lightly at your scalp. “Here I am, whisked away from my homework to come and nap beside you. And what do I get in return? Teasing.” The last word slowly drifted off into a simple breath of air that was tickled against his side.

It really hadn’t taken you so long to fall under his own sleeping spell. A part of him is a bit bitter, wanting to spend more time with you where the both of you were conscious and could actually talk, while the other part of him, is simply glad that you’re resting beside him, that you’ve taken time out of your day to lay next to him.

“It’s not like you don’t deserve it,” he says through a smile, twisting your hair around his index. “I mean, out of all the reactions I can get, yours is possibly the best of them.”

“Thank you,” you say, sounding a bit more like a question. “You know, I’m glad that you invited me up here. I haven't been getting the best sleep as of late.”

“You can always come to me,” he’s quick to say, eager so evident in his voice that he’s drowning in it. He wants to be near you, he wants to be with you.

“I don't want to bother you,” you confess with a faint voice.

“You could never bother me.” It’s the truth. He’d crawl to you if it meant even a fraction of your attention would be given to him. He’d do what he could just to hear your voice. You’d never be a bother to him. You’d be his saving grace. It’s silent for a moment, one where he can hear the house come alive under him and feel your breath with even more vigor than before, feeling each and every pause, every gust of air a kiss against his skin that makes him yearn for more. He calls your name, and it’s thick on his tongue- foreign and light, and yet it sounds like he’s said it countless times before, as if he knew the name by heart. You hum in response and he takes a deep breath.

His finger twirls around a small piece of your hair, letting the hair curl around his finger before he releases it, only to do the same thing once more. “I’m always surprised that you let me get so close,” he says in a quiet voice, careful to not ruin the moment but a part of him knows that it might have been ruined already when it alludes to him. He can feel your eyes on him, watching him carefully as your lips part. “I know that I’m not exactly a knight in shining armor or anything and uh-” he lets the strad of your hair go, watching it bounce in freedom- “I just want you to know that I appreciate that you even let me touch you. I really like you, you know? I think you’re a much better person than I’ll ever be.” His lips stretch into a bittersweet smile that soon falls into a frown, twisting his features into something more somber. You say his name and it makes his breath hitch, a hiccup in his throat as his name fills the momentary silence. “I mean it. I think that’s why I- why you mean so much to me. I could never be like you. I can only admire you from afar and want you for myself.” He lets out a breathless puff of air that has humor etched into it. “I just wanted you to know that you mean a lot more to me than I’ll ever be able to put into words.”

With every continuation of his words, you felt your body respond to him. Your stomach twists with butterflies causing a storm inside of you, your chest tight and the sweet relief of air has escaped your lungs, and you’re hot, heat flush against your face and creeping from your chest and upward. You wonder if he could hear every change in your breathing, in your heart that beats, in just you.

He looks at you through half closed eyes and for once, you don’t think that it’s sleep that’s causing his soft smile and tender eyes. You stiffen, your muscles going rigid under his stare. The pillow is cool under your face as you stay hidden from him, gripping at the edges and turning away from his gaze, unable to keep as tight face as a smile creeps across your face.

He laughs as you lower your head, hiding your face from his after the tender words that were shared. “Come on, was it that easy to make you flustered?” He teases, the bed dipping as he moves. His hand tugs on the pillow that is held tightly in your grasp. “Oh come on, just look up,” he whines, weakly tugging at the pillow. “Seriously, you’re so dramatic and for no reason. It shouldn’t be news to you that I like you.” His smile is clear in his voice, light and full of kittenish behavior. “If you don’t pay attention to me, I’m going to continue, you know.” His grin widens when you finally peek at him, and he can’t help but laugh.

Diavolo:

There is chatter in the room, accompanied by the heels of shoes that click against the tiled floor. The room is lit in an orange glow that makes the atmosphere of the room seem almost dream-like. You tug wine glass, pulling it closer to you, careful to not let a drop spill over and stain the pristine white tablecloth. You glance around the room, watching people chat amongst themselves, their own eyes glued to their partners.

You look at the prince before you who takes a sip from his glass, his tongue peeking to wipe at the taste on his lips. “Diavolo?” The glass is set down and he looks at you with slightly widened eyes. “When I said I wanted to go out for dinner, I was fine with just some Akudonalds or ya know-” you glance once more around the room, your gaze focused on the silverware set carefully in front of you- “anything.

“This is anything,” he says, his smile cool and hands resting above the table. “We hardly go out and when we do, the others tend to accompany us. While I enjoy their company, I’d also like to just enjoy yours. So I thought, since this is a rare occasion, we’d make the best of it.” He leans close to you, and you know that there is no malice or hidden intention with him. He is honest, able to tell you what he wants without finding it necessary to hide himself. “If you are uncomfortable with such a restaurant, we can always go somewhere else, next time.”

“It’s not that, it’s just-” you clear your throat, leaning against the table, lowering your voice- “I’ve never been to such a high-end place. I don’t want you to overspend because of me. I’m fine just going somewhere low-key.”

He laughs, shaking his head and his fingers drum against the table. I’m a prince. There’s no such thing as overspending and even if there were, I don’t mind it if it’s you that I’m doting on.” You nod slowly, your fingers running at the edge of the fork handle. “Really, there is no need to worry. I’m just happy that you agreed to join me on this outing.”

You do your best to not shake your legs, mindful of the wine beside you. “‘M glad I was able to join you as well. I- I like spending time with you.” You smile sweetly at him, a hint of nerves tracing against your smile. “I just have to admit that I was taken aback when you invited me out. I know you mentioned how it’s always us with the others, but I don’t know-” you fingers find themselves tracing around the base of the glass- “I guess I always figured you liked me because I was able to get you out of work since you know, I am part of your work. I never would have assumed that you actually wanted to spend time with me.”

For a moment, it’s silent, a brief moment that couldn't even be considered silent, just a short pause but it's enough for him. “May I admit something to you?” Diavolo asks, his hands fiddling with the napkin beside himself. You nod, leaning forward, urging him to continue. “I was always fascinated with humans. I loved humans- they were these beings who had free will and they all lived different lives but in the end they shared the same fate.” He chuckles softly and his hand goes to the stem of the wine glass. “It’s the same for demons, of course. Any life can be taken and for the most part, they have free will, but I think I love humans. Or at least I thought I did.” He looks up at you, his smile faltering for a moment as he struggles to keep it up. “But I think rather than love, I hold admiration for their humanity. For their tenacity, and kindness; their love and warmth that they have with each other. And when I look at you-” his hand leaves the glass and is left open towards you- “I’m reminded of how beautiful humans can be.” His smile turns bitter for a moment, falling and he makes no attempt to keep up the facade. “I’m reminded just how fragile they are. I need you to know that I admire humanity, but I think I love you. I love how you do your best to help those around you, how you adapt to your environment, and just how easily you can make others fall for you.” He lets out a short laugh through his nose. “If I have to be honest, I think I’m also jealous of you. I wish I were the only one who could have the opportunity to fall for you.” His hand is still held out towards you, vacant without yours.

Throughout his monologue your body has been on fire, pooling in your stomach and against your back. You stare at his empty hand, trying to will yourself to hold it but the most that you can do is lay your head on the table, silverware clicking together and a dull thud heard. You want to let out a whine but you’re sure you’ve already called attention to yourself and- oh dear. What will people think of when they see Lord Diavolo with a human who has planted their face against a table. Your thoughts race, clouding your mind as the silence in the room is deafening, echoing in your ears as you rest with your face down.

“Is this a human custom?” Diavolo asks, his voice full of genuine wonderment. “Should I also be doing it?”

“Dia,” you mumble, your body slowly squeezing against itself in order to make yourself smaller. “You can’t confess so nonchalant,” you say in a hushed whisper, wanting to let out any type of noise that is slowly building up inside of you. “It’s- It’s too much for me,” you whine, slowly raising your head to peer at him.

“Well, I am a prince- a demon one at that. I suppose you can say that there are different customs for us as well.” His smile is jovial, and he reaches across the table, his hand open and this time you take it. Unable to look him in the eye, you resort to watching as his hand slowly threads to intertwine himself with you. “I must say, if that’s the response I were to get, I might as well continue it. I rather liked whatever it was that you did.” He’s so honest, looking at you with a wide grin that shows his pointed teeth and you can’t help but bury your face once more, grinning when you hear him let out a small laugh, his hand closing around yours.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] ASMR Transcript - Deep in the Night (Victor)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an ASMR, 深宵, which has not been released in EN! 🍒

Your scent is a fragrance that he can’t get enough of.

[ Released in CN: 3 April 2022 ]

[ footsteps ]

You’ve been toying with that perfume bottle the entire night.

Aren’t you going to sleep yet?

I’m not rushing you.

I’m simply reminding you.

That the breakfast provided by this hotel

Is only available till 8am.

If you can’t wake up,

I won’t wait for you.

...playing coy won’t work.

You’re that reluctant to put it down?

Mm, it’s uncommon to see such nicely preserved perfume.

No wonder you liked it once you saw it in the second-hand store.

You’re starting to worry that the scent will change?

That’s too late.

There’s no need to worry.

If it’s preserved well,

No matter how many years pass,

The scent of the perfume will not change.

That’s correct.

This is a gift to one’s sense of smell which passed through time.

[ bottle clinking noises ]

The notes of the scent?

It’s probably related to the trends of that time.

I’ve never specially learnt perfume trends from the previous century.

It’s natural that there are things I’m unaware of.

But there’s a list of notes on the packaging.

It should state them very clearly.

Why are you hiding the box?

What thoughts are going through your head this time?

You want me to try identifying the notes through the scent?

What a childish challenge.

[ footsteps ]

You can add a bargaining chip?

Go on.

You’ll carry a parasol for me when we head out tomorrow?

No need for that.

Considering a certain someone’s height,

This isn’t realistic.

I don’t need a full body massage either. 

If you insist on causing trouble for yourself,

Listen to my proposal.

If I identify the correct tones,

Your work-life schedule over the next few days before your trip ends

Will be arranged by me.

You’ll be prohibited from working late at night

And you’ll also be prohibited from grabbing me in the morning to sleep in with you.

I don’t dislike it.

But wasting two to three hours -

Don’t you find that long too?

What if I guess wrongly?

In that case, I’ll leave the leadership to you.

It’s very fair.

Mm.

Squandering time with you till the morning will be fine too.

[ Victor inhales ]

You haven’t decided?

Why the hesitation?

You’re worried that I’d sneak a glance at the list of tones?

...I’m not as childish as you are.

How do you want to feel at ease then?

Cover my eyes?

Oh?

So the reason why you took off the belt and strapped it over the back of the chair

Was to use it here.

You’re getting bolder.

Why are you blushing?

I didn’t say that you couldn’t.

Come here.

[ Victor noises ]

Have you tied it properly?

This is enough for you to feel at ease?

Sure enough, you’re a childish dummy.

...at this time,

Where else do you plan to go?

There’s no need for a fragrance blotter strip.

Just dab it on the back of your ear.

But what?

Haven’t you always used perfume there?

You can start.

[ Victor inhales ]

A very sweet scent of cinnamon.

Why are you hiding?

It tickles?

I haven’t touched your ear.

You were the one who initiated this challenge

But you’re dodging around now.

Come a little closer.

[ Victor inhales deeply into his massive chest ]

Don’t fidget.

The middle note is rose.

It’s very strong.

This place is famous for producing roses.

Using it as raw material for perfumes is very normal.

You thought about something?

That trip we took during the Rose Festival?

It did leave a deep impression.

A certain someone had a heatstroke but insisted on putting up a strong front and drinking wine.

In the end, she spilt an entire cup of wine all over the bed sheet.

I won’t continue then.

But when it comes to such “dark history” -

I don’t mind you creating a little more of them.

The base notes

Are musk and purlin wood. 

A classic combination.

A pretty good woody scent.

I’ve already given my answers.

Now, it’s time for the verification.

[ rustling noises ]

Cannelle, rose.

Looks like my guesses for the top note and middle note are correct.

What’s left is the base note.

Continue.

[ rustling noises ]

Why are you stuck?

Don’t you know the meaning of this word?

It looks like a certain someone’s French has much room for improvement.

Bois de santal.

It means sandalwood.

Don't just nod.

Read it with me.

Your pronunciation isn’t accurate enough.

The shape of your mouth should be a little rounder.

Let the air flow brush the space between your teeth gently.

Lift the tip of your tongue.

[ kisses ]

I took advantage of you while you were caught off guard?

I simply treated you the way you treated me.

Don’t you remember?

I could help you remember.

Who suddenly lunged onto me during the Rose Festival

And licked red wine off her palm little by little in front of me?

And in the sky garden,

Who was the one who pulled me onto the bed?

I remember how

The flower bed swayed for a very long time.

So long that... it left a deep impression.

[ kisses ]

I’m not bringing up past grievances.

Memories and scents are linked.

When I smell the fragrance of roses,

It’s only natural to recall related experiences.

Why don’t you think about

What you should do

To make me forget these things...

As for the specifics,

The choice is with you.

Arch your back.

[ kisses + HE RIPS SOMETHING LOL ]

There’s no need to feel bad about it.

After getting up tomorrow afternoon,

I’ll accompany you in buying a new one.

Or leave it to room service...

[ kisses + HE CONTINUES RIPPING SOMETHING ]

You have changed the way I think.

Right now, I feel that

Sleeping a little late is fine.

[ rustling ]

✧ Call: here

✧ Text and moments: here

[catch-the-wind]

when reader is sick hc's p2

PART 2 IS FINISHED WHOO

here's a link to part 1 uwu

so i'm still brainrotting over this and i would like to date almost every character rn~ i probably won't add more to this unprompted but if anyone wants a part 2 just shoot me an ask! <3

tags: gn!reader, xiao x reader, zhongli x reader, ningguang x reader, beidou x reader, kazuha x reader, amber x reader, keqing x reader, venti x reader, scaramouche x reader, thoma x reader

xiao

this man is so awkward goodbye

he’s really popping into the kitchen of wangshu inn like mr. smiley yanxiao i need an order of almond tofu and uhh whatever the hell it is sick people eat

asks cloud retainer if there’s a medicinal thing she’s created and hey can you fix my s/o

meanwhile his s/o is like xiao- xiao- XIAO- it’s a COLD i’ll SURVIVE, stop leaving me to find solutions and just come cuddle

so xiao cuddles <3 he’ll read to his partner but it’s likely he’s also just sitting there in silence holding his s/o

he likes the companionship, doesn’t talk much. comfy silence all around

his partner probably falls asleep on him at some point but he’s okay with it

he probably watches his partner while they rest and he’s super frowny because he hates seeing them in pain :(

but also the gentle forehead kisses while his partner rests <3

he tells zhongli that he needs time to be with his s/o while they’re ill. he makes it sound like his partner is dying which is...overdramatic but also he just wants to dote on them and make sure they’re okay

he asks verr goldet what things a sick person might want while his partner rests and then he tries to kinda sorta subtly ask for help getting them

tries to dote on his partner subtly but he’s so grumpy all the time LOL

n e ways he gives his partner smooches and cuddles and that’s all that matters uwu

zhongli

he doesn’t even have to really say it to hu tao, she just knows he’s about to ask for a few days off. he does ask, ofc bc he’s following the protocols of social etiquette

he goes to his partner’s home or they’re in his for the entire time they’re sick

has a shopping list of foods for a sick person, also gets tea

has no mora to purchase anything on his shopping list so he hits up tartaglia LMAO

tartaglia comes w zhongli just to visit zhongli’s s/o

hu tao also comes to visit zhongli and co but he’s so wary of her because is she about to pull a prank- really she just brings him some tea he likes and wishes his s/o well <3 she probably sings to them too but it’s a little creepy if you listen to the lyrics LOL

this man is not reading his partner stories, they’re getting histories, pov morax. he knows so many little details that are lost in time but are kept safely in his memories

the man works out, tell me otherwise. he may choose his own body and he knows he has cake but the man works out and trains. he’s a god of WAR and he keeps himself in good shape. n e way he works out in the living room or backyard while his s/o is sick and he trains w just a shirt and pants and he’s so pretty aHEm i think my asthma is acting up again hang on

okay but muscles rippling and you can see it through the clothes that aren’t even that tight BUT BRO WHY ARE YOU GRUNTING SO MUCH PLEASE NO ONE ELSE DOES

would probably get his partner toys and such and one of them is a little dragon <3 give it smooches every day

he’s distracted when he answers hu tao or the adepti because he’s thinking ab his partner instead

ningguang

the frown on her face when she finds out PHEW

she takes her partner’s temperature with the back of her hand and she’s all frowny all day. ganyu is lowkey concerned bc what’s the matter with lady ningguang-

her partner stays in ningguang’s home and she’s working from home for a while <3 there are millelith guards and members of the qixing popping into her home office and even beidou once or twice. bei is also worried ab ning’s partner, but she’s doing the hearty slap on the back and the “get well soon!”

ningguang ordering food from wanmin and xiangling personally delivering it <3 xiangling and guoba are both showing up with some hot soup and guoba is there for cuddles pls he’s so cute

ningguang will read to her partner, probably tells them about her day and entertains small talk until they fall asleep

she cooks some of her qiankun mora meat and tries to make her partner soup <3 the millelith and the qixing have never seen their tianquan in a kitchen working before but she would only ever do it for the people she loves

keqing is in the corner quietly shipping while munching golden shrimp balls goodbye

i think ningguang respects ganyu too much to force her to run around for stuff but ganyu probably likes ning’s partner enough to do it anyway

ning and cuddles and temple kisses and she won’t give her partner smooches on the lips :( but she’s soft for them so they get cheek kisses and spooning them to sleep

beidou

she stays at her partner’s place while they’re sick because the crux might make them feel seasick instead

but she goes back and forth to the crux to get her things and take care of business and such. her crew probably loves her partner so they have things for bei to bring back <3

bei doesn’t even leave her partner’s town but she’s got sango pearls, cecilias, qingxin, cor lapis jewelry, dendrobiums (even though those are like. blood flowers. they’re pretty it’s fine) and many many fruits

xiangling comes by with food for bei and co and sticks around to hear beidou telling her partner stories about her time at sea

beidou is. she’s so buff okay. she carries her partner in and out of the room and to the living room or kitchen or brings everything to her partner and you can see how defined her muscles are bye i’m in love with her

we already know bei learned to cook a little bit from xiangling but beidou is absolutely learning to cook more while her partner is sick. xiangling is there giving her cooking lessons while beidou’s partner watches <3 bei with that look of concentration and she’s so quick with the knives too i’m- okay but her spoonfeeding her partner?? *chef’s kiss* ;)

beidou puts too much pepper in a dish and it deffo clears sinuses LMAO but she tried and it actually does taste very good if you can handle your spice 🤷‍♀️ i cannot so find me with a gallon of milk later

n e ways beidou cuddles her partner to sleep and falls asleep as soon as she knows they’re resting <3 many cuddles and many kisses, even if they insist not to because cooties will get u sick bei 🥺

visits bubu’s pharmacy to get her partner’s medicine herself but also has remedies from other places too! zhongli deffo helps her with some other gifts for convalescents so it’s historically, traditionally and socially acceptable

kazuha

is so worried omg

wherever his ass is, he’s going to his partner as soon as he finds out they’re sick. he’s so frowny and worried it’s almost cute but also,,,kazu it’s a cold, it’s FINE

he goes to collect qingxin and sweet flowers and stuff himself and makes his own poultices and soups and such <3

he shows up at his partner’s home with arms and buckets of flowers and herbs as soon as he possibly can. bei understands if he has to go tho, she gives him leave uwu

makes his partner soup and dried fish and gives them many smooches <3 they are not allowed out of bed LOL they just have to stay there and wait for him to dote on them

many many cuddles and smooches. he plays leaves and grass and recites poems for them he’s so cute <3 sigh, this man plays grass and i’m out here simping

also comes bearing gifts from wherever he was last tho. if he was on the crux, he’s probably got gifts from beidou and the crew even if they don’t really know kazu’s partner, they just know he’s happy and that’s what matters. if he’s not on the crux, his boss probably gives him leave and a gift or smth even if it’s just like a tea or a bottle of wine or smth

he’ll cuddle and be a blanket. but he’s also got fabrics that beidou picked up in inazuma and he uses that as a blanket for his partner <3

will tell his s/o stories of his childhood, his time wandering, his time with the crew, his work. anything they want to know or have questions about, he’ll tell them.

forehead kisses, temple kisses, holding his partner’s hand and pressing a kiss to the back of their hand ugh i love him

deffo gets sick because he can’t deny his partner smooches on the lips smh. and then it’s his partner’s turn to play nursemaid

the crew from the crux probably drops by to check on kazoo man and co. they bring some regional delicacies and blankets and their best cold remedies with a slap on the back for kazu and a gentler pat for his partner. like w ningguang’s partner, bei probably gives kazu’s s/o a hearty slap but it’s not enough to hurt them

anyway i’m in love with him

amber

she’s so worried she’s such a sweetie omg

she goes to her partner immediately and fusses over them before they have to gently tell her that they’re fine

she goes to collect sweet flowers and stuff and goes to ohm, albedo and barbara for help making medicines and such

doesn’t want to leave her duties unattended to but jean also knows that amber wants to be with her s/o so she tells amber that she has fewer duties for her <3

jean tells kaeya to go make sure amber is doing okay and doesn’t need help or anything so he drags ohm, diluc, albedo and lisa too LOL

lisa was planning on going anyway, she just used diluc to carry her books w this opportunity <3 albedo is just treating amber’s partner w meds and potions and things and lisa takes a peek at that too

she’s so sad she doesn’t have ohm’s super cold skin so she can’t be a human cooling pack for her partner </3 but she gives them many smooches on cheeks and foreheads and temples

barely resists giving her partner kisses on the lips bc she still wants to go to work but also wants to give her partner what they need and sigh. it’s a struggle for amber

she wears pajamas and cuddles with her s/o <3

cooks her partner some (fully cooked!!) meals, not her specialty steak. but she makes soup and goes to good hunter and gets good hot food there too

keqing

wants to take some time off to help her partner feel better but also doesn’t want to leave work. ningguang probably sends her home at some point because she’s fretting and working and stop feeling so bad keqing, you have sick days

she still goes to work but she’s just taking marginally shorter days sigh, she goes home early instead but brings work home so she can do it while sitting with her partner

wears leisure clothes when at home with her partner but the fact that she has clothes she doesn’t use for work is shocking LMAO the cat ears stay tho ;) catgirl always

ganyu comes by with keqing’s work, some wanmin takeout and a card and gift for her partner <3

xiangling hears that keqing is home with her partner while they’re sick and brings food over to keqing’s. she’s got extra golden shrimp balls for keqing. AND AGAIN. GUOBA CUDDLES ❤️❤️❤️

keqing feels so bad for not doing as much work, she’s making herself almost as sick as her partner </3

ningguang comes over one night with beidou while keqing is doing work in bed while her partner is resting and she sees keqing stressed as all hell. she just gives keqing some food and tells her to actually rest. soft!ning and bei being moms god i love them

okay but keqing tucking her partner in with a sweet kiss before retreating to her work in the corner, the lamps turned to the lowest they can possibly be because keqing refuses to leave her beloved but can’t not do work

keqing trying to cook food for her partner that isn’t meant specifically for survival but for taste is so cute. she’s trying to cook golden shrimp balls and soup and stuff and she’s not bad at it! she took a single night of giving her s/o hot tea and some wanmin soup before she learned the whole cookbook so she can be the one to cook for them <3

venti

he brings his partner wine u cannot tell me otherwise

he goes to diluc’s. not the tavern but straight up dawn winery and asks diluc if he can get a bottle of wine for his s/o and please please please he’ll go fight some of those slimes for you, please? with the big 🥺 and staying outside diluc’s window to beg bye

diluc just gives him the wine with a glare but won’t make venti do the commission <3 venti legit says “thank barbatos” and gives diluc an ~ehe~ before he gets ready to glide away. he turns around and asks diluc if he’s sure he can’t do the comm but diluc just glares at him all broody~

diluc comes by to check on venti’s partner too bc where does venti live- venti is just camping out at his partner’s place for now and feeding them and giving them wine and diluc just kinda goes a little pink but glares while he says “get well soon” and leaves a windwheel aster from near the winery

venti makes soup and many vegetable/fruity foods because “they’re good for you! have some wine with that ehe”

jean comes by at some point with barbara to check on venti and co. they’ve got other foods and some hydro healing for venti’s partner <3

ohm comes over to see his friend and brings him some medicines, food and wine. he gets to witness the anemo god get all soft and squooshy for his s/o it’s so sweet

he uses anemo to entertain his partner with some gentle breezes playing through leaves <3 but he also plays his lyre for them and gives them smooches in between and during songs because he’s a god ofc he isn’t gonna get sick, pay the bard with kisses. and where’s his gratuity :( 😗

he doesn’t read to his s/o but he does tell them stories with a musical accompaniment. sometimes his partner will fall asleep so he just smiles so softly and tucks them in and continues playing his lyre at the window while they sleep <3

but also brushing his partner’s hair back and giving them a kiss on the forehead please i love my beloved kinnie

n e ways venti forehead smooches and playing the lyre for his s/o <3 no cough meds ehe, just dandelion wine and whatever ohm gave him (that was, in fact, the cough medicine)

scaramouche

bro this dude looks like he CANNOT be assed but he really cares <3<3

his work schedule doesn’t change but he’s going to his s/o’s home super often with soup and food and medicine and extra blankets

even to his partner, scara looks broody but he always looks like that LOL

tartaglia finds out where scara is going and he brings food and toys and stuff too <3 scara later has to read one of the kids books tartaglia brought and he refuses to voices but it’s very sweet anyway

scara probably asks sandrone if his doctor brother can get him some good cold medicine but would never admit that he asked ohm for help LOL. ohm shows up anyway and finds out <3

can and will cook soup but that’s all you’re getting from him. the takeout he brought is most definitely not something he made, no sir’am he would never do something as soft as cook for them. soup doesn’t count, it’s oboiling water with some added flavor, shut up tartagalicious he’s not soft

will give his partner kisses only after he thinks they’re asleep. refuses to give them any affection besides a headpat or two and maybe one hug when he shows real concern. his partner isn’t quite yet asleep one time and then feigns sleeping when they hear scara’s whispered “i love you” and he presses a kiss to their forehead 🥺❤️

he takes off his hat inside the house but will go around with a blanket around his shoulders to mock his partner smh. the blanket is on his head like a hood and he fake sniffles with an almost derisive laugh but he gives his partner a real smile at the end <3

9/10 times will never admit that he’s soft unless it’s a Very Serious Moment but he’s a squishy dood for his s/o and his s/o only

will not read or sing to his partner but he’ll sorta cuddle if they ask very nicely and many times. it’s just kind of him sitting next to them and they kind of have to muzzle before he’ll move his arm for his own comfort LMAO

will bring his partner gifts and food, a few flowers but he’ll just claim he’s delivering it from someone else with a look of fake disgust </3 maybe like two of those are actually from other ppl and not him

when his partner is actually feeling really sick, he won’t be a big smol meanie and he actually looks so concerned~ his partner means a lot to him and he doesn’t want them to feel sick or in pain so he’ll cuddle them unprompted and rub their back, run his hand thru their hair, soft forehead and temple kisses and “i’m here, baby” and “i love you” and falling asleep with his partner tucked under his chin <3 he’s actually so sweet bye 😭

thoma

thoma feels so bad when his partner is sick. it isn’t even his fault but he feels so bad because he wants to protect them, even from tiny little germs 😭 i’m sorry u can’t be my immune system thoma it’s FINE

he asks to take off work and ayaka just kinda sighs but smiles and waves a hand to dismiss him bc yes ofc you can, simp

ayato just laughs when he sees this LMAO BYE

thoma’s partner stays at his home, in his bed or a guest room (idk if he has his own place or stays w the kamisatos as their literal live-in maid but anyway)

his partner gets his care, any doctors or caretakers around ritou, the medic from the crux, the kamisato family doctor- this man is using some of his favors for medicine and then cuddling his s/o, ugh i want to date him sm

both kamisatos come by with some food for thoma and co but poor ayato can’t even keep his grin contained, poor thoma is conditioned to be nervous ab what ayato feeds him LOL

he’s cooking for his partner, legit gives them a list of options and an “anything you want, my love?”

cuddles his s/o even tho they might protest but it takes like 0.2 seconds to stop protesting bc that man is comfy

tells his partner stories about what it was like back home in mondstadt and his journey to inazuma and why he’s there as well as his stories about all the different kinds of people he’s met

taroumaru coming w kozue to the kamisato estate to get some hot tea to thoma 🥺 and the cuddles and nuzzles from this great doggo for thoma before he turns to his partner too 😭 straight up jumps in the bed and licks their faces a little before nuzzling in for a hug

n e way thoma gives a lot of hugs and kisses and cuddles and i think he’s hella touchy-feely and misses home and treasures his partner even more because of it

my beautiful red shield ❤️