#i’m basically only minimalistic in everything

[legendofthe3divas]

EVENIN THIS THAT

Folklore or Evermore?

Sparkling water or still water?

Maximalism or minimalism?

Shower or bath?

Sweet or salty?

Board games or video games?

Take a friend on your family vacation or join their family vacation?

beauty or brains?

Warm blanket or a hot drink?

Serious or silly?

Rich and famous or rich and unknown?

Art museum or history museum?

Vacation or staycation?

Fiction or non-fiction?

Dogs or cats

1. oh a swift question i see imma pick evermore bc i prefer the album cover but i have no idea what songs are in it

2. still waterrr

3. minimalism

4. shower

5. sweet

6. board games probably

7. join their family holibob

8. brains

9. oof both at the same time

10. silly

11. rich and unknown

12. art museum

13. fiction

14. CATS

[mononijikayu]

love means everything — ryomen sukuna.

“So, hey.” he said, voice dropping into that mellow drawl he only really used with you. “You always ask me what I’m doing in the off–season. You know, working out less, spoiling you more, trying to figure out the difference between a flat white and a cortado…” You laughed softly on the other end, and he smiled just hearing it. “But I never asked you. What about you, huh? What does your off-season look like, Starstuff–sensei?” You let out a breath, half a sigh, half a smile. “Off–season? You mean the mythical time when I’m not being held hostage by quantum models and satellite firmware?” He chuckled. “Yeah. That one. If it ever existed.”

Genre: Alternate Universe — Volleyball! AU;

Warning/s: General Rating, AFAB! Reader, Use of She/Her, Use of Female Centered Identification, Pet Names (Babe, My Love, Baby, Etc), Romance, Fluff, Humour, Love, Comfort/No Hurt, Established Relationship, Lovers, Dating, Feeling, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Idiots In Love, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Teasing, Healthy Relationship, Friendships, Profanity, Volleyball Pro! Sukuna, Astrophysicist! Reader, Fiancee! Sukuna, Fiancee! Reader;

Words: 8k words.

Note: this was inspired by some clips ive seen from people talking about their spouses. and then you have me listening to coffee by bts??? yeah, it works out. anyway, i got home (after a disasterous time in the airport) and am able to write again!!! i hope you enjoy this one!!! i love you all <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

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OFF SEASON WAS ALSO A TIME TO WORK ON OTHER THINGS REGARDING HIS EVER GROWING FAME. That’s why he was told to come here, since people wanted to ask to interview him and want to know more about him, especially now since he just won a gold medal with his team in the Olympics. 

The studio was sun drenched, sleek and minimalist, dotted with tasteful awards and blown up stills from the magazine’s latest photoshoot. Ryomen Sukuna, Olympic gold medalist and captain of Japan’s national volleyball team, was dressed in a relaxed open-collar shirt and slacks. 

He was more toned down from the striking editorial wear he'd posed in just an hour ago, which he liked better than anything else. It’s not that the editorial wear was bad. He was just more comfortable with this sort of fit. He should take a picture, though. You’d enjoy it more than he does. 

Though the cameras continued to roll silently from then and now as he went and sat there, waiting for the interview to begin. The interviewer, who was smiling behind the camera, flipped to a page in their notes.

“Alright, Sukuna–san.” The interviewer began, voice gentle and curious. “You’ve spoken about your post season training, your comeback for this upcoming national season, and your Olympic gold medal win on the international stage. But tell us a little about your off–season. What do you do when you’re not spiking balls into orbit?”

Sukuna chuckled, a lowly amused sound, one hand dragging lazily through his pink-tinted hair. “Honestly? Not much... At least, nothing glamorous. I like to be at home. I’m a homebody, more than people think. Just love being at home with my fiance and our dog Marin.”

“And what does home look like for you now? You recently got engaged, right?”

He smiled, really smiled this time and the camera caught the softening in his expression. “Yeah. I did. She’s a really smart astrophysicist.” he said, pride lacing his voice. “Which basically means her brain runs at the speed of light even when I’m still trying to find where I put my protein shaker in the morning.”

“She must be something then! But you must spend a lot with her during the off–season.” The interviewer laughed, prompting Sukuna to go on. 

“I mean, we both try to make sure we have time.” Sukuna retorts, smiling wider. “But of course, she also has work. I mean, off–season’s really when she gets busier. Her field doesn’t break, and they’ve got a pretty vital role where they work. So while I’m off the court, I’ve kind of made it my job to take care of everything at home. Make her comfortable when she gets home, y’know?”

“Oh? In what ways does an Olympic champion do that?”

“I got my barista license this past season. I just figured if I can read plays mid-air, I can learn how to make coffee right.”

The crew echoed quietly in awe behind the scenes. Ryomen Sukuna leaned forward a little, face warming at his revelation to all of them. The interviewer raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by Sukuna’s revelation. 

“A barista license, huh? That’s impressive! But I’ve got to ask, Sukuna–san. What else do you do to take care of her when she’s so busy?”

Sukuna chuckled, leaning back slightly in his chair, his demeanor relaxed but there was an underlying warmth in his eyes that couldn’t be overlooked. He was surely thinking about you right now with all he could.

“Well, like I said, she’s got this crazy demanding job.” Sukuna starts to say. “I know how it feels to be locked into something you love, where you don’t even notice the hours passing. So when she gets home, I try to make it feel like a break. I keep the house cozy, cook meals, set things up so she can just unwind without having to think about anything else.”

The interviewer nodded, clearly impressed by his thoughtfulness. “That sounds so sweet. You really seem to know what she needs.”

Sukuna smiled wider, a rare, genuine expression that softened his usual fierce persona. “I do. I pay attention. She doesn’t ask for much. Just a quiet space, a hot meal, and good coffee.” He grinned mischievously. “Oh, and sometimes I throw in a bit of flirting to remind her I’m still the same guy who makes her laugh.”

The interviewer chuckled, but there was a twinkle of curiosity. “So, back to this coffee thing. Is it just a way to spoil her, or do you have a deeper connection to it?”

“Honestly?” Sukuna leaned in a little, his voice dropping a touch lower. “It’s a way for me to make sure she’s taking care of herself. The first time I made her coffee when we were teenagers, I realized how much she needed it.”

“Oh, wow! It’s been that long?”

“Yeah, we’ve been together for so long. And at that time, I realized that she didn’t just need it.” He continues to say, a smile on his face. “It’s not just about the caffeine for her or for me. It’s this small moment of peace in her day. And I don’t want her to go without that, even if it’s just for a few minutes. So I got serious about learning how to make it perfect.”

“That’s actually such dedication, Sukuna–san!” The interviewer reiterated back in awe of him. “Some courses take quite a long time and by your words, it must have taken some time. You did it during the off season? Shouldn’t you be taking care of your health then, since you have to be training soon after that?”

He nodded. “Yeah. But that wasn’t anything too big of a big deal. There was a training course a few blocks away from home. I did it after my run and my training sessions. It wasn’t too bad. Just a few weeks.”

The interviewer’s eyes widened, clearly taken by how deeply Sukuna had thought about this. “That’s really thoughtful.”

“So now, every morning, no matter how early, I make breakfast. And coffee.” Sukuna laughs. "I don’t let my baby go without it. Even if it’s 4 a.m. and she’s still running numbers or checking satellite data or whatever astrophysicists do.” 

He grinned again, eyes glinting with something boyish. “She’ll say she doesn't need it, but she’ll always finish the whole cup. Then she’ll ask for more. I know how she likes it. No measurements anymore. I just know it by memory.”

“That’s a bold statement to make, Sukuna–san. It’s hard to cook by memory most of the time, without measurements.” The interviewer teased. 

There was a pause, the room a little quieter as his words settled. Sukuna shrugged, a playful glint in his eye. “It was a challenge, but I liked it. She does so much for me and the world. I really should pull my weight as a man, you know?”

“I bet she loves that. To have someone to rely on like that, with such a busy lifestyle.”

“She does! Even if she pouts, and never admits it. I can see it in her face.” He lets out a hearty laugh. “It’s the best part of my day, everyday. Where I can just love her right with the ways that I can do it. She’s always worth it.”

The interviewer gave a dreamy sigh, clearly smitten with the answer. “That’s… kind of perfect. Wish all men were like that.”

“I wish the same for all women out there, wait, cut that. Everyone deserves to be loved like that.” Sukuna says, scarlet eyes narrowing slightly serious. “If your partners refuse to love you like that, leave them! They’re not worth your love!”

“Yeah, I agree with that!”

Sukuna shrugged, but there was no hiding the fond curve at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t play about my girl, you know? I just love her so much.” he said simply. “Even in the off-season, love shouldn’t stop for my baby.”

The camera zoomed in a little towards the man with eyes full of love. The camera in this moment was capturing the gold medalist not as the usual overconfident towering champion.

Instead, he was a man quietly in love, tending to his morning ritual and waiting for his favorite person to take their first sip. The interviewer leaned in, clearly enchanted by the quiet domesticity wrapped around the Olympic athlete’s words.

“Aside from becoming a full-fledged barista for your fiancé.” they said with a light chuckle. “What else do you like to do during your off-season?”

Ryomen Sukuna tilted his head for a moment, as if considering the question seriously, then answered with that casual confidence of his. “There’s quite a bit, actually. I mean, I play around with games and stuff like that. But I think that’s boring compared to what I do with my fiancé.”

“Your world revolves around your fiancé, no?”

“Happily so! We’ve been together since we were kids. I always do everything to make her smile. Like, I try to make date nights happen. Or, well, date moments.” he said, lifting two fingers in air quotes. “As I said, her schedule’s kind of brutal. Astrophysics isn’t exactly a nine-to-five thing.” 

The interviewer nodded, intrigued. “There are weeks where the only time she’s home is for like what?—an hour around lunch, since her office is near our home too. So I started planning what I call ‘thirty-minute date lunches.’”

A soft chorus of awws rippled through the crew. Sukuna grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. He talks about it as much as he doesn't. Yet when it comes to you, everything is love. Your love is everything, his love is everything. Showing it to you was no problem to him.

“I’ll cook something quick but good. Set the balcony table. Nothing fancy, just… nice. I’ll make her laugh, get her to forget orbital calculations or whatever hell equations she’s still wrangling about. We’ll eat, talk, and they’ll be gone again. But I think those little pockets of time matter.”

There was a pause. At least just enough to let that picture settle. “And on the rare days they do get time off?” he continued, voice a little quieter now. “I'll go all in. Reservations, walks, bookstores, rooftop stargazing. Whatever makes my baby smile.”

“That probably eases her feelings a lot, helps ground her back to earth.”  The interviewer points out. “With such a demanding job, its meaningful to do something like this.”

Sukuna grins as he nods. “Yeah, it means a lot. But sometimes, space works too. She loves that stuff. Sometimes I’ll rent out this tiny planetarium near the research institute if it’s really been a rough week. Just for us. She’ll get to look up and talk about stars without worrying about the math behind it.”

The room fell silent, even the assistant with the clipboard frozen mid-scribble. The interviewer blinked, mouth parted like they’d briefly forgotten how to speak. “That’s… that’s unbelievably romantic.”

Sukuna smirked, unapologetically smug. “I told you. I’m off–season. I’ve got time to love my baby right.”

A crew member actually clutched their chest. The interviewer gave a sheepish, breathless laugh. “You’re setting the bar high, Sukuna–san.”

He leaned back in his chair with a shrug that somehow managed to be both cocky and affectionate. “Well, what can I say? I might be captain on court but she’s the gravity I orbit.”

The interview was still rolling, the room thick with soft lights and focused silence, when Ryomen Sukuna’s phone vibrated on the table just beside him.

He glanced at it briefly, just a flick of his scarlet eyes but the moment he saw your name on the screen, his whole posture changed. He smiled, subtle and immediate, the kind of smile that didn’t need to be big to be completely disarming.

“Ah—sorry, one sec.” he said, raising a hand toward the crew, already reaching for the phone. “It’s [name], my baby. It’s her only break window today.”

The interviewer blinked, then gave a quick nod. “Of course, yeah—go ahead.”

Ryomen Sukuna didn’t wait for the official pause. He stood up from the interview chair, walking a few steps away with the phone to his ear, voice already softening as he answered. He smiles as your breath echoes through the phone.

“My love, hi!”

“Hey, babe.” he murmured, leaning against a nearby counter. “You good? Just got a ten-minute break?”

Your voice continued to crack through the line, laced with fatigue and static from the lab but still bright enough to make his expression soften even more. He could see it fully in his head as he waits for you to reply.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry about me.” you said, sighing through what sounded like the background hum of machines. “We’re calibrating the prototype’s rotation module again. I’ve been staring at solar panels and trajectory mapping for six hours. I needed to hear your voice.”

Sukuna chuckled, low and warm, and ran a hand through his hair. “You're insane, you know that? Designing satellites while half running mission control on caffeine and half a protein bar.”

“You made me that protein bar, so whose fault is it, really?” you teased.

He laughed, eyes flicking up briefly at the camera crew still waiting politely across the room. “Hey, babe.” he said, gently, “I’m mid-interview, but I told them to wait. You’re more important. I’m all yours for the next ten minutes.”

You exhaled softly on the line. “You really didn’t have to—”

“Yes I did.” he cut in, voice firm but fond. “You never stop working. I’ll always make time when you finally stop.”

There was a beat of silence between you. There was nothing awkward, just weighted with how much the two of you knew without saying it. You know that he was not going to care, no matter what you say. You were going to be his priority, no matter what he’s doing. 

“So, babe.” he continued, grinning now. “You want the espresso rundown for today? I’ve got a new blend waiting for you when you get home. The new coffee beans just arrived!”

“You spoil me so much.” you whispered.

“You build satellites without rest. Let me have this.”

From across the room, the crew watched quietly. The interviewer, still seated, whispered to someone off-camera, “He’s totally gone for her..”

Sukuna didn’t even seem to notice. He was still leaning against the wall, smiling as he nodded at your words and replied back to him. He happily replies to you once again.

The crew was quietly resetting for the next segment when Ryomen Sukuna walked and leaned further against the counter, still on the phone with you. One hand tucked into his pocket, the other holding the phone a little tighter now, like it grounded him.

“So, hey.” he said, voice dropping into that mellow drawl he only really used with you. “You always ask me what I’m doing in the off–season. You know, working out less, spoiling you more, trying to figure out the difference between a flat white and a cortado…”

You laughed softly on the other end, and he smiled just hearing it. “But I never asked you. What about you, huh? What does your off-season look like, Starstuff–sensei?”

You let out a breath, half a sigh, half a smile. “Off–season? You mean the mythical time when I’m not being held hostage by quantum models and satellite firmware?”

He chuckled. “Yeah. That one. If it ever existed.”

There was a pause, like you had to actually think about the idea. Because rest didn’t come easy when your work literally reached the edges of space. But you know that if you could, if you had the chance to do it, then you know what you wanted to do.

“Honestly?” you said. “If I get downtime... I just want to be around you. Take care of you even more. That’s it. No labs, no screens, no math. Just... you. Even if it’s quiet. Especially if it’s quiet.”

Sukuna’s fingers curled a little around the edge of the counter, his heart doing that annoying little thing where it picked up speed without permission. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, my love.” you retorted, gleefully swooning about your fantasy. “You’re the only person I can sit next to in silence and feel like I’m actually resting. I don’t want a beach, or a trip, or some grand thing. Just the balcony with you. Or the kitchen. Or even the gym if you’re doing those dumb push–up challenges again. We can bring Marin too!”

He laughed, rich and warm, and tilted his head back to hide how much that meant. “Dumb push-up challenges.” he repeated, grinning. “Okay, that one’s on you for watching every rep like it was the Olympics all over again.”

“You make it hard not to stare, my love.” you said, and the flirt in your voice was clear enough that Sukuna had to bite back a smug little noise. “I’m crazy about you. You know that.”

“Stop, babe.” he said, eyes glinting. “I’m still mic’d up. I’ll short out the camera guy’s equipment if you keep that up.”

You giggled again, softer now. “I should get back to the lab in a minute.”

“I know, babe.” he murmured, glancing at the timer on the wall, already counting down the seconds you had left.

“Thirty seconds, my love.” you said before he could, reading his mind. “Guess it’s your turn to say something cheesy.”

He looked down for a beat, then spoke low. “Come home safe. Your coffee’s waiting. And I miss you, even in ten–minute pieces.”

Silence, again. But the kind that held a smile inside it. “Love you, my golden love.” you whispered.

“Love you more, my genius baby.” he replied, and the line clicked off.

Ryomen Sukuna turned back toward the crew, slipping his phone into his pocket like he hadn’t just been pulled halfway into orbit by your voice. “Sorry, you guys.” he said, settling back into the chair. “Where were we?”

The interviewer, still recovering, just blinked. “Right. Uh. You were saying something about cortados…”

But all anyone could think about was how the gold medalist, the fierce, untouchable captain had stars in his scarlet eyes for someone who charted galaxies for a living on the other side of town. And he never fell back to earth.

YOU WERE HAPPY AND NERVOUS ALL AT ONCE. The atmosphere was electric in the room filled with bright lights and excited reporters. The Japan Prize ceremony had wrapped up in a whirlwind of accolades, handshakes, and applause. 

You and your colleague, Dr. Maryu Hana, stood side by side, both holding your newly awarded prize with pride.  It had been a long, intense journey to get here, you both know that.

It was so many countless nights in the lab, endless calculations, and years of dedication to your groundbreaking research in astrophysics. But today, it had all paid off.

As the camera crew prepared to capture you and your partner, a bright eyed reporter turned toward you, eager to ask the questions that everyone was dying to hear. The reporter smiled brightly as they began to speak.

"Congratulations, [last name] – sensei, and of course, to you as well, Maryu–sensei. What an achievement! You've made such an impact with your work.”

You smiled, nodding at them. “Thank you so much.”

“But there’s one question that’s been on everyone’s mind: you’ve been very public about your relationship with someone who’s quite famous himself—Ryomen Sukuna, the Olympic gold medalist and national volleyball team captain. Could you tell us a little about how you balance such a high–profile relationship with your demanding career?"

Your heart warmed at the mention of Sukuna’s name, the very thought of him always bringing a soft smile to your face. You glanced at Hana, who was grinning knowingly. She had been there for quite some time now, watching the bond between you and Sukuna grow. She knows how you feel, how overwhelming love has consumed your heart.

“Well…..it’s a lot." you began, your voice steady but warm. "But I think it’s all about mutual support. Both of us have incredibly demanding careers, but we’ve learned to make time for each other, even if it's just small moments. When he's off–season, he's incredibly present, and when he's in the thick of competition, I try to be there in whatever way I can."

The reporter’s eyes widened, clearly intrigued. "It sounds like you and Sukuna–san really understand each other. What’s it like to have such a public figure as a partner?"

You smiled, your fingers absentmindedly brushing the edge of your award. “I don’t really think about him as ‘Ryomen Sukuna, the volleyball captain’. But at home, I just think of him as Sukuna."

"He's just your beloved Sukuna." The reporter supplies to you.

You nodded at them, smiling. "Exactly. He's just him. He's my fiancé. And Marin's cheerful energetic dad. He’s… the one who makes sure I’m well-fed with good coffee when I’m buried in research. He makes me laugh even when I’m on my hundredth sleepless night.”

The interviewer’s smile deepened as they jotted down a few notes. “You mentioned coffee, [last name] – sensei. We’ve heard rumors that Ryomen Sukuna’s barista skills have become legendary. Is that true?”

You laughed softly, unable to hide the fondness that bloomed in your chest at the thought of him. "He got his barista license during the off – season, yeah. He learned how to make the perfect cup of coffee just for me. "

"Which takes a lot, I heard he did at least twenty sessions cause he wanted to make it perfect!"

Well, he said he wanted to be able to spoil me during those rare moments when I can take a break. So, he did what he thinks he could for me. That's just love, you know?" You laugh softly, eyes full of tenderness. "Yes, I do get spoiled with the best coffee. Best in the country, best in the world, even.”

A soft chuckle passed through the crew, but the interviewer’s curiosity hadn’t been fully sated. “That sounds like a perfect balance. But what about the challenges? How do you two navigate the pressures of your individual careers?”

You took a deep breath, considering the question. “It’s not always easy. Both of us have high expectations for ourselves, and we’re driven by the work we do. But we’ve learned that we don’t always have to be together physically to support each other. Sometimes it’s just sending a text during a long day, making sure the other knows you’re thinking of them. When you’re in a partnership like that, it’s the small gestures that matter the most.”

Hana, who had been quietly listening with a knowing smile, nodded beside you. "I've seen the two of them quite a lot when Sukuna visits the lab. There’s a quiet understanding there. They both give a lot, and they both understand what the other needs, whether it’s space to work or moments of rest.”

The reporter’s expression softened, clearly moved by the connection between you and Sukuna. “It’s clear that you two have something special. And now, with such a significant achievement under your belt, what’s next for you both?”

You looked at the interviewer, then at Hana, and finally allowed your mind to wander toward Sukuna. You could almost picture him in the back of your mind. Sitting on the couch with your beloved dog son and waiting at home, the hum of the coffee machine brewing. He would stand up, your loving dog barking and asking you if you want coffee.

“Well…..” you said with a twinkle in your eyes. “I think we’ll both take some time to celebrate this. I mean, national title in the bag and a Japan Prize? It’s massive. But of course, the work never really stops for either of us. I’ll be back in the lab tomorrow, and he’ll be gearing up for his next season. But... I think we’ve got a good thing going. And no matter what comes next, we’ll continue supporting each other, no matter the stars we’re chasing."

The reporter grinned, a little mischievously this time. “Alright, you’ve painted such a sweet picture of life with Sukuna. But let’s be honest—no one’s perfect. What’s something he does that ticks you off a little… but you also can’t help being fond of?”

You laughed, the kind that comes from years of endearment wrapped in mild exasperation. “Oh, there’s definitely something.”

The reporter leaned in, intrigued. “Oh, please tell, sensei!”

“He has this thing, my love.” you began, eyes already gleaming with affection. “It’s where he refuses to fall asleep unless he’s holding my hand. Every single night. Doesn’t matter if it’s the middle of summer and we’re both melting into the mattress. So, he’ll lie there, completely still, not even pretending to sleep, just... waiting. Silently. Until I give in and reach over.”

You shook your head with a fond sigh. “It used to drive me crazy. I’d be tossing and turning, trying to stay cool, and he’s just lying there like some stubborn heat source, hand outstretched like I’m the one being difficult.”

The reporter chuckled, clearly loving every bit of it. “And now?”

“Now?” you smiled softly. “Now I can’t fall asleep either unless I know he’s holding my hand. I guess it just became our thing. I grumble about it every summer, but honestly… It's one of the little things that remind me how much he loves me. That quiet, constant presence. It’s annoying, it’s ridiculous, and it’s so him. And I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

The reporter scribbled something quickly, then looked up with a smile. “Sounds like the best kind of trouble.”

You nodded. “Yeah. He’s exactly that.”

The reporter’s smile lingered, soft and a little dreamy now. “That’s such a vivid image. I think everyone just collectively sighed at the thought of the Demon King refusing to sleep without holding your hand.”

You laughed again, this time covering your face briefly in mock embarrassment. “He’s going to kill me when he goes and watches this.”

“Worth it, isn’t it?” the reporter grinned. “It’s those tiny rituals that make a relationship feel real, y’know? Oh, but one last thing before we wrap. When you think about everything, the early mornings, the wins, the stress, the quiet nights with your hand in his….what do you think makes your love last?”

You paused, the question settling over you like a blanket. And for a moment, your expression softened into something raw and honest. You become flustered, but there was a smile on your face. “Gosh, that’s quite a big question.”

Hana smiles at you, tugging at your shoulder tenderly. “Just be honest about it. He’ll love that.”

“I think… it’s the choice, always has been.” you said quietly. “Every day, we choose each other. Even when we’re exhausted. Even when we argue. Even when it’s easier to turn away. He waits for me to hold his hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like he knows I’ll always reach back. And I do. That kind of trust? That’s what keeps us going.”

The room seemed still, like the story between the two of you had settled into the space, warm and undeniable. You smiled, already picturing the moment you’d get home. Everything about going home just makes you feel like life is beautiful, more beautiful than any utopia.

You imagine Sukuna on the couch, probably pretending he wasn’t waiting up. Your beloved dog wagging his tail, your favorite mug set beside the couch. And later, when the lights go out and the room is still, that familiar hand reaches for yours in the dark. You’d reach back. Always.

The interviewer smiled, clearly touched. "You’ve both certainly reached for the stars, and now you're holding them in your hands. Congratulations again, [last name] – sensei, and Maryu–sensei. And best wishes to both of you and your incredible futures."

The drive home was filled with a quiet kind of anticipation. The adrenaline of the ceremony still buzzed in your veins, and the weight of the Japan Prize still felt surreal, but all you could think about was the warm, steady presence of Ryomen Sukuna. 

But it was a stark contrast to the academic whirlwind you had just stepped out of, the cameras and interviews a distant echo now, replaced by thoughts of him. You wanted nothing more than to be home in his arms and feel his warmth only. 

When you walked through the door of your shared apartment, you were greeted by the familiar scent of something delicious wafting from the kitchen. The soft clink of pots and pans suggested that Sukuna was already hard at work. 

As you set down your bag, you caught sight of him in the kitchen. There was no longer the Olympian hero, but simply your beloved fiancé, who had rolled up his sleeves and was cooking with his usual focused intensity.

You smiled softly, the day’s chaos fading with every step toward him. He turned, sensing your presence, and when his eyes landed on you, there was no mistaking the pride and tenderness that filled them.

“Well, look who decided to grace me with her regal science genius presence, my baby.” Sukuna teased, a playful grin curling at the corners of his lips. He stepped forward, setting down the ladle he had been stirring with. “You deserve a victory lap, you know.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was already swelling at how normal this felt. In the midst of all the fame, the interviews, and the flashing lights, this was the real joy. It was just being together. This was more than anything, the best of your life.

“Victory lap?” you said with a soft laugh. “I think I’ve had enough of those for today. Besides, I know I’ll be back in the lab tomorrow. No time to rest on my laurels.”

Sukuna's expression softened, and he crossed the room in a few long strides to pull you into a gentle hug. His warmth seeped through your clothes, grounding you in the present. “You’ve earned it, babe. You and Hana both. You’re brilliant, and I’m proud of you.”

You chuckled against his chest, a lightness in your voice. “I’m just doing my job, my love.”

He pulled back slightly, his hands still on your shoulders. “Don’t downplay it. What you’re doing is incredible. The world’s got to catch up with you, genius.” His smile widened, as though that was a challenge he was ready to take on.

You shook your head fondly, your hand brushing over the front of his shirt before resting on his chest. “I think the world’s already caught up with me. Or maybe they’ve caught up with us.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Oh? And why’s that?”

“Because, my love,” you replied, lifting your head to meet his gaze with a smile of your own, “I’ve got an Olympic gold medalist, cook and barista at home. All in one. What more could I need?”

Sukuna’s scarlet eyes gleamed with pride. “I’d like to think that’s a pretty good package.”

He dropped a kiss on the top of your head before leading you over to the dining table, where a meal fit for a celebration awaited. The table was set simply but thoughtfully. The candles flickered in the center, casting a warm glow on the beautifully prepared dishes. 

You could tell he’d put in the effort, carefully selecting ingredients to make something you’d enjoy. It wasn’t the grandest of celebrations, but to you, it felt like everything you needed. He was everything you needed.

He pulled out your chair for you with a flourish, and you sat down, already anticipating the warmth of his homemade cooking. As he began serving the meal, he made sure to tell you all about his day, how he had been following the interview, how much he was cheering for you, how proud he was.

“Tell me about the next step for your project, babe.” Sukuna said, leaning forward with an almost childlike curiosity. “What comes after the prize? What’s next for you?”

You took a moment, considering the future. It was easy to get lost in the immediate tasks ahead, but the truth was, you had dreamed about this moment for so long. The recognition was important, of course, but it was the journey you shared with him that meant the most.

“I’m still figuring that out, all that, my love.” you admitted, taking a sip of the wine he’d poured for you. “But honestly? I think it’s time to start looking beyond just the work. Maybe we’ll finally take that trip we’ve been talking about for years.”

He gave a sly grin. “You mean the one where we actually relax for once?”

You nodded, leaning back in your chair, feeling the weight of the day finally lifting from your shoulders. “Yeah, I think it’s about time.”

He raised his glass in a silent toast, his eyes soft as they met yours. “To that wish!” he said, his voice steady and filled with promise. “And to you, my baby for life. For everything.”

You clink your glass against his, smiling wider. “And to us, for making it all work.”

He smiles back at you, slyly as it was gentle. “Always, to us.”

As the evening drew on, the two of you found yourselves nestled together on the couch, the quiet hum of the city outside filling the silence. The warm glow of the candles lingered, and the soft music played in the background, setting a mood that was calm and content. 

Ryomen Sukuna’s arm was draped around your shoulders, his long fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on your warm, tender skin as you leaned into his side, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“So, babe.” Sukuna said, his voice low but playful. “When are we packing our bags for that trip? Off–season still has time for us. You can ask for a break, hopefully. You know the one where we actually relax.”

You smiled, nuzzling into his shoulder as you thought about it. “I’m still not sure where I want to go. I’ve been so caught up in the work, I haven’t even had a chance to really think about it.”

“C’mon, babe.” he teased, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “We could go anywhere. Let’s pick a place that’s got nothing to do with astrophysics. No satellites, no stars, no quantum models. Just us.”

You chuckled softly. “You mean… no coffee? No espresso machines?”

Sukuna’s smirk deepened. “Well, I’m not giving up my barista status. But maybe I’ll take a break from making it and just let you enjoy it for once.”

You laughed at that, your hand resting on his chest. “Alright, deal. But what about you? You’re always so busy with your training. You never take a break either.”

He looked down at you, his gaze softening. “You’ve got a point. Maybe it’s time I take a break from everything too, you know? Even volleyball. No gym, no courts, just time for us. I’ll spend the whole trip just making sure you have everything you need.”

Your heart swelled at the thought, and you lifted your head to meet his gaze. “You know, you already do that every day. I don’t need a trip to feel special. Just being here with you is more than enough.”

Sukuna’s smirk softened into something tender. He pulled you closer, his lips brushing against the top of your head. “You’re the only one who thinks like that. But that’s why I love you, babe.”

For a moment, everything else faded almost suddenly. The world outside, the interviews, the awards. It was just you and Sukuna, a quiet evening shared between two people who had built something deeper than any career or recognition.

“I’m serious, my love.” you murmured, your voice quiet but firm. “I don’t need anything else. You’re all I need.”

His arms tightened around you, and for a moment, the only sound in the room was the soft beat of your hearts in sync. The weight of the world, the prize, and the noise of the outside world all faded into nothingness.

“I’ll keep that in mind, babe.” he whispered. “But I’m still taking you on that trip. Call your boss. We deserve it.”

You leaned into him again, your eyes fluttering closed. “Alright, alright. I’ll make it happen.”

“Good.” He says, placing a kiss against your hair. 

The room fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that spoke volumes without needing words. Sukuna didn’t ask for more than you were willing to give, and you didn’t ask for anything beyond the quiet, shared moments that were somehow the most significant.

You could already picture the trip in your mind. It was a place with no distractions, no deadlines, just time to breathe and be with each other. It wasn’t about where you went, but about the peace that came with being together. A perfect escape from the chaos.

As the night wore on, you both lingered in that peaceful space. The gentle rise and fall of Sukuna’s chest beneath your head was enough to lull you into a sense of comfort and safety. And when you finally stood up to get ready for bed, Sukuna’s hand slid into yours like it had always belonged there.

“I’ll make you coffee tomorrow morning, babe.” he said with a grin as you both walked to your bedroom. “But only if you let me spoil you with breakfast again.”

You smiled, nodding. “I think I can manage that.”

And with that, the night unfolded like any other peaceful evening at home with your beloved Sukuna. Just as always, it was quiet, comforting, and full of love. And it was everything you could ever want. 

epilogue

The sound of the roaring crowd reverberated through the television speakers, the tension in the air almost palpable as the game neared its final moments. The scoreboard flashed, Ryomen Sukuna’s team was trailing by just one point, the energy in the stadium crackling with anticipation. 

The ball soared through the air like a comet, heading straight toward the opposing team’s side. You leaned forward in your seat, your fingers tightening around the mug of coffee made by your love still in your hands.

You were back in the office once again, still doing calculations for the newest improvements on the satellite. From your quiet corner of the laboratory office, you could see it all unfolding on the screen: the powerful serves, the flawless blocks, the high-flying spikes. And there, amidst all the chaos, was Sukuna. 

His toned and tanned body, glowing from the vacation sun, flexed with the way he moved. His hair slightly tousled, his face set in that familiar determined expression, and his movements. It was fluid, almost effortless. It showed exactly why he was a gold medalist.

"You’ve got this, my love. Come on!" you whispered under your breath, even though you knew he couldn’t hear you. Still, it felt right to say it, to be part of this moment, even from afar.

The camera zoomed in on Sukuna as he took position for the game-deciding moment. The opposing team was ready for the block, but there was something in the way Sukuna stood, his eyes locked onto the ball. The quiet confidence he wore was contagious, even through the screen.

The ball came soaring toward him. He didn’t hesitate whatsoever. With a powerful, fluid motion, he leapt into the air. His spike cut through the tension like a blade through silk.

The crowd held its collective breath as hope continued to pounce against the heaviness of the unknown. Time seemed to slow as the ball collided with the perfect angle and flew past the blockers.

The stadium exploded with sound. Cheers, clapping, the echo of voices screaming his name. You grinned, watching his team members rush toward him in celebration.

Yet, your heart swelled most when Sukuna’s scarlet eyes locked onto the screen. It was brief, but in that moment, it felt like he was looking right at you.

“You did it, my love!” you whispered to yourself, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you clutched the coffee mug a little tighter. “I knew you would.”

The post-game interviews began, and you took a sip of your coffee, settling in to watch the typical frenzy of reporters bombarding him with questions. You were about to scroll through your phone when a new message popped up on your screen. You smiled when you saw the name.

“Victory’s ours. Now it’s your turn. Don’t think I forgot.”

It was a text from Sukuna. You quickly typed your response.

“I’ll be home in a bit. I’ll see you soon, my love! Same rules as before, right? No satellites, just us.”

A few moments passed before his reply came through.

“Exactly. I’ll be waiting for you, babe. With some hot milk this time.”

You put your phone down and watched as Ryomen Sukuna was handed the microphone. The interviewer was grinning, clearly excited by the energy surrounding him. He pushes away his wet fuschia hair back from falling against his eyes.

“So, Sukuna–san.” the reporter began to say. “You’ve just clinched the game with that impressive spike. Your team has been on fire this season, and you’re back with a vengeance after your Olympic gold medal. How does it feel to be on top once again?”

Sukuna’s usual smirk curled into his lips, but this time it softened, just slightly, when he spoke. “It feels good!” he said, his voice smooth and steady. “But you know, every win is just another step forward. It’s never enough to just get there. You keep pushing for more.”

“Of course, of course.” the reporter continued. “I know you’re planning to go home after this. But please do tell, because we’ve heard a lot about your off–season routine. How do you balance being one of the top athletes in the country with your personal life? Especially with someone like [last name] — sensei, the brilliant astrophysicist who just won the Japan Prize?”

Sukuna leaned back slightly, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips as he considered the question. His fingers drummed idly against the armrest.

But his eyes. They were sharp, steady, and glowing with quiet determination—remained locked on the interviewer.

“Well....lots of work. And devotion. In the mess, you always choose each other!” he began, voice low and sure. “Just as I hope for another hope for the gold, there should be hunger for love. Do everything for love. Make sure that hunger never really fades. You put in the hours, the blood, the sweat, just to sit back. And.........”

He paused for a beat, then let his eyes drift toward you across the city through the screen, something undeniably soft slipping into his gaze.

“Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot more long-term. I’ve got medals, trophies, records. But the real win? It’s being able to come home to peace. To her. And having life with her."

"So yeah, I’m still chasing the top. In love, in life, in work. But I’m also building something steady outside of the spotlight. Learning how to show up in all the quiet ways that matter most. That’s how it goes.”

The whole work room was quiet for a heartbeat, like everyone had collectively forgotten to breathe. Then, you found that Hana was on the verge of singing praises all the sudden.

“God, he’s so sweet!” Hana groaned, dramatically flopping onto the couch. “I wish my boyfriend was just like that!”

Kenji wheeled around to her with a laugh. “Good luck with that!”

Haruki raised his hands in surrender, eyes wide. More flustered than he had ever looked in his life. “Hey, I’m trying my best here!”

Kenji shot him a wicked grin. “Oh? Doesn’t sound like it’s enough!”

You stifled a laugh behind your hand as Hana groaned, “Don’t start, you two! this is why I need a Sukuna in my life.”

The interviewer chuckled at the chaos unfolding in the background before turning their attention back to Sukuna. “Well, it sounds like you’re more than just an athlete, you know? You’re the backbone of something really special. A perfect team, indeed. So what’s next? Another championship? Or something new entirely?”

Sukuna cracked his knuckles, that usual glint of fire returning to his expression. “Definitely another championship, for sure.” he said, voice low and certain. “But more than that? I want to set an example. Not just on the field, but off it too. Show that you can be relentless in your goals and soft where it counts. I’ve already got the most important win. The rest? That’s just icing.”

Your heart gave a little flutter, even after all this time. “God….”

And beside you, Hana whispered, “Seriously. Where do I order one of him?”

The room burst into laughter at Hana’s dramatic whisper, even the interviewer chuckling as they scribbled something into their notes. Sukuna glanced over, amused, one brow squirming up in that smug way of his.

The audience laughed, the room buzzing with energy from the live segment. Sukuna’s words continued to become a viral moment once again. You watched through it all.

You saw his smug grin, the teasing glint in his eye as he proudly declared his engagement once again. Even through the screen, his confidence was magnetic, almost obnoxiously charming.

Kenji was still whooping in the background. “Man, that was bold! You better be ready, he just threw you under the spotlight now!”

Hana looked at you with starry eyes. “Seriously! Do you know how many people just fell in love with him after that clip? You better keep a close grip on that ring!”

You smirked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Trust me. If anyone tried, they’d find out real quick, he’s not the only one who fights professionally.”

Everyone laughed, especially Haruki, who was now clinging to the armrest of the couch like it was a life preserver. “I’m just trying to live up to the standard, okay? Can we lower the bar back to human levels?”

“Nope, nope!” Hana said sweetly. “Not when that guy just announced he’s engaged and is a one woman man like a heartthrob lead in a drama.”

You laughed again, but there was a subtle softness in your gaze now as you looked at the ecstatic and eccentric form of Ryomen Sukuna’s image moving on screen.

Still gesturing and continuing with the interview, but still the corner of his mouth pulled into that familiar cocky grin. You couldn't help but let your eyes sparkle with intrigue and entertainment.

“Yeah, yeah.” you said, waving a hand dismissively, though your voice was warm. “And he comes with a whole lot of maintenance too you know. He takes care of me and loves me. You all hear the charming part, but you don’t see the sulking when I hide the junk food or when he loses one sock and swears the washing machine’s out to get him.”

Haruki blinked. “Wait—he loses socks?”

You nodded solemnly. “Like it’s a personal betrayal every single time.”

Hana gasped. “Even his flaws are adorable!”

Kenji clapped a hand over his heart. “That man is living on final boss energy and soft boy romance tropes. Unreal.”

The interviewer, still recovering from the wave of chaos, leaned forward with a knowing smile. “So, wedding soon?”

Ryomen Sukuna looked at the interviewer, smiling back. “Maybe.”

“Oh, so maybe….it means soon, right?” Hana asks you.

You paused, your voice dropping just a touch. “And I’ll take it. Every time.”

You smiled to yourself, the image already so clear in your mind. “Yeah. When the season’s over and this new paper’s out. We’ve got plans. Just really quiet ones. It’ll be something simple, something ours. But I already know… he’ll be waiting at the altar with that same stupid grin, holding out his hand like always.”

The room settled for a moment, the laughter and teasing softening into a warm hum of something quieter. You were sure it was something close to awe.

The screen behind you still showed Sukuna, his expression full of affection for you even as he continues to talk about his plans this season.

Maryu Hana leaned her head on your shoulder with a theatrical sigh, the kind only she could pull off with just the right amount of over the top flair. You like to think that she was truly ready to go and cry her eyes out.

“That’s it, wah. I believe in love again.” Her voice was touched with mock despair and genuine wonder, like she’d just witnessed a fairytale unfold in real time. 

Kenji, never one to be outdone in the dramatics department, wiped an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye with a shaky breath. This was all the sudden.

“I’m gonna cry and I don’t even like romance.” he sniffled, clutching at his chest as if Sukuna’s off-screen declaration had personally wounded him with its sweetness. “This is emotional damage, I wasn’t prepared!”

Laughter rippled through the room, light and affectionate. It was somewhat of a thing here whenever you and Sukuna were brought up.

This was just something people didn’t expect, seeing all his tattoos and all that. Yet the more they knew him, the more they all fell in love with his devotion for you. They were as hooked as you were. 

Haruki, still visibly flustered from being compared to Sukuna for the third time in ten minutes, finally dropped the act and threw up his hands in defeat. “Okay, but even I want to be invited to this wedding now, senpai.” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as his cheeks flushed pink.

Hana snapped her head toward him, lifting her head off your shoulder just long enough to squint suspiciously. “Figure out how you’ll propose to me first!” she huffed, jabbing a finger into his side with faux annoyance.

He winced and held up his hands like a man under interrogation. “I—I’m working on it!”

“You’ve had two years and not even a hint of a ring!” Hana grumbled, arms crossed as she pouted dramatically. “Meanwhile, Ryomen Sukuna is out here declaring eternal love on national TV like some legendary shojo manga lead.”

“Do you want me to compete with The Ryomen Sukuna?” Haruki squeaked, clearly panicking now. “Because that’s a losing game and you know it!”

Kenji leaned over with a smug grin, patting Haruki’s shoulder like a disappointed older brother. “He’s right. That man’s got cheat codes. You? You’re just trying not to burn pasta.”

The group burst into another wave of laughter as Haruki buried his face in his hands and groaned. It was another lovely day in the research lab. You sighed contently as you nodded to yourself. Life was indeed good.

You smiled as you watched your friends bicker and banter, your heart full. Even with Sukuna miles away, his presence had lit up the room like he was sitting right there beside you. And somewhere in all the laughter, the teasing, and the warmth.

For a moment, you knew felt it again. It was that familiar, steady pull. The quiet certainty that no matter how big the world got, no matter how loud the applause or how bright the spotlight.

It was your love, at its core, that remained soft and tender and at the center of it all. And most of all, you knew that man was entirely, irrevocably, yours.

[livelaughlovesubs]

~ 09.10 - Michael ~

Dom!reader x sub!michael - reader is gender neutral

Warning: thigh riding, dubcon (becomes consensual), dacryphilia, mind break, sub space, virgin Michael, corruption kink, slight hierophilia, public sex..?, a bit exhibitionist, teasing, kissing, making out, mentioned kidnapping, Michael cries a lot just saying, this is a little sad in the middle

~ Wordcount: 6.2k ~

Nini!rant: requested by @rae-pss - inspired by his evolution date, I SPEND TOO LONG ON THE PREMISE

Kinktober list 2024

It’s been a few days now that you’ve been brought to heaven by Raphael. He did promise you he’ll kidnap you one day, what you didn’t expect was for that ‘someday’ to happen this soon. As to how that happened? Well, the sky was clear that day, so much that he could see your silhouette from the edge of heaven. Leading to him darting down like a hawk who found its prey, and holding you between his arms before flying off again.

You didn’t even have time to yell or reach out to your companions, who were dumbfounded to the point of being frozen in place. It must have looked pretty stupid after all. Once you were brought to heaven, Raphael looked at you expectantly, as if waiting for a treat. “I’m not going to call you 'good boy', Rara, you kidnapped me.” You brushed him off, then sighed and asked, “I can’t go back down, huh?” He nodded his head. “As expected, fine, then show me around here.” This was a reaction he didn’t expect, why did you sound so done with everything—

The next few hours were spent with the little angel showing you around all excited, though he tried his hardest to not wag his tail. You followed closely, looking around this unfamiliar place. There weren’t any kind of fun things or shops in heaven, only houses for residents. It looked pretty depressing, especially because everything was rid of colors and purely white. When he asked if heaven ain’t better than hell or earth, you didn’t have the heart to answer honestly.

Soon you reached the last destination, his own place, where he would spend his nights. That’s when you found out all the seraphim’s sleep together, on the floor, with a thin cushion only. Compared to the devils, angels must have been real minimalists. To Raphael's dismay, Gabriel and Michael were also inside the building. You met Gabriel in the prayer room, where you almost got blinded by his halo. When your kidnapper saw him, he quickly tried to rush you out of the room, but Gabriel still noticed your presence.

“You brought Solomon’s descendant here? Why?” He shot you a glare, ready to put his scythe to use. You stared back all disgusted. “Don’t you dare, Gabriel. They belong to me.” He scoffed, and stood between you and the once-praying angel, to hide your form from his piercing gaze. The two of them were fighting like cats and dogs, basically not paying any attention to you anymore.

Which is why you took that opportunity to sneak away, tender steps as you backed out of the room. You aimlessly walked around their residence, exploring this new world, starting to pity their mundane lives. If you were to spend centuries in this boring place, where everything was white and monotone, you'd become a feral beast as well and probably lose your mind.

Like a miracle, you found something colorful, amid this white paradise. Carefully you stepped out of the building, into what seemed to be the garden. With a gentle swipe of your hand, you opened and closed the door, looking around to get familiar with your surroundings. There were flowers, everywhere, so many that it looked like straight out of a painting. It was simply beautiful. By the looks of it, this could be the garden of Eve that’s so infamous on earth, for this was a scenery so magnificent you didn’t anticipate it.

Heck, it looked a little out of place even, for so many colors to exist on this plain canvas that’s called heaven, as if god dropped a bucket of paint over this secret place. Slowly, you walked along the path to the huge apple tree in the middle. In front of it was a white pavilion, underneath it was a table with six chairs, but two of them had been stacked and pushed to the side.

“Beautiful…” you whispered breathlessly, eyes sparkling with admiration. There were so many kinds of flowers you’d expect the smell to be intense and intoxicating, but it wasn’t. This defied all logic, though you were kind of getting used to it by now. Only if you squeezed your eyes shut and focused solely on the smell, could you feel a sweet scent reach your nose, a scent you couldn’t quite describe. You tried to identify the smell and concentrated really hard, but to your surprise, you noticed a hint of sadness in the undertone of the scent.

Startled, you looked around, wondering if you were going crazy. Then you heard water flowing, no, to be more specific, someone watering the flowers. With even quieter steps, you approached the source of the noise and caught a glimpse of a figure with black hair. It must be Michael, you thought, and wanted to turn around and quickly leave before he tries to kill you, if not for him who mumbled, “Don’t run.” You froze in place, he didn’t even look up from the flowers, still tending to them.

You waited until he was done, nervously sweating as you clenched your hands. He wouldn’t kill you here, right? “Are you going to kill me?” Look at you, so bold, taking the initiative like this. Michael frowned, “Not here, I don’t want your filthy blood getting on my flowers.” So you were correct, Michael was the one who took care of those plants. “Ah.., ermm, understandable, those flowers are very pretty.”

The angel still had that distinct scorn on his face and a breath of arrogance, but he was beautiful nonetheless. His black hair stood out among all the colors, and the feathers of his wing that fluttered softly in the wind, as well as his right cheek which still hasn’t stopped crying. “Obviously they'd be pretty, I’m personally tending to them. Now get out, you are lucky I’m busy.” He walked past you, shoving you to the side and almost making you fall into the flowerbed, before filling up the watering can.

You stared at him emptily, then walked to the pavilion and sat down on one of the chairs, leaning back and watching him. “What do you think you are doing?” Michael then groaned, shooting you a furious look. “I’m looking at the flowers," You answered defiantly. “I thought I told you to get out—”

“Y/n!” Raphael’s voice rang through the garden, and he ran, almost tripping over Michael who was hovering near the entrance. “Urgh- don’t stand in my way, Michael.” When the black-haired angel heard that, he flared up, and his wing also flapped around very quickly, “Bloody hell Raphael, I was here first.” Quickly you stumbled across the yard and stopped the fight from escalating, grabbing the arm of the red angel, “Don’t fight, don’t fight, I’m here Rara. So, where did you want to take me?”

Raphael gave the other angel a final glare, before turning to you, "I haven't shown you your bedroom yet, come." Afterward, he walked away without looking back, holding your hand in his. Your gaze lingered on Michael for a while, longer than intended, before eventually turning around and following the much too enthusiastic boy.

That was your first day in heaven, and the days that followed weren’t all that different. It has become your daily routine to come to the garden, every single day. You were simply infatuated by the exotic flowers, and frankly, because you were curious about Michael. Why was he so dead on taking care of these flowers? Did he like pretty things, or was this simply his hobby? Every day, without fail, you’d bring some snacks and drinks with you and enjoy them under the pretty pavilion. Sometimes, more often than not, you’d be accompanied by Raphael as well.

Michael didn’t like that one bit, but since this garden belonged to all three seraphim’s, he couldn’t forbid Raphael from entering. Whenever you two spend time chatting and eating, he’d try to ignore you. Yet he couldn’t help but steal the occasional glances at the two of you being all lovely dovely. If you were to meet his face during these moments, he'd have an expression of pure disgust on his face, though he would never look away. Sometimes he also stares with an expression that wasn't disgust, it was something you couldn't put your finger on.

Particularly so when you’d pat and stroke Raphael on the head, hug him goodbye, or have him lay his head on your lap while you laugh all carefree. There was something about it, that seemed way too familiar, so intimate that it made him reminisce.

Back to the present, this time you came to the garden alone, which was rare, but not unusual. Michael hovered on the ground, the watering can placed next to him, he found it to be insane how used he’s gotten to your presence. Normally, he'd immediately luge for you and try to murder you, but now he's tolerating you for the sake of Raphael. You walked up to the angel, squatting, looking at the same batch of flowers he was looking at. He frowned at you for a split second, before turning his gaze back to the flowers.

“They are pretty, what’s their name?” You eventually asked, after admiring them for a good second. The flower had a pure white color, it hung from the thin stem, looking like multiple little bells. Michael stayed quiet for a moment, a gentle breeze running through his silky long hair, making them fly up a little. His soft feathers moved gently, proof of how soft they must be, you felt an impulse to reach out and touch them. He pondered over if he wanted to talk to the likes of you, then answered, “Lily of the valley.”

After hearing his answer, your eyes widened, you didn’t expect him to actually reply to you, and so calmly as well, it almost made you flustered. Wanting to continue the conversation, you quickly chirped, “Ah- it’s a pretty name.. erm, do these flowers have a meaning?” His head hung low when you voiced that question, the scent of sadness tickled your nose again.

Since you’ve spend so much time in the garden, you’ve come to understand it was the scent of Michael, who cried all the time. He debated with himself whether or not he should tell you, it was a little too intimate to tell strangers after all, yet there was something about you that made him feel weirdly at ease, and he whispered almost inaudibly, “They remind me of someone.” You didn’t need to ask twice to understand who he meant, instead, you chuckled. The boy grabbed your collar with an angry expression, and snapped, “What are you laughing at?”

You didn’t resist and explained, “Nothing, I’m not making fun of you. It was a bittersweet laugh.” Michael hesitated, the hand clutching your collar trembled slightly. “What do you mean.” He demanded, not even really asking. “It’s just… there’s someone I know who also plants flowers to remember his loved ones.” His grip loosened, and he pulled his hand back, you could swear you noticed his tears flow a little faster. “I think I know the name of the flower as well, it was— gardenia.”

He was a smart man, even if you beat around the bush he was fully aware of the person you meant. Seeing as you got him on your hook, it was time to spill the tea, just for the drama effect. You weren't sure where you were going with this, though you've always wanted to help these forsaken brothers, even if just a little, “but you know, he was a clumsy man. Even though he was the one who told me the name of the flower, he'd mistakenly call the flower ‘Michael’. What a silly man.”

Suddenly Michael darted towards you, tripping you over. You tried your best to not damage any of the plants around you, hands kept to your chest as the male got on top of you, pinning your head between his arms. Your head luckily didn't hit the stone floor, though his weight was a little uncomfortable. That's when you heard him scream, “Stop… acting like him..!”

“Hu-huh..?” The confusion was undeniable in your tone, and you tried to look at the man who was hovering over you. His hair blocked your sight, tickled your skin, and then wet droplets splashed onto your face. Were these... tears? Ah, probably from his- hold up, he was crying with both eyes. You gawked, surprised by his vulnerable emotional state. Guess angels were only neglected children after all. Gently, you brushed his hair to the side, seeing his eyes become watery and spilling hot tears.

Contrary to what you expected, he didn't deny your touch but instead leaned into it. His voice was quivering ever so little as he stated, “You knew from the start, didn’t you? So why.. why did you.. you and Raphael, you two..” his sobbing increased, blurring his sight with his tears. In the end, he stopped pinning you to the ground and straddled your lap.

With lingering doubts, you sat up, watching him wipe his tears with his now equally wet sleeves. You didn't know what came over you when you whispered subconsciously, “Beautiful.” It was what you thought at that moment, your most honest feelings. He stopped for a moment to look at you, then smiled bitterly, muttering, “You two are similar even in that regard..." Suddenly he hugged you, wrapping his arms around your neck and holding onto your back, clenching your clothes tightly.

Without missing a beat, he nuzzled into your neck, sobbing into your shoulder, all quietly, only the occasional hiccup could be heard slipping from his puffy lips. You knew all he needed was a shoulder to cry on, so you patted the back of his head, stroking through his soft locks, using your other hand to grab his waist. “It’s alright. And let me tell you something, I know Lucifer loves you just as dearly as you do." To your surprise he rubbed his wet cheek against yours, then turned to look at you, “…I guess you weren’t doing it on purpose?”

He had a meek smile on his face, an almost embarrassed expression. The tears didn’t stop flowing, though it seemed he calmed down a little. “I don’t know what you mean?” You retracted your hand from the back of his head and wiped his tears away. The angel stared at your fingers for a moment, then leaned even closer to you, uttering, “Lucifer Hyeong would have kissed them away.” For the next few seconds, you froze.

Why did he tell you that...? Was he hinting at you to do the same? Does that mean he thought you were similar to Lucifer?

“May I ask why you think so?” The question was a little out of pocket, but he knew what you tried to ask him. “You know what I... miss about Hyeong?" He looked down, clenching his teeth, muscles tensing before relaxing them again to finish his sentence, "Everything, I-I miss his laughter, his hugs, his soft strokes- And guess what you've been doing in front of me?” You went quiet at the last part, this time you knew exactly what he meant without further explanation.

Though you truly weren't doing it to spite him or with other ulterior motives, you were simply being yourself. The look you had was indescribable, it wasn’t quite pity, but more a cocktail of many emotions. “You…” he began once again, stopping to take a deep, shaky breath, to calm his erratic heart and stop the sobbing, before continuing, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I didn't mean to appear identical to-” you didn’t get the chance to end your speech when he interrupted you, “don’t you dare speak with my brother’s tone, while looking and acting like him.” At this point, you didn’t even know what to do, how could it be that everything you did reminded him of that person? Furthermore, you feared he was starting to have a twisted and possibly delusional image of you, to make you his substitute for Lucifer. You were sick of playing house after all that ordeal with the devils— especially Sitri.

All in all, no matter how similar their image of you and the person they meet in their dream is, you could never become the same. You were your own person, and not whatever others wanted you to be. The only thing you could think of doing was to somehow comfort him, this beautiful man who didn’t understand his own feelings, in a way his dearest older brother would never. So you hugged him, pulling him into a tight embrace, something he desperately wanted and needed.

The results were him crying even more frantically, weeping like a baby bird while he cried out, “I missed you so much, brother.” You didn't like his choice of words. After a while, you said silently, like a soft exhale of air that grazed his ears, “I’m not Lucifer.”

His grip on you tightened, but nothing else happened until you commented, "And I'm not your brother or Hyeong." The angel whined out, “Stop..” yet you didn’t, you followed your statement up with, “Not to mention I doubt Lucifer will ever come back to heaven.” Micheal looked like he was devastated, unable to accept the truth, he was basically begging you now as he yelled, “S-stop! I demand you to stop talking—” You shifted in your seat, now grabbing his wrists with one hand, “Michael, I think the reason he left is because it’s time for you to move on.”

He stayed completely still, arms now placed above his head, cheeks, and nose completely red while he wore this lost look in his eyes. “I’ll say it again, I’m not Lucifer. No matter how I act, I won’t be able to give you the same solace as he does.” Slowly, you guided his wrist to your lips, and bit down, leaving behind a red mark and a flustered Michael. He whimpered at the pain, taking his sweet time to snap back to reality as if he wanted to stay in his own fantasy world. “I can at most comfort you in other ways.” You then added, holding him closer with your free hand.

The boy didn’t struggle anymore, his pupils shook slightly, cheeks rosy as he hid it behind his wing. His face has been decorated with those pretty, shiny water droplets, some even dried off already. “W-what..?” Before he could prepare himself for what you had in store for him, you guided his body to move back and forth on your lap. He almost shrieked at the sudden movement, and then he stared at you with a baffled look.

If he had to describe it, it felt like he was riding a horse, but why were you doing this? Rubbing his metallic chastity belt against your skin, wasn't it uncomfortable? “Hold on to me.” You then said, and he became even more confused. Nonetheless, he obliged all obediently, grabbing your shoulders but taking care to not use too much strength.

This shift in behavior wasn’t because of you, he was still seeing you as that person, as him. With gritted teeth, you pulled down the zipper to his pants, and his cheeks flushed immediately. “Wait! What do you think you are doing?!!” He screamed, obviously not prepared for that bold move of yours. The boy was being so loud your eardrums almost exploded.

Judging by his reaction, you were achieving the effect you wanted, breaking down his idolized version of you, “I’m guessing Lucifer never taught you sex education~?” You joked and stared at his chastity belt. It’s the second one you’ve seen, the first one was Raphael’s. This one looked a little different in shape and color, it was golden, like most of the accessories of Michael. Despite it being a few weeks already, you still remembered clearly how you unlocked that device, which is why it didn’t take long until you freed the poor member of the male from its cage.

Michael stared down at you, unmoving, eyes widened while being as red as a tomato. When he heard the click of the lock, he felt his heart leap for a second. “No- no way.. you opened this? So easily?” He blushed and seemed slightly disgusted by the looks of his erection, which was leaking glowing precum down his shaft. This is also his first time seeing his dick, you almost forgot about the fact, that angels are basically all virgins. Gosh, how cute~

With one pull, you threw his chastity belt to the side, staring at his half-erect dick. “Yep. And- oh my? You are way bigger than your brother?” To be honest, you weren’t even sure if you were impressed or terrified. Michael hid his face with the back of his palm, thighs instinctively trying to squeeze close when a gust of wind blew against his now fully hard cock, though of course there weren't any results, considering he was straddling your thighs.

“No, d-don’t look..! No one should... expect god…” more tears swelled up in his eyes, he was also embarrassed at doing it outside, here so many people could catch you two. It would be blasphemy if anyone saw him in this state, he'd probably rip off his own wings and join his brother in hell if that happened! Knowing that you almost felt bad for him, for all these sexually frustrated and very much depraved creatures.

“Shh, don’t worry, I’ll just help you jack one off. You’ll feel much better afterward.” With that being said, you got to work. Fingers sinking into his smooth flesh, moving him around on your thigh, making him rub the underside of his most intimate parts against your clothes legs. It felt so rough against his perfect and soft skin, and on top of all of it, it felt so weird and so hot. He mewled, unable to fathom all these sensations, eyes searching for some guidance from you. Though you deliberately ignored him, gliding him across your thigh, trying to stimulate the male.

He began trashing around, resisting, pushing you away while crying out, "No! H-hyeong would never do something sinful like this..!! You stop these.. unholy and inappropriate acts!" You only laughed in response, asking teasingly, "But tell me, Michael, doesn't this feel good?" Completely treating his request like some passing breeze, feeling grateful that he was still capable of making his own judgment.

"I- no, I'm not answering you?! Are you trying to slander my brother?" He sounded just a tiny bit angry with you, trying hard to ignore the building arousal in his lower abdomen. "No, I never claimed to be him. Do you understand what I'm getting at, Michael?" His mouth hung open, as if he wanted to say something, yet not a single word escaped his throat. On the other hand, a series of moans and choked-out whimpers reached your ears. "Nghh... ahHh- I, s-still, sto- hnNghhh!"

Not good, he was being swept up by those hellish sentiments, by the temptations of the flesh. Why did it have to feel so hot, and be so brain-numbing? Poor birdy could barely think straight after all that edging on your part. You were way too perverted and too much of a tease to be his kind and gentle Hyeong!

"Y-y/n...! Please, I-I don't want this... it's scary, stop..!" At last, he resulted to pleading, unable to deal with the weight of his emotions clashing and fighting internally. It was the truth that he sought comfort by your hands and wanted you to fill the hole in his heart, but then you went ahead and turned the table at him. He didn't want to be touched by someone who wasn't god... and Lucifer. He also didn't want his first sexual encounter to be with you, or if it had to be done, out in the open in a place like this, where he'll defile all these pure and pretty flowers.

"Don't touch me..!" Even though he was so deadbeat on his mindset, he didn't try to push you away, was it out of consideration for the flowers or because he didn't dare hurt you after seeing Lucifer in you? No, hardly so, you could see right through his facade. He was probably thinking about how awful this situation was, but you knew he was lying to himself.

To prove your point, you stopped, leaning back and using your arms to support yourself off the ground, you apologized almost half-heartedly, "Alright, sorry then, I won't touch you. So, you do as you see fit. Climb off if that's what you truly want." Once again you surprised the angel with your actions, he didn't think you'd be so willing.

Only when you stopped pleasuring him he noticed that he actually missed the bubbly and warm feeling of your touch or that his erection was throbbing almost painfully so. He glanced down in disbelief, humiliation filling his senses. If he had to be blunt he had absolutely no idea how to react to this, so he did the only thing he could think of, doing whatever you did. Mind you his brain was already turned into mush due to all the tension from before.

Skeptically, he rolled his hips along your thighs, squeezing his lips shut in a poor attempt to stiffen his moans. At this rate, he was going to overstimulate himself since he didn't know what he was doing. Pride thrown out of the window while he bit back his shame, desperately grinding against you with that flushed look on his face. Small, muffled whines still seeped through his almost, almost water-tight defense. "Don't you dare... say anything... mhm!!"

He knew how hypocritical he was being, doing exactly what he apparently ‘hated’, that's why he didn't want to hear any mean comments from You. But his body moved on its own, he couldn't stop chasing after his own bliss. Why did it have to feel so good anyway? To drag his cock along your thigh, grinding his pre into your clothes... You watched the show unfold with attentive eyes, smirking as if you were saying, "Told ya". His grip on your shoulders got tighter, almost painful to bear.

Then he laid his forehead against the crook of your neck, body shivering tremendously while he groaned, "I-I... bloody hell... you did this to me." That angelic voice of his grazed your skin, hot and laced with need. "I don't know why I'm.. hngg, reacting l-like this..." He continued, egging you on, not getting to the point. "So, what are you getting at?" Again, you were aware of what he wanted from you, but you wanted to hear it from him personally.

“What I mean is- you... you take over!” Suddenly he leaned back to stare right into your eyes, he was still crying from both eyes. This time you were sure it wasn't due to his self-pity and sadness. You reached out for his cheek, cupping his face. His skin was hot, so much so that your hand felt ice cold against him. He leaned into your touch, lips squeezed into a pout, brows furrowed as he held his gaze low. "I thought you didn't like it?" You cooed, rubbing his tears away with your thumb.

Michael stayed quiet, he couldn't argue with that, he was the one that desperately pushed your touch away. That's why he just slumped back against you, mumbling, "P-please... I don't like— this heat either... make it go away..." Just to mess with him some more, you hummed, tilting your head to the side, "Hmm, I don't know, can't you do it yourself?" Now the angel was gritting his teeth, you wondered if you went too far. Much to your surprise, he pulled you into a deep, clumsy kiss.

The salty taste of his tears grazed your lips, his tongue messily stumbled into your mouth and he slurped and swindled it around aimlessly. You stayed still for a second, partly due to you getting startled, as well as you being in awe about how bad he was at kissing. Perhaps it was his first kiss, how cute, he's willingly gifting it to you. Since he has given you something so valuable, you had to show him a good time now, ain't that right?

Slowly, to not scare him, you moved your tongue as well, meeting his eager kiss with a smile on your lips. Closing your eyes to fully immerse yourself, only after seeing the embarrassed look on his blushy features. While he was distracted, you placed your graceful fingers around his slim waist again, giving him little instruction on what to do. Then, once he got into a rhythm, you moved your leg to meet his thrusts.

His heat and wetness already seeped through your pants, soaking your skin with his sticky substances. Yet you didn't bother, focusing solely on him and his pleasure. After a few sucks on your side, against his willing body, he started moaning into the kiss. Long, drawn-out moans that ended with a high-pitched whine for more, "ahhnnngh.. mhmm-uhm!!"

His hips suddenly jerked forwards, his poor cock was leaking and twitching helplessly, wagging around like some kind of tail. The neglect was impossible to overlook. May it be for his red, swollen tip that was decorated with glistening pearls of pre, or his bulging veins that looked like they were about to pop, it didn't matter. All he knew was he wanted more of this ecstatic, hypnotizing feeling that only you could provide.

Gradually, his movements became faster and more sloppy, your grip on him was so tight that his skin bruised. He choked, gagging on your tongue, throwing his head back to break the kiss. This was too much, too intense..! That poor birdy needs a break, or his brain will melt! Despite that, you grabbed him by his wing and forced him to stay still, lips crashing against his again. The feeling of your hand on his wing only intensified his pleasure, making him more erratic as electricity coursed through him.

You weren't done nor satisfied yet, hence you shoved your tongue down his throat again. "Mffhhmm!! ♡♡~! Y/n- I- nghhH..!!" This sensation, of something tingling inside him, threatened to burst at any rate. How was he supposed to hold himself back? All resistance fell on deaf ears and crumbled, and he felt himself being brought over the edge of bliss and sanity. For a moment that was supposed to be forbidden for him, or downright sinful, he felt strangely warm inside.

He hadn't felt this fuzzy and at ease for a long time, and so, he did what his instincts told him, he embraced the feeling. Tears poured from his eyes like little waterfalls, his face ruined to the point of being unrecognizable, and his wing flapping around in a pathetic attempt to balance out the pleasure. He grabbed a fistful of your clothes, almost digging holes into them as he relentlessly rode your thigh. He felt weak, so powerless like never.

His knees have been shaking for quite some time now. If it wasn't for your hands on his hips, he would have slumped forward and fallen into your embrace, that was how weak he was. More sweet whispers of pleasure slipped from his swollen lips, sending a tingle down your spine. "Hmmm... m' su-sumthin's cummin'..!♥︎♡!!" Michael tried to warn you, head so empty he couldn't form proper sentences. Not to mention you were still making out with him, rendering it almost impossible for him to speak coherently.

His dick twitched around a few times again, the tip was rather rubbing against your belly than your thighs, leaving behind strings of pre in its wake. Finally, after an eternity of tension and promised pleasures, he felt himself reaching his limit. The feeling was nothing he had ever experienced before, he couldn't even try to put it into words that was how mind-blowing it was. With one last meek try to warn you, which ended up sounding more like a high-pitched shriek of bliss and pure, primal ecstasy, he came all over the two of you.

“MhNMHHH~ aaAhHHnNNGGh♡♡♥︎♡♥︎～!!” Tridal waves of pleasure surged through his veins, making him shudder due to the intensity. His toes curled, wing flapping uncontrollably as thick ropes of white cum spurt out of his way too-overstimulated dick. It splattered across your clothes, and his as well. Judging by the amount of glowing fluids he shot out, he must have been pent up. Once again, you took the first orgasm ever of an angel, and it felt weirdly fun.

All this pleasure was too much for an inexperienced virgin angel like him~ his mind basically blanked out during his ejaculation, causing him to whimper and groan like some animal in heat, "Ah- uhm.? Nghh, uh-hnggh ♥︎♡♡!" He never knew there was pleasure like this, this amazing and tingly. It was just like the day he lost his eye.

You weren't even sure what he was trying to say, maybe nothing, maybe insults, whatever it was you didn't really care. Instead, you were fascinated by how different yet similar his reaction was to Raphael's. So it was true that angels were as bland as their buildings, with no real knowledge of what the pleasures of the flesh meant. You smiled, looking at his wrecked face. Still as red as ever, with dried-out tears stuck to his skin, and drool hanging out of his mouth, he has never looked more beautiful.

His wing has also calmed down, it was almost limping next to his head. Eyes still a little unfocused as he slowly regained his clarity, moving his hand to his face to rub his puffy eyes. That silky, untangled hair was a little messy more, and his clothes wrinkled. "That was a little too much stimulation for your first, huh?" You joked, and he didn't have the strength to give you a sassy answer, but he glared at you nonetheless. It was more of an I'm-too-tired-for-this glare than anything else though.

You didn't move from your spot, not wanting to rush him, giving him enough time to collect himself until he deemed himself ready to stand up from your lap. In the meantime, you noticed that the sad scent that radiated from him has dissipated, at least for now. Somehow, you felt really proud of yourself for that, smiling under your breath as you placed a kiss on his forehead.

Michael squeezed his eyes with a pout but didn't resist. His argument or defense for himself was that he was too worn out and tired, for now, and that he had enough opportunities to kill you in the future. It was nothing else but excuses, considering angels are just delusional beings at their core. As soon as he stood up on his wobbly legs, you wanted to ask how he was doing, that's when Raphael emerged from behind the doorframe.

His head peeked into the garden as he smirked darkly, mischievously even. "Pff, you look like a horny beast, Michael. Was it fun, screaming so loud I could hear your disgraceful moaning from miles away?" You stared at the blond angel with a skeptical look, he was acting as if he didn't act just the same. Then, he turned to you and said, "Anyway, y/n, you, come with me. I have something to show you." Now he stood in the doorframe with his entire figure, leaned against it.

You stood up from where you were previously sitting, and answered all carefree as you walked past him, "Okay ~ lemme get changed first." Raphael made way for you when you walked by and nodded in acknowledgment. Once you were gone, he made eye contact with his dear brother and had a slight scorn on his face. Michael frowned back at him, brushing off the dust from his clothes, even though there were bigger problems about his appearance than that. Like his disheveled hair, or the traces of shining cum on his shirt.

“What, don't like the fact they aren't only yours?” After a quick glaring contest, Michael spoke up, a sneer present in his voice. He got closer to Raphael, now standing right in front of him, crossing his arms around his chest. Though it seemed he had recovered very quickly, his legs and knees were still a little uneasy. "...I can't say I'm pleased with it, but they are free to do as they wish." The Blondie said, averting his gaze for a split second.

“How unusual of you, sharing was never your strong point.” The black-haired seraphim commented. A snarky laugh erupted from the red angel, and he scoffed, "You are one to talk." Afterward, he turned around, waving his hand as if to say goodbye, "It's a shame that I'm not the only angel who has experienced god's given pleasure now, but oh well, I'm still their first, remember it well." With that, Raphael disappeared into the building, leaving Michael standing at the entrance to the garden, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth.

Tags: @shianarou @ghostiegirl56 @thisisnotangel @ghostgoosygoose @aghrentroplayer @i-dont-fooken-know @chuuya-brainrot @allyfoxglove @thigh-o-saur @fallenthemisticalyingyang @fem-dom-roze

Nini!rant 2.0:

I found many different translations for the meaning of the mentioned flowers, but these are the ones that I liked best.

Lily of the valley: purity, happiness, nostalgia, sadness, pain, death

According to the bible, lily of the valley is most infamously mentioned in the Song of Solomon (2:11). It’s also sometimes used as a metaphor or comparison to Jesus Christ, due to its sweet scent and white colour (Ephesians 5:2). White, which is knows to be a sin-free colour, used to describe a person without sin -> Michael still sees luci as a person without sin

There’s also a saying that lilies are the tallest of flowers, but hangs its head down, symbolising humbleness (Philippians 2:6~8). Also it’s supposed to have a lot of medical qualities, so it fits lucifer, who’s a healer.

Gardenia: purity, harmony, sweetness, joy, secret love

Here, it’s also qualities and things lucifer wishes for Michael. Like harmony, joy. Then, how he sees him and thinks about him. I thought it’d be cute haha

I choose them very carefully, there was quite a lot of thought behind them, that’s why it got its own special mention here :]

[tsukumomei]

OKOKOK in my mind in the “puppy love” fic, reader is moving to spain

and then three years later sae comes to spain cause he gets scouted by re al you know the story

and so they meet again ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 (they have cute “dates” if you will, where she shows him around spain and what not 🤭)

now idk if you’re taking requests at the moment, or even want to write a part two for this, but i (and many others i feel like) would LOVE to see this!

no force though, if you do wish to write it take your time, and if you don’t it’s all fine too!

much love, xoxo 💋

a/n: This is actually insane because this is EXACTLY what I had in mind for a bonus part! I was originally going to end it when they saw each other again, but I took your request and wrote about their dates too. Enjoy! Mwah! I wouldn’t consider this a part 2, though—if I ever write one, it’ll still be from Rin’s POV. But I’m open to writing more bonus parts for this fic, so feel free to send me an ask! ^^

—RIGHT WHERE WE LEFT OFF

ft. Sae Itoshi

a bonus chapter for Puppy Love

synposis: Sae moves to Madrid after getting scouted by Real, but he has two problems. One—he hates it. The city feels unfamiliar, foreign, nothing like home. Two—he’s determined to forget about you. But the harder he tries, the more his own mind betrays him—because no matter what he does, everything leads him right back to you. wc: 3.1 k

The shuffling in Sae’s carry-on grows more frantic as he impatiently searches for that notebook from you.

It was the first thing he stuffed into his bag.

Flipping through the worn pages, his eyes finally land on the last one—covered in messy scribbles, but the only thing that stands out is a single line written in red ink at the bottom:

"Wait for me. ❤️ Y/N"

Sae presses his thumb against the words, as if touching them could somehow bring back the past. Could somehow make you feel real again.

He leans back into his seat, staring out at the endless stretch of sky beyond the plane window, but it’s not Madrid he’s thinking about. It’s you.

This morning, back at the house, he’d been kicking a soccer ball around the backyard, the steady thud of leather against concrete filling the quiet air. Rin was there too, watching him with a knowing look before finally speaking up.

"Nii-chan, it was just puppy love."

Maybe it was. Maybe Rin was right.

But if it was just puppy love, why is it still lingering?

Why did he still worry—that if you ever came back, that you’d be mad at him for not being there?

It’s been three years.

The chances of seeing you again were close to impossible.

—

Sae steps into his new apartment in Madrid, rolling his suitcase inside as his manager gestures around the space.

“This is your living room,” his manager begins, flipping on the lights. The apartment is modern, minimalistic—exactly what Sae expected. “Kitchen’s over there. Fridge is stocked for now, but you’ll need to do your own groceries after this week.”

Sae nods, setting his bag neatly by the couch.

“The bedroom’s down the hall,” the manager continues, walking ahead. “Bathroom’s connected. There’s a desk if you need to study or review game footage. Wi-Fi’s already set up.”

Sae peeks into the bedroom—plain, clean, nothing extravagant. Just a bed, a nightstand, and a small window overlooking the street below.

“You’re across the hall?” Sae asks as they return to the main area.

“Yeah,” his manager confirms, crossing. “If you need anything, just knock.”

Sae scoffs lightly. “I’ll be fine.”

His manager gives him a once-over, then exhales. “Good. Then I’ll leave you to settle in.”

With that, the manager steps out, leaving Sae alone.

The moment the door clicks shut, Sae gets to work. He unzips his luggage, methodically putting his clothes away, setting his toiletries in the bathroom, and neatly stacking his training gear by the closet. He takes mental notes of what he needs—more food, basic supplies, maybe an extra pillow.

Once everything is in place, he pulls out his phone and dials home.

His mother picks up almost immediately. “Sae?”

“I just landed and got to the apartment,” he informs her, his voice steady. “Everything’s fine.”

“That’s good,” she says warmly. “Have you eaten?”

“I will soon.”

“Don’t just eat whatever’s fastest. Make sure you’re getting proper meals.”

Sae hums in acknowledgment before adding, “Tell Dad I made it safely. And Rin, too.”

“Of course,” his mother says. There’s a brief pause, then a softer, knowing tone in her voice. “It feels real now, doesn’t it?”

Sae leans against the counter, staring at the empty space around him. His new home. His new life.

“Yeah,” he murmurs.

After a few more exchanges, he hangs up, setting his phone aside.

His eyes drift to his carry-on, to the one thing he hadn’t put away yet.

The notebook.

The worn cover, the slightly frayed edges—he traces them with his fingers before flipping it open once again. The pages are filled with your handwriting, messy yet familiar, scrawled with thoughts and doodles from years ago.

It’s ridiculous, really. He hasn’t seen you in three years. He has no idea where you are, if you’re still in the same country, if you even remember him the way he remembers you.

But memories flood in anyway. The afternoons spent at the park, your determined expression when you first crashed his soccer game, the way you always talked too much but somehow, he never minded. The way you scribbled on his arm once with the same red ink you used to write—

"Wait for me. ❤️ y/n"

Sae exhales sharply and shuts the notebook.

Maybe it really was just puppy love.

He stands, grabs his wallet, and heads for the door.

He needs to get out, get familiar with the city. He’s going to live here now, after all.

—

The city is foreign, unfamiliar—Sae hates it.

He was never one for traveling. The only reason he’s here is to play soccer at an international level, but outside of that, it feels suffocating in a way he never expected.

The streets are too loud yet too quiet at the same time. He doesn’t understand the conversations happening around him, the unfamiliar syllables blending into meaningless noise. The people pass by in a blur, all strangers, none of them acknowledging him beyond quick  glances.

It’s not like he’s stupid enough to get scammed—he’s careful, always aware of his surroundings. But that doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t belong here. It doesn’t change how frustrating it is to have all this free time and nowhere to go, no one to turn to.

The city is alive, buzzing with movement, but it only makes the loneliness feel sharper.

—

Today marks his second week in Madrid.

Sae realizes just how useless he is when it comes to directions.

The sun is already beginning to set, casting a golden glow over Madrid, and he has no idea where he is.

The street signs might as well be in a foreign language—which, technically, they are. He squints at them, but the unfamiliar words blur together, useless in helping him find his way. And as for Spanish? Well, he knows about as much as a toddler forming his first sentence.

Great.

Of course, it’s at a time like this that he remembers you.

Because you were always the human GPS between the two of you, navigating streets like you had a built-in map inside your head. You always knew the right turns to take, the fastest shortcuts.

And right now? Right now, he is the one most in need of that skill.

Rin thinks Sae is perfect, so he probably doesn’t even know about this little flaw of his.

Sae scoffs to himself, shaking his head. It’s ridiculous that, even now, when he’s supposed to be moving on, he still finds himself thinking about you.

He exhales sharply, pushing the thoughts away.

Enough.

With renewed determination, Sae steps onto the crosswalk, telling himself—again—that it’s time to leave his childhood love in the past.

But by the time he reaches the middle, doubt creeps in—just enough for him to hesitate, just enough for him to misstep.

And just enough for him to accidentally bump into someone walking from the opposite direction.

"Perdón," the girl mutters, barely sparing him a glance—until she does.

She stops short, eyes widening in surprise.

"Oh."

Sae blinks.

"It’s you."

For a moment, the city fades into the background. The people rushing past, the hum of conversation, the faint honking of impatient drivers—it all disappears.

You look different now. Your hair is dyed, a little wavier than before. A stylish bag hangs off your shoulder, outfit effortlessly put together in a way that makes you stand out even in the middle of Madrid.

But to him, you’re still the same stubborn girl who once barged into his soccer game with Rin, the one who never asked for permission—just demanded a pass like you belonged there. The one who never looked at him like everyone else did.

Your eyes are the same. That’s what catches him the most. Time has changed a lot of things, but not that. They still hold the same warmth, the same quiet confidence.

Sae wonders if he looks different to you, too. If you notice the way his shoulders have grown broader, the way the exhaustion lingers under his eyes. If you can tell that beneath all the fame and titles, there’s still a part of him that never stopped waiting for you.

Neither of you speak. Just stood there, caught in something neither of you were prepared for.

Sae exhales, then—without thinking—extends his hand toward you

But before you can take it, a sharp whistle cuts through the air.

"¡Oye! Move it!"

The traffic officer’s whistle cuts through the air, snapping both of you out of your daze.

Startled, you both turn at the same time, realizing the light has already turned green—and you’re still standing in the middle of the crosswalk.

Reality has always had a way of interrupting you two, hasn’t it?

Sae clenches his jaw, frustration flickering across his face. Meanwhile, you weren’t handling it any better—because instead of just walking away like a normal person, you were flipping off the traffic officer and hurling a wooden spoon at him.

Where did you even get that? Sae has no idea. And honestly, he’s not sure he wants to.

But then he feels you grab his arm, yanking him across the street as you break into a run—both of you fleeing from the traffic officer, who Sae can only assume is cursing you out in rapid Spanish.

And just like that, his expression softens.

—

“Whew, that was close,” you say between heavy breaths, still catching your breath from all that running.

Sae glances at you, unimpressed. “Maybe if you didn’t throw a spoon at him, we wouldn’t have to run.”

You roll your eyes, waving him off. “Oh, please. That guy already hates me. This isn’t even the first time, you know.”

Sae raises a brow. “Not surprised.”

You nudge him with your elbow. “Hey! Rude.”

He exhales sharply, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “What did you do to piss him off before?”

You smirk, tilting your head playfully. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Sae gives you a look—unamused but intrigued nonetheless. “I would, actually.”

You grin, pretending to think. “Let’s just say… it involved a churro cart, an old lady, and a very, very unfortunate slip on my part.”

Sae stares at you for a moment before shaking his head. “You’re a menace.” 

You flash him a cheeky smile. “And yet, here you are, running away from traffic officers with me.”

He huffs but doesn’t argue. Because, somehow, you’re right—because he’s relieved that he can finally talk to someone other than his manager, and just as relieved to see that you haven’t changed at all.

Isn’t it ironic? The very day he decides to finally let go of your memory, fate throws you right back into his life.

But something nags at him. You haven’t asked about Madrid, about why he’s here. It’s like you’re not surprised at all, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to bump into him on the street.

Sae narrows his eyes slightly before speaking. “Hey, you’re not gonna ask?”

“Ask what?” you blink at him, confused. Then, as if remembering something, your face lights up. “Oh! Where are my manners?”

Before he can react, you throw yourself at him, wrapping him in a warm embrace.

Sae stiffens, caught completely off guard. But before he can say anything, you sigh dramatically against his shoulder. “I missed you so much! I can’t believe you followed me all the way to Spain. Oh, you really do love me.”

He clicks his tongue, exasperated. You’re being an idiot again—definitely pushing it.

But he doesn’t argue. He doesn’t deny it.

Instead, after a brief hesitation, he exhales and wraps a single arm around you, listening as you ramble on like no time has passed at all.

—

“Maybe I should put a tracker on you.” you tease, walking a step ahead of Sae as you lead him through the narrow streets of Madrid.  

He exhales sharply, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I would’ve figured it out eventually.”  

You throw him a look over your shoulder. “Yeah, sure. After getting lost for another three hours.”  

Sae doesn’t bother denying it. Instead, he follows as you turn into an alleyway, stopping in front of a small, unassuming café tucked between two buildings. 

“This place has the best tostada con tomate in the city,” you say, nodding toward the café. 

“The old man inside—Rafa—he always yells at me for ordering too much, but then he sneaks me an extra pastry for free.”  

As if on cue, the door swings open, and an elderly man steps out. His eyes land on you, and a slow grin spreads across his face. “¡Ah, mira quién es! La niña que me arruina el negocio.” (Ah, look who it is! The girl who’s ruining my business.)  

You laugh, stepping forward to greet him. “Don’t lie, Rafa. You love me.”  

Rafa scoffs but affectionately ruffles your hair before turning to Sae, eyes narrowing in scrutiny. “¿Y este quién es?” (And who’s this?)  

“My amigo,” you reply smoothly, though there’s a glint of mischief in your eyes. “He just moved here, so I’m showing him around.”  

Rafa studies Sae for a moment before nodding in approval. “Bien. Come inside. I’ll make sure he eats something decent.”  

Sae barely has time to protest before you’re dragging him through the door, the scent of warm spices and grilled meat immediately filling the air. The restaurant is small, a little tucked away from the busier streets, but it’s lively, filled with laughter and the soft hum of conversation.

When the food arrives, you dig in without hesitation, taking a bite and immediately letting out a dramatic sigh. “Oh my god,” you moan, clutching your chest like you’ve just ascended to heaven. “This is it. This is what happiness tastes like.”

Sae raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You sound ridiculous.”

“You sound jealous,” you retort, shoveling another bite into your mouth. “You haven’t even touched your food.”

Sae watches you for a moment. The way you eat so shamelessly, without a care for how you look, is something he vaguely remembers from when you were kids. Some things never change.

“I’m just letting you be the poison tester,” he mutters, finally picking up his fork.

You roll your eyes. “Please. If Rafa wanted to kill me, he would’ve done it years ago.”

Rafa, passing by, snorts. “She’s not wrong.”

Sae sighs, finally taking a bite. He won’t admit it, but it’s good. Really good.

Just as you’re finishing your plate, you glance at your phone and stand abruptly. “Be right back. Don’t go running off without me.”

Sae only scoffs in response, watching as you disappear towards the bathroom. The moment you’re gone, Rafa leans against the counter, wiping his hands on a towel before turning to Sae with a knowing smirk.

“She talked about you before, you know,” Rafa says casually.

Sae tenses slightly. “Did she?”

Rafa nods, chuckling. “Not by name. Just 'some guy I used to know who’s hopeless with anything besides soccer and even worse with emotions.'”

Sae huffs. “Sounds like something she'd say.”

Rafa shrugs. “Well, if you’re sticking around, you better get used to her dragging you everywhere. She’s got a habit of making lost people feel at home.”

Sae doesn’t respond, just looks at him, expression unreadable. Rafa only chuckles, shaking his head as he wipes down the counter.

A moment later, you return, eyes narrowing the second you spot them. “What’s this?” you ask suspiciously, sliding back into your seat. “What were you two talking about?”

Rafa smirks, tilting his head towards Sae. “Oh, nothing much. Just sharing stories.”

You gasp dramatically, pointing a finger at Sae. “You weren’t talking bad about me, were you?”

Sae finally speaks, deadpan. “Wouldn’t need to. You embarrass yourself enough.”

You scoff, reaching over to steal a piece of food from his plate. “Unbelievable. I leave for one second, and you two become best friends conspiring against me.”

Rafa laughs. “Don’t worry, querida. He’s not that easy to befriend.”

You nod sagely. “That’s true. I had to force him to like me.”

Sae rolls his eyes. That was true for most people, but definitely not for you.

He liked you from the get-go, like there was a gravitational pull towards you that he just couldn't escape from.

The day continues like that.  

You don’t take him to the usual tourist spots—the grand plazas or famous museums. Instead, you show him the Madrid you love.  

A tucked-away bookstore where the owner lets you sit and read for hours without buying anything. A tiny family-run tapas bar where the food is cheap but incredible, and the owners greet you like family. A rooftop spot where you swear the sunset looks better than anywhere else in the city.  

Everywhere you go, you introduce him like he belongs there.  

By the time the sky turns golden, Sae realizes something.  

This isn’t just a city to you. It’s a home.  

And for the first time since moving here, Madrid doesn’t feel so unfamiliar to him anymore.  

Maybe it’s because he’s finally seeing it through your eyes.

And maybe that so-called puppy love Rin kept telling him about is beginning to grow into something more.

a/n: "Puppy Love" is the one and only beloved Sae Itoshi fanfic franchise that will remain untouched by despair. I wholeheartedly believe that at some point during his four years in Spain, Sae had his dreams crushed and utterly heartbroken. But in this au? nah. no angst, no career-crushing disappointments, Just endless, tooth-rotting fluff and relationship bliss. The kind of soft, sweet moments Sae would never admit he enjoys. Because for once, he deserves to have something go perfectly right.

[colebabey888]

My Style Blueprint | The Snob Closet & Icons Of Influence That Shaped My Aesthetic 🐈‍⬛ 🩷 🐆

My personal brand aesthetic is deeply rooted in the early 2000s to late 2010s—a mix of minimalism and bold statements. I rely on my fashion sense to deliver the product of my aesthetics. For me it’s all about balancing sleek, effortless basics with standout pieces that turn heads.

One thing I’ve learned over the years when putting together an outfit is that just because something looks good doesn’t mean it will look good on you. There are so many factors to consider, like body shape and skin tone. While skin tone isn’t a huge factor for me, I do believe that certain colours don’t flatter specific undertones. That’s why, when choosing an outfit, I always make sure the colours align with my undertones. Wearing colours that don’t match your undertone can throw off the whole look. You want your outfit to compliment you, not just look good on its own. Makeup plays a big role in this too—but anyways let me get started..

Colour Palette: Shades That Define My Style

Colour is everything. The shades I choose set the tone for my look and reflect my mood for the day. My absolute favorite colours are pink, black, and brown—they’re the foundation of my wardrobe, and I always find a way to incorporate at least one (if not all) into my outfit.

Black & Brown: The Core of My Aesthetic

I naturally gravitate towards black and brown, which is one of the reasons why I love leopard print so much. It blends two of my favourite colours while adding that bold, statement look I go for. My overall aesthetic leans toward that 2010s edgy socialite vibe—think dark, sleek, and effortlessly stylish. There’s a touch of emo influence, but not in a full-on gothic way.

Black is such a staple in my wardrobe—it adds the sharpness and structure that I love. It’s bold, confident, and always makes a statement. Brown, on the other hand, brings warmth and balance, making my outfits feel a little more grounded in some aspects.

Pink: My Signature Shade

No matter what outfit I’m wearing, something is going to be pink. Even if no one can see it—my undies—pink will always be there. It’s my way of keeping things playful and feminine, even when my outfit leans more on the edgy side that day.

I reach for pink more when I’m feeling girly and want to appear more soft & approachable. It’s perfect for days when I want to keep things minimal yet striking—whether I’m just chilling or stepping out for the day. But when I say pink, I mean soft pinks—not those super bright, neon shades. I’m not mad at brighter pinks, but they have to make sense in the outfit. I prefer pinks that feel delicate yet noticeable.

Textures & Prints

• Suede – I love suede for its soft yet structured feel. It almost adds a luxe, polished touch to any look, whether it’s a bag, shoes, or a jacket.

• Silk & Mesh – Silk and mesh are fabrics I only wear when it comes to tops. I don’t go for mesh pants or anything that feels too revealing. If it’s silk, I’ll wear it as a top or a skirt, but I keep my outfits modest. I love showing just enough skin to tease, but never too much.

• Glitter & Rhinestones – I love a bit of sparkle, whether it’s a subtle shimmer or bold rhinestone details. It’s all about the right balance to make an outfit pop without looking overdone.

• Leopard & Zebra Print – These prints are not just for bold outfits when it comes to me. Even when I’m going for a classy, minimalistic look, I always add leopard or zebra print somewhere—whether it’s a bag, shoes, or any statement piece. There’s just something about it that elevates an outfit.

• Floral Prints – Floral prints are for my feminine moments. I don’t wear full-on floral dresses or shirts, but I love adding florals as a statement piece—usually on a skirt or dress. I wear florals when I’m in a softer, more romantic mood, like on beach days, hot sunny days, or when I’m channeling like a boho vibe.

Icons Of Influence

Kimora Lee Simmons

Now this diva set the tone for me when it came to pink and rich. She always looked like she was on her way to a private jet, even when running errands. She had that old-money meets new-money aesthetic—the fur coats, knee-high boots, big designer bags, and subtle gold jewelry made her look polished but never try-hard. She mastered the art of looking expensive without looking like she was chasing trends.

Paris Hilton

The pink princess. She was definitely a big inspo for my obsession with pink. The pink Juicy tracksuits, rhinestone bags, pink flip phones, and even a pink Bentley. Always in mini dresses, oversized sunglasses, and heels. Ate!

Nicki Minaj

Loud, animated, over-the-top. Bubblegum wigs, wild prints, bold accessories. Harajuku meets hip-hop. Although her style was not a full dedication to my obsession with pink, those days where she paired the perfect amount of pink with the edgy minimalist outfit, had me hooked!

Kim Kardashian

Her peak socialite fashion—before the full Yeezy takeover, will always have me obsessed, Kim’s style was the blueprint for my obsession with the 2010s luxe minimalism. Always in neutral tones, tight-fitting dresses, knee-high boots, and those oversized Birkins that screamed money. She never over-accessorized, always opting for sleek gold hoops, delicate bracelets or bold sunglasses.

Vanessa Hudgens

She had this downtown, rebellious yet glam energy. It was very “cool girl” in a way that felt unpolished but intentional to me. It was the era of Tumblr grunge, oversized layers, and mixing girly pieces with a rougher edge.

Karrueche Tran

The ultimate cool girl socialite vibe—always in fur-trimmed coats, skinny jeans, pointed-toe boots, and those sleek gold accessories that made her look effortlessly expensive. She never overdid it—just the right amount of edge, the right amount of luxury.

Cassie Ventura

Cassie was so ahead of her time—she had that high-end minimalist-meets-edgy aesthetic before everyone else. The side-shaved hair, the subtle gold jewelry, the knee-high boots, the oversized designer bags—it was all calculated but looked effortless.

Brenda Song

On Suite Life, she was seen as the over-the-top wealth—spoiled rich girl but her off-screen style is what drew me in, she kept it chic with fitted jackets, heels, and bold accessories, she was always going for the edgy look.

Rihanna

I mean do I even have to explainnn !? The mix of tomboy and high-fashion—always looking undone yet perfect. Never followed trends, always set them. #so colebabey888 coded.

COLEBABEY888 Snob Closet

- What The Perfect Outfit Consists Of For Me

The Foundation

When I put together an outfit, I always start with a simple foundation—usually a neutral base that matches my undertones and I let the statement pieces pull it together. If the base isn’t basic, then it’s a statement piece on its own, whether it’s a top with a unique texture or pattern, or pants that steal the show. You get it.

Footwear: The Statement

Shoes are everythinggg to me. They set the tone for the whole outfit. Whether it’s sneakers, high boots, or strappy sandals, they have to stand out. The only exception for basic shoes is if it’s a lazy day or I’m just running errands—but only when the rest of my outfit is doing enough. If my look is already structured and bold, then plain shoes make sense. But otherwise, my shoes have to add to the statement.

Handbags: My Show Stopper

A good handbag is a must—it should always start a conversation. I love oversized tote bags, especially when they have metal clasps, extra pockets, or unique textures. My go-to right now is my Polo Black Leather Tote for everyday use, whether I’m on campus or running a quick errand. But when I really want to make a statement, I bring out my Jimmy Choo Animal Print Glaze—that bag is everything. When I step out with it, I know I’m breaking necks. I don’t always do animal print, but when I do, it has to be bold.

No matter how basic or extravagant my outfit is, statement handbags will always be needed. Occasionally, I’ll go for a smaller sling bag, like my Chanel or my simple black Shein sling, but that’s rare. I refuse to step out of the house without people drooling over my bag.

Jewelry: Minimal but Impactful

Jewelry is one of those things where people think you should only wear one metal at a time, but I don’t follow that rule. I mix gold and silver effortlessly, but only when it makes sense for the outfit. The key is balance—if I’m doing both metals, it’s intentional, not random.

I don’t wear too much jewelry, just enough to sparkle when I step into the sun. I love minimalistic rhinestone bracelets or slim white gold watches—pieces that feel delicate but noticeable. My jewelry always has to make sense with the outfit. I don’t just throw on accessories for the sake of it; they need to add something to the look.

I don’t do chunky necklaces unless they’re a core part of my aesthetic for that day. Rings? Yes, but only when they compliment my nails—which are always clean, polished, and either soft pink, nude, or a subtle French tip.

Outerwear: Bold and Luxe

Since it’s usually hot where I live, I’m not always reaching for a jacket, but when I do, you can bet it’s going to be a statement piece. I’m all about that over-the-top fur coat—think Kimora Lee Simmons with her mob wife vibe or Rihanna with her oversized, luxurious furs. A big, plush fur coat has this way of pulling everything together, making any outfit feel elevated, even if I’m just wearing sweats or a basic outfit. It gives off that “I’m spoiled” vibe, which is exactly what I’m going for. When I’m not in the mood for something so extra, I’ll keep it simple with a black leather jacket. That’s my go-to when I want something sleek but edgy. I’m not really into long, formal coats at the moment—those business-type, casual-formal coats don’t quite fit my vibe right now. For now, it’s all about that black leather or a bold, fluffy fur coat.

Final Thoughts: My Style, My Rules

At the core of my fashion choices, it all comes down to balance for me. I don’t believe in over-accessorizing, and I never want my outfit to feel too chaotic. Every element—whether it’s colour, fabric, or accessories—has to feel effortless yet calculated. I mix simple, structured pieces with statement shoes, textured bags, and standout accessories.

——————

I really hope you enjoyed reading this article as much as I enjoyed writing it. It’s been one of my favorites to put together, and I’ve put a lot of time, energy, and research into making sure I present the best textures and details for you. Hopefully it gave you a deeper understanding of my blend of early 2000s to late 2010s edgy girl vibes mixed with that fun, pink-obsessed clean girl energy.

Diving into the depths of my aesthetic, how it came to be, and why I love it is something I could talk about for hours. I could keep going forever when it comes to fashion and style. Writing this also helped me gain a better perspective on my aesthetic and what I truly love, so grateful for that.

xoxo, colebabey888

[girlkisser13]

ares cabin headcanons

children of ares

• it’s more difficult to break a weapon in a child of war’s hand (with the exception being if someone was a child of the big three).

• they can pull of any shade of red.

• camo EVERYTHING. they just have a weird obsession with camo.

• a lot of them obsessively collect sneakers.

• they have nicknames/call signs for all their members, they don't choose one when they join, it'll be given to them sooner or later.

• leather jackets, military boots, aviators, chains, chokers and metal rings are the norm.

• there's always that one kid that likes to show off their butterfly knife tricks. (i’m sorry if that’s you.)

• every one of them has a scar somewhere, usually they got it even before they came to camp. they treat scars like tattoos—the bigger and more obvious they are, the more badass they are.

• all the armies on the loosing side are forced to serve them and their father so they can summon them at a time of battle and increase their power by invoking their father’s powers.

• they’re the best fighters in camp, but that doesn't mean all they have is physical strength.

• they have the strength to stand their ground and defend a point that is so strongly that many of them become outstanding politicians.

• they don't just teach people how to fight monsters, but they also basic self-defence for anyone who feels unsafe in the city.

• the tradition of capture the flag initially started as a dispute between the ares and athena cabin, with the other camps joining one of the two.

• it has always been a ceremony for the two cabins to always be against each other.

• they all have excellent posture because they’re always training, so they’re always wearing breastplates. (i’m assume breastplates improve your posture the same way corsets do).

• rumor has it there's an underground fight club that's invite-only (but you didn't hear that from me).

•those who have a taken a vow of nonviolence run an anger management group for their siblings who want to gain a little more control.

cabin exterior

• the cabin has a rugged, fortress-like appearance, with sturdy stone walls that seem built to withstand a siege. the front door is made of reinforced steel, adorned with battle scars and dents.

• it also has heavy punk rock aesthetics, which is ironic considering how much discipline is enforced within its members.

• various weapons, such as swords, spears, and shields, are displayed prominently on the walls, either as decoration or trophies from past battles. some are enchanted to glow faintly, adding an aura of intimidation.

• the cabin is adorned with tattered banners and flags, each representing a different battle or conquest. the ares symbol, a wild boar or a spear, is prominently displayed.

• the walls are covered in graffiti and markings made by the cabin members, depicting their victories, names, and personal symbols. these give the cabin a rough, lived-in look.

• the cabin itself might show signs of past conflicts, with scorch marks, cracks, and patched-up sections that hint at the intensity of the cabin's training sessions and disputes.

• at the entrance, there are statues of ares himself, standing guard and setting the tone for those who enter.

• the stuffed boar head at the front of the cabin acts as a surveillance system, it’s enchanted to squeal when there are intruders.

cabin interior

• the cabin has a minimalist, utilitarian design, with few decorations and a focus on functionality. the beds are simple, sturdy cots, and personal belongings are kept to a minimum.

• the bunks are arranged in a regimented, military style, with each camper's area neatly organized. personal spaces include a footlocker for storing gear and a small, sturdy nightstand.

• ac/dc is constantly playing in the background?

• every available wall space is utilized for weapon racks and shelves, holding an array of swords, spears, axes, and shields.

• the cabin has an area dedicated to training, with punching bags, weights, and practice dummies. there is even be a small sparring ring in one corner for indoor practice.

• various trophies from past battles and quests are displayed inside the cabin, including weapons, monster teeth, claws, and other memorabilia. these serve as a testament to the cabin's prowess in combat.

• large maps detailing various battlefields and strategic locations are pinned to the walls. they have markers and notes, reflecting ongoing planning and strategies.

• the interior features rough, durable materials like stone and wood, designed to withstand heavy use and combat-related activities. the floors are covered in animal skins and thick, worn rugs.

cabin traditions

• for every child of war that has died in battle, a spear bearing their name is placed on the roof of the cabin.

• they have a ritual where members show off their battle scars and share stories of how they got them, celebrating their bravery and toughness.

• they have regular evenings dedicated to cleaning, sharpening, and maintaining their weapons and armor, often accompanied by storytelling or strategizing.

• they have CONSTANT meetings where they plan strategies for capture the flag and other camp activities, often held in a militaristic fashion with a focus on tactics and leadership.

• they have regular sparring sessions where they challenge each other to friendly duels to improve their skills and rank within the cabin.

• before major events like capture the flag, they paint their faces and arms with war paint as a symbol of their readiness for battle and to intimidate their opponents.

divider by @sunkupng

[alex-perry]

name: alexander “alex” perry (no relation to katy perry)

age: 32

birthday: january 22

zodiac: aqua sun, libra moon, virgo rising

place of birth: minneapolis, minnesota

occupation: architect 

neighborhood: asbury bay

mbti: infp

pinterest

this is alex and he is the most beige human you could ever imagine.

he is THAT guy who considers “meal prepping” an extreme sport.

bio:

he’s from minnesota, which is like just a giant icy wasteland filled with nice, boring people who think a wild night is a trip to ikea (maybe that's what shaped his taste in interior design but we will get into that soon). his father frank is a civil engineer. his mother susan is an english teacher. he has a younger sister named amelia, who recently graduated from college. his parents' whole philosophy is hard work and practicality, which is just code for “let’s suck all the fun out of life.”

alex's dad richard was raised uber christian in small-town in lexington nebraska, but everything changed when he went to college. cue the culture shock: he met new people, encountered different ideas, and quickly realized the world wasn’t quite like the way he was told in his little church. he met susan, a free-spirited liberal who basically turned his worldview upside down. when they decided to get married, as you can guess, richard's family did not take that well and all hell broke loose. his family basically went all 'THIS IS THE FUTURE THE LIBERALS WANT!!!' route ofc.

because of this divine union, his dad has been banished from the good ol' conservative family circle. they probably think he’s gone to the dark side. he only keeps in touch with one of his cousins. (the one happens to be the father of alex's quirky cousin andrew. and andrew is a chaotic entrepreneur, who lives in silicon valley).

he is also cousins with miss dakota @dakota-perry

so it's safe to say they don't spend much time with his father's siblings. the Perry fam only visits them during holidays.....

little alex was the type who actually did his homework on time and actually got excited about things like mowing the lawn. so it wasn't a surprise when he graduated top of his class and got a scholarship to mit. he studied architecture because.... well, bc he had no other hobbies. and i guess alex wanting to become an architect ever since he was a middle schooler played a role in that decision too.....

he aced his courses, probably wearing one of those dreadful beige cardigans, and designed buildings that weren’t about to fall anytime soon. in MIT he was the one who did all the work in a group project while everyone else was off having a good time. not because he was a control freak, it's bc he actually loved architecture. nothing got his blood pumping like a well-drafted blueprint. and as you can guess, he wasn't exactly fending off crowds of admirers with his passion for structural integrity lsfkslafkalsf

alex in a group project:

after mit, he moved to new york cityyyyyyyyyyy (pls read that with laszlo's voice). he got a job at an architecture firm called thompson & rivera architects, a mid-sized firm with just the right amount of prestige without the snobbery. he had a little apartment in hell's kitchen. his place looked like someone took an ikea catalog, sucked out all the personality, and called it home. minimalist to the point of tragedy, with a potted plant that only survived because it couldn’t be bothered to die.

alex didn’t just wake up and decide to move to asbury for the fun of it(that would be far too spontaneous for the practical prince). his design firm, landed a new project: a modern, trendy boutique hotel in town. he was picked as one of the junior architects to join the senior architects in overseeing the project. he’s not the lead designer OBVIOUSLY, but he's definitely in the inner circle, making sure everything’s structurally correct.

personality:

alex is awfully practical, grounded, and a bit of a perfectionist. and he justifies this by saying "i’m not being picky, i’m being precise". alex's idea of a VERY WILD night would be marie kondo-ing his collection of architectural books and magazines. despite his boring demeanor, he actually has a sense of humor and SURPRISINGLY he can take a joke. to mingle with the local folks, he joined the local bowling team. tbh he’s not the most outgoing person, but he values deep, meaningful relationships over casual friendships. once he is your friend, that means it's going to last forever.

outside of work alex enjoys cycling. (actually a little bit too much, he is cycling around as if he is training for tour de france). and then there’s his cooking obsession. during quarantine, he got into cooking and suddenly became that person who binged every jamie oliver video in existence. next thing you know, he be baking his own sourdough.

well, he has 'mild' ocd. and when I say mild, that's actually an understatement. he is very particular when it comes to organizing his workspace—everything has its place, and he gets mildly irritated if someone moves his things. he’s known to be a bit of a coffee snob, always in search of the perfect cup, and can be annoyingly particular about his brew (as someone who does not know shit about the coffee, I wonder how am i gonna write about this little quirk but we shall see).

OH OH OH ALSO HE IS A HUGE FAN OF THE KILLERS

connection ideas

cycling buddy: soo this dumbass is in a cycling group called "the pedal -pushers," (so original, i know). the group is full of people who take their biking way too seriously. their conversations are not the most entertaining to be honest, such as the best tire pressure or which helmet brand is the best. alex usually shows up in full cycling gear, complete with a helmet with green reflective stripes. that was his way of celebrating the brat summer.

barista (friend or nemesis depending how much they can tolerate alex): a local barista and fellow coffee enthusiast who shares his love for a perfect cup of coffee. orrr simply hating him because he always finds some fault in his coffee.

bowling team / squad: he also recently joined a bowling team. i'd love to discuss the team name and its details, so feel free to hmuuuuu

[ciaossu-imagines]

I’m back to writing for Tony Hawk: The Anime! All kidding aside, Sk8: The Infinity is such a fun show, with great characters, and I enjoyed using number 4 from prompt 3 on day 16 for the a couple of the S Skaters! I hope any fans of the show enjoy the little, general headcanons for the characters.

Do all their things have their own place?

With Reki, the answer is kind of a no. It’s not a super-hard no, but the boy can be a little scatter-brained at times and he has a habit of setting something down while thinking that he’ll remember exactly where he put it afterwards. Spoiler: he often doesn’t remember exactly where he put the thing, at least not initially. He would eventually find it, mostly by retracing his steps, but it’s not an automatic that he’ll know where everything he wants is. The fact that he’s not super-ambitious when it comes to keeping everything in his personal living space tidy and organized also contributes to that. However, I want to tack on here that this is mostly about his personal living spaces. When it comes to his workshop, Reki works a lot harder in keeping things at least somewhat organized and clean. It might appear a little crowded or somewhat untidy to others, but Reki has everything where he wants it, he can find anything he needs, and the workstation is always surface level clean at least.

Langa embraces very minimalistic living, in all honesty. He’s not someone who wants or needs a lot of stuff. The things he does have, he does try his best to take care of, so his personal spaces are always pretty tidy and clean. It also helps that he actively thinks about doing things like chores. Even if he doesn’t consider them the most fun, he understands the importance of tidying up and cleaning and he appreciates the sight of a clean living space. That being said, it’s not so much that everything has its own place. He’ll often leave things in different areas, such as setting a leaving his board leaning up against a wall, as long as those things will still be visible and easy to find. He’s pretty relaxed on organization – as long as he can find things, it doesn’t really matter if they’re always kept on this or that shelf, etc.

Miya has always had his mother to do his chores for him. Legit, that woman does all his cleaning, his laundry, everything so he’s never really learned how to keep his living space for himself. He’s the type who, even as a late teenager or even as an adult with his own space, would take his laundry home for his mother to do and she might even pop over to clean up for him. He’s never had to learn how to stay organized and how to make sure that his things are easy to find because it’s always been done for him. When he moves out on his own, it becomes harder for him and he does lose track of this or that and has to really struggle to find it before he starts learning how to do the basics of organization. And it really will be basic organizational skills that he utilizes – commonly used things closer at hands, less used things more tucked away. However, this doesn’t apply to his skating gear or his videogames. Both of those things are always kept exceedingly neat and well cared for, since they are both things that he’s really passionate about. I think he’d really enjoy using storage furniture to show off not just his gear and to keep his video games together, but to display awards and merch.

If you only knew Shadow from skating, I think his living space would really confuse and astound most people. It’s actually really clean and exceptionally well decorated. Balancing out his two personalities, there’s a mix of darker elements, like framed pictures of his favourite rock and metal bands (there’s definitely a framed Kiss concert photo), skulls and skeleton motifs, but they coexist and somehow beautifully intertwine with more delicate and feminine details, with fresh flowers in pretty crystals vases, the light and pleasant scent of room sprays, plush fabrics like velvet, and nothing is overly crowded. His things are largely well kept, without showing a lot of damage or wear and tear and he knows where almost everything is. The only spot where this isn’t true is within his kitchen. While he definitely can and will cook, it’s his least favourite of his chores and while he’ll clean up after himself, he does it as quickly as possible and is guilty of just chucking a pot into the cupboard he thinks it goes in or just setting ingredients in whichever cupboard is closest at hand.

[agentelevatormusic]

Elevator Music Dossier

BASICS.

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 

Dr. Vera Nair. 

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 

Elevator Music. Harvard, but only one person ever calls her this.  Doc, very common in the field. V., open to whoever. It just seems to roll off the tongue for some folks. She prefers Vera, if asked. 

𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌 

Indira Varma.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒 

Still, steady hands with beautiful long fingers and well-kept nails. Soft, curly hair. Toothy grin. Warm, intelligent whiskey brown eyes. Too often those eyes subtly reveal that Vera is somewhere else. Somewhere far, far away. Lost and lonely, more often than not. Good posture. The scent of disinfectant, books, and the slightest tinge of blood. 

𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒 / 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 

Small color tattoo of a white-spotted fawn nestled in the snow beneath a branch and surrounded by pine needles and a few snow flowers on her left hip. Standard ear piercings.

𝐀𝐆𝐄 / 𝐃.𝐎.𝐁. 

45 / 07/17/1978. 

𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐂 

Cancer. Though Vera believes the whole thing is pseudoscientific hokum and will only indulge either someone she believes is genuinely not that bright or someone she cares about. There has been some overlap in the past. 

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 

Suburbs of Hartford, Connecticut. House with a tire swing they never used and everything. 

𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 

TBD. 

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 / 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒 

Cis Female / She/Her.

𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 

Bisexual. 

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 

Divorced. Widowed. Both are somewhat complicated.  

𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒 

Intelligent. Resourceful. Compassionate. Capable.

𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒 

Stubborn. Workaholic. Lonely. Perfectionist.  

𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒  

Mentally notating songs. Taking inventory. Checking her medical kit again. Running a hand through her hair. A smoke somewhere quiet now and then. Overworking. Closing her eyes and hunting down the sparkle of a good memory, an hour or even just a minute, of a time she felt home. Nabbing snack items from the cafeteria. Coin tricks. Sleight of hand. String games. Focusing on her firm, reliable hands. Running through memorized texts and procedures she’s done a thousand times before. Adding new ones.

𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒 

Violin, she’s been playing since she was four. Cooking, but never only for herself. Sewing. Loves embroidering pretty little things onto holes to make them new. Journaling, keeps ‘trash’ journals stuffed with found items mostly. Reading, so much reading. Studying, so engrained she does believe it to be a hobby. A bit of origami. Yoga, for exercise not for meditation. Swimming, for meditation not for exercise. Golf and chess are not hobbies. She detests both. But she is excellent at golf and middling at chess. 

𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐒 (𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄) 

None. 

THE FOUNDATION.

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐅𝐅 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄 

MTF Chi-00 Physician and Surgeon.

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍(𝐒) 

Delta-14 Physician and Surgeon.

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 

SCP-19-2001 under Delta-14

𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐒 / 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 

Board Certification in Internal Medicine from Harvard. Board Certification in Trauma Surgery from Johns Hopkins. Fifteen years of medicine for the Foundation. Constantly researching and mastering new skills. Continued training in sidearm and riflery, but Vera would be the first to admit that she is just proficient enough. Horsemanship. Climbing. Barber skills. Knowledge of codes and ciphers. 

EXTRAS.

𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘 

I’m going for the minimalist approach here. Plenty of pieces missing. Have fun putting them together, if that’s something you aspire to!

[Elevator Music] grew up in a nice house just on the cusp of Hartford, Connecticut. She and her sister, older by only ten months, spent their days guarding their home from the fae and being hounded by anything and everything their beloved parents deemed important to their futures. Much to their parents’ delight, both girls attended Harvard University. [Elevator Music] for internal medicine and her sister for law. The family would gather often. 

After Harvard, [Elevator Music] felt compelled to move from Boston to Baltimore to take her education as an internist in a rather unexpected direction. She was accepted into the prestigious Johns Hopkins Trauma and Acute Care Surgery program and, true to form, continued to work herself to the bone. 

[Elevator Music] was recruited into the Foundation straight out of the program in early 2009. It was an offer she could not refuse, but she accepted it with grace. 

She met then Sergeant First Class [Dying Breed] within her first eighteen hours in the field. They married shortly after. However, although [Elevator Music] considered the two of them to be happy, they divorced suddenly in late 2014. 

After a much-needed leave, [Elevator Music] returned to the field with the Delta-14’s.

In 2017, [Elevator Music] married her closest friend, Senior Researcher Tom Dalton. It should be noted that Tom Dalton was also [Dying Breed]’s closest friend. Observers found the three to be amiable, all three close again, after some initial discomfort. [Elevator Music] and Tom continued to live in Baltimore together when not in the field or traveling, despite their mutual distaste for it.

In 2022, dangerous mismanagement at the Delta-14 camp led [Elevator Music] to call [Dying Breed] and the Xi-13 in for backup. The mission, SCP-19-2001, went impossibly wrong. Tom was killed before he even got to the surgical tent. [Elevator Music]’s first save, if you could call it a save, was [Dying Breed]. Hours of life saving surgery in slow motion. She just couldn’t let him die. And she didn’t. 

He took time off shortly after debriefing. 

So did [Elevator Music]. She had a small apartment and the painfully familiar shattered remains of her life to fit into a long-term storage unit once again. 

 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

Friends would be nice. It’s deceptively simple. Vera considers most positively inclined people to be friendly acquaintances. The title of ‘friend’ is one even she might not realize how closely she’s guarding. She is a tough nut to crack. You’ll have to put in the time and effort, but the acorn within is kind and loyal to a fault. And makes damn good carbonara along the way. 

Fellow Musicians are welcome here. Vera might faint from extreme joy if there was anyone out there who could play music with her. Anything. Literally anything. Instruments, vocalists, improvised bongos if the bongoist can keep a beat. Honestly, even if your character can’t play. Listen outside her door sometime. Or ask to come in. She doesn’t mind.

Patients Who Need a Little Extra Care  aside from the regular physicals. This can be in the field, in the exam room, folks who trot on in hoping to help out a little and wind up talking. Plus those rare gems who will plot with me in advance to lie to their doctor against advice and want to learn the hard way how bad an idea that is. Alexa, cue Vera’s “Doctor Voice.”

Thrill Seekers who are a little too bored with life in the compound and a little too interested in uncovering what lies beneath the surface of the good doctor for reasons of their own. For some people, Vera will seem too good to be true. I want her to feel a bit of the heat now that she’s back from her year off. To have to really consider, once again, the value of keeping these memories and secrets locked away and what she should do if they got out.

Other Workaholics in need of a night out, a smoke, a home cooked meal, a poetry discussion, a blanket fort. Just get out there and connect!

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 / 𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒

Combat Medic, The Medic, Roadside Surgery, Post-Treatment Lollipop, Songs of Solace, Dark and Troubled Past, Death of the Hypotenuse  

𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒

[spectrallik]

Specter Learns Guitar, the Hard Way

Big things often start small

I may have made a terrible mistake.

I’m a lifelong keyboardist. Not a great one, but an OK one. And I’m finally comfortable enough with the instrument to write my own music. Just one problem: the kind of music I want to make, the stuff that’s running through my head all the time, is on the dream pop/shoegaze end of post-punk. Keyboardists have a place in dream pop, and some of my favorite dream pop acts like Alvvays and Hatchie prominently feature synths. But any genre that descends from punk rock, even something this far-removed, is still fundamentally a guitarist’s genre. Plus, the songs in my head are on the heavier side like The Joy Formidable - no keyboards there, unless you count getting on your hands and knees and playing your effects pedals like a keyboard.

My synth has guitar tones, but they come nowhere near replicating the real thing. And I have some guitar-playing family members who are willing to help me out, but I don’t really know how to communicate my ideas to a guitar player. They don’t read sheet music, they just play everything by ear. How could I communicate how to play a part, or even what tone I’m going for, when I didn’t really know how a guitar works?

The only halfway decent guitar tone on the Roland Fantom, and it only sounds good after you shove a fuckton of reverb and delay after it.

So, I decided that the only way to get that knowledge was to experience the guitar firsthand. I don’t want guitar to become my main instrument or anything, but I want to at least get comfortable with it. Once I understand how a guitar truly works, it will be much easier to write for it. 

Unfortunately, the guitar I want to get - a G&L Fallout - is backordered for a few months. So, in the meantime, I got a cheapo starter guitar to screw around with and hopefully get some of the basics down. I’ll trade it in for a pedal or something later.

This is the Eastrock 39, and it is a piece of shit. It barely stays in tune, the pickups sound thin and lifeless, and the frets are rough. You have to actively fight this thing to get the strings to ring properly. Some of my tone problems are because I still need to build finger strength, sure, but I’ve read reviews from veteran guitar players that say that this doesn’t play easily. Not great for a supposed “beginner” guitar. On the bright side, it came with a ton of extra stuff that doesn’t suck - a nice guitar bag, beginner picks, a solid capo, audio cables, and luthier tools to replace the strings and adjust the action. It even came with a practice amp, but I live in a studio apartment and have an audio interface for my synth, so I don’t have much use for it. 

So… goals. My first goal is to get the basic chords down, figure out how barres work, and learn ONE simple song. I’m not too worried right now about memorizing the fretboard - I’m not gonna do any solos anytime soon - but I need to understand chords to actually play songs. Luckily, guitar sheet music is more commonly written in an alternate form called tablature that is WAY EASIER TO UNDERSTAND THAN TRADITIONAL NOTATION, HOLY SHIT, WHY ISN’T THERE A VERSION OF THIS FOR PIANO!? I’m still not great at reading sheet music, despite my ClAsSiCaL SuZuKi MeThOd training, but it took all of 5 minutes to pick up TAB.

So, what’s my first song? Well, a few months ago, I got a picture of one of my characters playing air guitar and singing along to a song:

As it turns out, this song - Future Me Hates Me by The Beths - is very beginner friendly. 90% of the rhythm part is the same power chord shape, and the lead guitar part is pretty reserved and minimalistic by Jonathan Pearce standards. Plus, the guitar I'm waiting on is the exact same model that Liz Stokes played on that record. So it should sound perfect, especially once I get a RAT on my pedalboard.

So yeah, we'll see where this goes. I do want to keep track of my progress somewhere, and I'm planning on getting the fuck off Twitter once and for all, so I guess it will go here.

[leejenowrld]

i really wanna know how they would decorate their house when they move in together hehehe!!

also, imo i would say i prefer jeno’s pov > alternative side of the fic bc i feel like the latter would change my (and probably others) view of the current loving jeno we have 😣 but its really up to you as i’m sure you have many great ideas <33

omg i love this!!! it’s gonna be long and filled with descriptions and some cute behind the scenes facts so stay tuned!!!! you will fall for yn and jeno even harder ugh

(also i might make a jeno pov but show some unwritten/unseen scenes that can make me explore a different side to his character, maybe his conflicted side idk i wanna do smth fun hehe)

ok so some fun facts, jeno basically built this house for her when they grew older 😭 i’m talking like 24-27. seeing as though he has a strong background in architecture and engineering, he knows about all this stuff and idk he just had a lot of input in the building of the house and he designed everything. it’s so sweet :( jeno worked his ass off in so many jobs at one time just to be able to do this

yn had no clue this was happening. it was genuinely a surprise and he had it hidden for so many years, imagine the reaction when she found out?? safe to say she was crying to him all night long in their new and beautiful room in their new house 😭 they both work incredibly hard, have good jobs and worked their asses off in education and their grown up jobs so it’s safe to say they deserve and have earned this luxurious house. also since yn didn’t know about it, jeno did design the layout and most of the interior, he knows what his girl likes :) he designed it for her, her style and her color schemes, his style is different but he honestly didn’t care. he wanted to do this for her, he’s so endlessly in love with her and just wanted to do this for the love of his life :( he wanted to build her a home that she loved and that they could grow up in its so fucking cute

let me start off with they’re rich rich like they’re both hard working so i imagine their house to reflect that

ok ramble after. the house 🖤🖤

i’ll start off with their shared bedroom.

it’s very minimalist, very blue color scheme that they both vibe with. this is really the only room that doesn't scream 'girly' because it's also his room and idk i just think it makes sense to have their shared master bedroom like this

they have a very luxurious en suite

they have the best view, jeno knows that yn is a sucker for views and pretty scenes so you’ll see that around their house. the neighbourhood they’re in is filled with nature and pretty sights

they tend to people watch from their view in their shared bedroom and it’s so mf cute. yn will be standing in front of the window and jeno will come up behind her, back hug, so close to her (kinda same vibe as the ending of mfal) and he will kiss her cheek so softly and whisper sweet things into her ear 🥹

they also have those windows that people from outside can’t look into so you bet jeno has her pushed up against the windows screaming his name more times than none ;)

yns ‘girly room’

he built yn her dream room 🥹 it’s a girly and pink room, she’s just a girl. it has all her cute skincare and her vanity and her makeup like you might not think it but she loves this type of stuff!! she’s a whore for it, her and retail therapy go hand in hand and jeno knows that and made sure to give her a room that it just her, a room where she can wind down in. he put the most effort and thought into this room, he wanted it to be perfect for her. it also has her book shelf!! and her cute reading sofa. it’s her safe haven. it’s a good place for her to chill in when she needs to get away and when she feels anxiety and that’s exactly why jeno made it for her :(

it’s kinda a private room for yn lol like she likes to keep it away and keep it to herself because it’s just the biggest gift jeno has ever given her (the entire house is duh)

but she loves to chill with jeno in here 🥹 they’ve had their softest sex moments in here

as well as their rough sex!! hell yeah. this is the room where yn keeps her lingerie lmao

the kitchen

i’m not completely satisfied with the photos i found but oh well, just the vibe is that it’s very girly lmao. keep in mind jeno designed this, he did it for his girl ❤️ he truly doesn’t give a shit like he put what she wanted above his own needs, he thrives off that shit, he loves giving her love and just giving. he is so in love i can’t express it enough

yn can’t cook for shit so he is always here making her meals and food :( he will always ask her what she wants for dinner, he will always make what she wants above what he wants

imagine him as a dad cooking for his family, making the pancakes in the morning 🥺

imagine how much sex has happened in this room… fucking insane

living room

one of my faves, it just screams home. i don’t have much to say to say about this room, just enjoy the pics 🫶

just imagine the fluffiest and biggest and comfiest sofa, the cuddling and sex that happens on there 🥺

the movie nights man!!! they invite all their friends too it’s the cutest shit ever

the garden

so girly

so many flowers

it’s just beautiful

so many butterflies come in aswell 🥹

jenos camera roll is just filled with photos of yn in this garden like he’s obbessed

[eternallynamelessvoid]

Dreams below (very dark. Mentions of slavery(???) that’s the only word that fits honestly. Inmates; flying; entrapment.

I was my age now in this dream, the first scene I remember was people in orange-gear, whom I assume were inmates, I was also in one of these suits.

I had a wing-belt(this shows up in many dreams, I’ll explain later), and many inmates had different accessories(I was the only that I saw with the belt).

After some time, I’m not sure how much I don’t remember this scene well, I was ‘chosen’ and basically brought to my keep(er).

That is the first scene.

The second scene we are in some absolutely huge store, I believe it is the same store as many other dreams(will explain later). My Keep wanders off, and has told me to stay in some sort of book isle. After a long time I eventually sit down, holding the shopping-cart in place.

After a few hours, I begin to worry. I’m not sure why. I’m basically a slave. Dream-me was very stressed, though and began asking store-clerks and going in and out of the store, alternating between my book-spot and the car.

Eventually, I found her, the Keep. Dream-me was very relieved.

That is scene two.

The third scene is us stepping out of the car, it would appear that some months have passed since I have been ‘chosen’ because I have grown comfortable (comfortable in knowing I can be funny and witty without getting my ass beat by the keep.).

I still have my wing-belt, thank goodness.

Back to the scene.

As we step out of the car, there is a huge white-mansion. It’s very minimalistic and bland, it’s made of mostly quartz (which was typical in this dream for some reason) and had accents of fake gem-lines.

I was told to fly around and inspect, so I triggered my wings and did just that.

Funnily enough, I checked the bedroom-wing and actually found a bunch of scattered AirPods for some reason. It was very silly. I remember yelling something to the Keep about this.

I believe I finished scouting, but I don’t really remember.

Eventually, she calls me to go fetch something from the car.

I do, but for some reason i let myself fly very very high into the sky. (I will elaborate more on this in a sec. It was so nice.)

I still retrieved the item and brought it back to her.

That is the end of the timeline that I can remember.

There’s little thing so remember, like sitting in a garage with the wings outstretched while it pours.

Contemplating running away after the Keep becomes lax.

Planning to run away (I don’t think I did.)

I do believe me and my Keep eventually because ‘equals’, or I ran away. There was some sort of resolve at the end of the dream, but not quite. Like it was resolved but there was some discontent from me, so I believe we became ‘equals’ but not quite.

Anyways now to explain everything that I said I was going too.

Wing-Belt; a wing-belt is a wearable accessory that grants the wearer wings, if I do not naturally have wings in a dream I almost always have one of these.

The wings themselves can either come out of the belt, or appear at the users back. They are very malleable and can be altered easily by the person wearing them.

I am unsure what would happen if it is removed, as I have never seen or experienced it in a dream. The mere thought makes me anxious.

Massive Store; it looks very similar to IKEA, but with everything instead of just furniture. I’ve only been inside the store in two different dreams, I remember towards the back-right corner there’s this HUGE stuffed-animal collection.

Flight-scene; I had trigged the wings to expand into very large wings, before lifting myself off the ground and just gunning it for as high as I could.

It was so nice, I can’t even begin to explain how utterly wonderful I felt. I really really wish I could fly.

I hope I remember this one. I also wonder what scene I’ll remember the most.

[quibbs126]

Randomly I just remembered this old character and story I made back junior year high school

Basically the plot started off as being about how this one villain actually had a crush on the hero he fought against, but it kind of spiraled into its own thing

Our main protagonist, aka the villain, is a guy named Sunni, and this is the only art I have of him (it’s pretty old, I’ll probably redesign him at some point)

I don’t think Sunni was intended to be the main protagonist, or at least he and the hero he fought against shared the role, but he’s the one basically everything was written around, as well as the only one who’s name I can remember, so screw it, he’s the protagonist

Also he’s supposed to be half dragon. Magic creatures exist in this world but it’s still modern and humans also exist, and I didn’t really think it through

Anyways, so Sunni is part of this group of villains, but truthfully he’s pretty low on the ranking system, he does a lot of minor things, the story would basically just follow him and his subordinates doing stuff. He does still have a crush on the hero who goes to stop him, which would be this guy

(Disregard the guy in the corner, he’s from something unrelated)

All I remember about him is that he has ice powers, and he generally seems bland and minimalistic, but he’s just kind of like that and he has nuances to him that Sunni appreciates about him (when they aren’t fighting that is)

I think in the original, the only reason Sunni is a villain is because he wants to get the attention of his crush and doesn’t know how else to do it. He’s not really a bad guy he just got in over his head and accidentally stumbled into where he is now. I feel like I should give him an actual reason for sticking around and being a villain other than this but I’m not sure what

Also people in this world have magic powers, which they aren’t born with, but rather they get their hands on this orb thing that they ingest and it gives them powers. Sunni however does not have any because he doesn’t actually know where you’re supposed to get them, it’s more like an open secret, they aren’t just distributed around the world. However, so many people can get their hands on them, including actual children, that he feels like if he asks anyone he’ll look like a complete moron and become a joke, so he’s trying to figure out without letting it on that he doesn’t know. He gets by through sheer ingenuity and some mechanical talent

Let’s see, other characters

Well there are his three subordinates, that being two twin kids, one with the power to separate things, including himself, and the other being able to fuse things together, and then there’s his other subordinate who’s powers I don’t remember, only that she was more a femme fatale, her grandfather is a siren and her grandmother a selkie, and she’s also casually dating Sunni’s boss. Which he knows about but he doesn’t know what to do with this information, it’s just really awkward to him (note that this lady is like at least in her 30s, she’s not a young adult/teen like Sunni)

Speaking of his boss, she’s basically the person who runs the villain group/organization he’s a part of, and she controls black holes, which is why she’s considered so dangerous. Also her and the other lady’s romance are like a casual subplot that shows up every now and again

One other thing I remember about this story is that there would eventually be a plot where everyone who has powers (which is a lot of people, at least in the cast) one night suddenly becomes incapacitated, because there’s something affecting the orbs that give them power. And since Sunni doesn’t have powers, he’s unaffected and has to try and figure out what’s going on and how to stop it by himself

I think that’s all I remember about it. I’m kind of invested again, but I also notice some issues here and there, and I want to go and see if I can redo some things

Oh another thing I just remembered, Sunni eventually had a thing where after finding out his crush liked women (his crush is bisexual but Sunni’s not really aware of that), he disguised himself a woman and as a completely different person to see if that would get him to hang out with him, and they did eventually become friends that way, though his crush didn’t know this was Sunni. This didn’t mean anything when I wrote it but maybe it should. Or I should take it out

[blueeyedrat]

Steam Next Fest, summer 2023, for real this time. I was able to fit in more games than I anticipated, which is good, since there were plenty that caught my eye. First impressions and general thoughts under the cut.

(Part 1)

Viewfinder — Another entry in the proud lineage of "first-person puzzle games that do weird non-Euclidean shit" — Portal, Antichamber, Superliminal, et al. These games are always impressive in some way (concept, tech, style), and Viewfinder carries on the tradition. The core mechanic, overlaying photos onto "real" space and having their contents become equally real and able to be interacted with, is pulled off well. The puzzles in the demo show off a lot of interesting ways it can be used, and how its basic rules and assumptions can be bent and challenged. I'm very interested in this one, and I'm looking forward to when it comes out.

Stick to the Plan — A grid puzzle game about getting a small dog from point A to point B while carrying a long, unwieldy stick. I've seen the original Game Jam version on itch.io but never got around to playing it. The game seems up my alley, though, so I'm glad it's being expanded upon. Easy to pick up the basic concept, but enough room for introducing new mechanics and gimmicks to keep things interesting.

Gambit Shifter — A chess-themed puzzle game. I don't have much to say about it, but what I do have to say is positive. It's a simple enough idea (if you're familiar with how chess pieces move on a grid) with a decent variety of puzzles and simple, stylized chess pieces. That's all you need, I suppose.

Iron Roads — A train management sim. This one didn't quite land for me. The management part (building stations and rails and bridges, buying trains, planning routes, implementing logic for train stops and the like) didn't hold my interest, and the rest of it felt a little bare-bones. It's relatively early in development so there's room to improve, but I don't think this one's for me.

Causeway — A sleek-looking puzzle game about connecting traffic lines. I expected more to it than that, but it's actually pretty minimalist: draw paths, connect input roads to output roads, let the simulation play out and hope you did it correctly so there's no overflow or collision. I couldn't find any way to adjust the camera and the interface felt a little awkward in general, especially when trying to fine-tune a road on the edge of the map or place a bunch of roads and bridges near each other. I like this one in concept, but less in practice.

Laysara: Summit Kingdom — So, uh, all of the city builders I've played in the past few years are getting sequels all of a sudden. Cities: Skylines, Airborne Kingdom, Before We Leave, all have sequels lined up. I hope I have time to play them. I also hope I have time to play Laysara when it comes out, because it pushes all the same buttons. A builder with a nice gameplay loop of making numbers go up and having everything fit together just right (but it's all on a grid, so you don't have to fit it all into place that much), and a unique gimmick or two to top it off. I've been looking forward to this one for almost a year, and I don't think that'll change any time soon.

Bulwark: Falconeer Chronicles — A sandbox city builder that shares a setting with the dev's previous work, The Falconeer (a game I'm not actually that familiar with, and have only seen in passing). As far as builders go, this is one of the most unorthodox I've played, mostly due to its control scheme. You traverse a network of connected buildings and extend that network upward and outward, rather than moving around the map independently and building from the top down (though with a useful airship, you're not entirely locked out of the latter). It's streamlined, but at the same time it feels like there's some nuance that I'm either not quite getting or can't access in this demo — supply lines and logistics, defenses, managing diplomacy and conflict with the different in-game factions, and so on. Despite Bulwark's oddities, or perhaps even because of them, I actually kinda dig it and I'm interested to see more. Mr. Sala, you have my attention.

Quest Master — A 2D Zelda-like with a focus on creating custom dungeons. It's been too long since I've dug into a good level editor. A good Zelda Maker might scratch that itch, though, especially since we've got options on that front (I should check out Super Dungeon Maker at some point, for comparison). Admittedly, this one might need some more time in the oven; no matter which control scheme you're using, the interface isn't as intuitive as I'd like and feels a bit awkward switching in and out of build mode, and currently there's no way to re-map any of the controls to mitigate this. It's got some neat ideas, though, and I'd like to see the game when it's been fully fleshed out.

Saltsea Chronicles — A point-and-click narrative game. I've had Die Gute Fabrik's previous foray into the genre (Mutazione) on my backlog for a while, and started up a playthrough after this game was announced. What I've seen so far in both games has been really interesting in terms of worldbuilding and character writing. Saltsea Chronicles seems particularly ambitious, with an ensemble cast and an episodic plot — each "episode" brings your motley crew to a different island in the Saltsea and you can choose who goes ashore to gather information, resources, mementos, etc., discovering more of the world and its inhabitants, advancing individual stories and the overarching narrative throughout. The demo episode was really well-written, and I am immediately invested in this setting and these characters. Of all the games I played in this Next Fest, this one might be the sleeper hit of the lot.

[cleverhottubmiracle]

Okay, friends, help a girl out! It’s getting down to the wire, and I need to figure out what to pack for 10 days in England next month. I’ve been talking about this trip for months, and somehow it still snuck up on me. Now I leave in less than three weeks! I’m feeling a little overwhelmed because May is such an awkward time of year to dress for. I won’t know until the last minute whether I’ll need warmer or cooler pieces, and every item counts because I’m committed to going COO (carry-on only)—just one carry-on size suitcase and a personal bag. Here’s the scoop: I’m going on a women’s group trip with Walkabout Tours, a boutique tour company run by my friend Shelly. We met years ago through blogging and have stayed in touch ever since. When she started hosting these small-group tours, I knew I wanted to go on one, and this spring, the timing finally worked out! I’m arriving a day early to acclimate and staying two extra nights at the end to make the most of my time (and squeeze in a little shopping—I mean, priorities!). That means I’ll be gone for 9–10 days total, and I need to pack accordingly. Why Carry-On Only? wearing Shelly has strongly recommended that we all pack in a carry-on suitcase because we’ll be moving around England via planes, trains, and automobiles—and we’re each responsible for our own luggage. When I travel with Paul, I know I can rely on him to help me lift my heavy suitcase or navigate cobblestone streets. But this time, I’ll basically be on my own, and I don’t want to be that girl struggling with a giant suitcase and holding everyone up while the rest of the group strolls merrily along with their light carry-ons. For me, the challenge is two-fold. First, I’m trying to narrow down what clothing to bring—things that mix and match well, give me options, and don’t take up extra space. And second, I travel with quite a few toiletries and hair tools, not to mention my regular medications, supplements, and just-in-case pharmacopeia (I like to be prepared for anything, especially when traveling abroad!). Then there are all the other random accoutrements… umbrella? Travel steamer? Chargers and adapters? It adds up quickly. With all that in mind, I pared down my toiletries during our Florida trip and set aside only what I truly need when I’m away from home. I’ll decant everything I can, and I plan to use a good old quart-size Ziploc bag for my liquids—because, well, Heathrow. I have a T3 travel dryer and flat iron that are both EU-outlet approved and smaller than the Dyson versions I use at home and usually travel with, so I think I’m set there. The real conundrum is the clothing! What Makes This Trip Tricky Packing is always a bit of a puzzle, but this trip adds a few extra variables. When it comes to clothes and shoes, I can be a minimalist—I’m fine with mixing, matching, and re-wearing things. But I also like having options, especially when I don’t know most of the ladies I’m traveling with or what the locals will be wearing. I’m not so concerned about blending in, but I do want to feel confident and happy with what I’m wearing. And then there’s England’s famously unpredictable spring weather. I won’t know until a few days before I leave whether I’ll need outfits for cool, damp days or warm, sunny ones. The good news is, I do have a set itinerary, unlike our fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants Florida trips. That means I can plan around specific events and excursions. That’s where you come in! I’m hoping you can help me get this packing list and my outfits nailed down. What I’m Packing for England… Maybe I created two potential capsule wardrobes—one for warmer weather and one for cooler—and I’ll finalize everything once I have a better sense of the forecast. I tried on a bunch of these outfit combinations yesterday, which definitely helped me weed out a few things. I still had way too many tops, but creating these graphics really helped me see how everything comes together. I was able to pare down a bit more. In each potential capsule, I have 7 tops (maybe still too many!), plus 2 pairs of jeans, a dress, 3 pairs of shoes (including the pair I’ll wear on the plane), and 2 coats/jackets (I can wear one on the plane if need be). I also have one crossbody bag and one tote. My travel outfit isn’t included in those numbers, but it’s pictured below. I could re-wear parts of it during the trip, but more likely, I’ll just wear it around the house when I want loungewear that isn’t pajamas. No matter which option I end up going with, the black rain coat and the stripe dress are both pretty much set. I’m hoping it’ll be warm enough (60s and 70s) to bring a lightweight jacket as an outfit completer piece, but if it looks like it’s going to be chilly and/or rainy, I’ll bring my crop trench instead. It’s more of a second outerwear option that I’d remove indoors. I could technically leave it home, but I like the idea of having two outerwear options for variety’s sake, since I’ll probably be wearing one every day. I also have two bags—one crossbody for everyday use, and a Longchamp tote. The tote folds flat in my suitcase, and I can use it on longer sightseeing days when I want a larger bag. It also gives me the option to check my suitcase on the way home and use the tote as my personal item, in case I do a little shopping while I’m there. Okay, here’s how it breaks down. Let me know what you think, and feel free to give advice if you think I’m missing something—or if you see anything else I can remove. I haven’t tried packing it all into my suitcase yet, but it should work! England Travel Warmer Weather Capsule In the warmer weather capsule, I have five short-sleeve tops and two long-sleeve options. One is a floral blouse I can wear with the black jeans and ballet flats for dinner or the theater; the other is a versatile black sweater for cooler days. I’m planning to use the beige Talbots utility jacket as a light layer over the short-sleeve tops—it should work with all of them. The dress, jeans, and shoes stay the same in both capsule versions. Below are the outfit possibilities with this one, along with links to shop everything. Warmer Weather Outfits Shop Them Here: Final Thoughts So, what do you think? I’d love to hear your feedback and suggestions—especially if you’ve been to England in May or have tips for navigating planes, trains, and cobblestone streets with just a carry-on. No matter what I end up bringing, I’m excited for the adventure! Stay In Touch If you liked this post, be sure you’re signed up for my email newsletter. In addition to my most recent blog posts, you’ll receive exclusive newsletter content like special sales, my newest favorite finds, and an occasional peek behind the scenes — all delivered right to your inbox. I would also love for you to join my JLS Fashion Insiders Facebook Group! This is a friendly place to discuss all matters of fashion and style with other women, share your outfits, get advice, and stay up to date on all the happenings in our community. Source link

[norajworld]

Okay, friends, help a girl out! It’s getting down to the wire, and I need to figure out what to pack for 10 days in England next month. I’ve been talking about this trip for months, and somehow it still snuck up on me. Now I leave in less than three weeks! I’m feeling a little overwhelmed because May is such an awkward time of year to dress for. I won’t know until the last minute whether I’ll need warmer or cooler pieces, and every item counts because I’m committed to going COO (carry-on only)—just one carry-on size suitcase and a personal bag. Here’s the scoop: I’m going on a women’s group trip with Walkabout Tours, a boutique tour company run by my friend Shelly. We met years ago through blogging and have stayed in touch ever since. When she started hosting these small-group tours, I knew I wanted to go on one, and this spring, the timing finally worked out! I’m arriving a day early to acclimate and staying two extra nights at the end to make the most of my time (and squeeze in a little shopping—I mean, priorities!). That means I’ll be gone for 9–10 days total, and I need to pack accordingly. Why Carry-On Only? wearing Shelly has strongly recommended that we all pack in a carry-on suitcase because we’ll be moving around England via planes, trains, and automobiles—and we’re each responsible for our own luggage. When I travel with Paul, I know I can rely on him to help me lift my heavy suitcase or navigate cobblestone streets. But this time, I’ll basically be on my own, and I don’t want to be that girl struggling with a giant suitcase and holding everyone up while the rest of the group strolls merrily along with their light carry-ons. For me, the challenge is two-fold. First, I’m trying to narrow down what clothing to bring—things that mix and match well, give me options, and don’t take up extra space. And second, I travel with quite a few toiletries and hair tools, not to mention my regular medications, supplements, and just-in-case pharmacopeia (I like to be prepared for anything, especially when traveling abroad!). Then there are all the other random accoutrements… umbrella? Travel steamer? Chargers and adapters? It adds up quickly. With all that in mind, I pared down my toiletries during our Florida trip and set aside only what I truly need when I’m away from home. I’ll decant everything I can, and I plan to use a good old quart-size Ziploc bag for my liquids—because, well, Heathrow. I have a T3 travel dryer and flat iron that are both EU-outlet approved and smaller than the Dyson versions I use at home and usually travel with, so I think I’m set there. The real conundrum is the clothing! What Makes This Trip Tricky Packing is always a bit of a puzzle, but this trip adds a few extra variables. When it comes to clothes and shoes, I can be a minimalist—I’m fine with mixing, matching, and re-wearing things. But I also like having options, especially when I don’t know most of the ladies I’m traveling with or what the locals will be wearing. I’m not so concerned about blending in, but I do want to feel confident and happy with what I’m wearing. And then there’s England’s famously unpredictable spring weather. I won’t know until a few days before I leave whether I’ll need outfits for cool, damp days or warm, sunny ones. The good news is, I do have a set itinerary, unlike our fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants Florida trips. That means I can plan around specific events and excursions. That’s where you come in! I’m hoping you can help me get this packing list and my outfits nailed down. What I’m Packing for England… Maybe I created two potential capsule wardrobes—one for warmer weather and one for cooler—and I’ll finalize everything once I have a better sense of the forecast. I tried on a bunch of these outfit combinations yesterday, which definitely helped me weed out a few things. I still had way too many tops, but creating these graphics really helped me see how everything comes together. I was able to pare down a bit more. In each potential capsule, I have 7 tops (maybe still too many!), plus 2 pairs of jeans, a dress, 3 pairs of shoes (including the pair I’ll wear on the plane), and 2 coats/jackets (I can wear one on the plane if need be). I also have one crossbody bag and one tote. My travel outfit isn’t included in those numbers, but it’s pictured below. I could re-wear parts of it during the trip, but more likely, I’ll just wear it around the house when I want loungewear that isn’t pajamas. No matter which option I end up going with, the black rain coat and the stripe dress are both pretty much set. I’m hoping it’ll be warm enough (60s and 70s) to bring a lightweight jacket as an outfit completer piece, but if it looks like it’s going to be chilly and/or rainy, I’ll bring my crop trench instead. It’s more of a second outerwear option that I’d remove indoors. I could technically leave it home, but I like the idea of having two outerwear options for variety’s sake, since I’ll probably be wearing one every day. I also have two bags—one crossbody for everyday use, and a Longchamp tote. The tote folds flat in my suitcase, and I can use it on longer sightseeing days when I want a larger bag. It also gives me the option to check my suitcase on the way home and use the tote as my personal item, in case I do a little shopping while I’m there. Okay, here’s how it breaks down. Let me know what you think, and feel free to give advice if you think I’m missing something—or if you see anything else I can remove. I haven’t tried packing it all into my suitcase yet, but it should work! England Travel Warmer Weather Capsule In the warmer weather capsule, I have five short-sleeve tops and two long-sleeve options. One is a floral blouse I can wear with the black jeans and ballet flats for dinner or the theater; the other is a versatile black sweater for cooler days. I’m planning to use the beige Talbots utility jacket as a light layer over the short-sleeve tops—it should work with all of them. The dress, jeans, and shoes stay the same in both capsule versions. Below are the outfit possibilities with this one, along with links to shop everything. Warmer Weather Outfits Shop Them Here: Final Thoughts So, what do you think? I’d love to hear your feedback and suggestions—especially if you’ve been to England in May or have tips for navigating planes, trains, and cobblestone streets with just a carry-on. No matter what I end up bringing, I’m excited for the adventure! Stay In Touch If you liked this post, be sure you’re signed up for my email newsletter. In addition to my most recent blog posts, you’ll receive exclusive newsletter content like special sales, my newest favorite finds, and an occasional peek behind the scenes — all delivered right to your inbox. I would also love for you to join my JLS Fashion Insiders Facebook Group! This is a friendly place to discuss all matters of fashion and style with other women, share your outfits, get advice, and stay up to date on all the happenings in our community. Source link