#kun dad au

[saturnznct]

dad!kun | insta posts 2

nct masterlist

[bimirmir]

Mafia au but Iruma's parents tried selling him on the black market for organs (it did not go well for them)

Had that au sitting in my drafts for over a year (before hiro's what if was even published) but i got inspired by @crunchkind balam iruma recently to actually create something

[phoxphenex]

can u make kun/wayv as dad text,something like when he found out he’ll be a father or when he’s away for tour?

wayv when you find out you’re pregnant

[iamhereinthebg]

Flower Kids

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

what would megumi’s life have been if he was actually raised by the zenin from day one? like either gojo lost the custody battle or they were able to scoop him up before gojo ever reached them. i doubt they would want to keep tsumiki with them so she’s not there for little baby megs.

i think it would be really cool to see a zenin raised megumi interacting with his fellow classmates when he attends the school, not to mention the contrast between him and gojo. like on paper they both should have gotten the same treatment-being pampered and spoiled rotten but we also know that the zenin think that hurting little kids makes them stronger so it would be super interesting to see megumi realise that the stuff that happened to him wasn’t normal and for gojo to have a guilt trip bc he wasn’t able to help megumi when he needed someone to help him the most.

So I have a fanfic that I’ve half written (no idea if I’ll ever finish it—I’d love to, it’s just hard to find the time) about EXACTLY THAT that I talked about in this post for an ask game.

That being said, that entire thing happens from Tsumiki’s perspective, and I agree with you—I don’t think the Zenin would have ever actually taken her too. They don’t want her. She’s not Zenin. She’s not a sorcerer. They only bought Megumi. For the most part, Megumi is absent from that post, and you asked about Megumi. So this is what I think would happen on Megumi's side of that post I linked.

It comes down to two things:

1. He is never, ever happy with the Zenin.

2. He never lets go of his sister.

Megumi’s old enough to remember Tsumiki when the Zenin take him away. He's old enough to love her. And I think that Megumi loves very quietly, but he also loves very violently. He wouldn't let his sister hold his hand on the walk to school, but he would sacrifice himself for her future.

I think the Zenin took him from his sister, and I think he kicked and screamed and wasn't strong enough. I think they thought he would forget her eventually.

And then I think he bit most of the Zenin Clan.

At the end of the day, what Megumi wanted was the one thing the Zenin were not willing to give him. They were never like the Gojo clan, they were never going to pamper him, but there are a great many things in this world that they would give the Ten Shadows finally returned to them. But they would not give him a non-sorcerer, non-Zenin sister who would only be a weakness to him. They refused to let him have any contact with his sister, and that was the source of a lot of what soured.

Any Megumi that was taken in by the Zenin would have been taken in to Naobito's household directly. He would be announced as the one who finally inherited their most cherished technique, and he would be declared heir, and the Zenin would call him beloved for it.

They would keep him in a room that was large and empty and almost always dark, and he wouldn't be allowed to decide when he slept or woke, and the door would always be locked from the outside. They would give him a wardrobe of expensive clothes that he hated, and he would never get to pick which of them he wore.

Megumi would hate them. He would hate all of them.

He's just not the type to be comfortable with or enjoy the adoration of others--especially when it's not backed up by genuine love. Megumi is someone who very much values sincerity and depth to emotion--it's one of the reasons why he seems to respect Yuuji so much. Yuuji is a good person who follows through with what he says. He's not just going to talk about wanting to save people--he's there making the sacrifices as he does it.

The Zenin do not actually love him. And he knows it. He's experienced love before, and this isn't it.

They love the idea of him. The fantasy of him that lives in their heads. He has no interest in being their little god prince to contend with the Gojo's own. He knows who he is, and it's not this. He wants to go home. He wants to find his sister again. He doesn't want to do this anymore.

And I think that's a feeling Megumi never escape: he just didn't want to do this anymore.

Megumi would feel like a bug pinned beneath glass in the Zenin compound. He would constantly have people managing him--when he ate, what he ate, what he wore, when he slept, when he woke, when he trained, what he did. Having to become a jujutsu sorcerer signified an inherent loss of control, but it's nothing compared to the sheer objectification that he goes through when the Zenin have exclusive control over him.

He has no power of what clothes he wears. How his hair is styled. His schedule, his diet, the people he speaks too--he's suffocating and the Zenin are just increasing pressure on him.

I don't think Gojo ever thought that would be Megumi's life.

We’re gonna just have this imagining exist in the same world as the Tsumiki centric fic described in the linked post, and in that, the reason why Gojo never took him in was because he didn’t know Megumi had a sister. He showed up, saw the divine dogs, realized Megumi had the Ten Shadows, and decided he couldn’t do this. He was a mess. He was grieving Suguru and Haibara. Megumi looked just like the man who killed Riko, and apparently inherited the fucking Ten Shadows of all the goddamn things. The Zenin would lose their shit, and Gojo didn’t have the energy to fight and told himself he didn’t need to, because if Megumi was the Ten Shadows he’d be cared for like a prince with the Zenin. He turned around and left and spent the rest of his life with Megumi in the back of his mind, always nagging him with whether he made the right decision. It wasn’t until Maki got there and made a few worrisome references to Megumi's standard of living that he started to really worry that he had made the wrong one, and it wasn't until he found out about Tsumiki that he knew it was the wrong decision.

It's like this: The Zenin hurt Megumi in every world.

It would be bad no matter what, but it really gets bad because Megumi refuses to stop trying to get back to Tsumiki. She's his sister. They didn't have anyone or anything in this world, but they had each other, and he couldn't let these people just take her away. He’s feral about it. He refuses to fit the mold they keep trying to cram him in. He’s trying to scale the walls to escape. He’s increasingly desperate and angry and the Zenin are getting more and more frustrated the longer he fights them. He’s the heir to the clan, and he can’t stop trying to leave it to get back to some random girl who isn’t his real sister and isn’t someone they’ll ever allow him to have.

It gets bad.

They put him under increasingly strict levels of control. He’s constantly being trained, which means he's constantly being hurt. He’s not allowed to speak to anyone without the clan head’s approval. He is under absolutely constant guard after he manages to get over the wall and halfway to his old neighborhood before they catch him again. Tsumiki’s name is not allowed to be said aloud, or his old name. He forgets his name used to be Fushiguro, but he doesn’t forget Tsumiki. He doesn’t let himself.

I think it escalates until it hits a breaking point. Megumi becomes increasingly self-destructive and non-responsive to everything they try. They push him to extremes that start risking permanent damage.

I think Megumi would try to hurt himself, eventually.

He wouldn't be in his right mind. He's in the most shit situation possible. He's undergoing pretty severe abuse. He'd be at the end of his rope from the lack of control over his own life, and he'd be spiteful as hell towards the Zenin. And the only thing he has to hurt them with is himself.

As a character, Megumi has always considered his own sacrifice as an acceptable means to the end of getting back at someone. Mahoraga, intrinsically, requires him killing himself as a way of killing someone else. He'd hurt himself if it was the only way he had of hurting them.

Naobito would cover it up. He'd never, ever want the rest of the clan to find out that it happened. It was already bad enough that Megumi openly hated them--he couldn't have the Zenin seeing any vulnerability in what was meant to be their most powerful member. He'd put Megumi in total lockdown until he could make it all go away.

Then they'd make a deal.

A binding vow. Megumi could never purposefully hurt himself again. He could never again try to leverage his own safety against the clan.

And in exchange, Tsumiki would be taken care of.

The last time Megumi saw his sister, she was on a sinking ship. They were running out of food, money, options--he doesn't know if she even has food anymore. He doesn't know if she lost the apartment or if there's still running water.

They're not letting him see her. But they are letting him take care of her. He can sacrifice another piece of control over himself, and she'll never have to worry about money again. They'll pay for her housing, her food, her education, for her every desire for as long as she lives. The trust the Zenin set up for her will be a generous one, and it will be managed meticulously by a trustee who can make sure she'll be provided for until she's old and grey. And Naobito will vow to never hurt her or send someone else to hurt her. She'll be safe. She'll be taken care of.

Megumi makes the deal.

In the end, the deal's what sort of breaks him.

Because he doesn't promise to stop looking for her, but the Zenin manage to make it a part of the terms anyway. When they approach Tsumiki's mother with the offer to be her family's beneficiary, they include a requirement that Tsumiki be moved to another city entirely with no forwarding address given. She needs to be somewhere that Megumi can never find her again.

The Zenin keep the old apartment. They pay the rent every month. And the next time Megumi manages to make it off compound, they let him make it all the way there before dragging him home. They let him see the empty apartment with all its empty rooms.

Naobito wants him to know that Tsumiki's gone. He wants him to know that he'll never find her again.

He tries to run a few more times after that, but he never makes it very far. He doesn't have anywhere to go.

In the linked post, Megumi finds Tsumiki, just once. She's on a class trip. He's on one of his very few and far between allowed excursions off the compound grounds, and he sees her in the crowd and recognizes her, and he ducks away from his escort before anyone can stop him.

She remembers him. He didn't think she would do that.

She tries to save him. He didn't think she would do that either.

She still loves him. And he was always too afraid to hope she would do that.

It goes the same way it did the first time. There's a car, and the Zenin shove him in it. She's on the outside, and he's trapped within, and he wishes she didn't scream so loudly when it happens. The sound never seems to leave his dreams.

His sister still loves him. Naoya hits him in the back of the head. He wakes up, and it was like she was never there at all.

But they hit him harder, after. Like they're trying to beat the memory of her out of him. He has even less freedom, when he already had next to none at all.

But he still has a sister. He has a place to go that isn't here. He just has to figure out where that is.

He wouldn't really have anyone in the Zenin clan. Most people are just... weird about him. Naoya's violently abusive. Naobito's weird and violently abusive. Everyone wants him to be someone he's not.

Maki would be his favorite.

He doesn't care about whether she's got cursed energy--his sister didn't have any. And she's obviously strong. She doesn't treat him like a divine blessing or try to force him to act a certain way. I think they would have genuinely liked each other, but kept each other at a distance. They're both trapped in an abusive situation and keep themselves safe by keeping everyone else at arm's length.

He would have been happy to see her get out, though. He would have told her that she could have his spot as heir or head or whatever when she came back if she wanted it. She would have told him that if he ever got out... well, fuck it. They could be something then. Family. Whatever the fuck they weren't allowed to be here.

She would have told him she's sorry, and she would have meant it. The only one she she regretted more than Megumi was Maki. He would have told her not to be, that if she dared to be sorry for getting out that he would never forgive her, and he would have meant that too.

I think his relationship with his own techinque would be very different in a world where the Zenin raised him. In canon, his issue is that he doesn't view himself as someone who could be powerful or win in the long run, but in this world, all he ever hears is how powerful he is. Pride of the fucking Zenin. The most powerful of them in centuries. Meant to rival Gojo fucking Satoru himself.

I think his real issue would be controlling it.

His technique would be a source of negative associations for him. It's the reason why the Zenin took him away. Most of his interactions with it have involved getting beaten and hurt by either his family or a high-level curse they shoved him in front of. I think he'd have a lot more firepower under his belt than at the start of canon, but he'd have less of a fine tuned control over it.

He lost control over his own life because of his shadows. It think that would manifest in struggling to control his own shikigami at times. he's not as in-sync with them as he is in canon.

Eventually, he'd go to Jujutsu High. He would be the only one in the first year class at the beginning, just like in canon. And he'd finally meet Gojo Satoru, the man he's supposed to topple.

He looks at Megumi really goddamn weird.

He's... enthusiastic. About. Teaching. He guesses. And constantly asking prying questions about the Zenin, but not in the sort of way he'd expect from a rival. In the sort of way he'd expect from someone concerned about him. Which is stupid. And annoying. And weird. He keeps a distance from everyone. They've all heard about the Zenin clan heir, and he has no interest in having to fit or break whatever mold they've already cast him in. He's better off on his own.

Maki's there. She's cordial where other people can see it, and in private, she takes care of him in a way that's terrifyingly close to familial. He's not sure if he likes it. He's not Mai, and she's not Tsumiki, and they both want someone they can't have.

She isn't sorry she left. She is sorry she left him. He can hate her for it all he goddamn pleases.

Of course, if this is in the same world as the linked post, Megumi finds Tsumiki again. He finds her in Sendai.

He gets to keep her, this time.

Gojo Satoru, of all the goddamn people, intervenes and becomes his sister's benefactor. It's super fucking weird. He won't stop looking at Megumi strangely. He won't stop insisting that he didn't know he had a sister, like that matters.

That would sort of be the first time in a long time that life actually gets better for Megumi.

I think he would ask to go by Fushiguro again, once he asks Tsumiki what his name used to be. He'd ask her if she minded it, him taking the name again, and he'd ask the rest of the school to call him Fushiguro instead of Zenin.

Predictably enough, Naobito loses his shit when he finds out, but it's not nearly as big of a pain in the ass as he thinks it is? Because Gojo intervenes.

Gojo keeps intervening.

It drives Megumi nuts, because if anyone was supposed to hate him, it was this guy. If anyone was supposed to be against him, it was this guy. This is the guy he was supposed to rival. This is the guy who killed his shitheel bio dad.

Gojo's just... good to him. He keeps him safe. He keeps him safe from his own goddamn family, and that's--no one's ever done that. No one's ever protected him from the Zenin.

The Zenin try to remove him from the Tokyo campus and move him to Kyoto the second they find out Tsumiki's there, and Gojo just... says no. It causes an uproar, and he doesn't fucking budge. It's treading dangerously close to him kidnapping the Zenin clan heir, his refusal to let them remove him from the Tokyo campus, and he doesn't care about whatever problems it causes him.

Megumi's his student. He doesn't want to leave. So Gojo won't let them take him.

He personally goes to Kyoto and collects him, the one time the Zenin force him into a car and move him when Gojo's off on a mission. He tells the higher ups to get fucked. He changes Megumi's student I.D. to read Fushiguro, and he causes problems for Yaga and the assistants until they start calling him Fushiguro as well.

Megumi's different with the other students once his sister is there.

He's more connected with them. He becomes best friends with Kugisaki and Itadori. He gets closer with the second years. He's visibly happier, and it sort of casts in sharp contrast how unhappy he was before this.

And Gojo? Gojo's so goddamn sorry. He didn't know megumi had a sister.

The thing is that now that both Tsumiki and Megumi are on campus, it sort of haunts Gojo with what could have been. They're both fantastic kids--funny, smart, resourceful. And it's painful watching them try to rebuild what was taken from them. And it could have just. never happened. Because he could have saved them both. He could have been their family.

It's sort of painfully obvious the Zenin abused Megumi, and it fucking haunts him. He doesn't even have to read into Megumi's behavior--he sees it happen, right in front of him, with how they try to control him and push him around. He wants to kill them for it. He wants to hate himself for it. He could have saved Megumi and he just. He didn't.

He wishes he did.

[fruitsaladgame]

it's the catholic schoolgirl au no one asked for

[kj0ne]

Nct fic rec’s

A collection of some of my favourite fics i have read that are mostly nct but i may add some other groups!

Includes fics/series, smaus, oneshots,drabbles, headcannons and time stamps

S - smut | SG -suggestive | F - fluff

A - angst | M - mature

All credits to the writers! If you would not like your work on here please lmk!

*lm still new to posting on tumblr please lmk if anything is or looks wrong*

(Im a sucker for family au so please expect alot of that here 😅)

Nct wish are not included!

Nct 127

Johnny Suh

Lee Taeyong

Little taste of heaven | M,F,A - @taelme

Part 1 | part 2 | part 3

R U Ridin? | F - @writemekpop

Taeyong is a mafia boss, and he hides it from you... but what happens when his secret gets revealed?

[Newly added] BF! Taeyong in your camera roll | F - @angeliqueiguess

[Newly added] 12:22pm | F - @gyeomsweetgyeom

Nakamoto Yuta

Dad!Yuta | F - @jwirecs

[Newly added] BF! Yuta in your camera roll | F - @angeliqueiguess

[Newly added] Moonstruck | F - @zeroseuniverse

Kim Doyoung

Heaven, fallen | M,F,A - @wincore

6-7am | F - @nctinthehouse

You were beautiful | F,A - @jaelvr

[Newly added] 2:29pm | F - @gyeomsweetgyeom

[Newly added] BF! Doyoung in your camera roll | F - @angeliqueiguess

Jeong Jaehyun

Kim Jungwoo

Hard to say goodbye | F - @by-soleil

1:18pm | F - @gyeomsweetgyeom

Part 2 ⬇️

8:25pm | F - @gyeomsweetgyeom

[Newly added] BF! Jungwoo in your camera roll | F - @angeliqueiguess

Mark and Haechan in dream down below ⬇️

Nct Dream

Mark Lee

Huang Renjun

Beat you at your own game | F - @cafelattaes

y/n has a crush on renjun, who's not that great with people. despite his standoffish nature, she makes an effort to be friendly. but things take a twist when she starts to ignore him.

[Newly added] You ask renjun to teach you chinese, hoping to gather some courage to confess to your crush | F - @ddolbyong

Part 1 | Part 2

[Newly added] BF! Renjun in your camera roll | F @angeliqueiguess

Lee Jeno

Lee Haechan

Na Jaemin

Zhong Chenle

Park Jisung

Wayv

Qian Kun

7:16am | F - @theficblog

[Newly added] BF! Kun in your camera roll | F - @angeliqueiguess

Ten Lee

Just for the night | F - @mae-gi-writes

[Newly added] BF!Ten in your camera roll | F - @angeliqueiguess

WinWin

BF! WinWin in your camera roll | F - @angeliqueiguess

2:16pm | F - @winwintea

11:39pm | F - @honeymark

8:44pm | F - @gyeomsweetgyeom

XiaoJun

BF! Xiaojun in your camera roll | F - @angeliqueiguess

Hendery

Please save Mr. Fishy | F - @solaris-amethyst

You're a vet and he's pleading with you to save his goldfish since you're the only vet he's visited that hasn't asked him if he doesn't just want to go and buy another goldfish for three dollars.

BF! Hendery in your camera roll | F - @angeliqueiguess

YangYang

Drunken souvenir | F - @blue-jisungs

Sounds of strings | A? - @meiideryz

yangyang is a man who would completely back off from people his friends like, but not this one.

[Newly added] BF!YangYang in your camera roll | F - @angeliqueiguess

[Newly added] This Is An Emergency! | F - @sungbeam

Units

Nct 127

Baby 127 calling dad on tour | F - @phoxphenex

Nct dream

Moon and enthusiasm | F - @handlemehyuck

Baby dream calling dad on tour | F - @phoxphenex

Boyfriend texts | F - @handlemehyuck

Orange peel theory | F - @hyuckswoman

7dream nicknames for their partners | F - @swee7dream

Dream on dreaming | F - @diorcities

[Newly added] Waking up with dreamies | F - @lelengerine

[Newly added] Soft spot | F - @jisungchan

don’t believe in love, but no one makes me feel like you do 

when the moment hits them, that they’re in love with you

[Newly added] BF! Dreamies thinking reader cheated | A - @jwisun

WayV

WayV reaction to a pic of them sleeping | F - @tigermark

[Newly added] Making out with wayv | F,SG - @wayvchip

Misc

[Newly added] The serial lover | F,A,SG - @haechanhues

in which a girl farewells every boy she’s ever loved (or at least had romantic feelings for) in order to prove that her feelings for one particular boy are very real and unwavering.

[starlightkun]

➺ word count: 9.3k ➺ genre & warnings: sci-fi, near future, fluff, falling in love without seeing each other, minor hurt/comfort, coworkers au (but in space), space traffic controllers; brief blood/injury mention ➺ synopsis: in which you go to your job as a space traffic controller every day looking forward to your shifts with one specific coworker who you might be falling head over heels for. and sure, you don't know quebec’s real name, nor what he looks like, but you two talk for hours a day between guiding landings and take-offs, and you know him better than anyone else. you’re perfectly happy, until his end of the comms falls silent one day and won’t reconnect ➺ extra info: i recommend being aware of the existence of the icao alphabet so ur not thrown for a complete loop by ppl’s nicknames in here lol. u don’t need it memorized but i swear i didn’t pull these words out of thin air ok. also, in aviation, the number 9 is pronounced niner, ur not going crazy and neither am i ➺ author’s note: agh i had so, so much fun with this one! i know i say that with every new fic, but it’s true! also, i don’t know a whole lot about being an air traffic controller, so this was only loosely based off that (and reader and kun’s jobs are made up anyway), but my dad used to have his pilot’s license and take me flying with him when i was little and i took aviation classes in hs, so i do have a bit of knowledge/experience from that so there’s definitely a lot of influence from american aviation jargon in here (whether or not it’s used correctly is an entirely different thing... we’re in space in the future, after all)

You didn’t immediately see any sign of injury and grabbed his wrist to try to find a pulse. It was faint, but there, and when you put your hand under his nose, you could feel his shallow breaths against your skin. He didn’t rouse, though, and that was when you saw a drop of blood trailing out of his ear.

“Hey, Quebec?” You spoke into the mic, knowing that only one other person could hear you.

“—eah, Zulu?” A familiar man’s voice came through your headset, the very beginning of his sentence cut off as he hadn’t let there be enough still air before he started speaking.

One might think your job lonely or heroic or an opportunity to travel and see some of what the vast Milky Way had to offer. Space Traffic Control was by no means glamorous, and you certainly didn’t feel like a grand figure of mythology in your standard-issue orange jumpsuit that all employees wore on duty, sat at your desk with your feet crossed under you and your mic in one hand as you used the other for leverage against the counter to spin yourself around and around, the various lights on your control panel turning into a starshower before your very eyes. But you quite liked your job. You had the same shift almost every day, so your schedule was predictable, and while the landings and takeoffs that you oversaw were pretty regular thanks to the advancements in space travel, every so often, something fantastic did happen, and you did get to save the day with your quick thinking and directions. You were very rarely thanked or even acknowledged for it, all of the credit and glory going to the pilots, of course, but you didn’t mind—keeping your head down had always best suited you.

And you could never feel alone, even if you were the only person in your control tower. Not when you had Quebec. It was policy to have two controllers on duty at all times, in case of medical emergency (or non-emergency, since even Space Traffic Controllers had to use the bathroom). While you and Quebec weren’t always on shift at the same time, the shifts that you shared with him were by far your favorite. You’d never met in person, nor seen his face, nor even knew his real name, only his call name (Quebec Kilo). But other than that, you knew everything about each other. It wasn’t against any rules for STCs to know each other’s names, but since you only ever used call names on shift, it was pretty pointless to give out your real names.

The landing dock had two towers facing each other, and while they technically did have windows so you could see outside at the approaching spacecraft, even when the lighting was perfect, you could make out no more than a fuzzy, shadowy outline of a person in the window opposite you.

“What did you bring for dinner?”

“Don’t tell me you’re eating your dinner already.” His voice was clearly exasperated.

You hurried to swallow the chip in your mouth before replying. “No…”

“I can hear the food in your mouth.”

“Just a snack!”

“And now you’re going to get hungry again right after dinner and have to go to the vending machine down the hall for another snack and leave me alone with everything.”

“For like five minutes.”

“Remember when that Class-III Tanker came in for an emergency docking while you were on a snack break?”

“Remember every single other time when that didn’t happen, and it was perfectly uneventful?”

He kept his mic on to sigh directly into it, letting you know exactly how he felt. “Just go ahead and eat all of your dinner, why don’t you?”

“Maybe I will,” you bickered back.

“I just brought a rice ball from the convenience store in Sector II,” he answered your question anyway. “And an iced tea.”

“You like to warm your rice balls up or do you eat them cold?”

“I’ve got a salmon one today.”

“Question still stands.”

“Who eats warm salmon and mayo rice balls?”

“Plenty of perfectly normal people.”

He laughed, his disgust from earlier fading away. “You warm up your salmon and mayo onigiri, don’t you?”

“What’s weird about that?” You immediately defended yourself.

“Nothing, I suppose,” he gave in. “I’ve just never thought to try it. Pork, sure. Beef, absolutely. Salmon or tuna? Never.”

“You should try it today. I know that tower has a microwave.”

“Our towers are exactly the same.”

“Almost.”

“What are you leaving me this time? And where?”

You tried to imagine his grin, despite knowing nothing about what he looked. You had decided long ago that he had dimples, one deeper than the other, because that was obviously cuter. And probably straight teeth, since he spoke like he was well educated, which meant his family probably had the money to afford braces if he needed them.

“You’ll find out,” you replied in a sing-songy voice, having already stashed various gifts somewhere around the office. Days in the towers were long and boring, so you’d been teaching yourself more and more complicated origami, always leaving pieces in hiding spots around the tower for Quebec to find the next time he was in there.

The ten STCs were split into two teams of five. Since the station was so large, it was a chore to commute back and forth between the towers every shift. So, each team of five was assigned to one tower, then you’d swap every two months. This meant that your cabin also moved every two months to the opposite side of the station, but you didn’t mind—crew cabins were impersonal and barebones anyway, and different sectors had different offerings in the convenience stores, cafeteria, food court, and just different people. It was a change in scenery even if you were still stuck in the same corner of space.

“And what do you have for dinner, Zu?” He hummed, imitating your tune.

“Well, I just finished my chips,” you sighed with disappointment, tossing the wrapper away. “They were salt and vinegar. But I still have some fruit—honeydew, it’s my favorite—and a leftover sandwich from the caf from yesterday.”

“The fruit—is it imported? From Earth?”

You scoffed. “Pfft! I can’t afford that! You know how much we make! Wait—Unless you’re making more than me. Bec, are you making more than me?”

“No, no, no,” he reassured you with a laugh. “I just thought you might have saved up, since it’s your favorite.”

“It’s my favorite, but I still can’t justify spending that much on something that I’m just going to digest.” You shook your head. “Ag-bubble-grown is perfectly fine for me, thanks.”

“Practical.”

“It’s what I grew up eating. I don’t have a spoiled palate.”

“Like I said, practical.”

A blip appeared on one of your screens, at the same time that all the information on the craft appeared on the screen beside it. “It’s that civilian craft we’ve been waiting for,” you said. “Rock paper scissors?”

“Because that’s always been great via audio,” Quebec chuckled.

“Hundredth time’s the charm.”

“Rock paper scissors, shoot—Rock!” “Paper!”

“See?” He said pointedly, and you imagined him rolling his eyes. “The person who says it always has the disadvantage because of the delay.”

“No, I think you almost had me that time. Really.”

He sighed and cleared his throat, which you took as your cue to turn your mic off. There was another distinct crackle of him turning his outgoing signal on before he started speaking to the incoming spacecraft.

“Space Traffic Control to civilian Sparrow, November-One-One-Niner-Six-Whiskey. Do you copy?”

“Civilian Sparrow November-One-One-Niner-Six-Whiskey, we copy, Space Traffic Control.” The voice of the pilot was even more garbled than yours and Quebec’s, typical not only of civilian spacecraft, but judging by how short the N number was, he had a much, much older craft as well. There had been so many made by now that some N numbers were over 10 characters long and included letters too. After the initial identification was made, the N number would typically be abbreviated to the last three characters to save time, unless another craft was in the area with a similar N number. “We are approaching your portside slightly positive on your z-axis, but we’ll sort that out before we get there, about five minutes out. Do we have permission to land?”

“Control to Sparrow, you are all clear for landing. We’ll see you in a bit.”

“Roger-dodger. Thanks, Control. Fair winds. Sparrow over.”

“Fair winds,” Quebec echoed. “Control over.”

Quebec had hardly turned off his outgoing feed when you caught another blip on your screen, this one you weren’t expecting, approaching quickly. You frowned as Quebec cursed under his breath, the information on the spacecraft once again reading out underneath the information on the Sparrow. This was also a civilian craft, slightly larger than the Sparrow, and definitely newer, the N number at least 10 digits long by the look of it.

“Space Traffic Control to civilian Hummingbird, November-Zero-India—”

“Yeah, copy,” the pilot of the new spacecraft cut Quebec off.

“I need to finish identifying your craft,” he said through gritted teeth. “Civilian Hummingbird, November-Zero-India-Zero-Zero-Seven-Four-Two-Zero-Juliet-Foxtrot-Niner-Eight-Delta. Do you copy?”

There was a long bout of silence, so Quebec asked again, “Hummingbird Niner-Eight-Delta, do—”

“Yeah, I copy, didn’t you hear me the first five times?” The pilot was clearly irritated now, and so were you and Quebec.

“Were you holding the button to turn your mic on the first five times?” Your coworker asked.

“I’m landing in like, two minutes. It’s clear, right?”

“No.”

“What?!”

“We don’t have your flight on file, and there’s another spacecraft that did put their landing request in ahead of time that we’re expecting to land within the next five minutes. So, no,” Quebec reiterated with no sympathy. “Do an orbit. An eccentric one.”

The pilot sputtered indignantly before declaring, “This is an emergency!”

“All readings from your vessel indicate that it’s in perfect condition. Brand new, even. What is the nature of your emergency? Please give us specific details so we can assist.”

You, meanwhile, were glad that your mic was muted, because you were keeled over at your desk laughing, wiping at the tears being forced from your eyes.

Clearly unable to think of a specific emergency scenario, the Hummingbird pilot gave up. “Fine! I’ll orbit and land in ten minutes.”

“We will process your landing request and let you know if you have permission to land.” There was no response from the pilot, but Quebec nevertheless said, “Control over.”

“Hummingbird over,” he finally replied, not hiding how peeved he was.

The dot signifying the Hummingbird changed course, beginning an oblong orbit around the space station that would thankfully take it out of the path of the incoming Sparrow.

“Asshole,” Quebec muttered over your internal frequency.

“Just because we’re not near any major planet doesn’t mean they can show up unannounced and expect to land whenever they want,” you scoffed. “Nobody seems to get that we’re the last station around for light-years, so everybody stops in. Which is why they’re trying to land in the first place.”

“You would think they’d think about that, but no,” he sighed. “Everybody assumes nobody exists outside their own ship. Including us. We’re just disembodied voices to them.”

“I wonder how many people think they’re talking to an automated system when they talk to us.”

“Lots, I’m sure.”

A few minutes later, the Sparrow landed with no issues, and you waved to the quaint ship of various patchwork panels of tan and browns as it came in, despite the pilot being unable to see you. It was just something you liked to do.

“Bec?”

“Yeah, Zu?”

“You want me to let the Hummingbird know their landing has been approved?”

He groaned. “No, but better you than me.”

You snickered, composing yourself right before turning your external comms on, establishing a connection to the Sparrow with a flick of a switch. “Space Tower Control to civilian Hummingbird Niner-Eight-Delta, do you copy?”

“Where’s the other guy?” The pilot asked, surprise evident in his tone. He was clearly ready for a round two.

“Control to civilian Hummingbird Niner-Eight-Delta, do you copy?” You repeated in your most neutral, artificial customer service voice.

“As long as he stays gone,” he grumbled. His time-out imposed by Quebec had clearly done him no good. “Yeah, this is civilian Hummingbird Niner-Eight-Delta. I copy, Control.”

“Your landing request has been approved. In the future, please submit your landing requests at least twelve standard Earth hours prior to arrival in non-emergency cases.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“What’s your ETA, Hummingbird?”

“1743.”

“Copy. Fair winds, Hummingbird. Control over.”

“Fair winds,” he repeated unenthusiastically. “Hummingbird over.”

The Hummingbird was of course a sleek ship, slightly larger than the Sparrow in size, but all smooth, thin, long shapes and a glossy scarlet red paint job with chrome accenting. You flipped it off as it glided by to dock with the space station.

After coming back from your late-night vending machine break, you catapulted yourself back into your rolly chair with enough momentum to roll back up to your station with no extra movements needed. Putting your headset back on, you announced into your mic, “I’m back!”

“No disasters,” Quebec reported dryly. “This time.”

“You’re never gonna let me live that down, huh?” You clicked your tongue.

“No.”

“Anyway, I got cookies, in case you were curious,” you told him cheerily. “And information!”

“What sort of information?”

“There was a paper on the bulletin board by the vending machine advertising skiing lessons on Nixu for this upcoming snow season. Starts in just a couple months. You know what that means?”

“We’re about to get all their tourists coming through here on their way to go ski and snowboard and whatever else,” he sighed. “For the next three Nixiun years.”

“Yup!” You confirmed through your bite of cookie. “How many standard years is that? Five? Ten?”

“Too many.”

“Well, Nixiun summer was peaceful while it lasted. For the whole six months.”

“God, have we really been working here for that long?”

“We started within a couple weeks of each other, I think. My one year’s coming up.”

“My one year was a few days ago.”

“Aw, and you didn’t tell me?” You gasped in betrayal. “I would’ve done something!”

“It’s fine, Zulu. I think I was on shift with Pops anyway.” Pops—another one of the Space Traffic Controllers on your team, an older man who happened to be assigned the call name Golf Papa (shortened to Pops).

“Yeah, but you and me are like—” You gesticulated wildly as you scrambled for the right word. “You know?”

“No, not really,” he laughed. “I need you to elaborate a little bit more.”

“We’re Quebec and Zulu, you know? Bec and Zu.” You could see your pout in the reflection of the glass window as you looked out at Quebec’s control tower across from you. “I know we’re all close but you and me are like extra. Right?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Quebec agreed without a hint of sarcasm or jest. “When’s your one year? I want to make sure I don’t miss it.”

“In six days. I expect fireworks,” you teased.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“We’re working together that day, I think.” You pulled up the schedule on your computer connected to the ship’s intranet. “Yeah, the 1600 to 2400 shift again. It’s starred, we’re going to have a VIP that shift.”

“What about the day before?”

You hummed as you looked it over. “Wednesday… I’m off, and you are on the 2400 to 0800 shift with Uni. You have a lot of time between shifts on Wednesday and Thursday at least. Ooh… never mind.”

“What?”

“You’ve got alt shifts Tuesday-Wednesday. You’re on 0800 to 1600 Tuesday with Uni.”

With 8-hour shifts and two controllers needing to be on shift at a time, your supervisors tried to give you at least two shifts—16 hours—off between when you were scheduled to allow for adequate rest and downtime. Being scheduled for alternating shifts, on, off, then back on (or god forbid, double shifts), was a nightmare for trying to get any rest, errands, or other personal time in.

“Let me see this,” he mumbled, presumably pulling it up on his own monitor. A few moments later, he groaned. “Kill me now.”

“Hey, I’ve got the 1600 shift Tuesday with Indy,” you scoffed. “I’ll kill you if you kill me.”

“Ah, he’s not so bad…”

“You interact with him for all of five minutes when you swap, I have to deal with him for the whole eight hours.”

“Our crew quarters are near each other, actually. We’ve grabbed lunch.”

You clutched your chest as your jaw dropped in horror. “I thought we were friends, Bec, and now I find out you’ve grabbed lunch with my archnemesis?”

“Normal people don’t have archnemeses, Zu.”

“Well I—” A blip popped up on your screen and you quickly switched your comms over to address the incoming ship. “Space Traffic Control to military Wasp, Kilo-Five-Five-Eight. Do you copy?”

Military ships didn’t have N numbers like civilian crafts, instead they had a much shorter ID number. The first letter indicated the classification of the vessel, while the numbers after were unique to that ship.

“Military Wasp Kilo-Five-Five-Eight to Space Traffic Control, we copy,” the pilot replied automatically. “We’re not looking to dock, just requesting a conditions report.”

“Nothing major in the past twenty-four hours and nothing expected in the next forty-eight. Sending the full specs to your ship now,” you said, quickly doing so on your computer.

A few moments later, she confirmed, “Received. Thanks, Control. We’ll be heading out now.”

“Fair skies. Control over.”

“And following seas. Wasp over.”

It seemed a bit silly to you when you started as an STC, to say an old Naval blessing every time you ended a conversation with someone, considering that you were in space so there were no skies or seas to speak of. But soon it became second nature to you. You found that most civilians just echoed ‘fair skies’ back to you, but military personnel would actually complete the phrase.

As soon as you had turned your outgoing feed off, you got right back into it with Quebec, closing your eyes and putting a hand over your chest as you went on with your impassioned opinion, “I think having an archnemesis livens things up. Especially around here.”

“I thought that’s what I was for?” He teased.

“Do you want to be my archnemesis instead?”

“Could be fun.” You imagined him shrugging with a lopsided grin on his face. “Are you taking applications?”

“Only for you.”

“Ooh, I feel so special.”

“Yeah, well I’m tired of wasting time and brainpower on Indy of all fucking people.” You kicked your feet up on the desk, eyes focused on the other tower now as you grinned at it. You always left shifts with Quebec with sore cheeks. “I need someone more on my level anyway.”

“Are you saying if I become your archnemesis then you’ll think about me all the time?” His voice curled around your ear, still playful but not quite the same friendly banter as before. You weren’t sure when it started, but there were moments like this, between your taunting, and poring your hearts out to each other, and rousing games of audio rock-paper-scissors, and actual work, that the mood… shifted.

You bit the tip of your thumb to keep from literally screaming, taking a second to compose yourself before answering. “Mm… maybe.”

“Because then you’re already my archnemesis.”

Muting your mic, you then literally screamed and pumped your fist into the air victoriously. After a deep inhale, you turned your mic back on, unable to contain your giddiness in your one-word question, “Really?”

A hand landed on your shoulder, and you let out an embarrassing yelp directly into the mic, whipping around to see the STC who was taking the next shift from you. “Fucking—Delta! What the fuck, man?”

Quebec was now laughing directly in your ear over the headset, and you took one ear off to hear what Delta said back to you.

“I’ve been here for the past two minutes. I thought you saw the light.” He indicated to the red light above your station that flashed when someone opened the door to your tower. You must’ve had your eyes shut when Delta came in and missed the signal. Delta looked entirely unamused and a little disgusted as he looked down at you, continuing, “Anyway, I’m ready and I can’t listen to you and Quebec do… whatever that is anymore.”

Your stomach dropped out of your ass at his words. What the hell did your conversation with Bec sound like to other people? Apparently bad. You barely knew Delta, only interacting with him during shift hand-offs, and, yeah, he seemed a bit uptight, but still, this was embarrassing.

Quebec was no longer laughing, now coughing and sputtering on the other end of the line too. You meekly put the mic back on the desk and took the headset off, handing it over to Delta. He took disinfectant wipes to the headset, waving them in the air for the solution to dry before putting them on and taking the seat which you had just vacated. You shuffled over to the table by the door where your bag was, as well as the IN/OUT log, which you signed before hurrying out.

Returning to the hall where your crew cabin was, you walked by an open door and stopped to poke your head in, beaming at the woman sitting on her bunk. “Hey, Uni!”

“Hey, Zulu,” the STC on your team—Uniform Lima was her full call name—lifted her hand in greeting. “Just get off shift?”

“Yeah, I was going to grab something to eat and head to the gym before sleeping. Want to come?”

“I already worked out, but I could eat,” she agreed.

“Let me get out of my jumpsuit then we can go. You pick.”

Indy was the only STC who was a gym rat to your knowledge, but being in space, working out and supplements were just a fact of life in order to prevent muscle atrophy and other deterioration of your body. You were used to it, having spent plenty of time on spaceships growing up. Going to the gym with a buddy made the mandatory exercise regimen go by a lot quicker.

After changing into casual clothes appropriate for the gym, you grabbed Uni and headed out. She was a few years older than you, not nearly Pops’ age, but you knew she had been here for a little while before you started. Uni was a tall woman, tall enough that you had to crane your neck a little to look up at her, with dark black hair that she kept cropped close to her head. There were a few premature specks of grey at the back, which you never mentioned to her in case she hadn’t noticed.

“You were on shift with Quebec today?” She asked casually.

“Hm? Oh, yeah,” you answered. “You… checked the schedule?”

“Just to see when I was working. You had your dopey little smile on, so I figured.”

You covered your mouth with both your hands, squinting at her over them. “What are you talking about?”

“No, I think it’s cute. You guys are so cute when you talk about each other.”

“He talks about me?!”

She burst into laughter, fondly patting the top of your head. “Gotcha.”

“You’re mean,” you huffed, swatting her hand away. “Mean and awful and a liar—”

“I wasn’t lying!” You friend defended herself. “He does talk about you when we’re on shift. And it is very cute, too. I just also gotcha by bringing it up.”

The two of you had arrived at the food court that never closed, and she started towards one of the options. You followed, not caring where you ate right now, and also desperately needing to continue this conversation.

“What does he say, Uni?” You pleaded, shaking her by the arm as you got in the short line. Time was pretty meaningless on a space station in the middle of nowhere, constantly getting travelers arriving and departing, so people ate whenever they pleased. The only ones who tended to keep a pretty regular schedule were the crew—except STCs, of course.

“He talks about you the most, out of all the STCs. It’s always Zulu this, Zu that. He knows we’re friends, so he asks about how you’re doing if you guys haven’t been scheduled together for a while, stuff like that.”

You dug your toe into the metal panel under you as you thought about it. Suddenly, your friend was pinching your cheek and cooing at you, “Cute!”

“Uni!” You whined and smacked her hand away, cradling your now-tender skin. She laughed as the two of you shuffled up in line.

The days all tended to blur together on the space station if you weren’t careful. Time was pretty meaningless in the middle of nowhere with no seasons or daylight to give your body cues. STCs mostly relied on shifts and tower cycles as units of time—the duration of a shift, and how long you were assigned to one tower before you moved to the opposite side of the station.

You were back on shift with Quebec, and so far, it had been a busy one. You’d barely had time to breathe between arrivals and departures, much less chitchat. Finally, during what seemed to be a lull, you pulled out your bag of food from your bag.

“Alright, that’s it,” you huffed. “I’m eating dinner.”

“What do you have tonight?” He asked.

“Didn’t have time to run to the convenience store today so it’s just some snacks and stuff I had in my room. Might have to make a vending machine run, sorry.”

“Look in the minifridge.”

“What? Did you rig it to explode?” You pushed your rolling chair back to grab the edge of the fridge, pulling the door open to peer inside.

“You’ll just have to find out.”

A plastic container greeted you, and you grabbed it, already spotting something green inside. Setting it and your mic back down on your desk, you took the lid off with a pop, eyes bugging out of your head as you looked at the green and white cubes. The color and shine alone told you that these weren’t grown in an ag-bubble, these were imported straight from Earth.

“Quebec…” You breathed out in awe. “You did not.”

“You can’t justify spending that much on something you’re going to digest, but I can,” he replied kindly. “Go ahead, eat. Happy one year at the station.”

“I didn’t even remember that was today,” you admitted.

You grabbed a cube between your fingers, not bothering to find utensils. The best part was licking your fingers after, in your opinion. The fruit was juicy and sweet, no bitterness from the rind at all, and so much more flavor than ag-bubble fruit could ever develop. You felt tears well up in your eyes, embarrassingly.

“God, it’s so good. Thank you,” you mumbled through your half-eaten honeydew. “I wish I could share it with you right now.”

“No, don’t worry about me,” he said, and you heard a faint pop of another plastic lid opening on his end of the line. “They were selling it by weight. I had them send some to your tower and some to mine.”

You smiled at the tower across the landing dock. “We are sharing it right now.”

“Yeah, we are.”

“Have you ever been on a picnic, Bec? Like, a real one, outside on a blanket with a picnic basket on the grass with fresh air and food and your friends and family?”

“Once, when I was really little. I don’t remember much about it. My mom showed me a picture,” he mused. “Have you, Zu?”

“No, never. I was born on a mining colony. Never breathed fresh air in my life, or been to Earth. Always been in ships, stations like this, or firmaments.” Firmaments—man-made structures on the surface of planets whose conditions were not naturally habitable for humans. Within the firmaments, the air quality, pressure, temperature, and planet’s surface could be regulated in order to allow for human survival. The actual mining typically happening outside of the firmaments, however, and that was only one reason that it was so dangerous—and lucrative.

“What about your parents?”

“They weren’t born on Earth either, never saw the big deal about going to visit.” You shrugged, popping another piece of melon in your mouth. “What about you?”

“My parents were born on Earth. They wanted me to be born there too, but I came a little early while they were on a trip to a nearby resort planet. The closest hospital was on its moon…”

“Did you grow up on Earth then?”

“Visited after I was born, went back and forth for a good bit of my childhood, but my parents just liked traveling too much to stay in one place.”

“My family moved around a lot too. Mining pays good, but you have to move with the materials. There’s always some hot new mineral in vogue that’s paying more than the last thing everyone wanted. You never want to stick around until a mine dries up.”

“How long does that take? Like, how much did you move around?”

“Depends. Sometimes we were there for a few weeks or months, sometimes years.”

Quebec was quiet for a moment, and you took the opportunity to eat two more pieces of honeydew. Then, he said, “Zulu?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you take this job? All the way out here?”

“I didn’t want to work in the mines with my parents my whole life. Saw the opening and figured I might as well give it a go,” you answered simply. “What about you?”

“Kind of similar. More desperate, I think,” he admitted. “I was in med school, actually, and I was absolutely miserable. Just at rock fucking bottom. I told my parents I was going to quit and they said I couldn’t unless I either enrolled in law school, or got a job. This was the first one I found.”

You blinked, watching the dark dot in the window across from you. “Wow. I don’t think you’ve ever told me that.”

“Haven’t talked to anybody about it since coming here.”

“Why’d you ask me that then? You had to have figured I would’ve turned the question back on you.”

“I… don’t think I knew I was going to tell you that until I said it.”

“You know you can always talk about whatever with me, Bec.”

“I know,” he replied warmly. “Same for you. I’m all ears.”

“So you quit med school, took the first job you could find and just happened to find something you liked doing?”

“No,” he chuckled. “I did not take to being an STC at all initially. I wanted to quit after my first week. I was on this stupid station in the middle of nowhere starting all over again at a job that paid considerably less than the surgeon I was supposed to be. I was miserable, and lost, and kept thinking that they were right and I should just put my head down and be a doctor or a lawyer or whatever. It felt like I could’ve disappeared from the universe and nobody would notice.” He sighed, and you felt your heart twist in your chest. “Then during my second week, another new STC started, and we ended up on a shift together. And you said—there’s no way you remember this, Zulu, it’s so… but—What do you remember about that shift?”

You rifled through your memories desperately for something, anything specific, but came up empty. “Not much, I mean, it was like my second one, I think. So I was still pretty nervous about doing everything right, and I remember meeting you, but I don’t think we even talked much outside of small talk, right?”

“That’s great. I mean it, I love that you’re just like this, that you weren’t trying to do it,” he laughed with his whole chest, and you smiled fondly, not feeling like he was laughing at you at all. “Anyway, it was pretty dead that shift, and in one of the quiet times, you got on the mic and you told me to look outside. I thought there was a ship or something going on. But then you said, ‘I’ve never seen these stars before.’ Which made me realize I hadn’t even looked at the stars since arriving at the station. At the end of the shift, you said, ‘Talk to you next time, Quebec.’ And I decided ‘sure, I’ll stick around until next time, see what else she’ll say.’” His words made you snicker softly, and he continued, “And then you just kept saying these little, interesting things, or things that made me smile for the first time in years, or you’d ask questions and let me talk about whatever I wanted… I kept putting off quitting until I wasn’t half-bad at being an STC and didn’t hate living at the station anymore.”

“Bec…” You murmured, fidgeting with the wire of your headset. “Do—”

A dot popped up on your monitor then, and Quebec said, “Ah, there’s the ambassador.”

Because of where you were in space, the last station for a very long while along the intergalactic travel routes in this region, it wasn’t unusual for you to receive special arrivals. Politicians, ambassadors, military leaders, celebrities, you’ve seen a lot in your one year as an STC. Today, an ambassador from Earth was stopping over on their way to an intergalactic peace conference. You and Quebec had received the briefing for the landing in advance to your crew emails, so the ship information that appeared along with the dot was already familiar to you. When the VIPs were of this caliber, all of the higher-ups on the ship would be at the docking port to greet them. The protocols for landing were also slightly different, meaning that having two STCs was necessary for much of it.

“Space Traffic Control to military Heavy, Papa-Zero-Four-Niner. Do you copy?” Quebec took over the initial paging.

“Military Heavy, Papa-Zero-Four-Niner to Control, we copy,” the pilot’s voice came back quickly. “Sending out recognition codes…”

An incoming message from the Heavy flashed up on your screen, and you accepted. Quebec read his out first, then you got on the mic to read out your three-number code.

“Great, thanks,” the pilot acknowledged. “Are we clear for landing?”

“Yes,” Quebec confirmed.

The two of you seamlessly worked through the pre-landing protocols with the Heavy’s pilot. Finally, you just had to wait for the craft to get closer before you could begin the next phase: landing. The pilot dropped off the comms momentarily to address something internally, promising to get back on when it was time to begin the landing. That just left you and Quebec again.

“Wonder why they even keep having these intergalactic peace conferences,” he mused. “They only invite the factions that are already at peace, never the ones with any tension.”

“It’s symbolic, I guess,” you shrugged. “Maybe they talk about how to go about achieving peace with the ones that aren’t there? Or to promote continued peace among the ones that are there?”

“It’d probably be worse to stop at this point, huh?”

“Yeah, might not look good if they stopped holding the intergalactic peace conference that’s been going on for the past couple decades.”

“Still, Th’irin always has something to say about—” A heavy clunk punctuated the end of his words, followed by silence. Not fuzzy silence, like when the mic was on but the person on the other end was quiet. Dead silence, like the mic had been shut off entirely.

“Bec?” You said uncertainly. Someone must have come into his tower, and he was addressing them off-mic.

When he still hadn’t responded a minute later, even to tell you to hold on or wait a minute, you started getting nervous. Sitting forward in your seat, you futzed with cover on your microphone as you called into it again.

“Quebec? You there?”

Nothing.

You paged him properly this time, hitting the button to flash the lights in his tower as you enunciated as clearly as possible, “Space Traffic Control Tower One to Tower Two, Quebec Kilo, do you copy?”

At the same time, your hands rushed to send a message to him via the STC system.

[TOWER1: Q? DO YOU COPY?]

Your heartbeat was thudding in your ears as you desperately went to send another message via the ship intranet to your superiors instead. As soon as you had started drafting it, though, you cursed under your breath and deleted it. They would be down at the dock waiting to receive the ambassador, not at their usual stations with monitors ready to receive emergency alerts from the STC towers.

“Military Heavy to Control, do you copy?” The pilot’s voice cut through the sound of your heartbeat, and you banged your fist on the desk in frustration. You quickly went into the system and switched it over to be a dual STC setup on your monitors since Quebec apparently wasn’t going to be able to help.

Turning your outgoing feed back on, you confirmed, “Control to Heavy, we copy.”

Now with both set of STC controls, you had to move twice as fast to input everything and go through the landing protocols with the pilot. All the while, in the back of your mind, the black put of worry in your stomach only grew and grew.

In between operations, you were drafting a new message, this time to the other STCs. You doubted any of them were going to be checking their staff emails not on duty, but you needed some kind of help. It was a succinct SOS, and you had to focus back in on landing the ambassador’s ship again, and sent it off without another thought.

“Your partner’s quiet,” the pilot commented, their tone light, and you knew they meant nothing by it. “Did you guys rock paper scissors for who would take what parts?”

“Mm, yeah,” you forced out a laugh through gritted teeth, smacking the page button for Quebec’s tower again—just in case.

The light in your tower flashed, and your heart nearly exploded with hope that it was Quebec signaling back to you, that something had just gone awry with his mic and he was still there. Then a hand tapped your shoulder, and you were thrown back into despair again.

It was Pops, the lines on his forehead clear as he furrowed his brows in confusion. He held his digipad out to you, your SOS message on it. You held a finger up to gesture for him to wait a moment as you were receiving pertinent information from the pilot.

“Seven-Five, Two-Zero,” you echoed, entering the numbers as you said them. “Copy.”

Taking one ear of your headphones off, you switched your outgoing comms off before immediately rambling, “It’s Quebec! He dropped off the mic like five minutes ago and he’s not answering, Pops!”

The older man held his hands out in a ‘calm down’ motion. “You’re sure he’s not just getting a snack?”

“No, no, he’d tell me! It was in the middle of his sentence, and we’re literally landing an ambassador’s ship right now!” You sputtered out, gesticulating between your controls and the large ship right outside your window. “He wouldn’t just leave! Something’s wrong!”

His jaw set and he gave one solemn nod. “How far are you?”

“The rest is automated now. But I can’t—”

“I’ll monitor,” he cut you off. “You go check on Quebec.”

“He’s all the way—”

“Now, Zulu!”

You shot to your feet and threw your headphones off and onto the desk. Running from the control room, you didn’t even stay to see Pops take over the station like you’re supposed to.

The space station was huge. It was a thirty-minute walk on a good day from one side to the other, but now that you had fully been overtaken by panic, all of the worst-case scenarios playing in your mind, your stomach consuming itself in fear and anxiety crushing your lungs, it felt insurmountable. Probably your only saving grace was the fact that word had gotten around about the ambassador’s arrival, so lots of people were down on the observation decks above the landing bay to watch the ship dock rather than milling through all the halls that you were currently sprinting through. Even the crew-only shortcuts that you had access to—which you knew were faster—felt like agony to wait for. Standing around in the elevators felt like standing in lava despite the fact that you knew they were moving 100x faster than it felt. The crew corridors were narrower, and you cut corners too close, banging your shoulder or elbow a few times. In your impatience, you lost the location of Tower 2 a couple times on the directory when selecting your destination in a transporter, screaming and kicking the wall in frustration. The pain distracted you from all the what-ifs, and grounded you back into this moment, so you didn’t actually mind it much.

You clutched the handles of Tower 2’s elevator so tightly your fingertips went numb, gnawing on your bottom lip until well past the point you tasted blood. Finally, you were at the control room, and you damn near pried the doors open yourself. Pushing yourself through the doors as they opened, you probably bruised your shoulder again, but you hardly registered it.

Under the red light that flashed to announce your arrival, a man was sprawled on the floor between the chair and the control station. You ran over, pulling the chair away to reach him. He was face-down, and you took his headphones off to roll him over.

“Quebec!” You shook his shoulder a little less than gently.

You didn’t immediately see any sign of injury and grabbed his wrist to try to find a pulse. It was faint, but there, and when you put your hand under his nose, you could feel his shallow breaths against your skin. He didn’t rouse, though, and that was when you saw a drop of blood trailing out of his ear.

“Oh, God,” you muttered, scrambling to your feet to lunge for the bright blue medical emergency button by the door. The button lit up, and you ran back to grab his headphones and mic.

“—ation EMTs will be at your location in less than two minutes. Please communicate the nature of your emergency if you’re able,” the dispatcher’s voice requested.

“I just found the STC in this tower passed out. He’s got blood coming out of his ear and he won’t wake up,” you said.

“Do you know how long he’s been in this state?”

“Twenty minutes?”

“Okay. Any sign of injury?”

“No, nothing. He was fine, he was talking and just, I don’t know, collapsed I think!” You didn’t mean to snap at the dispatcher, but you were freaked out by how little you knew.

“Alright, okay. I understand. The EMTs will be there very soon. Can you stay on the line with me in the meantime?”

“Yeah.”

“Who is the patient?”

“An STC—call name Quebec Kilo.”

“And who are you?”

“I’m an STC too. Zulu Echo. We were on shift and he just dropped off the mic in the middle of a landing.”

“Got it, got it.”

“Where the EMTs?” You asked, feeling for Quebec’s breaths again.

“They’re in the elevator now.”

The elevator door opened then, and your throat seized up anxiously. “They’re here. Thank you.”

“I’ll hang up now. Goodbye, Zulu Echo.”

You took the headphones off as the two EMTs swarmed Quebec’s body, watching them start evaluating his vitals with their field scanner.

“We have the information you gave dispatch,” one EMT informed you. “We’re going to take him to the infirmary in this sector.”

You grabbed the edge of the desk to pull yourself to your feet. “I’ll—”

“Elevator isn’t big enough for all of us,” the other informed you regretfully as they had started loading him onto a stretcher. “You can take the next one.”

“Right. I’ll be right behind you.”

You watched them take him out, and as soon as the elevator doors closed behind them, felt your knees buckle under you. Barely catching yourself against the desk, your eyes filled with tears, which you barely saw the flash of a red light through. The elevator wasn’t opening again, though, so you figured it must be a page.

Picking up the headphones and mic, you kept it on the internal system as you croaked, “Pops?”

“Oh, Zulu, there you are,” his relief was evident in his voice. “How is he?”

“Bad, I think,” you confessed, tears slipping down your face. “He was out cold, and there was blood coming from his ear. The EMTs took him—”

“You know where?”

“Sector 2 infirmary.”

“So what are you doing still talking to me?”

“Right. Bye, Pops.”

Your hands were trembling as you set the headphones down on the desk. With a trembling breath, you recalled the elevator. It was empty when you stepped on, and you numbly selected down. The infirmary was close by to the tower, and you wiped your eyes in the hall outside before entering.

It was eerily empty, and your stomach dropped. You dug your nails into your palm to try to get control of yourself again. Finally, a nurse came out of the hallway and into the main hallway where you were, clearly surprised when he spotted you.

“Sorry about that.” He focused a frazzled smile on you. “How can I help you?”

You were sure you were mirroring his expression. “I’m here to see somebody. He should’ve just come in with the EMTs…?”

“Yes, the doctors are working on him.” He pointed over his shoulder. “I’ll take you to where you can wait.”

You were put into a small patient room with a bed and one chair. After pacing for who knows how long, your feet finally got tired enough that you sat down in the chair. You didn’t sit for very long before you were back on your feet, pacing again. That repeated at least three times before you finally heard something from the hall.

Your eyes were already on the doorway when a gurney was pushed in, Quebec laying atop it. Stepping out of the way of the two nurses who transferred him from the gurney to the bed and started hooking him up the monitoring equipment, you were then pulled aside by the doctor who had come in with them.

“Are you a friend?” She asked.

“Yeah, we work together,” you confirmed. “I called it in.”

“Good timing,” she commented lightheartedly. She filled you in on the issue—most of the specifics went over your head, but it didn’t sound good—then gave you the prognosis, “We plugged everything back up. He’ll have a headache for a few days, and needs to take it easy for the next week. But other than that, he’ll be fine.”

“Really?” You couldn’t believe your ears.

“How far medicine has come, huh?” She chuckled. “Something like that would’ve killed him a decade ago. But he can go on like it never happened now.”

You looked over at where Quebec’s eyes were still closed, still unable to calm your panicked heart despite the doctor’s reassuring words and relaxed demeanor. “When will he wake up?”

“An hour or so.” She nodded towards the door. “If there’s nothing else, I’ve got a couple other patients to check on.”

“Oh, go for it.”

“Push the call button if you need anything, or just holler. Small infirmary, someone will hear you.”

With her departure, it was just you and Quebec. You pulled the chair up to his bedside, gathering your knees to your chest in a self-soothing grasp. His heart monitor beeped steadily in the background, and you noticed that his hand was hanging off the bed a little bit, so you reached forward to pick it up and rest it over his abdomen like his other one. There was a small piece of gauze affixed under his ear, and you recognized it as the ear that had been bleeding earlier.

“I’m never letting you live this down, Quebec,” you stated through a sniffle. “Every time you bring up that Tanker showing up while I was at the vending machine, I’m going to bring up you passing out while we were in the middle of landing an ambassador’s ship.”

He continued resting, chest rising up and down.

“So you better wake up soon, so I can start teasing you.” You poked his shoulder before taking your hand back and wrapping your arm around your knees again.

For the first time since you entered Tower 2, you took a moment to process what Quebec actually looked like. Dark brown hair, bangs falling out of the way of his forehead and pieces curling around his ears, and a freckle under his right eyebrow.

You sighed, chewing on the inside of your cheek. Of all the times you’d let yourself daydream about finally meeting Quebec in person, this was absolutely not how it went. Usually, it was something like bumping into each other while you were switching crew cabins, or you just so happened to go to a more centrally located place to eat and started talking to a handsome stranger and found out that it was him. Funny enough, you never thought of actually asking Quebec to hang out off-shift. You were more than happy with what you had, fully content with the knowledge that nobody in the universe knew him better than you, and vice versa. So what if other people knew what he looked like or knew his real name? That never felt important.

Before you realized it, your eyes were fluttering shut, your ears continuing to listen to the rhythm of the vitals monitor. Eventually, a confused grunt caught your attention, and you looked up quickly.

Quebec was hesitantly squinting one eye open, rubbing his other as he seemed to be struggling to adjust to the bright lights in the room. You stayed quiet as you let him wake up a little more and acclimate, getting two eyes open and blinking as he registered first the hospital gown he was wearing and infirmary bed he was laying in, then did a sweep around the room, brown gaze landing on you.

“Hey, Bec,” you greeted him gently, offering a small smile. “How do you feel?”

“Zu?” His voice was hoarse, gaze unblinking as he reached a hand towards you.

“Yeah, it’s me,” you confirmed, taking his hand between both of yours. “You had uhm, a problem. The doctor can explain—But you’re better now.”

He clutched his head, and you winced sympathetically.

“Your head will hurt for a bit, but other than that, all better,” you corrected yourself. “You feel okay?”

He nodded, sitting up a little straighter. “You came all the way here?”

“You passed out in the middle of us landing the ambassador’s ship,” you told him frankly, a hint of teasing in your tone. But your voice wavered as you added, “I was worried sick. Found you on the floor of the tower.”

“Ah, sorry. Thank you.” He squeezed your hand.

“No way I was going to let you die, Quebec. I mean—What if they started putting me with Indy instead?”

He was just staring at you, mouth parted, before a soft smile came across his features, two dimples marking his cheeks. “I knew it.”

“Knew what?” You chuckled nervously.

“That you’d be the most beautiful person I’d ever seen.”

You covered your face as you laughed and shook your head. “Quebec—”

“Kun.”

“What?”

“That’s my real name,” he hummed. “Qian Kun.”

“Kun,” you sighed fondly. “I knew you’d have dimples.”

“What?” He giggled, touching one of his cheeks. “You could hear my dimples?”

“It was a hunch.”

He looked down at the IV in his arm. “They’ve got me on some good stuff.”

“Yeah, they do,” you agreed.

“I mean it, though.”

“Mean what?”

Kun turned over on his side to face you. “You’re beautiful, Zulu.”

You traced the lines of his brows, his freckle, his eyes, his nose, the curve of his smile, his cupid’s bow, and his jaw with your eyes. “Y/N. That’s my name. Y/L/N Y/N.”

He mouthed it to himself first, slowly, then said it aloud, “Y/N. Thank you.”

“I’m really glad you’re okay, Kun.” You pressed a fleeting kiss to his hand that you were still holding. “Really.”

You kicked your feet up on the desk, tapping your toes in the air along to an imaginary beat. Clicking your internal comms line on, you asked, “So what are you doing after this?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Kun immediately teased back.

“Yeah, that’s why I asked, asshole,” you scoffed.

“Ouch, first day back on the job and this is how I’m treated?”

“Doctor said you’re fine, no need to throw yourself a pity party.”

He laughed, but answered your question nevertheless. “Gym and then dinner. Missed enough required exercise thanks to that little incident I’m going to start withering away.”

“I’ll have to find another archnemesis if you do.”

“So I am your archnemesis.” His grin was audible, and you could perfectly imagine it now, bright and dimpled. “Well, I can’t have you thinking about anybody else.”

You looked over your shoulder before offering, “Want some company?”

“Sure. Sector 1?”

“Damn, you really that afraid of withering away you’re willing to come all the way over here?”

“I was being a gentleman—”

“Wait, your favorite restaurant is in the Sector 1 food court,” you said knowingly. “Would that have anything to do with it?”

“It’s a win-win—you don’t have to come all the way over here, I get to see you…”

“And eat at your favorite spot,” you snickered. “Smart, Bec.”

“I would’ve offered even if I hated all the food in Sector 1, Zu,” he declared dramatically. “Hand on my heart.”

Despite knowing each other’s real names, it was still habit (and technically proper) to use call names on shift. You checked on him every day during his recovery over the past week, so you’d gotten used to calling him Kun as well.

“Uh-huh,” you agreed mildly. “I’ll meet you in the gym at 1630 then.”

“It’s a date.”

After getting through your mandatory workout for the day, you and Kun meandered over to the Sector 1 food court. Despite your teasing, you also got food from the same restaurant as him. He didn’t move to take a seat in the food court, however, jerking his head for you to follow him. With your bag of food in one hand, you did so, intrigued. Kun apparently had a destination in mind, weaving through the crowds with intention and reaching back to grab your free hand to not lose you.

Soon, you arrived at a crew-only observation deck devoid of other people. You couldn’t recall if you had been to this particular one before, but the door slid shut behind you two and the sounds of the rest of the ship faded away. This particular deck was pointed directly at a large plasma cloud, glowing with energy and all sorts of swirling pinks, purples, and greens.

“Oh, this is beautiful,” you gushed, sitting on the ledge under the window.

“I like seeing how the cloud has changed whenever I’m in Sector 1,” Kun said, sitting next to you. “It’s different every time.”

You drew your gaze over to him, eyes catching on the faint line under his ear, marking where he’d been operated on just last week. It had healed very fast, of course, as all surgeries now did, and you reached out to touch the skin under it with a fingertip. “Do you feel okay, Kun?”

“Brand new.” He took your hand from the incision and laced your fingers together. “I promise, Y/N.”

“Good.” The two of you ate your dinner like that, hand-in-hand, watching the plasma cloud and stars, sometimes talking, and sometimes in silence. And that was more than enough.

⤷ masterlist

TAGLIST

@annenakamura @bee-the-loser @lotties-readings @ppddpjdr @reiofsuns2001 @snowyseungs @tearinka @yoursyuno @yutasputa69 @winkeuu

@classicroyalty @fairvtale @giirlfriendd @shaqs-oatmeal @sofipolii01 @fae-renjun

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I love how you give Leona & Jade their own unique “censoring” of their names 😂 (L*ona & J-word), so now I wanna know how would you censor the rest of the casts names?

J WORD AND L*ONA DESERVE IT FOR ALL THE PSYCHOLOGICAL DAMAGE THEY'VE INFLICTED UPON ME 💀 There's one AU for every character's name I censor because they're my oshi in that AU/j ���� I'll include censored versions of their names as well as alternate names or phrases I may use to refer to them. (Be warned that those phrases/nicknames may not be too creative!!) Please note: I'll only be covering NRC students + Chenya and Neige, NRC staff, and Halloween characters! I won't be covering family members and most other NPCs.

Riddle: R!ddle, "Red Ciel", “Riddler”

Trey: Tray (YES, I AM PURPOSEFULLY MISSPELLING HIS NAME), “Dad", "the Muffin Man"

Cater: C@y, "the clout chaser"

Ace: @/ce, Aylmao, "that one asshole"

Deuce: Juice (yes, just like what Ace called him in the prologue)

Leona: L*ona, "KINGSCHOLAR" (yes, all caps), "doomposter", "Kdrama CEO", "lion"

Ruggie: R*ggie, "Rug Bug", "hyena"

Jack: J@ck, "the big muscly dog", "wolf"

Azul: Azuwu (yes, as in, "uwu"), "Boss Man", "attempted Kdrama CEO", "octopunk"/"cephalopunk" (like what Leona calls him)

Jade: J word, J@de, "that slimy eel fucker"

Floyd: Fl0yd, "that other slimy eel fucker"

Kalim: Kal!m, "that rich bitch"

Jamil: J@mil, "Jimi-chan"

Vil: V!l, "Vii-kun" (yes, just like what Neige calls him)

Rook: R00k, "Huntsman", "the token French representation"

Epel: Ep*lsauce, "fruit"

Idia: !dia, "the weeb"

Ortho: 0rtho, "Or-kun" (just like his mom)

Malleus: M@lleus, "DRACONIA" (all caps), "M@l", "literally a Shadow Daddy"

Lilia: L!lia, "Lils" (Cater calls him this in EN), "Gramps", "bat"/"Grandbatty", "Grandpappy"

Silver: S!lver, "eepy baby", "Princess"

Sebek: S*b*k, "Becky Boi", "croc", "bestest boy in the entire world", "that little green pompom that barks at me"

Grim: Gr!m, "Grimmy", "Grimmu"

Crowley: Cr0wley, "old man"

Crewel: Cr*wel, "Boss Bitch"

Trein: Tre!n, "Grandpapa"

Vargas: V@rgas, "Arms McGee"

Sam: S@m, "my dealer"

Chenya: Ch*nya, "my widdle meow meow"

Neige: Ne!ge, "Princess" (yes, I know I'd be repeating one of Silver's nicknames OTL)

Rollo: R0r0, "father", "Malleus Draconia's #1 hater", "the Catholic"

Fellow: F*llow, "Scam Man", "fox", "Mr. Honest"

Gidel: G!del, "the kid"

Skully: Sk*lly, "Halloweenie"

asdlkbabsyodifepbfa; And in case anyone is wondering about the "Kdrama CEO" and "doomposter" nicknames for Leona + "attempted Kdrama CEO" nickname for Azul, those are in-jokes I have with a friend of mine. I don't really use those phrases to refer to either character publicly, so I don't think I need to explain them. I just thought it would be funny to drop them here with zero context www

[bee-the-loser-recs]

✩✮✩✮ My Kun One-shot Fic Recs ✩✮✩✮

★ Sleepless Cinderella [Prologue] and [Kun] By @starlightkun 11.4k, Journalist reader, Pilot Kun, interviewing him for an article, falling in love, romantic connections, slight angst, fluff, having scheduling difficulties

★ Romance is dead & Sequel By @starlightkun 19.4k & 10.3k, part of the writer's Strawberry Sunday universe, fantasy au, college au, modern magical creatures, vampire Kun, human reader, accidental love potions, strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, blood drinking

★ The bite By @starlightkun 25.2k, single parents au, enemies to lovers, single dad Kun, single mom reader, they both have sons in preschool, slight angst, initial dislike, flirting, slowburn, a kid biting another

★ Flopstar By @starlightkun 18.3k, Band au, Kun is a retired band member, now a venue manager, rookie Keyboardist reader, reader was a fan of Kun's band, age gap, fluff, suggestive, WayV as Kun's coworkers, other NCT appearances throughout

★ Hold my red heart By @starlightkun 3.4k, fake dating at the office holiday party trope, friends to lovers, reader is slightly stupid, fluff, slight angst, tipsy reader, drinking, vomiting, cursing

★ Chasing love across the receivers By @starlightkun 9.3k, sci-fi au, co-workers in space, falling in love with one another without seeing each other, they're space traffic controllers, codenames, fluff, minor hurt/comfort, brief injury mention

Literally just go check out @starlightkun cause their works are all so good!! They have many other Kun fics as well as other NCT members, but I haven't had a chance to read them all myself yet

★ Noli timere By @itsapapisongo 13.3k, Hogwarts au, fantasy, Hufflepuff Kun, Slytherin reader, British slang, acquaintances to friends, facing a boggart, fluff, slice of life, depicting a character having a panic attack

★ Drama love By @radiorenjun 23.5k, college au, drama club au, Kun is president of the club, star actor reader, frenemies to lovers, tsundere Kun, teasing/playful bullying, insults, reader is a menace, fluff, slight angst, so good

★ Harvesting hearts By @xomakara 6.4k, western au, country farming au, farmer reader, new resident Kun, instant attraction, developing feelings, other residents NCT, a crop-stealing sheep, inspired by cosy farming games, fluff

★ Blessings By @xomakara 6.7k, established relationship, accidental pregnancy, dad!Kun, slight angst, worry, fluff, smut, watching how their relationship develops, moving in together, comfort

★ Creme caramel By @werejusttouchingeachother 3.3k, established relationship, missing one another, being horny, photoshoots, reader makes a dessert Kun said he was craving, surprises, smut

★ The perfect match By @gyoobies Ten x reader x Kun, polyamory, established relationship between Ten & Kun, café au, mutual interest in one another, smut, fluff, flirting, teasing

★ Irreplaceable By @justwritedreams 1.5k, soldier au, pilot Kun, mentions of military training exercises, fluff, action, Kun gets angry at another pilot, going on dates together, reader watches him train

★ Peacefully paired By @cigsaftersuh SMAU, non-idol au, reader lives in a small village, Kun moves to town, friends WayV & Mark Lee, posting online, misconceptions, Kun thinks reader & Mark are dating at first, fluff, feelings

★ Paint the lot red By @alreadyblondenow 6.8k, vampire au, Kun is a vampire, human writer reader, reader has lost their family in a car crash, strangers to friends to lovers, major character death, depression, smut, angst, blood

★ Whenever the sun is hiding By @alreadyblondenow 3.7k, kind of Mulan au, general Kun, warrior reader, fantasying about one another, smut, angst, mentions of a promised one back home, the ending killed me

★ Give By @hazyhae 1.1k, established relationship, getting high together, weed use, stressed Kun, ranting to reader about things, pet names, smut, fluff

★ Day 20: Thigh riding By @lovetaroandtaemin 1.4k, a kinktober fic, established relationship, going on their anniversary date, public teasing, smut, slight crying

★ Day 21: Aphrodisiac By @all-about-kyu 1.7k, magic au, wizard Kun, apprentice reader, making a romance potion together, accidentally messing up the potion, aphrodisiacs, smut, aftercare, mentions of actual feelings

★ Love of my life By @all-about-kyu 3.5k, established relationship, going through their relationship lifetime, insecurities, anxiety over their relationship, pregnancy, parenting, Ten & Xiaojun as their kids

★ Kun trying to convince you to join his many side quests !! By @viasdreams SMAU, established relationship, Kuns many side quests he's done, mentions of Kun jumping out of planes/piloting/doing magic, fluff, crack

★ Be alright By @ethereal-engene 1.7k, Older brother Kun & younger sibling reader, reader's first day back at school, self deprecating thoughts, self doubt, living with WayV, seeking comfort from your sibling, fluff, comfort

★ Promise By @iridesuhnce 4k, friends to lovers, childhood friends, slowly falling apart, reconnecting years later, promises, angst, fluff, they had a childhood fort together

★ Fireworks (I love you) By @sunflw3r 931, non-idol au, established relationship, new years setting, celebrating Kun's birthday, watching the fireworks, implied younger reader, fluff, flirting

★ Finding gilbert By @jaeminlore 1.2k, soulmate au, neighbours au, countdown timers to when you meet, Kun has a new kitten, reader finds the cat, fluff

★ July 26th By @00127am 2k, roommates au, complaining about the summer heat together, sharing a bed, non-sexual intimacy, "just friends" dynamic, cuddling

★ Ace of hearts By @injvns SMAU, Kun practices magic, card tricks, reader finds one of Kun's cards in her book, fluff, first meeting, attraction, cute

★ Biting By @imagesbywayv Drabble, established relationship, slice of life, typically soft Kun, smut, biting, leaving bruises on reader

★ I'll give it to you, wonder you By @imagesbywayv 591, established relationship, soft dom Kun, smut, praise, pet names, kind of fluffy smut, slice of life

★ Bet you like it, you love it By @imagesbywayv 1.2k, established relationship, slice of life, playing around with power dynamics, reader wears lipstick, leaving marks on each other, lipstick stains, soft, smut, fluffy

★ 望むままに, easy come By @imagesbywayv 3.8k, established relationship, slice of life, smut, soft dom Kun, pet names, use of Gege, praise, kind of bratty reader, a slight hint of mean Kun, talk of rewards

★ 鮮やかな姿, show me everything By @imagesbywayv 1.18k, established relationship, dom!Kun, pet names, teasing one another, smut, Kun spoils reader constantly, unspoken dynamic

★ I'm losing sleep, is it just me? By @imagesbywayv 1.9k, sugar daddy!Kun, sugar baby!reader, established arrangement / dynamic, catching actual feelings, the arrangement is meant to be ending soon, smut

★ Yikes, date gone wrong, hoodie thieves, exam week pickup, and we should get a cat By @suhnshinehaos SMAU, university au, NCT96z & reader as roommates [Doyoung, Ten & Kun], one-shots, reader has a shitty ex, being stood up, slight implied Ten x reader, teasing, sharing clothes, fluff, slight angst

[rz-jocelyn]

The way Ryuji was so quick and prepared to do Kashuu Kiyomitsu's pose *grins*

Nakao Masaki and Sato Ryuji attending Musical Touken Ranbu "Suehiro gari" together on 20 September 2023

[bodacioustomato]

draw a doodle of dad kolya, in pajamas or something like that, anything from him 💕

Oh yeah, night time bed stories with papa Kolya

Personally, one of my favorite aus, but I’m just a sucker for turning any character into a dad 👨

The Gogoling babies belong to @doukeshi-kun. Lil munchkins

[chaoticquill]

Stupid FukuMori moment from the Chuuatsu Bodyguard AU. Fukuzawa is Mori’s previous bodyguard just like in canon.

Mori in the background: It’s like Chuuya-kun always says, people in this line of work do stupid shit when they get too close to the ones they’re protecting.

Fukuzawa: …

Mori: It’s me, I’m stupid shit.

Ranpo (to Fukuzawa): OH MY GOD DAD

[tanukitsuneko-suki]

build episode 40 thoughts:

- he's always so mean.... not everyone is a nerd like you sento-kun </3

- ahh..he's so cute...banjo..yeah it's really strong...be careful...ah..

- "my memories seem to blur around the time of the skywall incident" ahh..hmm... yeah well okay i'll bite, because it's been a while since i seriously rambled about potential plot threads. i guess this is the 'real' katsuragi in a sense? the devil scientist katsuragi being the sento under the effects of the pandora box (just like what happened with gentoku). then again, gentoku remembers what he did....

- LMFAOOO OHH MY GOD THAT'S SO CUTE BANJO LOL. 'yea maybe you don't need that era of your life. or you'll try to kill me again :/' he is so girlfriend i love him

- ahh....so handsome....so cool.... sento-kun....

- GENTOKU?????????????????????????????

- this is the most terrified i have seen his face and it is killing me

- OH MY GODDDDDD HELLO!!!!!!!!!!!!! WELCOME BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- KATSURAGI CAME BACK I THOUGHT IT WAS ALL OVER LMAOOOOO

- evolt?? wants to make the ultimate slave?? and is?? targeting the kamen riders??? for it??? okay . sure. yeah we can do that too i guess

- is that katsuragi's mom btw, the first lost smash??? oh evolt you are so fucking evil

- "things have grown into a cosmic scale" honestly kazumin has a point lmao like he's just a farm owner and suddenly he's facing the personification of chaos in the universe ?? he just want oshi merch, man.....

- "kine reika" and a picture..? isn't this the woman with the boat they saved back then? or am i mistaking it...

- THIS DIVA

- oh my god??????

- WHY THE FUCK IS KAZUMIN IN THE EXPERIMENT COFFIN!!!!!!!!!!!

- i think it's really nice that kazumin's first thought when he got attacked by the pm (despite being injected with the same lethal amounts of gas) is that she would die if he defeats her. kazumin you are too soft for this world. which means you will die.... death flag..

- I DIDN'T SAY DO IT NOW FUCK FUCK FUCK GODDAMN GO BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- sorry this is so stupid if he just waited 30 minutes?!?!?!??!

- i uhhhh really need a villain au. it would be really good

- oh hell yeah!!

- ah... oops...ah..... oh no.... ms. prime minister... somebody tell her she got off relatively scot-free because the rest of her peers are dead LMFAO

- HIS DAD IS FUCKING ALIVE??????

[thoughtssvt]

words of wisdom

innocence protection program pt. 3

yuuji is having trouble asking questions in school and nanami gives him a word of advice

Yuuji was never one to ask questions. He never felt the need to. He liked learning what was interesting, but he mainly just liked seeing his friends every day. It posed a problem the older he got. He found himself interested in very little when it came to learning and eventually he began missing important instructions to his assignments.

He felt left behind, looking around seeing all his classmates seeming to know what to do inherently. He tried his best, he really did. He tried hard to pay attention in class so he wouldn't get left behind anymore. He tried to blend in even if he didn't know what was going on, raising his hand to answer a question that sounded like gibberish, earning some soft snickers from his fellow classmates. His ears burned bright red as the teacher called on someone else. He hated feeling left behind, but more than anything he hated everyone finding out that he was behind.

So he never raised his hand again.

Even if he couldn't complete his projects, let alone his classwork. Unbeknownst to him that the teacher had contacted Nanami in concern of his disinterest.

“Are you doing alright in school, Yuuji-kun? You haven't come to me for help in a while,” Nanami said nonchalantly as if he was asking what Yuuji wanted for lunch the next day. He looked at the boy with a neutral stare, seeing the nervousness in his son, Yuuji averting his eyes, pulling the covers up to his nose, socked feet fiddling under the blanket. “It’s okay to ask questions, you know that, right?” Nanami started again, this time more direct.

Yuuji wilted at his father’s words, though shock shone through more than anything. “You think it’s okay to ask questions?” Yuuji whispered softly.

“Of course I do. Questions are important, I ask my coworkers a lot of questions when I’m at work," Nanami confirmed.

“Aren’t you worried that you’re gonna look stupid?” The boy sat up, the conversation taking an interesting turn.

Nanami ruffled his hair, letting a soft chuckle leave his nose. The feelings Yuuji was going through were more than familiar to him. “I used to, yes,” he nodded his head as he reminisced his early adolescence. “But do you know what I learned?” He quirked his brow at his son, continuing when Yuuji shook his head. “I learned that I would rather look stupid for a second than feel stupid for the rest of my life.” A soft smile spread across Kento’s lips as he watched the light bulbs flicker on in Yuuji’s head. “Asking questions are important. You shouldn’t feel bad for wanting to learn more, alright?”

The next day Yuuji made it a point to try it at least once. At least one question out of the many he knew he would have throughout the day. He trusted Nanami, but he was still nervous, unsure if asking questions was as helpful as Nanami set it out to be.

From then on it was as if Yuuji’s thoughts were only filled with questions. He was amazed with how one question made so many things click into place. Nanami watched as Yuuji’s grades improved and, most importantly, how much more excited he was to go to school.

A/N : I actually had this exact conversation with my nephew a few weeks ago so I thought it was fitting to write about it. I hope you enjoyed! feel free to use my ask box for any requests!

j‹𝟹

Innocence Protection Program masterlist

The Small Spaces Between Infinity masterlist

a dad gojo and kid megumi series

Jujutsu Daycare master

an au where the jujutsu high students are young children attending jujutsu daycare

[redcamellia13]

Mitsukou Analysis: Alteration Arc

(I should really get to organizing all my analyses)

The end times have come. I must analyze the most heart breaking moment of JSHk, and this is also where these analyses come rot an end, at least until an entire new arc finishes up. However, there will be a part two (mostly because I don't have the emotional strength to cover chapter 120)

Without further ado, let’s go…! (Forced enthusiasm)

My overly Korean grandma bows for everything, and I think that rubbed off on me, because that bow Kou just did is something I have to refrain from doing every time I'm sorry/thankful (just picture me doing this at least 5 times whenever I say "I'm so, sincerely sorry!" or "Oh my goodness, thank you so, so much!")

Anywayyyyssss... I'm glad to see how Mitsuba and Kou are still friends, and best at that. Which is kind of an... odd decision to make, on Aidairo's part.

Given that in all Twitter AUs as well as bonus art Mitsuba and Kou are always good friends, and they’re so close in the New Timeline- it’s almost as though Aidairo’s trying to say no matter what, Kou and Mitsuba are always friends.

You know what that reminds me of? The red string of fate (aka the mermaid scale) binding Hanako and Nene across time and space. And we all know Hanako and Nene are infamous for being friends, just friends, nothing more, purely platonic friends

Then again, Kou’s special relationship with Mitsuba might not be so special after all, since he gave Nene that ticket without remembering the old world.

It’s a bit… I don’t know, concerning that we don’t see any tears from Teru or Kou about their mother being alive in this timeline/their mother being dead in the last one.

I get it was a long time ago, and both Minamotos have been shown to have healed since then. Teru is sorta desensitized to death, and to Kou, it’s just a fact of life he has to get over.

But come on, this was Kou’s number one wish! I expected a little stronger reaction!

Something I was wondering was, why did Kou and Sousuke (since Mitsuba in this timeline seems a lot closer to Sousuke than No. 3) forget things, while the people involved with the clockkeeper’s trial kept their memories?

You might be thinking, “well duh Camellia, you just said it, it’s because they were involved in the trial.”

But the thing is, there is no established reason why participants in the trial retained their memories, or at least recovered them faster, over the non participants.

Honestly, it would be counter intuitive for Kako and Mirai (let’s be honest Akane couldn’t do shit to stop them) to allow the participants to keep memories of the old world, considering our most powerful character is in that party: Teru. I’m really hoping it’s not just a plot hole Aidairo forgot to patch, and that it actually means something

Also, why haven’t we gotten a Minamoto dad reveal yet? Is Aidairo saving it for a future plot twist?

I wasn’t going to include this panel until I took a closer look at the background, where Sousuke’s mom is black out drunk.

I’m sorry, what?! Sousuke’s mom, in the old timeline, is a sweet, sincere, still grieving woman who cared deeply for her late son. Never are we shown signs of her being an alcoholic.

I can’t tell if it affects Mitsuba’s quality of living, or if this is a one time thing. Does this mean if Mitsuba were alive she would be a worse person?

This is quite a calculated move on Mitsuba’s part. Just as Kou said, he’s a scaredy-cat who would never willingly come to the school at night, so something had to have changed.

It’s… probably not his underclassmen. Mitsuba has never been shown to be social, other than joining the photography club and even then when Kou visited them to investigate Sousuke's grave they told him he was never really close to other members.

So, it's either one of the following:

He wanted to talk to Kou about the "dream"

He had some weird sense it was related to Tsukasa

Oh so they dream about each other now (see After School Hanako-kun)

This has nothing to do with their relationship I just wanted to say that (Aidairo probably didn't mean it like that but I'm taking the win regardless)

Kou has been actively avoiding discussing Mitsuba's death with him, and that is completely understandable: the dude his 90% of his trauma for heaven's sake!

However, Mitsuba isn't shying away from the topic at all, consistently approaching Kou about it.

And this is weird as hell.

Mitsuba's situation in the new timeline is arguably worse than any other character since both iterations live inside of him which must be such an unpleasant feeling, and on top of that, the guy that would bring up the worst memories is now his best friend (okay I take it back things could be worse *ahem ahem YUGI TWINS*)

God, this is heart breaking to read...

RUN, RUN LITTLE MITSUKOU BEFORE ITS TOO LATEEEEE

Desperate attempts to save my children aside, apparently the Red House can just randomly change paperwork to draw victims in.

I'm quite confused as to how it does this, and doubly confused when it comes to the photo Sousuke took that suddenly developed into a pic of the Red House.

It's most likely due to Amane using the powers he got from the hole god, but we don't know what he really is.

The science prep room Nene stumbled into was so long ago it was since converted into a storage room. But in the photos inside the photo album are of modern-looking astronomy technology. If Amane was born in 1955, and we can estimate adult Amane to be ~20 years old, these pictures were taken in the '70s.

If he isn't born in 1955, then could that be the change Kako and MIrai made? But it doesn't cause that powerful ripple effect required...

Now, I am no expert in telescopes, but these do not look like they were made in 1970.

Also. Teru mentions no rumors surround the Red House, which either means it's reality warping effect has gotten much stronger or the house has gotten weaker. Given that Aidairo likes to make things ten times worse, it's most likely the latter, so does this mean the Red House only draws in people connected to the old timeline/those with spiritual energy?