#which is read a bunch of fanfic
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horsegirlwarcrimes · 21 days ago
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gang. im doing it. im finally reading TGCF
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melooooo17 · 4 months ago
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@openphrase123 your fanfic(s but i mainly made art of the mira and siffrin one because i cant remember words for the life of me for i do not speak french) IS???? ? SO GOOD. SO GOOD IM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH finally something to look forward to in the week fr
Mild spoilers for it ig!! But nothing too explicitly groundbreaking i dont think it'll kill your mom to look at these without having read the ff first
Don't mind the shit quality i??? I drew all these so fast theyre kinda shit and i have yet to fully acclamate isat to my artstyle so it's mid
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Teehee me when i make shitty rushed fanart to show my appreciation that i cannot put into words for my faovorite games and also authors
peep the rant in the tags
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dramatic-dolphin · 16 days ago
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a long while ago i came up with this idea for a game of thrones fanfic that has nothing to do with the plot or events of game of thrones at all and the entire thing is set like 200 years in the past in the dothraki sea with all dothraki characters, and it has no connection to any events that ever happen in westeros. and it would be really good. if i ever wrote it. btw.
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tonia-aaaaa · 6 months ago
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just wanna let u know i got an email notification that you left kudos on my treebark fic and i got jumpscared because i love your art a very normal amount
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cozylittleartblog · 1 year ago
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"woah i can't believe you've read blue sky!"
hoho. my dear followers. i have done more than read it. do you have any idea what you are dealing with.
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pagesofkenna · 2 months ago
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i really like fullmetal alchemist (the manga) but i have friends who were really into fullmetal alchemist (the 2003 anime adaptation) and trying to talk about FMA with them is like talking with someone who thinks the AU fanfic is the source material
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lipstickontheglass1985 · 3 months ago
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honestlyyyy i lowkey need to burn down my smartphone
#so close to deleting all my social media apps. yes that does include tumblr.#but its like. ok i get info abt upcoming events in my area via instagram. ig i could delete facebook but i dont even use it that much#so like guess i could delete it but whats the point#tumblr is definitely eating up a ton of my time but also where would i be without it.#cannot delete it at least until i have my physical diary on me again#i also follow a bunch of journalists on insta but ig i could just keep up with their stuff over at like. the actual agencies they publish in#some of it is paywalled and i dont neccessarily respect the agency as a whole to give it money but. well cope i guess#ao3 is not a social media platform but i do spend an embarassing amount of time using it#and i know i could spend that time reading like. actual books. which i am lowkey struggling with!!#but like if im reading 40k word fanfics then it means i do have an attention span for reading long form fiction#its just that a story with a setting and characters im already familiar with is much easier to 'get into' than something totally new#and like i do know it cause once i got hooked on the witcher saga last summer i literally read all 5 novels within a few days!!#like the attention span IS there. its just that the - to put it in a nerdy way - activation energy feels much higher than it used to#like the hardest part is truly to start!!!#sooo like idk. might delete this godforsaken app starting oct 1st. probably would still log on via desktop#but limiting my tumblr screen time would be sooo good for me. and like im considering giving myself an alotted time for some stuff#like ao3 etc. this simply cannot continue.#thots
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wandixx · 6 months ago
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I can't stop thinking about this one time I called my angsty fic "smut" because in my mother tongue sadness is "smutek" and it didn't even occur to me, that it can mean anything else. Just, you know, localized term for angst or somehitn
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hauntingofhouses · 9 months ago
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hi, it's me. the fic writer that uses culturally-specific idioms in a very different cultural time setting and keeps confusing words like reign and rein. this is my story.
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azumasoroshi · 2 years ago
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watched the first two episodes of oshi no ko a while back (REALLY FUCKING GOOD, ive been a manga reader for a while but i stopped reading the recent chapters and basically forgot everything except for the major points and god it’s so satisfying to have the adaptation remind me of what i’ve forgotten in the most beautiful way possible)
but this post isnt about onk, it’s about izaya!! izaya orihara!! lets fucking goooooooooo izaya idol au!!!! i cant get this flea out of my BRAIN
i was about to open a new canvas to draw some more shizaya stuff for my animatic that im never gonna finish and i was like huh. maybe i should draw onk fanart. and then i remembered this art of venti genshin impact with ai’s eyes and i remembered thinking man i hope this becomes an artist trend for people to do with their art blorbos! and then i was like OH. guess i could contribute to the trend by drawing izaya with ai’s eyes
and then i started thinking and i was like huh. Ai’s never experienced love from her parents, doesn’t think she knows how to love or how to express it, doesn’t get attached to others easily, is a perpetual liar, became an idol because she hoped she would learn how to love - oh hey doesnt. that. sound like izaya. just a little bit. not exactly, her character goes into more learning how to love/that she can love while izaya’s character is i can love but only impersonally because i’m afraid of getting hurt and his arc would be learning to let his walls down for his own good
SO for izaya idol au, izaya would become an idol because he wants to experience love, or something along the lines of “there’s no greater demonstration of parasocial love and foolish decision making than in the idol industry! ahaha~” and probably “idols are perfect liars and i need to put myself into their shoes so i can become an even better liar and close myself off to any possibility of falling in love that could ever exist”
there’s a lot of reasons he might want to become an idol, really. there’s so much corruption and behind-the-scenes dealing and lies and facades and shit in the entertainment industry that i think izaya would eat for breakfast. he would LOVE witnessing that shit and making his own shady deals and stuff and occasionally ruining lives and watching people rise and fall down the rankings and tear each other down. plus the people who are in it for passion rather than money are fascinating as well. psychology student’s dream really- i mean what this is definitely about izaya and not me projecting
plus he definitely has the looks for it (narita would hard agree given how many times he’s indirectly called izaya attractive through other characters. we love a canonically hot king)
now i need to make everything shizaya because i’m not okay but i have no idea who shizuo would be lmao
like you could make him some up and coming manager (no age difference stuff here sorry lmao) or a fellow idol (doubtful. shizuo can act cute but i dont think he could dance) or an actor like akane/kana or a streamer??? like memcho (my favorite character)
a mangaka/screenplay writer/writer in general could also work but i feel like you’d have less reason to interact with idols that way
idk how japanese idol groups work for men in particular or if there’s even like a market for that :sob: id have to look into that if i actually started making stuff for this au
alternatively izaya crossdresses as a female idol and somehow no one realizes. except for shizuo. that would be hilarious actually. he refuses to do swimsuit modeling or other provocative stuff and his fans are like “oh?? the brazen kanra-chan is unexpectedly shy?? how cute” and he plays into it but inwardly he’s like. god i know exactly how im gonna go out with a bang when i retire. and shizuo watches him playing at being shy on tv knowing that that motherfucker is planning to strip on his last days as an idol
anyway this is just me spitballing ideas but ill definitely write at least a concept/intro fanfic of this at some point so stay tuned lmAo im just about to run out of writing juices on ABAON so i gotta transfer my energy somewhere else and where better than the idol!izaya au
#shizaya#idolzaya#ill be using that tag for whatever idol au stuff i come up with#i drafted this like. five days after the onk anime came out#this has been drafted for way longer than i wanted it to be#this was also sorta inspired by the idol!kim dokja au fic that’s really popular#i think the male idol industry is way stronger in korea than japan thiugh#that said i dont interact with idols at all personally lmAOO so i have no idea#i will do research later i promise#and read more of more more jump!’s stories for inspiration PFF#i wonder if izaya’s group should be a bunch of drrr girls or like. mostly irrelevant side characters#or if he should just go solo which again. i need to research how hard that would be#i feel like he might want to blend in a bit inside a group#would be fun to observe the jealousy and drama and group dynamics up close too#because if they get jealous of HIM at any point he might just laugh until he dies#i have more ideas but i should save those for the fanfic….#anyway#izaya orihara#shizuo heiwajima#durarara#im excited for this one bro oshi no ko is one of my favorite series ever#but like. not for the romance just because i really like learning about the entertainment industry LMAOO#i dont ship aqua with anyone tbh#can he just be besties with everyone pls#i loved his and kana’s relationship in the beginning where they’re like two good actors in a room full of mids#that was a fun dynamic but it just went downhill for me personally#oh well i can talk about this in my author’s notes pff
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all-eyes-no-dragon · 1 year ago
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Is there a fanfic out there where Peter just keeps the spider??? And can talk to it/and spiders in general? Like obvs Pete and Spider are angry, confused, etc first but they become friends of a sort and Peter brings it home and still becomes Spider-Man but he's got his little spider spy/tag along??
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enchantedephiphany · 5 months ago
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I did that like ... 20 times... i guess i do learn from it. But slowly... takes me longer than other ppl apparently
But at least im having fun
write unpublishable things. it's good for you.
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kuiinncedes · 6 months ago
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ahdfgjh
#i have an interview on friday i think#which is conveniently right after getting back from a trip lmfao 😀#bruh when i gave them my interview availability i said like available after 6/20 or smth#and they originally scheduled me for the 13th 💀 which like whatever human error and i emaied and they fixed it#and thenscheduled for the day after i said i would be on a trip lmfao#i have a bunch of shit to do to prepare for it too / complete for them beforehand#and i just realized i also have to prepare a 10 min presentation#without powerpoint or anything like i just have to tak abt smth for 10 mins ?????#which is not that bad ig considering like they could've made me actually give a presentation on myself lmfao#but i think i can actually talk about anything which is cool#bitch is gonna talk abt flow arts / glowsticking lmfao#but like i want more time to prepare TT and idk if i have that much time / motivation / energy on this trip lmao#ugh whatever#idek if i can get this job bc it requires relocation and i can't rly relocate until after this academic year lol#even tho i am no longer in da academic c:#ugh anyway lmao also have an interview next monday idk why they're so close rip#i also have to prepare for that one TT that'll be an after this first interview problem lmao#i also have a coupoel saved job apps deadlines coming up#........ i have not finished the cover letter even tho i was working on it before this trip like i need to finish before this trip#bc i'm not gonna work on it lol but guess what i did not do before this trip :DDD#i could very much do da cover letter rn bc my brother is suddenly having a random ass call for his student org lol#(bro i already miss being on my student org leadership :'''''''''') anyway)#so ig we're just chilling in our hotel#but what if i dont 😀 i've been reading HELLA j/atp fanfic lmfao idk why that specifically but ig i miss them :')#so i'd much rather keep doing that over doign cover letter 😀😀😀😀😀#anyway we'll see lemme shut up now lmao#jeanne talks
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artfulacrostic · 1 year ago
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y'all ever just have like. insane anxiety, and you're irritated about the thing that's causing it, and that makes u more anxious? bc i'm like fully aware that i'm having it bc of my anxiety disorder. but i'm still going in a circle here gdi 😑
#r speaks#ughhhh fr i m not thriving rn.#i looked at comments and bookmarks for one of the fics im most proud of for the first time in. a long tome#and there were SO many remarks along the lines of the fact that the story was really good/they loved it/etc BUT that the ending was#EXTREMELY anticlimactic in a very frustrating way and did not wrap it up with the amnt of falling action that i think they expected#however i acknowledged that literally in the ending. that it was anticlimactic. bc it was smth that really impacted the POV character's life#in a significant and horrible way! but despite that as soon as he was able to receive help it could be resolved shockingly quickly#and yeah it didn't deal with the emotional fallout from all of those events!#but i didn't intend to do that! that felt like a whole other fic when i contemplated writing it and it kind of still does#but in an ironic turn of events a fic that i was very proud of and drew a lot on my experience with anxiety to write#which people have said was legitimately stressful to read and even terrifying#is NOW THE THING THATS CAUSING MY CURRENT BOUT OF ANXIETY!!!!!#like. i think constructive criticism is great but. this is fanfic that i wrote for fun and to explore a bunch of feelings i have felt#and dissipate some of that u know? so i'm a bit sad. and have been trying to write the follow-up/more emotionally satisfying wrap up chapter#for like two years. and every time i go back to that fic for encouragement there are MORE AND MORE references to the thing that is wrong#w that fic. instead of the stuff that people like about it. ugh okay i'm just trying to like move past the needless anxiety here i'll stop#r tags
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zarameraki · 1 year ago
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♡₊˚☀️・₊✧ 𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗶'𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 & 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 ♡₊˚☀️・₊✧
: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 he's obsessed to the max 𖥔 ceo x baker 𖥔 grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 she talks a lot x he listens a lot 𖥔 spoils the literal shit out of you 𖥔 mention of parental death 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sexual content in vague details 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 super soft nanami 𖥔 close proximity 𖥔 he loves kissing the fuck out of you
: ̗̀➛ words: 7.7k
: ̗̀➛ notes: you guys are so sweet for supporting my toji fanfic which is why i wanted to write another and this time its about my husband, the father of our children, the man who deserves every beautiful thing in this world. if you enjoy my work, please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy!
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Nanami Kento entered your bakery at exactly six o' clock.  
You carefully observed the moments he dedicated to perusing the array of pastries, the vibrant mountain of macaroons, and the freshly baked, warm casse-croûte that you unfailingly prepared for him when he clocked out. There was a tender quality to his countenance, noticeable in the slight release of tension between his brows as the soft, buttery flakes dissolved on his tongue in your presence. Without fail, he consistently left a generous tip in your travel jar, dedicated to a solo trip to Malaysia.
"Did you know they've got this thing about not wearing yellow in Malaysia?" you mentioned during your initial meeting, eyeing the distinctive black-dotted tie worn by the stoic salaryman. "Well, not that your tie would get you in trouble; it's not entirely yellow. In fact, I think it's perfect as it is, just like your hair, which also has a touch of yellow.” 
Please cut your tongue off. 
Anticipating a polite nod and perhaps a slightly regretful five-dollar tip left in the jar, you were taken aback when he queried, “Why is that?” 
“Oh, uh . . . a bunch of protesters wore the color during a demand for their prime minister to step down," you stumbled, feeling a twinge of embarrassment for veering off into an unintentional crash course. Dropping trivia about Malaysia wasn't exactly the same as flirting. "So, it's kind of become a symbolism for protest and, well, threat. I read it in a book once. I don't know if it's a legitimate law, though."
“Do you like reading?” he asked, still interested in conversing with you. “Most people would Google information.” 
“I like reading. It’s easier to retain information that way.” 
Nanami acknowledged your gesture with a nod of gratitude as he accepted the casse-croûte and exited your bakery. Anticipating that he might not return due to his reserved nature and your awkward attempts at compliment-flirting, you were surprised to find that he was, in fact, full of surprises.
Nanami became a regular visitor. Day after day, for the past year, he arrived at precisely six o' clock. He continued his routine, whether he purchased a box of pastries, a pair of bagged bread loaves, or simply a casse-croûte and a small cup of milk coffee. You always prepared his order five minutes ahead of time, just in case you were occupied with other customers.
"Enjoy!" you chirped, casting a warm smile at the customer you just served as the bakery slowly emptied, leaving only Nanami browsing the delightful array of small cakes. "Good evening, Mr. Nanami!"
Nanami raised his head in your direction. "Good evening." He finally settled on the black forest cake from the open freezer and brought it to the counter.
"Special occasion?" you inquired as you rang him out, sneakily not charging him for the casse-croûte and coffee. There was a special occasion of your own that you were eager to share, hanging from the tip of your tongue.
"An intern's birthday."
"Sounds fun!" You had been saving up for your birthday present since summer, and Nanami had played a significant role. "When's your birthday?"
"July third."
Your eyes widened with surprise. "No way! Mine is July sixth. We’re summer babies."
“Happy belated birthday,” he said, fishing for his wallet, gaze barely meeting yours. 
"Same to you." Offering the sandwich and coffee, you extended them towards him. "Consider it a belated birthday treat."
Nanami’s brows crinkled. “I cannot accept.” 
"Why not? It's a gift." You slid the items closer with a subtle nudge, leaving him little room to refuse. "And you've given me a priceless gift, Mr. Nanami." Your eyes hinted at the tip jar's location, which now lay empty. 
“Were you robbed?” he asked, concern evident in his voice. 
“What—? No! Oh my god. You’re so funny.” A chuckle escaped behind your fist, and he observed you momentarily before glancing away. "I'm heading to Malaysia next week!"
Nanami gave a subtle nod. Although his lack of a more animated response disappointed you, you understood that shortness was his nature. "Congratulations.”
"Thank you, Mr. Nanami. Your generous tips really made a difference. They covered half of our trip.”
“Our? It’s not a solo trip?”  
You let out a little nervous laugh. Should you really be telling Nanami about your crippling love life? Would he even be interested? Well, he seemed to listen carefully when you talk. Maybe he wouldn’t care, but you really needed someone to talk to about this. Unfortunately, all your friends were too busy with their marriages to care.
“Well?” Nanami prompted. 
"Right, sorry. It's just—I've actually been seeing someone. Funny enough, we met in a Facebook group for solo travelers. He lives in a nearby town.”
Unexpectedly, Nanami's first question caught you off guard. "Can you trust him?" His concern surfaced, causing you to pause. "I'm only asking because you met this man online. You can't trust strangers on the internet."
"Thank you, Mr. Nanami, but I’m capable enough to know about stranger danger," you said with a funny smile, dismissing his parental concern. "Besides, we’ve gone on a few dates over the past month."
Nanami's frown remained intact. "Correct me if I’m wrong, but are you paying for him, too?"
"Yes."
“Why?” Nanami asked, firmly placing his palms on the counter, making it clear he wasn't leaving until he was convinced you wouldn't get in trouble during your Malaysian adventure.
"What do you mean 'why'?"
His mouth opened but then closed into a thin line, his forehead lines deepening. "It’s not my place to tell you what’s right and what isn’t—"
"Yes, you’re right about that," you interrupted.
"—but this is bordering on recklessness. You cannot use your trip’s money to pay for a man you’ve known for a mere month. Why is he even in the traveler’s group if he cannot afford to pay for himself?"
"Mr. Nan—"
"You are being scammed." 
Your teeth clenched together. You rarely got impatient. Years in the hospitality industry and dealing with misogynistic tenants didn't break you. Even setting up your bakery and almost draining your savings didn't dim your optimism. 
But getting scolded by someone who barely spoke more than five sentences to you in a whole year of being a regular? That's pushing it.
He didn't know you or Toji, the guy you're seeing. He didn’t understand how much you appreciated him accompanying you. So what if you covered his share of the trip expenses? Toji promised to pay you back, and he's been paying the bills for your dates. They might not be fancy, but it's the gesture that matters.
Sure, Nanami chipped in some money, and you're thankful for that. But he has no right to question you. Other people also contributed to your travel fund; it's not like he single-handedly financed the whole trip. You appreciated his support, but he was not in a position to lecture you.
With a sigh, you managed to contain your frustration and said, "Have a great rest of your night, Mr. Nanami.”
Nanami's frustration was palpable as he stood firm, his gaze piercing through the windows of your soul. “I suggest you take my advice into serious consideration. It would greatly upset me if you had the chance to visit one of your favorite countries taken from you.” 
You didn't bother watching him go. Instead, your discovery awaited you at the counter—the money for the coffee and casse-croûte lay there, accompanied by a crumpled yellow note that had slipped to the floor. Moving around the counter, you picked it up and smoothed out its wrinkles.
What greeted you was your own name scrawled across the sticky note, repeated around fifty times, the letters overlapping in a chaotic dance. Some were hastily scratched out, while others were executed with perfect cursive precision. You didn’t know what to make of it.
During your confusion, a new customer walked in. Quickly, you pocketed the note, focused on carrying on with your day despite the lingering frustration that Nanami's cryptic message had left in its wake.
Toji never showed up.
You waited for him for two agonizing hours, extending the torture even more after your flight had taken off. It dawned on you that he likely didn't bother getting a ticket. He probably pocketed the money you sent him and vanished into thin air. Every attempt to reach him failed miserably—your calls were forwarded, and the fifth one hammered the heartbreaking truth that he had blocked your number. To compound your misery, you sent him a string of text messages that refused to deliver your pain. You didn't even know where he lived, as your encounters were always in the obscure locations of your budgeted dates.
The thought of reporting him to the police crossed your mind, accusing him of theft, but the lack of photographic evidence left you helpless. To make matters worse, he hated taking pictures, and you were uncertain if the name he provided was even real. All that remained was a flicker of hope that you might cross paths with the bastard and unleash your pent-up rage with a hard kick to his dick. 
With a heavy heart, you gathered your strength, brushed away the tears until not a single trace remained on your lashes, and lugged your suitcase and carry-on outside the airport, hoping to hail a cab.
The idea of facing the upcoming days at work felt agonizing, goading you to spend them in the isolation of your shabby apartment. You were engrossed in a depressing routine—microwaved dinners, aimless hours on the couch, and a marathon of old cable TV shows.
As hunger struck again, you contemplated your options. Baking seemed like a possibility, but motivation had abandoned you. Pasta could be an option, but the lack of noodles and tomato sauce made it impractical. So, you settled for the one thing that required no ingredients: crying.
At least that was free. 
Despite the inner turmoil, you mustered the strength to shoulder your overcoat, sporting your fleece pajamas printed with candy canes and well-worn second-hand boots. 
The short walk to the corner store felt longer than usual, the biting cold making you clutch your threadbare coat tighter. Your teeth chattered in protest as you entered, and the rush of warm air was a momentary relief against the chill. Fingers numb, you mindlessly reached for familiar comfort snacks—chips, chocolate milk, anything to dull the ache.
A hand much larger than yours beat you to the last packet of croissants.
“Ah, sorry.” You let it go. “All yours—” You choked as you looked up, and up, at Nanami staring at you wide-eyed, his hazel eyes flickering at a rapid speed as if he were hallucinating your presence. Your face flushed with embarrassment, and the weight of the past five days crammed upon you—his uncanny prediction, your own naivety, and the sting of being swindled. “Mr. Nanami . . . ”
“Aren’t you supposed to be in—”
“Good night.”
With a dismissive shake of your head, you left the basket on the counter, mumbled a quick apology, and retreated back into the biting cold. 
You’ve faced tons of humiliating moments—slipping in front of customers, your purse strap getting snagged in a door and dragging you back, and that one unforgettable instance when a little boy labeled your eyebrows as caterpillars in front of a line of onlookers. Yet, none of those incidents could hold a candle to the awkwardness of bumping into the very man who had warned you about the ill-fated choice of paying for a stranger's trip—stranger now—when it was supposed to be your trip. 
You felt a firm grip on your wrist, making your restless pacing suddenly stop.
Startled, you turned around to find a pair of expressionless hazel eyes and a slightly out-of-breath figure. Now is not the time to ogle Mr. Nanami’s broad shoulders, you idiot!
Releasing your wrist, he handed over a white, plastic bag. With a raised eyebrow, you peered inside to inspect its contents. It held everything from your shopping basket, including the last packet of croissants. Even more unexpected, he had paid for it all. 
“I’ll pay you back tomorrow,” you assured, your eyes already scanning for the nearest ATM, just in case you forgot. "But for now." You pulled out the packaged croissants and extended them toward him. Your body was shaking, not because of November but because of how you were scammed after being forewarned by Nanami. “Please. Take it.” 
He took your small hand in both of his, the warmth immediately melting the tension in your body. “So cold.” 
A soft giggle escaped you at the obvious observation, and you placed your free hand on top of his. "So warm." Sniffling, tears welled up in your eyes. "You know what else is warm? The sun. And it's yellow. It's so yellow."
“Factually speaking, it is white.” 
You wiped an arm across your nose. “What?” 
“The sun. It’s white. It’s only yellow in children's books.” 
You weren't about to argue with the guy who vindicated your slip-ups. Still, given the circumstances, you wished he'd soften the bluntness and let you bask in the illusion that the sun was a simple shade of yellow.
"I've always loved the color yellow," you mumbled. "Maybe getting scammed was a blessing. I'd probably get fined for wearing yellow otherwise. I couldn't afford to mess up on my trip. Besides, it all depends on the shade, right? Imagine how many fines I'd rack up just testing which shade of yellow suits me—"
Nanami tugged you close, capturing your lips with his.
A sharp intake of breath filled your lungs, eyes widening in surprise. Instinctively, your hands pushed him away, fingers grazing your tingling lips.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.” 
“No, it’s okay. Don’t—Don’t worry. About it.” You tucked your lips in and tasted chocolate and mint—two of your favorite combinations. Nanami always seemed like the kind of man who would hate both flavors independently and dependently. “You’re okay. I mean—You’re okay in general. You’re not okay with kissing. You’re probably great, I’m sure.” Your tongue traced the curve of your lower lip, and Nanami’s eyes followed the motion. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.” 
You walked up to him, grabbed the lapels of his coat, and tugged him down a notch, your lips colliding with his. 
Nanami's touch was calculated, his hand sailing onto your cheek, feeding warmth to your cold ear before vanishing into the labyrinth of your hair. Simultaneously, the other serpentined to the small of your back, his magnetic energy drawing you snugly against his chest. His warm tongue delicately swept across your lower lip, an unspoken cue that encouraged you to part your lips in response.
Nanami deepened the kiss, your tongues stroking against one another feverishly as if it were your last kiss. Who knows? Maybe it could’ve been. But the way he kissed with such desperation, releasing soft moans, not allowing you a moment to catch your breath, made you think that maybe this was just the start.
And you kissed him back just as needy.
If your hands slightly released their hold on his lapels, you'd gently cup the sides of his neck, rising on your tiptoes. And if your calves protested, you'd draw him down, wrapping your arms around his neck, your fingers entwining in his pale, golden locks. The taste of mint chocolate lingered on your lips, and a smile curved on your mouth as he stole a quick peck, pulling back just to gaze into your eyes for a moment before kissing you again.
You’re not sure how long you two stood and kissed there. Nanami was the one who always took the lead, savoring the taste of your pink, tender tongue, kissing your chilly cheeks and dewy eyes. The desire for each other made it hard to break away, yet the need for a breath of air was undeniable.
Finally, you decided to be the one to step back, signalling the end of your first kiss with him.
Your bottom lip tingled as you pulled it in, jaw aching from the infectious smile that had taken over your face. You couldn't help stealing glances at the tall man before you, who returned your gaze with a soft, almost imperceptible grin. Yet, in his eyes, under the gentle glow of the streetlight, you could see the excitement and joy of kissing you, twinkling brightly.
“I'm gonna—”
“I should—”
Both of you sighed; you with a soft chuckle, and him with a discreet throat-clearing.
“I've already missed quite a few workdays,” you said. “Gotta earn that dough if I want to make next month’s rent.” Nanami didn’t quite catch your bakery pun, but he nodded in agreement.
“Right,” you murmured, subtly veering to the side, putting on a little show as you started to walk away. You admitted it—you were a hopeless romantic. You secretly hoped for him to steal a kiss on your cheek and watch until you safely disappeared around the corner. “I’m off now.”
“Goodnight,” Nanami replied, subtly licking his lips for the sixteenth time. Yes, you were keeping count. 
“Night-night.” 
Nanami strolled down his end of the sidewalk. You followed suit, turning down your street. 
Luck had only sometimes been on your side when it came to men and their romantic gestures. Oh well. At least you experienced a passionate kiss from one of your favorite customers. Asking for more seemed a bit too much—
A hand gently pressed against your back, and as you turned, it gracefully curved around your waist, drawing you in. Nanami caught your gasp and kissed you with an urgency that doubled, holding onto you as if his life depended on it, lifting you off your toes. Three sweet pecks later, he released you, both of your faces flushed.
"Get home safely," he whispered, walking away without a second glance.
That night, you couldn't help but giggle into your mascara-stained pillow.
The morning after, you were a whirlwind of joy and light, twirling through the bakery with trays of freshly baked pastries, replenishing boxes and take-out essentials. You greeted customers with an extra dose of sweetness, and to top it off, you even handed out a tray of delectable chocolate jam cookies. And you wore a yellow bow in your hair. 
The oven beeped as the casse-croûtes finished baking, signaling their readiness for Nanami's arrival in just five minutes. You took special care in preparing his milk coffee, indulging in a quiet chuckle at your undeniable favoritism. Though the neighborhood bakery wasn't bustling with a large customer base, your attention was solely dedicated to him—your only regular as everyone else buzzed in the distant city an hour away.
With his coffee prepared and two casse-croûtes packed, you added a chocolate-mint cookie to the bag. Then, you decided to rearrange the shelves of gift baskets to pass the time. 
Setting up the ladder, you ascended the shaky steps until you were eye to eye with the fifth shelf. Heights were never your forte, which, in hindsight, was another reason why flying to Malaysia was out of the question. The more you thought about being scammed, the more your heart wrenched from your lost trip. You’d again brought out your tip jar and prayed the odds were in your favor. Hell, maybe you’d ask Nanami to join you if you decided to take your relationship to the next level. 
As you secured the bow on the basket, your gaze landed on the clock—6:30 p.m., and Nanami was a no-show. 
Anxiety surged through you in an instant.
Did he leave you hanging? Maybe that kiss was a turnoff, and he chose to disappear rather than be upfront about finding you too overwhelming. Did your breath smell bad? Were you a terrible kisser? Or, worse, did something happen to him?
A torrent of worries flooded your mind, breaking through like a burst dam. Each imagined scenario seemed more nightmarish than the last, causing your head to spin. Recent events, like Toji's betrayal, fueled this self-doubt, made you question your intuition. While Nanami was clearly wealthy, consistently tipping a twenty each day, you found yourself questioning whether he had plans to use you for something else. As if that weren't enough, doubts crept in about your appearance and your optimistic, extroverted personality.
It started to make sense, didn't it? Nanami led a tranquil life, sticking to a routine of work and home, while you were a whirlwind of spontaneity—constantly buzzing with new ideas and discussions, unable to sit still or resist laughter at the silliest jokes. Everything seemed to fascinate you, yet nothing appeared to faze him. How could you have been so naive to entertain the thought—
“Good evening.” 
“Ah!” you yelped at the sudden baritone intruding into your thoughts. Your foot, betrayed by the unexpected intrusion, lost its balance on the step. Your arms flailed in a desperate attempt to find stability as you teetered backward, the impending hazard of a severe concussion and potential spinal cord injury looming.
But just as you were prepared to shake hands with God, Nanami's powerful arms swooped in at the last possible moment. With a secure hold, he cradled you in a bridal style, and you clung to him like a shaking puppy, arms looped around his neck.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his breath slightly labored.
You gingerly peeled one eye open to peek at him. His expression was one of calm disorientation; eyebrows knit together while his lips maintained a straight, tight line.
"Yes," you whispered, soothed by his timely intervention.
Nanami steadied you back onto your feet but maintained a firm grip on your elbows. “Look at me.” As you did, he inspected each eye closely while keeping his hand steady on your left cheek. He checked below your jaw, down to your dusty palms, which he cleaned with his silk handkerchief. He also patted down your tousled hair. "Are you sure you're okay?"
“Mm-hmm.” You could cry from how gentle he was with you. “A-Are you okay?” 
“I am now.” He took a composed breath and effortlessly retrieved his suitcase from the floor, brushing off invisible dust. “I apologize for being late. My . . . car broke down.” 
"What? Oh my god! Do you need me to give you my mechanic's number? I promise he's not as bad as the Google reviews say. He's actually quite a sweet man. And he gives me a friends and family discount because my father was close with him." You beamed, and Nanami squinted his eyes as if the brightness of your smile momentarily blinded him, but he tried his best to reciprocate.
“Do your parents live here?” 
You shook your head. “They passed away a while ago.” 
“I apologize.” 
"Don't be." You quickly switched subjects by fluttering towards the counter to pick up his items. “Tell me how your coffee tastes.” You turned around, adding, “I switched to a new brand of milk—”
Nanami pressed his lips against yours, momentarily freezing you. His seamless transition afterward could have fooled an onlooker into thinking you'd been married for years. "Thank you.” He took a sip and nodded thoughtfully. “It’s great. Everything you make is great.” 
“Thanks,” you mumbled, sudden shyness enveloping you. From the kiss? The compliment? Him? You didn’t know at all. “Do you still need me to give you the mechanic’s number?” 
“It’s all right. I had it fixed. Minor battery issue, that’s all.” 
“Ah, okay. See, that’s why I prefer to walk.” 
Nanami glanced elsewhere, nodding. “Then, would you like to walk with me after you’ve closed?” 
“Oh.” A subtle flicker of surprise crossed your features. Nonchalantly, you brushed a strand of hair behind your ear before smiling warmly. “Of course, yes. I’d love to go on a walk with you. Where are we going? There are lots of cafés in a nearby shopping district. I know all the best places to take you to.” A grave thought struck you just then. “Oh, actually. Hmm.” 
Curious, he tilted his head down, meeting your worried gaze. "What is it?"
"Well," you began, your thoughts taking a cautious turn, "you probably have a set time to be home unless you live nearby. In that case, we could spend the entire evening strolling around. Only if you're interested, of course."
Nanami’s lips twitched. “I live nearby.” 
“Where?” You weren’t ashamed to have been so upfront. It was more of a precautionary measure. 
And he didn't seem bothered, quickly revealing the familiar neighborhood you instantly recognized. It was a fifteen-minute walk from your own place.
"May I step out momentarily to make a call?" Nanami asked, pulling out his phone. It was the latest model you noticed—one that came out last week and mocked your own that was five versions older. “It will be quick.” 
“By all means.” You had to fix your hair and make-up anyway. 
Nanami nodded and exited the shop, leaving you to flee behind the counter. As you crouched down to check yourself in the small mirror tucked away in the lower drawer, you couldn't help but feel a warmth on your face from the unexpected collapse, the sweet, brief kiss, and his impeccable navy blue suit decorated with yellow cufflinks. Maybe a café was too casual for him; a restaurant might have been a more suitable choice. An expensive choice. However, you were adamant about not letting Nanami cover the entire cost.
Upon his return, five minutes later, you both settled at one of the three round tables in your bakery (he even pulled out your chair for you). Sipping on your coffees and enjoying the casse-croûtes and chocolate pastries, the conversation seemed somewhat one-sided. Yet, Nanami's aloof demeanor never made you feel inferior for dominating the dialogue. He listened to every word and vowel with his undivided attention, nodding alongside and adding in short sentences when he could relate to your childhood shenanigans. 
"Wait," he interrupted, causing you to halt in your tracks. The sun cast a warm glow on his face, making his eyes narrow into slits, but God did he look handsome. He extended his hand and brushed a thumb near your lips, discovering a small chocolate smudge. Swiftly, he licked it clean and tidied up the area around your lips with a napkin. "Beautiful."
“What?” 
Nanami was a deer in headlights. He sunk his head, beating himself up from murmuring his thoughts aloud—at least, that’s what you concluded. "You look beautiful," he declared with more assurance, his gaze on your face. "You are beautiful, Y/N."
Oh, my. 
Your heart was going to claw itself out of your chest. You could cook an egg on your face from how heated it had gotten. In fact, you were burning hotter than the sun, which continuously made him squint and blink. “Thank you.” 
He nodded twice, finishing the remnants of his coffee. Rising, he disposed of the cups and wrappers in the garbage bin, then extended a hand to help you stand. "I'll wait outside while you close up."
At a lightning pace, you ensured that everything in the bakery was safely unplugged and shut off. Grabbing your purse, you gave yourself a quick once-over in the mirror, adjusting your face and hair. Stepping outside, you meticulously locked the door and gates.
Without a word, Nanami entwined his fingers with yours, causing you to smile like an idiot at him. He maintained a straight, vigilant gaze, seemingly unresponsive as you wrapped yourself around his arm. A subtle smirk tugged at your lips when you felt his muscles flex.
You walked for hours, café-hopping and trying pastries, baked goods, and sweet drinks. Every time Nanami attempted to cover the expenses with his cash, you scolded him, insisting that since you had suggested the place, you should be the one to pay. It was a rule you had read about online, and all your friends stuck to it religiously. The thought of Nanami spending his hard-earned money on your interests made you feel incredibly guilty.
As a matter of fact, you were feeling guilty about tons of things. He told you he worked at an investment firm, which meant it was a nine-to-five, likely sporting a migraine he kept hidden, and now he was being dragged around the shopping district by you, forced to listen to you because he was a man who didn’t complain, wouldn’t complain, and long, story short, you wanted to die. 
“Kento,” you muttered, removing your hand from his, goosebumps rippling on your skin. 
“Yes, darling?” 
Your chest felt like it was being clenched in a fist. “I'm . . . I’m sorry.” 
“For what?” 
“For making you do all this. For making you pay for everything. For dragging you around when you're probably on the verge of exhaustion." Avoiding his gaze, you fixed your eyes on the concrete beneath you. “I know I can be too much sometimes—well, all the time.” A self-deprecating chuckle escaped your lips. "Exes in my past relationships have made it clear. I get overly excited easily, crave attention like one needs oxygen, trust people too easily to the point of getting scammed, and, well, I don't bring anything particularly special to the table. I'm sorry, Kento. Maybe it's best if we just stay friends?”
Nanami’s soft fingers lifted your chin up. Your words absolutely shattered his face, leaving you to feel worse than before. His lips were parted into a frown, his brows were scrunched up, brown irises flickering like he couldn’t believe you said that. This was the most reaction he had given you in the year that you’ve known him. 
“No,” he said. 
You blinked the tears gathered at your waterline. “No?” 
“No.” Nanami took a calming breath, closing his eyes. His forehead gently pressed against yours. “Please, let me be selfish for this once. For you. I can’t let you go—I won’t let you go."
"Kento—"
"I want to do this, Y/N. I want to pay for everything. I want you to drag me around because I’ll never be too tired for you.” Nanami drew back and cradled your sobbing face in his large hands. “I know I fail to show it, darling, but I love your excitement. I love paying attention to every detail of you because you’ve become my oxygen source. You’re a good, kindhearted woman, and anyone would be lucky to be seen by you. And you don’t have to bring anything to the table because there isn’t one dividing us, keeping us lengths apart.” His lips brushed your forehead, imprinting his words into your mind. "I want us to be more than just friends. I want us to be best friends. Lovers. In this life and the ones that follow."
You could explode. 
Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, seeking support as if the ground beneath you was about to crumble. Yet, you knew he would catch you, just as before. He was so real, embracing you wholly, both of you breathing in each other's scents to confirm a human like this could exist. How grateful you were he stumbled into your bakery that one rainy night, and how grateful he was that you offered him free coffee and a casse-croûte while he was freezing and trembling. His presence brought life to your bakery, gave you something to look forward to when you were at your lowest, and you gave him . . . everything. You were his everything since the first day. 
As the shared silence lingered, Nanami's phone shattered the moment, its noisy ring cutting through the haze. You instinctively stepped back, but he clung to your hand as if afraid you might slip away.
Never, Nanami Kento. You’re stuck with me. 
When he took out his phone, you caught a glimpse of the contact name: Satoru (assistant). 
Before you could process the fact Nanami had an assistant, he swiped right. “Yeah?” 
The voice on the other end resonated with loud cheerfulness in the quiet alleyway. Nanami half-rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Very well. Leave it there. I’ll be there when I want to.” 
The assistant chuckled and sang his goodbye, the cheerful tone abruptly cutting off as Nanami ended the call and slid his phone back into his pocket.
“Do all stockbrokers have assistants?” 
He tilted his head. “I’m not a stockbroker.” 
“Oh? I’m sorry. I assumed because you worked at an investment firm.” 
“Yes, I was a stockbroker.” He nodded, warming your hand in his, then casually added, “But I own a firm now.” 
Your brows hit your hairline. “That’s amazing!” 
“Thank you. We have several locations around the country. Kento Investments. Have you heard of it?” 
Heard of it? You were a client some time ago when you were starting your bakery. All you encountered were glowing reviews about their ethical practices, a refreshing leave from the scheming ways of most investment firms that had previously taken advantage of you. It stood out as the industry leader in your research, and the team was lovely in guiding you through the process, so much so that you even invited them to your grand opening.
"Ah, you have." Nanami grinned, gently tilting your chin upward and closing your gaping mouth. "Therefore, my darling, don't feel guilty about me covering the expenses. I'm quite secure in my position to support both of us for centuries."
All you could manage was a disbelieving chuckle as you rested your forehead against his chest. Taking it as an invitation, he embraced you, crowning you with kisses. 
Lifting your head, you said, "There's something I want to get for you."
"What is it?"
Hand-in-hand, you pulled him back toward the bustling district, the sound of his deep laughter echoing in the air. Your own laughter naturally joined in.
As you strolled past a vendor selling accessories, your attention was drawn to an item you had briefly noticed earlier in your walk. Although you planned to purchase it the following day and surprise him in the afternoon, tonight felt like the perfect moment.
Politely approaching the elderly vendor, you asked, "Could I please try those on?" He handed you a pair of round sunglasses with a green tint to the lenses. Standing on your toes, you carefully placed the glasses on Nanami's nose, adjusting them to sit perfectly on the bridge. The sides of the spectacles featured a stylish steampunk design that complemented his narrow, sharp features. "Handsome.”
"I'll take it.” Nanami reached for his wallet. However, you were one step ahead, swiftly bringing out the spare change you had set aside in your coat pocket. You had already calculated the price, ready to outsmart him in this little game of charity.
“Y/N.” 
“Thank you,” you said to the shop vendor, ignoring Nanami’s stare. 
“Y/N.” 
“Yes, darling?" You looped around his arm and began your stroll down the sidewalk. “Oh, come on. Let me be selfish and treat you once in a while.” You cut off his protests with a kiss. 
He surrendered instantly. 
Over the next four weeks, you didn’t realize how quickly you’d become comfortable with Nanami. Like clockwork, he would arrive at your bakery, patiently occupying a table until your duties with customers or decorating displays finished. Now resembling a vibrant florist shop, the bakery owed its transformation to Nanami's thoughtful gestures—bouquets of flowers in every shade of yellow, orange, and white became an amusing routine. As you arranged them in vases, you would burst into fits of giggles like a maniac. 
You and him were like a Venn diagram, overlapping in unexpected places. He enjoyed non-fiction, classics, and history books; you immersed yourself in the world of romance and mystery novels. TV nights were a compromise between his love for documentaries and your penchant for anything sappy on Netflix, occasionally spicing things up with a true-crime documentary. His fascination with astronomy met your fixation with astrology, and surprisingly, he didn't scoff when you read the lines on his palms. Instead, he appreciated it just as much as you cherished his nightly photos of the moon and his ability to name the stars above.
At least, you were both Team Cats.
Nanami introduced you to his friends, including his quirky assistant Gojo, who had a habit of shamelessly flirting with you, seemingly just to get under Nanami's skin. However, your boyfriend was secure enough not to let it bother him. Yet, a trace of possessiveness would emerge during sex—when the two of you were entwined in bed, bodies bared and bathed in the aftermath of shared sweat.
Exiting the restaurant after a delightful dinner date, Nanami turned to you and suggested, "I'd like to invite you to my home tonight."
Finally, you thought, resisting the urge to dip your toes into the topic of visiting his home, especially considering he had been a frequent guest at yours.
The fact that he lived nearby had always puzzled you; he mentioned it casually yet never extended an invitation for a simple coffee or a chat on his welcome mat. Weekends saw him working from your living room, staying overnight, but on weekdays, he'd only spend a brief hour or two with you before heading home, a practice that seemed counterintuitive given his closeness. Despite the confusion, you hesitated to jeopardize your relationship by fishing too deeply.
So far, Nanami hadn't given you any reason to doubt him.
"Are you sure?" you asked cautiously.
"Absolutely, darling.” Nanami took your hand and planted a small kiss on the back of it. "I apologize for the delay. I've been having it . . ." He casually flicked up his sunglasses that had slipped. ". . . renovated."
“Oh, I see. Well, in that case, I’d love to!” 
Nanami nodded and leaned down to kiss your cheek. “Thank you for being so patient. I know it was eating you alive. You're not exactly the master of hiding your emotions.” He gave you a small smile and kissed your cheek again. 
You responded with a smile that crinkled your nose. "Just a bit anxious, that's all."
"Understandable.” He guided you toward his neighbourhood, exchanging a warm smile as you nestled against his arm. Observing the goosebumps on your skin and the faint shivers, he realized you had forgotten your cardigan. Without hesitation, he removed his blazer and draped it around your shoulders, helping you slip your arms through the sleeves and buttoning it up.
You took a deep breath, inhaling the pleasant scent from the collars. "You always smell so good."
Nanami bent down, kissing the side of your neck right above your racing pulse. "As do you," he murmured against your skin. "Always."
“Gosh, you're so flirty,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his midsection and burying your face in his chest.
“Come on now.” 
You walked for another ten minutes, taking a five-minute pit stop to pet a stray cat before stopping in front of a towering residence building. It was one of those extravagant ones boasting a fountain in the lobby and a vigilant security guard who greeted Nanami with a two-finger salute.
Hand on your back, Nanami guided you toward the elevator with mirrors on all sides.
He exuded an air of sophistication in his neatly rolled-up black dress shirt, complemented by beige pants. His pale, blond hair was slicked back, a Rolex clasped his wrist, and veins corded his well-defined forearms. The sunglasses you had given him rested atop his head. 
As Nanami caught your eyes on the reflective surfaces, a sudden blush warmed your cheeks. “What is it?” 
“Nothing,” you whispered, fingers idly playing with the golden butterfly bracelet he had given you on the night he asked you to be his girlfriend. “I was just . . . God, you’re so beautiful. Sometimes, I think I’m dreaming of you. And I don’t want to wake up from it.” 
Nanami released his grip on your hand, wrapping his arm around your waist. He tilted your chin upward and planted a lecherous kiss on your lips. As you stumbled backward, your back met the cool surface of a mirror, and you clung to his biceps. He continued kissing your jaw and nibbling at your neck.
“Ken—Wait, there’s a camera!” 
“I own the building.” 
Without allowing you to react, he kissed you fervently, his hands framing your face and his knee pressing between your legs. Your hips ground against the muscled surface, creating a heated friction that drew a moan from him.
The elevator dinged, signaling its arrival, but Nanami was undeterred. He refused to break the kiss. Lifting you effortlessly, he cradled you with a single forearm beneath your backside and your arms encircling his neck. Laughter echoed as you entered directly into the main corridor of his penthouse.
“Your front door is an elevator?” You marveled with an open jaw. 
“Yes, it seems so.”
Oh, how you loved his monotonous replies. 
Nanami gently placed you onto the expansive white surface of his couch, smoothly moving over your body to continue. 
“I knew you were a clean freak,” you said between his kisses, “but your penthouse looks like it was bought this morning.” 
“Two weeks ago.” He kisses down your neck, sideways toward your left shoulder. “That’s why I waited to invite you. Gojo was having the place decorated. I've installed a library for you, too. We can go book-shopping this weekend.” 
"Wait, what?" You pushed him back by his chest, incredulous. "Hold on, hold on, hold on. You mean to tell me you moved in just two weeks ago?"
"Yes," he answered, tilting his head slightly perplexedly. "When you asked about my residence, I panicked and couldn't come up with a proper answer, fearing you might decline my invitation for a walk. So, I bought this building from the previous owner on the spot. There are also commercial benefits. Quite a strategic move, if you ask me." With that, Nanami resumed his attention, focusing on kissing your collarbones and skillfully lowering your dress, exposing your chest to him.
But you were still stuck on the subject like a pesky fruit fly. “But you don’t live here?” 
“I don’t.” His mouth brushed over the mound of your left breast. “I live in Shibuya.” 
“Shibuya? Kento, that’s an hour and a half away!"
"Hmm." He glanced up, mouth sucking at your nipple.
"You've been faithfully coming to my city every single day, all the way from Shibuya, for a whole year? You've been burning all that gas just to be with me?"
He broke away to say, "Gojo drives me occasionally," and switched to your right breast.
"Nanami Kento, are you out of your mind?"
Finally, he released you and sighed. "I fail to see the issue here." He appeared so innocent, with his moist lips, tousled hair, and a crumpled dress shirt. 
You hurriedly sat up, readjusting your dress, which seemed to displease him. "I'm at a loss for words." Your gaze caught the weariness etched on his face, the bags under his eyes, the slow, heavy blinks signaling his desperate need for sleep. "You haven't actually been living here, have you?"
Upon hearing that, Nanami let out a weary sigh. "I do it when I'm too drained to make the drive back on weekdays."
As the details of his schedule fell into place, you flinched inwardly. He would rise at the crack of dawn, dedicate endless hours to handling clients at the office, and then endure a lengthy drive to your city, only to spend his evenings with you before leaving around midnight to return to Shibuya. The only time he would stay overnight at your place was on Saturdays, and he would depart early on Sundays for work. And all this time, you had believed he had an office in your city.
Oh, God. 
You loved him. 
You loved him so much.
Tears welled up in your eyes at the realization of just how much he loved you. The man had gone so far as to purchase an entire building in your city just to be closer to you. He showered you with affection at every opportunity, devoted his alone time to you with undivided attention and mind-blowing orgasms, and his bank transactions were probably dedicated to you. 
“I don’t deserve your kindness,” you whispered. 
“Neither did I the night when we met.” Nanami’s words always had a comforting effect on you. He gently pulled you onto his lap, and you curled up like a fetus, planting a kiss on his cheekbone. “I’ve loved you for a very long time, Y/N. I love . . . God, I love you so much. I didn't realize I was capable of feeling this much love for another human until I met you. It was all locked up inside me, and you held the key all along, darling." Leaning forward, he smoothly swept his blazer and delved into the pocket, revealing a small yellow box. With trembling hands, you accepted it and opened it to find a petite, golden key inside. “Our front door is an elevator.” 
Your breath hitched. “What?” 
“Move in with me.” 
“Kento—”
“I know. I know it's quite early to discuss this, and I want to give you the space and time to consider it. As you mentioned, your lease ends next month, and I'll officially be transitioning to remote work with a few business trips every other week. It would mean a lot to me if you decided to join me on those trips." He gently placed the key in your hand, kissing your fist. "I'm scheduled to travel to Malaysia next month."
Overpowered with emotion, you choked out a sob and immediately lunged at him with a hug, causing both of you to stumble backward as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He loved you. He wanted you to move in with him. He wanted to travel with you, starting with Malaysia. Suddenly, the tips he left in your jar took on a deeper significance, backing the idea that you weren't meant to journey alone, why you weren’t meant to go with that swindling bastard. As Nanami's gestures of kindness and service became increasingly evident, your tears welled up, choking him in a tight embrace that eventually had him laughing.
Last November, Nanami Kento had stepped into your small bakery, raindrops clinging to him, unknowingly marking his permanent presence in your life.
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lilacnothlit · 4 months ago
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The Hunt by Flaks314. Rachel loses her family to the Yeerks and it escalates from there. These three fanworks after book 23 have the writing style dead-on (the author said someplace that Animorphs were the only books he read in English), while still having unfathomably gripping tension. Erek lets Rachel experience her own death, and Cassie reassures her parents "It's just ketamine!"
Sacred Host and The Parallel by Qoheleth. The author thinks I'm going to hell for at least seven reasons, but annoyingly, the stories are really really good. In the former, a yeerk host tells her cagemate about her lord and savior Jesus Christ and gives multiple aliens really well-written religious grapples in alien terms. In the latter, a parallel universe Animorphs, "The Morph Force" end up in the Canon timeline and our main character is tempted to leave the war and stay as a civilian in her counterpart's place. It's some of the most intelligent fiction I've ever read, period, and I'm not sure if I mean that as an insult. Everyone should give it a shot. The worldbuilding alone. Yeerks apparently have martial arts in slug form.
It's gone from the internet but Wayback Machine should still have Cinnamonbunzuh.blogspot.com and Ifi's magical fic, "six days the Animorphs were idiots," which starts as "the clouds on the book covers are Marco's pot smoke" and ends with them solving the whole war in a week. Esplin and Edriss have a lousy date and Esplin becomes a depressed cat hoarder. The tone is a fantastic Cerebus rollercoaster. Always save your favorite fanfics! They can disappear anytime. Wayback doesn't have the sequels where we explore the backstories of Visser 5 and her host, and it's a loss. Rachel is forced to go to chee therapy. Jake is forced to negotiate with the Andalites while drunk.
And ceruleanshane's Animorphs Redux, one of the most compelling ones I've ever read. Sadly, it ends like two chapters into its own finale, but you can process the rest. Time resets back to book 20, with only certain people remembering the original - and Melissa Chapman finds the cube.
It's worth it for her alone. Her anxious, nerd-filled narrative voice, her crazy dynamic with absolutely everyone. But there's too many amazing parts. Wait till the Veleek shows up. Or when Jake's andalite morph is so sexy and female, Ax and Marco are paralyzed by "I haven't seen a girl in two years." Or the Helmacrons. Or Melissa's battle morph. You have no idea how much tragedy and comedy gold I'm avoiding spoilers for. Ax's reaction to learning Tobias' paternity remains probably the best version of that scene I've ever read.
And, for a crack palate cleanser, Morphcatcher - in which the members of a Kpop girl group are college students who find Elfangor in the woods, and his nearby sister the snarky battle lesbian. It's tricky sometimes - I don't know this band from Eve, much less who's older and younger, so sometimes the dongsang and eonni get confusing - but the authorial voice fizzles like champagne, and it tickles my brain just right. Andalite Oxygen is different from earth oxygen because it's blue.
What animorphs fics would you recommend by yourself or others, for people who haven't read any of them yet?
Anything by Poetry/@featherquillpen! I've read a bunch of their crossovers and enjoyed every one. They're masterful at capturing the goofy-yet-horrifying tone of Animorphs, and with unexpected crossovers. Though I haven't gotten around to reading Daemorphing, I've head good things and can recommend by proxy. That's my single biggest author rec. Fic recs:
Elfangor's Folly by Kim Hoppy is an excellent longfic series retelling. The premise is exactly what the name suggests — Elfangor survives the first book and stays on Earth. My favorite part of this one is the author's ability to capture the subtly-unreliable narration of Animorphs with Elfangor's voice.
Take Me Out by neinlives is a delightful piece about the Animorphs grown up and going to college, half crack half sweetness.
The Wheel by L. Emmist is the reason my date once asked me "Why do you have a picture of a yeerk in a condom on your window?" and that's all you need to know about it.
Animorphs: Facebook News Feed Edition by Ember Nickel is exactly what the title suggests; never have I laughed so hard about Tom's death.
Speaking of which, The Tocsin by tptigger is a brilliant speculative story about Tom becoming reluctant host to a member of the Yeerk Peace Movement, and thus an even more reluctant Auxiliary Animorph.
I know I'm forgetting a bunch — I'm terrible at remembering to bookmark — so other people please weigh in with recs!
#I went to high school in a Korean neighborhood and had a bunch of Korean friends#i can still order off menus in hangul but that's about it#but I'm overfamiliar with Korean interpersonal culture and have no knowledge of Korean pop culture#hell I went to a Korean church rummage sale on saturday and I was annyeonging and gamsahabnidaling like I never left#but Kpop#that's all on you guys#animorphs fanfic#animorphs fanfiction recs#fanfic recs#qoheleth annoys me because he's too talented to cancel but if I ever meet him I hope I give him a big Catholic aneurysm#catholicism almost drove my dad to suicide and my catholic boy scout troop did the same#I got nothing against the faith but my experiences have left me uncharitable towards the tradcathy sort#interestingly Sacred Host implies the Skrit Na are SYNCRETIST CHRISTIANS and they reproduce all the 3rd century heresies#this is portrayed as an obvious source of confusion and horror rather than 'so it's a fiftieth the size of the talmud'#I call him a coward but I can't deny he captured why an alien would PREFER Catholicism over the other options#stabat bajir dolorosa#ave kandrona#I can't critique him until I write a tenth of what he's written#motherfucker made Reepicheep and Caspian discussing the spherical nature of the earth into an entertaining and gripping read#guy's a master#hey I mean Wagner thinks I'm going to hell too#ironic that we can separate the art from the artist better for him than for say Al Capp or JKR because he's usually too smart to suck#but when he sucks he sucks as only a very smart person can suck#which is very very fun to read
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