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doobea · 10 months

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I CAN MAKE YOUR BED ROCK - RIN ITOSHI

synopsis: You're a famous online smut author, married to an international superstar athlete, and everyone around you thinks you have the perfect sex life. What they don't realize is Rin sleeps in the guest room and you're still very much a virgin.

contents: fem!reader, arranged marriage, suggestive themes but nothing too explicit (read with caution), characters are all in their mid/late-20s, reader has a small supportive friend group of other smut authors, mentions of alcohol, sex toys, and lots of failed attempts to seduce an oblivious (?) husband, mdni word count: 2.4k a/n: you guys already know that this is gonna be a wild one. is this my debut attempt to write smut but make it a romcom? maybe. this is gonna be a four-part series!!

一 : Oh baby, I be stuck to you like glue ->next.

To say that you’re infamous on the internet isn’t an exaggeration but a truth. No, you haven’t posted anything controversial regarding your marital status and haven’t gotten yourself into a crazy D-List influencer scandal; you’re infamous solely because of your erotica literature and, surprisingly, your in-laws were fine with it.

“Whatever brings home the money.” Your father-in-law would always chime.

You weren't ashamed of your career, and it practically all started in college when you wanted to pass the time writing for your favorite fandom. In a short amount of time, you had gained a small devoted following on your blog that made a lightbulb switch go off in your head - what if I could do this for a living? And so you did. Fast forward three years, now you are making a comfortable living working from anywhere with a wifi signal available and have over 950k followers on your socials, all under your alias 'YN Finalis'. With that many followers, most people would feel worried about their personal life being breached, but you're not dumb; you like to keep your personal life on, what you like to call, "low battery" mode.

Here's what your near million followers do know about: you’re 24 pushing on 25, you've come from a rather wealthy background, you’re married to an athlete, you’ve written well over 40 original explicit stories, and you have a plethora of sex toys and contraptions in your master bedroom.

What they don't know is: you're in an arranged marriage with Rin Itoshi for the past year, he only sleeps in the guest bedroom, and you're a virgin with a really creative mind.

Crazy, right?

But it's not like you're alone in your thoughts, today was the day when you decided to finally vent to your close fellow internet authors about your sexual frustrations.

"My in-laws keep asking me the same thing every time they call," Your voice reaches your laptop where your weekly meeting was set up on the kitchen counter. "I mean just how do they expect us to have a kid when my own husband doesn't even touch me?" You finish the remaining wine in your glass in dismay as sudden gasps were heard from the laptop's speakers.

"He hasn't initiated sex with you in these last few months?" Chigiri gasps.

"More like in the entirety of our relationship." You cry as you pour out another glass. You pick up your laptop, frowning seeing everyone's solemn looks, and make your way to your living room couch. "I'm still a virgin for crying out loud, like who's still a virgin at 24?"

Probably a lot of people but this is about you, not them!

"Oh my god," Hiori looks like he was going to cry for you. "Maybe your husband's just shy? Could it be he hasn't found the right time for it?"

"But a whole year?" Bachira is next to speak. "No wonder your stories have been popping off, you've been super horny."

You try to hold back your drunken sniffles. "I just don't understand! It's not like I'm ugly or anything, plenty of people wanted to date me back in college! He comes home to a clean house, I make fantastic meals that aren't just a ham and turkey sandwich, and for his past birthday I even gifted him an all-paid trip to Okinawa!"

"Shit," Shidou whistles, "I'd fuck you if you made me a ham and turkey sandwich."

"Not now for jokes." Hiori scolds and his tone softens when he speaks to you, "Outside of sex, has your husband been good to you?"

You pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. "God, yes. He's so good to me you have no idea."

It wasn't like Rin was neglecting you in other forms of intimacy. Hugs and brief kisses were frequent both in and outside of the house. He loves holding your hands, shopping for clothes with you, giving you forehead kisses, and kissing you 'good morning' and 'good night' every day. There was absolutely nothing wrong with him, other than the occasional 'I'm irritated and I need my space' phase that required a whole evening to himself - but that was beside the point.

"Have you guys even talked about it?" Hiori continues.

"Oh god, absolutely no, it's an arranged marriage for fuck sake. What if I come off too strong and he doesn't even see me like that? Then the whole marriage will just be awkward!"

"But he's willing to do all those other things you listed down, maybe he is just shy." Bachira retorts.

"You think maybe he swings the other way?" Shidou asks but it's genuine this time.

A long period of silence falls over everyone as they try to figure out what they could help you with. But ultimately this was your husband to figure out, Rin wasn't married to them and they don't even know who Rin Itoshi was.

“Ah, whatever!” You swirl the wine in your glass around, frowning at your sullen reflection. “Maybe we’ll just end up adopting a baby instead of having one, maybe his parents won’t be able to tell the difference. And maybe I’ll just have to resort to reading other smut to satisfy my lack of intimacy. Chigiri, when is that next chapter coming out?”

A few clicks are heard from the other side of the screen before he says, “You’re in luck, I’m about to have my friend beta read this and it should be up by tonight.”

Perfect, you thought.

Chigiri, whose online username is RedPanther, has the third most followers on the adult website that everyone in the group was a part of. He's known for his works centering around the tropes 'forced proximity' and 'enemies to lovers', often the smut he writes will include a steamy threesome that has some sort of pegging involved - but that's always towards the second to last chapter.

"Oh!" Bachira calls out your name with a smile, "Aren't you working on a new story yourself?"

“Remind me again,” Shidou leans forward, "what's this one about?"

You find yourself feeling slightly lighter now that you've vented and the topic has shifted to something you're more confident speaking about. After a few seconds of rummaging through your Word documents, you drag the file labeled "I CAN MAKE YOUR BED ROCK - rough outlines & ideas.doc" to the group chat. Rarely do you ever share your creativity flow with other people but, after your unwarranted trauma dump, you figure it was better than nothing.

"Funny enough, it's loosely based on my marriage." You confess sheepishly, "This is my way of coping with it, I guess."

"Nothing wrong with that." Hiori chimes in, "It's free compared to having a shitty therapist!"

"Damn woman," Shidou's pink eyes dart back and forth from the screen, eyebrows furrowing up and down as he makes his way through your well-detailed outline. "you need to get laid, ASAP."

You click open your story file to follow along. In the tags section, you listed: Arranged marriage, unrequited love/one-sided, brat tamer, BDSM, choking, spanking, spitting, breeding kink, cum slu–

Okay, maybe Shidou is right (which is a surprise), you do need to get laid. But it's also okay to get slightly defensive for the sake of your ego, right?

You playfully roll your eyes at your group mate. "Ok ok, no need to judge that hard coming from the person who literally writes degradation kinks for a living!"

"Well, I think this story will be your best one yet!" Chigiri and Bachira both flip you a thumbs up over on their end of the call.

After a few more exchanges of small story updates in everyone's life, you all decided to end the call since it was getting rather late in the afternoon and you have yet to get started on dinner. You briefly thank Chigiri for his upcoming update and hop off, just in time before you hear the familiar sounds of the front door opening.

"I'm back."

"Welcome back, Rin!"

You can't help but feel slightly embarrassed and guilty that you were essentially gossiping about your husband's lack of sex drive to your friend group, which he hardly knows about, when he comes home with a large bag of takeout and your favorite coffee order. Rin is dressed in his typical workout outfit, which consists of a black form-fitting t-shirt and grey sweatpants that were just loose enough that you can still make an outline of his 'magic jewels', as Bachira likes to write.

"Baby, you didn't have to." You quickly grab the items from his hands so he can set down his gym bag.

He hums in response, briefly kissing your forehead before making his way into the kitchen to fetch a tall glass of water. "You've been cooking all week so I wanted you to take a small break," Rin says with a smile.

Your ears go warm and mimic the smile back, “Thanks, how was practice today?”

He sighs through his nose and wipes away the remaining sweat-covered bangs sticking to his forehead. “Rougher than usual but nothing too crazy. Isagi was more annoying compared to yesterday.” Rin says with a small pout.

“Boo,” You stick your tongue out in agreement, “how dare he annoys my one and only husband?”

“Oh, shut up.” He flicks a finger to your cheek and lets out the slightest fake scoff.

After hydrating, Rin announces quietly that he’ll come back to eat as soon as he takes a shower and darts to the guest bedroom. And with that, you’re reminded of your odd predicament.

He is a good husband and knows that you care for him and vice versa. When both sets of parents first introduced you two, it was awkward and you knew from reading his background that he wasn’t the most sociable of people but you were, and still are, patient. This arranged marriage was more or less a business deal between fathers; your father held the CEO title at a top entertainment company in the nation and Rin’s father wanted to secure the spotlight for the growing star athlete. Rin didn’t say much during that meeting, and neither did you.

Your first kiss with him was also on your first date. It was at his apartment, both of you shared the same hobby of playing horror games, and you were sitting thigh to thigh on his two-seater couch. You were dying multiple rounds in, fingers bruised from button-mashing and mind-busied with inappropriate thoughts as you kept stealing glances at your painfully attractive fiance. It didn’t take long for Rin to notice because it was stupidly obvious. He sat his controller down, took one look at you, and asked, “Do you want me to kiss you?” with a weird little smile that was seemingly almost out of character from what you knew of him. And the kiss was … awkward to say the least. You remembered him leaning down and you were leaning up, mashing lips and a little bit of teeth together. No amount of research that you had done days prior could’ve prepped for that. And it was almost as if it was his first time kissing too, but you fixated on your inexperience than pay any mind to his mysterious relationship track record.

One year later and you’re still stuck at first base.

As if on cue, you feel your phone give out a series of buzzes in your back pocket, already knowing that it’s from your online penpals. You break out from your thoughts and scroll to the top of the messages:

Bachira M. [BluntBangs] “You should try seducing him tonight!” Hiori Y. [ChoppyCyan] “You remember reading Chigiri’s fan favorite short story - “Till Death Do Us Part”? There was this one scene where the characters had to share one bed because the other bedroom got ruined by a leak! Maybe you can “accidentally” make that happen too?” Chigiri H. [RedPanther] “I remember I had a fun time writing that scene. You should definitely try and flirt with him, y/n.” Shidou R. [HornyDemon] “And if your husband won’t fuck you then I will /jk” Hiori Y. [ChoppyCyan] “Shut up you’ll fuck anything that has a pulse”

They weren’t necessarily wrong. You didn’t want this dynamic to potentially go on for another year or even for the rest of your life - trying wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?

You quickly fill up a pitcher of water then peer into the spare guest room and notice warm lighting bleeding through the cracks coming from the bathroom door and the sounds of running water. With Rin still busy washing up, you take the liberty to start messing around for your impromptu operation. You weren’t exactly sure when or who suggested sleeping in separate bedrooms to start but, to your knowledge, this is the first time that you’ve actually sneaked around in his room.

You start with the closet, opening its double doors and seeing his clothes all hung in order and by color. His sneakers and cleats were all stored in separate clear cases in the bottom corner while there is a small center shelf in the middle that holds his cologne, deodorant, and moisturizer. He’s neat, you think to yourself before deciding that it’s probably best to leave his belongings alone and focus on ruining something in the room that was less personal. Next is the carefully made bed with extra fluffed pillows, then the freshly well-kept plants on the window sill, followed by the small framed photo of your wedding day on the bedside table. Guilt immediately rushes over your consciousness.

“No, this won’t do either.” You groan, suddenly feeling like this is the dumbest thing on earth now. “I should just give up.”

“y/n?” Rin’s voice calls out and you snap your head towards his direction, soon to be met with a series of incoherent sputtering from the male as you realize that he’s completely wet and naked.

“Oh my god!” Hands and pitcher fly to your redden face as you try to come up with an excuse but nothing comes out the way you want it to, “I-I uh–water! I thought you needed more water–I’m sorry!”

You hear him scrambling around the room, most likely searching for a towel to cover up his impressive lower half. “You’re fine,” Rin’s voice sounds flustered and unusually high pitched, “just give me a second–”

“N-No I’m sorry! I don’t even know why I’m standing here I should just go and–” Closing your eyes might’ve been the worst choice all day because soon your body meets the wall and soon the floor, spilling the pitcher’s contents all over you in the process.

Your phone vibrates again, text reading:

Bachira M. [BluntBangs] “Did it work?!”

#blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #doobea writing #itoshi rin #rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #blue lock smut #itoshi rin smut #rin itoshi smut #bllk smut #idk how slow but like slowish #they are not gonna fk until like the last chapter i think #but will do everything else in between #i can make your bed rock - rin itoshi #mdni

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wayslidecool · 5 months

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arabic numerals ranked from worst to best by their potential as the lens in new year's glasses

#10: Seven (7)

seven is a very awkward number for a lot of things, and new year's glasses are no exception. its weird angular shape leaves no opening to put a lens in, and unlike the next entry, it's too wide to comfortably squeeze between lens in the second and fourth digits. and the impressive thing about 7 is that this is a number with plenty of writing variations, and yet i can't think of a single one that makes it an efficient lens! sorry 7. i think you're the best number for a rating scale, but that's about it.

#9: One (1)

the 2010s were a rough time for new year's glasses, huh? coming off the high of the 1990s and 2000s, people were determined to make the 2010s work, but that's a tall fucking order. the saving grace of 1, and the reason it's above 7, is that it's skinny enough that you can slide it between numbers and use the fourth digit of the year as the lens, but the fact you have to resort to that is only further evidence of how much 1 sucks at being the lens.

#8: Two (2)

two is definitely a tier above the previous two entries. it's an interesting and versatile enough shape that you can mess with it to try and make a viable spot for a lens, what with the upper loop and lower angle, but i feel no matter what you try, you always gotta make some concessions. like, you have enough to work with that a talented enough designer can make something that works, but usually the result is more "functional" than "good".

#7: Four (4)

now we're getting into numbers that could actually make for passable lenses. i mean, check it out! we have a closed loop here and everything, that has GOT to count for something! what makes me put four relatively low on the list is that with its right-triangle shape, i can't imagine it being a very comfortable shape for a lens, especially with how much ends up sticking out and downwards. still, a vast improvement over the previous three entries, even if it's basically just a worse 9.

#6: Five (5)

i feel like depending on what you prioritize in new year's glasses, these next two entries could end up going below the previous one, but personally, i think the not-closed round loop feels like a more practical spot for a lens than 4's closed-but-angular loop, y'know? so what if the loop isn't closed, it still mostly surrounds your eye, and feels generally passable to me. this is a number that wouldn't inspire the idea for new year's glasses, but certainly works now that the idea has been established.

#5: Three (3)

three is basically the same thing as 5, and i could even see some people putting it below 5, since 5's loop is a bit closer to being closed than either of 3's loops. that being said, 3's dual-loop is ultimately what gives it the edge to me. it ends up feeling more versatile to me. i feel the bottom loop is generally the correct choice, but just having the option of the top loop as well really helps it out. either way, after suffering through the 2010s and 2020s, i expect the 2030s to be a welcome breath of fresh air.

#4: Nine (9)

now we're getting to the really good ones. i mean, the 1990s are when the trend of new year's glasses started! if this number was good enough to kickstart the trend, then clearly it's a good number to put the lens in. having a closed round loop really goes a long way, it turns out! what puts 9 below the next three entries is the tail. having that swoop down towards your face feels like it'd be a bit uncomfortable, and this issue doesn't crop up with the next three entries. still, 9 is a trailblazer and its place in the New Year's Glasses Metagame needs to be respected.

#3: Six (6)

if 9's only issue is the tail getting all up in your face, then what better way to solve that then just turning it upside-down? it might just be me, put having it brush up against your forehead feels much, much less intrusive than having it brush up against your face. and plus, it can give the impression of a raised eyebrow! bonus! the 2030s-2050s are going to be a refreshing breath of fresh air following the awful new year's glasses of the 2010s and 2020s, but the 2060s are going to be a true new year's glasses renaissance.

#2: Eight (8)

hey, so remember how i put 3 above 5 since i felt the double loop made it a bit more versatile? well now imagine that, but both loops are closed. 8 makes for such a good lens, it's a little surprising we didn't see new year's glasses in the 1980s (i'm guessing having two of the same number is more inspiring than two different numbers?) either way, eight isn't content to give you just one closed loop. it'll give you a second closed loop right above. (or below!) 8 is a versatile number with many options, and i hope i can live to see the day we see it in new year's glasses. a true stand out in its field.

#1: Zero (0)

still, even with all the good years ahead, it's hard to ignore the fact that the best years are sadly behind us, with the 2000s being the absolute pinnacle of new year's glasses design. i mean, come on. a single loop with no frills is basically what glasses designs default to already, so using the middle two zeroes as the lens for glasses? impeccable design. the 1990s were good enough to kickstart the trend, but the 2000s were good enough to make us want to brute force the 2010s and 2020s. if that's not the mark of a good design, i don't know what is.

sadly, it's likely we'll never see design this good again. the next year with the middle two digits being two zeroes is 3000, and while we might be able to execute double-zero designs at the turn of each century, they'll end up looking weirdly lopsided in the process. i believe humans are hubristic enough to try and brute-force bad decades, but multiple bad centuries? forget about it.

oh well. happy new year

#happy new year

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fyorina · 1 month

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FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: a series of connected one-shots set in the same universe that can be read as standalones or all together, centered around port mafia member (eventually executive)!reader and dazai's relationship progressing over the years.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: as promised the master list for the universe i’ve been talking about for almost a month now!! they're all in chronological order! and as i said above, can be read as standalones or all together. keep in mind there might be some minor discontinuities but for the most part, there shouldn't be any. although i might adjust things here and now as i get new ideas so keep that in mind!

CHAMPAGNE KISSES | AGE 16

summary: to be added

YOU AND ME (ALWAYS FOREVER) | AGE 18

more than friends, not quite lovers. that's been your relationship with dazai osamu for as long as you can remember. you didn't want to push him, and you gave him plenty of chances, but there's only so long you can wait for someone. you thought you would be better off moving on—you were wrong, of course.

DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUTS | AGE 18, POST-DEFECTION

seven months after his defection, you run into dazai osamu by sheer chance. you know in your heart what you should do—traitors are to be disposed of, regardless of any previous relationship you might've had with them... but can you bring yourself to do what must be done? or will you be more driven by the questions you desperately need answered?

KNOW IT'S FOR THE BETTER (ALL I WANTED WAS YOU) | AGE 19

he can't stop himself from calling; you can't stop yourself from answering. he never speaks, but he doesn't have to—just knowing he's there is enough to lure you in. that's how it remains for weeks. that is until you mention that you're going on a risky mission and dazai has to to make an equally risky decision to keep you safe.

HE'S THE SERPENTINE, HE'S MY COLLAR | AGE 22

you're finally back in yokohama after spending three years abroad dealing with mori's foreign business. the last person you want is to see dazai osamu, the wounds of his abrupt betrayal still too fresh for comfort. unfortunately, he decides to take matters into his own hands by showing up at your office in the middle of the night

I LAUGH LIKE ME AGAIN (SHE LAUGHS LIKE YOU) | AGE 22

four years apart and the ultimate question is about to be answered: do you and dazai really still know each other, or are you clinging to a fantasy of the past? you decide to put it to the test with a game of wits and questions when dazai gets back to your apartment—but as the game drags on, dazai starts to wonder if maybe he was wrong. worse, if maybe he would prefer to be wrong.

GOOD OLD FASHIONED LOVER BOY/KILLER QUEEN | AGE 22

summary: to be added

NOT CONNECTED

PLEASE DON'T GO, I'LL EAT YOU WHOLE (I LOVE YOU SO) | AGE 17

summary: to be added, may 7

#dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bsd smut #dazai smut #dazai osamu smut #bungo stray dogs smut

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jenroses · 7 months

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Hey! Please feel free to ignore but you did say to ask you about masks :P the ones I've found that are multiple layers for max protection are really stiff, which squishes my face and leads to gaps. Do you have recommendations? Thanks!

I know that there's a lot of noise about elastomeric masks but for me they're a nonstarter because of the stiffness you talk about. I think it's important to understand that most of the 94-95 standard masks that actually meet that standard are going to be plenty good enough where most people are concerned. Is it possible to catch Covid with a mask on? Yes. I've done it.

Is it likely? No. I'm immune compromised. This isn't data, but our experience has been that a combination of masks, reasonable common sense and good filtration are enough that despite having a school-aged child, a husband who travels for conventions, and me, immune suppressed, with a college student living in our house, I have only had covid twice, the first time was an unfortunate collision of me going to a store at the wrong time where a clerk had both covid and the flu and gave them to me, and the other one involved a family member not using a mask at a public event while eating. Even then, when I caught covid and the flu at the same time and isolated immediately with filtration and everyone coming into my space being masked... not one other person in our house caught it, and when someone else caught it a year later, the only people who caught it were sharing sleeping spaces. Our roommates did not catch it, and everyone was masking from the moment of the first positive test. When my kid got half-assed about masking at school, he immediately got flu and strep at the same time. I pointed out that his lack of care about it could mean a lot of missed school for him and serious health impacts for both of us, and he started wearing a mask again, and did not get sick for the rest of the school year. He HATES the masks that go behind the head and wears Armbrust kn95 masks exclusively (dark blue, lol) And it's pretty clear that without the masks he was getting sick a lot and with he just...doesn't. He is wearing them all day except for lunch through full school days, so that says something. Armbrust will send little behind the head doohickies to keep them off the ears but he never uses them. At $2ish per mask they're not the cheapest but he uses one mask for multiple days so it's not too bad overall cost wise. They have kid sizing, but he's in the regular adult size now at 11. Now, I'll talk about Armbrust for a minute because I really like the company. On pretty much every mask they sell you'll see a video of one of their people reviewing the mask and going over testing data... but they ALSO have reviews of almost every other mask on the market, bad, good and in between, and if you find a mask on Amazon or something and want to know more about it, search the mask name and "armbrust" and the youtube video and product data page will pop up. I've found several special masks for very particular needs by looking through their database for combinations of breathability and shape that weren't even masks they sold. So if you are struggling, take a look at the database, eliminate "failed" masks, look for the ones that meet your needs and then watch the video to see what he says about them first. There are some VERY inexpensive masks out there that work very well, and some masks that are incredibly breathable or incredibly high filtration and a few unicorns that are both.

Now Hubby is okay with the same KN95 masks that our son likes but he exercises and his lungs get a little touchy sometimes so he needs maximum ease in breathing, so using that database I found Dr. Puri masks. Here's the Armbrust review. Here's the listing I found them on. Hubby LOVES them. He also prefers behind the ear. About $1.50 each.

I *hate* behind the ear with a hot hate, they bug me. But I can't just use one type of mask all the time because I have EDS and neck issues so pressure there can be awkward, plus I get short of breath sometimes anyway (history of pulmonary embolism that long predates covid) and I have sensory skin issues.

Bar none the most breathable mask I've ever tried, which also does not fog my glasses, is the Drager mask. These are soft, extraordinarily easy to breathe through, and have a unique strap that makes on/off very easy, and lets you pull the top strap and let it hang around your neck if needed. Unfortunately it has a VERY snug fit across the nose and leaves marks on my cheeks, or it would be perfect, but it's a good option, and possibly someone with a smaller face would have an easier time. These are possibly the best filtering and most breathable masks on the market, so for high risk situations this is the mask I would use. They filter 99.7% in testing. They're a little more expensive at about $1.25 per when I checked today. For a good intersection of fit and comfort, but a little less breathable, are the ACI N95 surgical respirator duckbills. These do not leave marks, don't fog much, good seal around the face, and the single most comfortable head strap I've ever seen. The fabric is very smooth, it is sensory good, but the breathability is not as high. It's not hard to breathe through, it's just not as easy as Drager or Dr. Puri. But... They could probably pass an N99 standard by Armbrust's testing, as they filter >99.4% of particulate, where the standard is 95%. These are also incredibly cheap. If you get their subscribe and save discount (you can do every 6 months) you can get 50 for $25, so 50 cents apiece.

All of these masks are pretty soft, easy to wear, and very good at what they do.

The TL:DR though.... The important thing is to find a mask that you will wear consistently and correctly every time you need it. A mask that hangs on your face and slips is not a good mask for you. A mask you hate so much you make excuses not to wear it is not a good mask for you. A mask that breaks easily or makes it hard to breathe so you end up taking it off is not a good mask. If what you have isn't working, there are LOTS of things that might.

Last Armbrust plug: THEY HAVE A SAMPLER PACK. You can buy a pack of a zillion different types and styles of mask and try a bunch! And order the one you like best! If you aren't sick, one sampler pack can be tried by the people in your household so everyone can figure out what works for them!

Also, I used to get sick very very often and now I just...don't. Not from contagious viruses, anyway. I don't understand why people are so cavalier about it. I've been sick less since 2020 than in any given six month period in my entire life. Despite being on immune suppressants.

#masks #face masks #n95 masks #covid isn't over

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hermajestyimher · 1 year

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This Is How We Will Own 2023:

We're less than a month away from the New Year, and as such, it is important that we begin to set the foundations and plans we have to not only succeed, but make 2023 a memorable year.

Regardless of how 2022 went for you, regardless of how many goals you were able to achieve, a new year marks a new beginning. Do not beat yourself over how things went, focus on how you can improve them moving forward.

In 2023 we're:

Spending less time being passive scrollers online. The pandemic is over, the world is back in action and so must we. It's time to stop letting our minds be consumed by the opinions of thousands of people on the internet. More often than not, the things we read online come from the psyche of mentally unwell individuals, and given social media's tendency to prompt out the voices of the most unhinged, it gives people that shouldn't have a platform a false sense of authority. In 2023 we're getting off the grid as much as we can and reconnecting with the real world. We will not allow this online façade to swallow us into its void any longer.

Spending more time learning and engaging in high-end activities and hobbies that can elevate our social circle and our taste. Things like polo matches, pilates, ballet, opera, piano classes, poetry, political forums, martial arts, and high-intensity sports, among other things. It is crucial to cultivate a persona that engages in a variety of fulfilling activities that can bring us joy but also help us grow as individuals.

Prioritizing our health and fitness. No more excuses, it's time to cut down on added sugar and refined carbs, time to eat more nutrient-dense whole foods, drink plenty of water daily, invest in vitamin injections every other month, take supplements to improve our body's collagen production, and overcome feelings of laziness by pushing ourselves through fitness goals. 2023 we will make of the gym our sanctuary.

Living below our budget and investing as much as we can. If you haven't already, get a financial advisor, develop long and short-term financial goals and get organized with your income. It doesn't matter if in the past you've felt like your financial habits have not been the most adequate, it's never too late to take control of them and be responsible. We owe to ourselves to spend wisely to have the peace of mind financial security brings. Never go broke trying to impress others.

We're no longer entertaining inadequate men. I must admit I'm guilty of this myself. After years of not dating, getting back into the dating scene has felt extremely disappointing and tiring. Most prospects are simply not up to par with the standards I have and what I want out of my life partner. Sometimes we allow ourselves to become desperate to build these types of romantic relationships that we begin to overlook the things that we really want deep down. In 2023, we're refocusing our attention on living our best lives and being as active as possible in real-life events as touched upon previously, and trust that the right dating prospects will present themselves when we least expect. We attract, we don't chase.

Finally, we're overcoming negative self-talk patterns that hinder our growth. We're investing in therapy, we're unlearning the limiting beliefs that keep us in bondage to people, routines, and views of the world that are not good for us. We have to put an end to the insidious lie of the scarcity mindset, overcome past traumas, and look forward to the good things that are yet to come.

There are many more things I could add to this list, but for now, these are the things I and I know many of you will find helpful on improving on for the year to come. These lists can come out as intimidating to some people, but we have to remember that we are not expected to become the ideal version of ourselves overnight. Growth is a marathon, not a sprint, and it requires consistency. Each day that you wake up and choose to do one or two things differently you're making stride towards that better you. No improvement is ever too little.

Let's make 2023 a memorable year, and every year afterwards.

Daphne.

#2023 planning #blog piece #things ive learned #goal setting #level up journey #levelingup

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lowkeychenle · 10 months

Text

Like We Just Met [ZCL] (M)

Description: Everything else about the day is completely normal when Chenle realizes he wants to marry you. It hits him like a tidal wave, and he's itching to tell you just how much he wants to love you forever.

Genre: Fluff (literally SO MUCH FLUFF we love Chenle in this house go away if you don't) // Smut

Content Warnings: Explicit unprotected sex (it's actually sweet this time am I feeling okay), talks about marriage etc etc. Nothing really dark or upsetting in here.

Word Count: 11,292 (y'all I have no idea how this happened...)

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader (feat. the rest of the Dreamies)

ISTJ 7Dream Series Masterlist

Juliet's Masterlist | Requests/Tell me what you think of this plz <3

Tag List (open for ISTJ 7Dream Series): @kunvibing

Author's Note: Lowkey? This was so fun because it's from Chenle's POV...or it's supposed to be haha. This is probably my favorite fic I've ever written catch me crying in the corner...also this gif don't mind the real tears in my eyes

Nobody questioned Renjun when he said he’d invited his friend to dance practice. They brought friends in every now and then, so it wasn’t anything new. Chenle was having a bit of an off day. He kept screwing up the choreography (that he’d done seven hundred times probably in the past week alone) and even accidentally elbowed Jaemin.

Renjun’s friend had yet to show up. Chenle was beyond frustrated with the way things were going, so he let everyone know he was taking a break. He grabbed his water bottle and stomped out of the practice room.

He ended up a bit down the hallway, resting his back on the wall with his eyes closed. All he needed was a break. That had to be it.

“Are you okay?” a soft voice asked.

When he looked at you, he recoiled a bit. He’d never seen you before—he’d definitely remember—but something about you felt familiar. Like a warm aura surrounded you and infiltrated him in the best ways.

“You’re Chenle, right?” You tilted your head at him. “I’m Renjun’s friend, (Y/N). I was supposed to watch practice, but I got lost. This building is pretty big.”

“Yeah, I’m Chenle.” He blinks at you a couple more times. “Um, we’re always in the same practice room. I’ll take you over there.”

“Actually, is there a place to get some water? I forgot mine at home.” You scratched the top of your head and scrunched up your nose. “It was really hot outside.”

“It’s on the way.” He gestured down the hall with his head.

You followed him without hesitation. He was acutely aware of every step you took, of how there was only a few feet between the two of you. Even though he had no clue what to say to you, you didn’t mind walking along in silence. It was unlike him to be shy. Next to impossible for him to be starstruck.

“How long have you known Renjun for?” he asked. And why the hell had you not come around sooner?

“Oh.” You took a deep breath and pursed your lips in thought as Chenle stopped to grab you a water bottle from the kitchen. “Four years now? Five? His family knows mine, so when I came back here, his parents told him he had to help me find my way around.”

“Well, today’s pretty laid back,” Chenle explains. “We’ll probably practice for another hour or two and then go home. We’ve been at it all day.”

You hum in response, opening the cap and taking a sip. “Thank you for this. Sorry to keep you from practice.”

“Don’t be. I’m ready to get the hell out of here.” Chenle chuckles, gaze drinking you in when you’re distracted by your water. “And…they can be a little…much at first. But they’re all great people, so you’ll be fine.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m nervous.” You narrowed your eyes at him playfully.

He bit back a smile, pressing his lips into a thin line instead. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Renjun has given me plenty of warnings,” you tell him.

He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t taken you to the practice room yet. The two of you stood in the kitchen, but he knew the second you were with everyone else, the conversation was over. He didn’t want to stop talking to you, and that odd feeling of warmth settled into his chest.

“Like what?” Chenle raised his eyebrows.

“He said you’re cranky and mean.” You smiled at him, and he swore he was almost knocked off his feet. There was something about you that drew him in.

Chenle made a mental note to scold Renjun later, but he’s not necessarily wrong…he was cranky until he saw you.

“Well, in that case, what he said about everyone else is probably accurate, too.”

“You don’t look cranky,” you interjected. “You’re not mean either. Mean people don’t get strangers water bottles.”

“I’m mean to Renjun. And Jisung.”

“They’re your friends. You get a pass for your friends.” You slid one of your hands into the back pocket of your jeans, rocking on the balls of your feet as silence befell the room.

“They’re waiting for me,” Chenle says. “We should go.”

You nodded in agreement and followed him. He sulked a bit when the other members were introduced to you. They were all nice—because they always were—but when it came time to get back to practice, he found himself gravitating toward you several times.

Nearly every time he looked at you, you were already looking at him, too. Maybe it wasn’t just him that felt the weird tug. He hoped it wasn’t.

After they wrapped everything up, Chenle sat against the back wall, feeling so heavy as if he could fall asleep right there. He was exhausted.

Jaemin, Jeno, Donghyuck, and Mark were already on their way out the door, leaving Jisung to slump next to Chenle and Renjun to talk with you. Jisung noted how he was watching you, but he didn’t say anything right away. He drank his water and stayed quiet.

You said something to Renjun, who smiled at you and nodded. He headed for the door and waited for you outside. When Chenle realized you were coming over to him, he shot a worried glance over at Jisung.

“Would you look at that?” Jisung cleared his throat. “Time for me to go.”

Before Chenle could even grab him, Jisung was halfway to the door. Once you were in front of him, you sat down and crossed your legs.

“You did really well today.”

He chuckled. “I think that’s the worst I’ve done this comeback season.”

“Then you’re in pretty good shape.” You shrugged, picking at the seam of your jeans. “I wanted to thank you. For helping me earlier.”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” he said. “You’re Renjun’s friend. Of course, I’d help you.”

“Right.” You brushed your hair over your shoulder and prepared to stand up. “I should go—”

“Will you be coming back?” The question shot out of his mouth, sending a blush to his cheeks in response.

“I’m not sure,” you told him. “That’s up to Renjun I guess. It was really cool to see how passionate you guys are.”

“Let me give you my number.” Chenle grabbed his phone from his pocket. “Um, just in case you get lost again. And need help finding the room.” He cringed at himself, hoping he wasn’t going to get rejected.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You gave him the tiniest smile, but it made his heart flutter anyway.

He handed it to you with the contact app open. You didn’t even hesitate to type in your name and number. After, you sent yourself a text, and Chenle heard it ring in your back pocket. You gave it back to him, grinned, and left him sitting there in shock.

He couldn’t choose between staring at you as you left and looking down at your contact open on his screen. His stomach twisted with nerves, but the second he saw the smiley face emoji you’d put next to your name, he already knew.

You were going to be someone to him.

Mark drops something in the kitchen, snapping Chenle out of it. He looks at you, and you smile back at him. With you pressed into his side and your legs over his lap, he can’t help but grin right back.

His hand rests on your thigh, thumb sliding gently back and forth as he presses a kiss to your temple. He’d never get used to this.

After returning from the kitchen, Mark allows the game to resume. His nose scrunches as he glances between you and Chenle. “That’s a weird ass question.”

“Not weird.” Chenle shakes his head. “Critical thinking, Mark, you should try it.”

“Oh, be nice.” You shove his shoulder.

For a while now, Chenle has felt his feelings growing more than he thought possible. He’s already in love with you (thankfully, since you’ve been together almost a year now), but something about you lately has him on a whole other level. Even then, he’s not sure what it is. He decides he’ll ride it out for a while and see where it takes him.

“Why would you ask your girlfriend what year she’d take a time machine back to? Shouldn’t she be like…happiest now?” Mark asks, sipping on whatever mixed drink he’d prepared in Chenle’s kitchen.

“You’d think.” Chenle snorts, leaning back against the couch and throwing his arm around you.

“He asks me questions like this all the time,” you tell Mark. When you steal a glance at your boyfriend, his breath catches in his chest.

What the hell is going on with him lately? He can’t concentrate around you (even more than usual) and every tiny thing you do has his heart hammering against his ribcage. Soon enough, he’s sure you’ll both hear the bones crack.

“Has anyone, by chance, ever told you two that you’re gross?” Mark chuckles to himself and leans back in the recliner. “Some of us are single and lonely, you know.”

“Some of us will never be that again,” Chenle shoots back.

“Oh, you two are the worst.” Your laugh echoes pleasantly in his ears, and he subconsciously leans closer to you.

“I am curious what your answer is, though,” Mark interjects. “Since Chenle’s so sure.”

Chenle takes a sip of his own drink, nearly cringing at the bitter taste dragging down his throat. He’s not much of a drinker—social at best. But he can still appreciate the buzz and the hazy happiness that comes with it. You take his hand that dangles over your shoulder, twirling the friendship ring wrapped around his middle finger. The action is so, so simple, yet it makes his stomach turn.

If he doesn’t figure out what the hell’s going on with him soon, he’s gonna have to separate himself from you.

“Well, you’re right.” You shrug, shuffling closer to Chenle. “This part of my life has definitely been the best. But if I could go back to any time, it would probably be when we met. You only get to meet Zhong Chenle once in your life, dude. I’d do it over and over again if I could. The second I saw him, I knew he would be important to me.”

Chenle thinks back to the moment he first saw you. The way he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you like an actual child or the way he took in every detail of you to store in his mind forever—just in case he never got to speak to you again. He pauses, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he analyzes your answer.

Mark groans. “That doesn’t count! That was last year.”

Grabbing the pillow next to him, Chenle throws it at his friend. “Leave her alone, it was a good answer.”

But when he contemplates that thought, he’s not sure he understands what you mean. His ears burn, the tips of them turning red as he recalls how embarrassingly nervous he was around you all the time. How awkward all of your firsts together were. Everything now is so much better than back then.

Not to mention he’s looked at you the same way since that first night. His feelings for you have grown, sure, but those butterflies he used to get still torment him just about every time he sees you smile.

“Why?” Chenle finally asks.

“You were so cute,” you hum, shifting closer to him. “Everything made you nervous. You almost keeled over in embarrassment when you asked to hold my hand.”

Mark laughs, and Chenle sends a glare his way. No part of that is even anywhere near funny.

“Okay, it's your turn.” Mark gestures at you.

Chenle resists the urge to reach over and touch your face. Usually, he’s so much better about being so clingy in front of his friends and, while he would prefer Mark not seeing this side of him, he couldn’t care less when his gaze is locked with yours.

“Cool.” You nod, taking a sip of your drink. “Both of you. Hypothetical situation. Let’s say you’re drunk. You walk into a room and everyone you’ve ever loved is in there. Like…loved. Who are you going to?”

“Dude.” Mark’s jaw drops. “That’s such a shitty question for me.”

“You’ll live,” Chenle replies. “Just romantic love?”

“All of it. Platonic, romantic, family.” You purse your lips in thought.

Chenle doesn’t have to think about it. Not really. He’d rather get struck by lightning and then hit by a bus right after before admitting that so easily in front of Mark. In this case, it’s always been you. From the second you spoke to him for the first time, he was irrevocably yours.

“You.” Chenle watches your eyebrows raise.

“Be serious,” you say. “Your parents are included in that.”

“I’m serious. You.” Chenle chuckles.

You give him a pointed look, but that’s when Mark cuts in.

“No, he’s for real. Like…that legitimately happened.” Mark leans forward, elbows digging into his thighs as he rests his head in his palms. “Do you guys not remember?”

“What are you talking about?” you ask him, frowning.

Chenle remembers. Barely, and it’s a bit foggy, but it comes back like a baseball bat upside the head as Mark starts telling the story.

Chenle’s birthday party last year. The night was barely halfway through and he was drunk enough to be stumbling over his feet. He’d heard you were coming, but he had yet to see you. Even when every other feeling was numbed by the tingling sensation the alcohol left behind, his craving to see you was all that remained.

Mark walked next to him, having a full conversation with himself since Chenle was so fog-brained. As much as he loved Mark, there was only one person he wanted to see. Everyone he knew and loved was here—his parents, the rest of his group, and Jisung had somehow forgotten to uninvite Chenle’s ex.

He only ever dated one person before you, but he wasn’t sure he ever loved her. Regardless, there she was. Even with her standing across the room from him, he kept waiting like a lost puppy.

When you walked in, he swore the whole world stopped around him. Everyone but you was moving in slow motion before they eventually faded into nothing, darkness that was emphasized by the light you were. His breath caught in his throat, and he stopped walking.

Chenle couldn’t form a coherent thought while he stared at you, drunken stupor making it so much easier to forget the embarrassment. Mark watched him curiously as Chenle made his way over to you. He refused to waste any more time when he knew you were the one he wanted to talk to.

You had always been more confident around him than he was around you. Your face lit up when you saw him, wrapping your arms around him. He secured you in his grasp, breathing in the scent of your hair and the perfume you wore.

“Happy birthday.” Your voice is muffled a bit by his T-shirt. “Sorry I’m late, took a bit longer to get ready than I thought it would.”

He knew he should’ve let you go. People were starting to notice the way he was clinging to you, and not even being drunk could excuse that behavior. He was about ready to tell everyone except you to leave. Nothing else mattered. If he could spend his birthday with you, it would be the best one yet.

It’d been two months since Renjun had introduced you to the rest of them. Which means, he’s only known of your existence for two months, and you already command so much of his brain matter that he can’t think of anyone but you. Great.

He finally (reluctantly) let you go and led you over to the rest of the group. Nobody said anything when he made Mark scoot over so you could sit next to him. Nobody questioned it. His parents would ask him about it later, but until then, there was no reason for him to worry. After all, his crush on you was the most obvious thing in the world, so it was only a matter of time before you found out about it.

By the end of the night, he hadn’t spent enough time with you. People were starting to shuffle out, but you stayed, chatting with Renjun until only four remained. Chenle’s parents had gone to bed long ago. You were almost caught up to him on drinks, your laughs longer and your movements slower.

Under any other circumstances, he wouldn’t have been as brave as to walk up to you and ask you to stay the night. He didn’t mean it in a suggestive way, either. He just didn’t want you to leave yet.

“Chenle,” Renjun scolds, swatting his shoulder. “You can’t ask something like that so casually.”

“You want me to stay here? With you?” Your voice was higher than normal. Chenle accredited it to the alcohol raging in your system.

“I like when you’re here.” Chenle nodded. “You make everything calm.”

Renjun scrunched up his face, slamming his forehead into his palm. “(Y/N), you should probably go home—”

“No, it’s okay.” You brushed him off. “I’m okay with staying.”

Oh, he was in love with you. There was no other explanation for the way his heart skipped a beat when those words came out of your mouth.

Chenle doesn’t remember the rest of that night, but he does recall waking up next to you in the morning and freaking out. Alcohol made him brave, but it didn’t save him from the red-hot embarrassment of the next day.

“I didn’t even realize…” you trailed off, a small smile forming on your face. “You picked me.”

“I’ll always pick you,” Chenle responds easily, like second nature.

Mark decides it’s time for him to leave, but Chenle’s mind is still reeling with memories. With all of the firsts you said you wished you could relive. But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t figure out what the fuck this feeling is. As the two of you climb into bed, he’s so distracted, he can’t fall asleep, even with you curled into his chest.

“(Y/N),” Chenle groaned when he saw you in the practice room mirror. “You gotta stop showing up here if you don’t want me to fall in love with you.”

It was a joke. Sort of.

“Right, and let you forget to eat? I think not.” You fought back every time, unphased by the way he so casually admitted he’s starting to fall for you.

At least, that was his idea of admitting it.

You walked over with the bags in your hand, sitting down on the practice room floor next to him.

“I haven’t even been here that long,” Chenle defended himself. “I would’ve eaten after I left.”

You unloaded the contents, opening boxes. “I can go if that’s what you want.”

“Not what I said.” For some reason, he felt a sudden burst of courage. He’s known you for four months at this point, and something about today felt…right. “I was serious, you know.”

“About what?” You grabbed the drinks from the carrier.

“You.”

“What?” You recoiled, looking at him in confusion.

He contemplated telling you to forget it. That it didn’t matter, and thank you for the food instead. If you didn’t feel the same way for him, he’d be devastated. And then you’d leave him for good and take all the food with you. He was starving.

“If you keep doing nice things for me, I’m gonna fall for you.” As if he hasn’t already.

You paused, but Chenle didn’t miss the blush on your face. Clearing your throat, you looked away from him and took a deep breath. His fists clenched as he awaited your rejection, but the longer the silence stretched, the more he felt you might want him to.

“Don’t say things like that if you don’t mean it,” you finally said and brushed your hair behind your ears. Reaching forward for the food again, you gave Chenle a shocked look when he grabbed your wrist.

“You’re right. I’m not going to fall for you. I already did.”

Your jaw dropped, eyes widening as his words settled in the air around both of you. With his heart racing, he released your wrist and intertwined your fingers instead.

“I really, really like you.”

“You should really eat your food before it gets cold.” You pulled your hand from his and pushed the box closer to him.

He stared blankly at the wall, noting the sudden chill on his skin that you left behind. A sinking feeling encapsulated his chest, and he knew he ruined everything. You looked like you were ready to run.

“Forget I said anything,” he told you. “I’m sorry if that was weird.”

“Eat,” you commanded again. “I’m not talking about this with you until I know you’ve eaten. If you don’t, we’ll go off on a tangent and you’ll be starving all night.”

“Does that mean you—”

“Yes, Chenle.” You interrupted him. “Yes, I really, really like you too, which is why I want to make sure you eat.”

At that moment, Chenle realized that if he walked outside and randomly dropped dead, he’d be okay with it now that he’s gotten that confession out of you. There wasn’t a damn thing that could top that. Everything else in life would be subpar to today, so there was no point in trying.

You and Chenle ate in silence. He kept stealing glances at you, catching you doing the same to him. If all he had to do in order to get you to talk about your feelings with him was eat, he’d do it, albeit probably a bit too fast for his own good.

Chenle runs his fingers through his hair, his thumb tracing gentle shapes against the bare skin of your arm. These memories have no business popping up in the middle of the night. He has practice tomorrow. He’ll be so off his game, the other members will want to kill him.

Usually, he has no problem falling asleep, especially with you right beside him. Over the past year, you’ve probably spent more nights with him than you have at your own place. He teases you for it all the time, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Closing his eyes, he listens to the soft sounds of your breathing and allows himself to feel the way your body slots with his so easily. Everything about you is perfect. About the two of you together. He would toss and turn, but no way is he going to disturb you. Even if he can’t sleep, he’d never screw up your schedule on purpose.

“It’s so pretty.” You were in awe, staring at the sunset from Chenle’s backyard. He’d set up a picnic date for the two of you, and afterward, you were watching the sun fade below the treeline while lying on top of a red blanket.

His fingers were intertwined with yours, something that had become so normal for you. Two weeks since his confession, and it was the second date he planned. He wondered, obsessed over, even, what your thought process was on all of this. Were you happy? Did he make you happy?

He wanted to kiss you when he confessed to you. And while he came close to it on your first date, he decided against it. It had to be perfect. Nothing was good enough for you in his mind, especially when all he wanted was to make sure you knew just how he felt about you.

How was he supposed to tell you that?

He’d already said he fell for you, but that didn’t begin to cover it. Not really. You made him want to put in effort, made him crave your happiness like it was the very oxygen he breathed. At the same time, he didn’t want you to think he didn’t want to kiss you. Hell, he’d already dreamed of it, for fuck’s sake, so that definitely wasn’t the issue.

Lost in thought, he’s only snapped out of it by the way you rolled over, lying on your stomach so you can get a good look at his face. You rested your head on your right palm, your left finding his bicep.

“You’re so perfect,” he hummed, twirling your hair with his fingers. “Could look at you forever.”

“Some people might have an issue with that.” You laughed.

“We’re the only ones that matter,” he responded.

Your smile slowly faded, a look of longing replacing it as your gaze softened.

God, he wanted to kiss you. He needed to.

All thoughts of the perfect moment have fled from his brain. Any moment would be perfect as long as it’s you.

He sat up and you leaned forward, and before he knew it, his nose brushed yours. Your eyes fluttered shut in preparation. The heat of the sun sank into his skin. Your perfume wafted from you, intertwining with the air and suffocating him in the best ways. If he could pick one scent to smell for the rest of his life, it would be yours.

Was it normal to have these thoughts so early?

Why was he thinking of that right now? Literally the worst possible time.

“Can I?” he whispered, scared to ruin everything.

“Yes.”

As soon as the word left your mouth, he kissed you. Everything about you was soft, so he shouldn’t have been so surprised to find your lips the same way. His hands shook as he touched your waist.

He was already in big trouble. There wasn’t a single part of him that wanted to stop there. His heart thudded so loud, he was halfway sure you could hear it, too. It felt like sparks flew between you two, absolute electricity coursing through every single one of his veins, heating up his bloodstream and making the thought of pulling away from you the absolute worst case scenario.

You moved away first, gasping for breath. Chenle craved tugging you back to him. His body reacted to you in ways it had never reacted to anyone else. He didn’t want to take it too far, but he sure as hell didn’t want to stop, either.

He couldn’t describe the way you felt. The way you tasted. Everything about you was so heart-achingly perfect, he wanted to experience you all the time. He wanted to rewind time so he could kiss you again for the first time, and he’d do it over and over and over again.

Something about first kisses set him on fire. He was absolutely sure he’d kiss you more. In fact, he was seconds away from it. But the adrenaline coming from the very first brush of your lips on his wasn’t something he’d ever be able to recreate.

“Again.” You leaned in once more.

He met you in the middle eagerly, hand finding the back of your head before he turned you so you were lying on your back. Half of his weight pressed against you, but he did his best to keep himself lifted up so you weren’t uncomfortable.

Unforgettable heat swarmed him, the sun caressing his skin as your fingers gently traced down the back of his neck. Goosebumps formed, but he could hardly pay attention to them. The entire world was gone, and you were everything, the only person remaining in a sea of nothingness. He wanted you. Needed you.

This was technically your second kiss, but in his mind, it was still the first since they happened almost at the same time. He hadn’t stopped to take a breath in much too long, but he’d rather suffocate than separate from you.

He stopped when your breath hitched, completely lost in the sound. When he wasn’t focusing on your mouth anymore, he realized why—his hand had somehow found its way to your upper thigh. His face burned as he removed it.

“I didn’t…” he trailed off, scanning over your face for any hint of what you were feeling. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

You chuckled at him, pushing his shoulder. “You wish that excuse would work on me.”

The sky faded into a beautiful lilac color, the kind that only appeared when the sun was barely peeking over the horizon. Clouds drifted effortlessly, stars beginning to shine.

“Should we go inside?” Chenle asked. “It’ll get cold without the sun.”

Whenever he looked at you, he knew you were different. He couldn’t place how, but nobody else had ever made him feel the way you do. Like his heart was going to burst out of his chest while simultaneously stopping and also skipping every other beat. He didn’t even know how he was alive anymore.

In the last two weeks since his confession, the boys had told him how much happier he was. How he was striving with more effort lately and trying his best at any given moment of the day. You were his motivation. You made him want to be the absolute best he could be, and even as new as the relationship was, he’d already known you for months—he was nervous about you deciding you wanted something else. Someone who wasn’t him.

The moment before replayed in his head, and he heard that breath hitch on repeat while he awaited your answer. He did his best to stop thinking about it, but nothing worked. All he wanted to do was kiss you again, over and over and over until the literal end of time.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Let’s go inside.”

His cheeks redden just thinking of that memory. The first time he ever kissed you, and he royally fucked up because his hand didn’t know how to stay put. At this point, it’s clear he’s not going to be able to fall asleep. He hates the idea of leaving you in bed alone, but he’s only going to disturb you if he doesn’t plan on sleeping.

Sliding away from you carefully, he quietly gets up and heads into the kitchen. He runs his fingers through his hair. His hands down his face. He must be sentimental today, because he can’t stop thinking about you for the life of him. Every memory from the last year pokes at his head, and he has no clue how to handle it.

Patting his cheeks, he heads over to the fridge to grab a water bottle. Photos of the two of you are framed up on the wall. There’s one picture in particular he always says is his favorite, but he refuses to tell you why.

The two of you were sitting on the floor, and you had the cutest glare on your face. He sees the adoration gleaming in your gaze even though you look about ready to strangle him. In your defense, you probably were. He lets out a tiny laugh, tracing over the frame.

There’s even one with Chenle between you and Jisung, and a group picture with you and the boys. Chenle loves his friends dearly, and the way they’ve welcomed you with open arms says a lot about both your relationship with them and his potential future with you. Everyone in his life loves you. You’re the one they call when Chenle’s upset or if he’s off his game, and no matter when or where this is happening, you show up to make him feel better.

He could be having the worst day of his entire existence, and a simple ‘I love you’ passing from your lips has him forgetting everything shitty about the world. Looking back at the pictures, he’s drawn back into memory.

He heard the birds outside his window before he saw the gleaming sun. His eyes fluttered open while he groaned quietly at the sudden change of brightness. Your body was like a fireball, your skin searing hot against his, but it did little to bother him. His groan turned into a sigh of content, and he wrapped his arms around you tighter. Fingertips trailing down your bare spine, he kissed your forehead.

Three months together, and every night spent with you made him fall deeper in love. He’d never known peace as he did at that moment. No interruptions, just the two of you basking in each other’s embrace.

He could’ve stayed like that forever—he wanted to, but glancing at the clock, he realized how close it was to noon. Jaemin would be there soon, and the last thing Chenle needed was him in his house when you were naked in his bed.

He reluctantly got up, dressing himself before grabbing some clothes for you. You have a drawer, multiple, actually, but he picked his own T-shirt for you to wear. When he made it over to you, you were stirring.

“You got up.” You pouted at him, staring at him through half-closed eyes. “And you have clothes on.”

Chenle laughed. “Sorry, love. Jaemin will be here soon.”

“It’s that late?” you asked.

Chenle nodded, setting the clothes down next to you. He kissed you softly, gently, a kiss so barely there it left you leaning forward to try to continue it. Cupping your cheek, he brushed his thumb along your skin.

You didn’t need help getting dressed, but he did it anyway. He loved the way you looked in his T-shirts, and even though it’s long enough to cover you, no way he’d risk it. Once you were finished, the two of you got ready for the day. You brushed your teeth together, he watched you brush your hair, and by the time you’re done, Jaemin was walking in the front door.

The three of you sat on the floor around Chenle’s coffee table, playing a game. He can’t remember what the game was anymore, only that you were terrible at it and that he loved winning.

Jaemin teased both of you the whole time, ruffling Chenle’s hair on multiple occasions. As much as he’d love to deny it, Chenle enjoyed that Jaemin liked the two of you together. It was almost like an affirmation, even if he didn’t need one.

Being the professional picture-snapper he was, Jaemin took the picture now hanging up on Chenle’s wall. You, with your arms crossed over your chest and a big pout on your face, and Chenle, smiling widely at you with such adoration in his eyes it should’ve been impossible.

“Lele?” Your soft voice breaks him away from his memory. He turns to you quickly, heart instantly halting in his chest when he sees his shirt on you.

“What are you doing up?” he asks.

“I was gonna ask you that.” You rub your eyes, feet shuffling on the floor as you walk over to him.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he replies and takes you in his arms with ease. “Didn’t want to bug you, sunshine.”

You don’t respond. All you do is bury your head in his chest and breathe him in. He runs his fingers through your hair, kissing the top of your head. With all the lights off, the only illumination is the full moon outside as it casts shadows on the ground. The faint blue makes you that much more ethereal to him.

“You okay?” he whispers.

“Mm,” you hum in response. “This is nice.”

Chenle smiles. “Yeah, it is. Always is.”

After a bit of silence and rocking you gently, an idea sparks. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, finding the playlist he made specifically for when he thinks about you, and sets it on the counter. You stare at him in tired confusion, but when one of his arms wraps around your waist, you catch on.

“What are you doing?” Humor is laced in your voice, but the sweet look on your face tells him his actions are making you happy. That’s his goal, constantly. All he wants is to make you happy.

“Checking something off the bucket list,” he replies, slowly turning you to the soft beat.

“Something’s missing,” you say as he twirls you.

He steals a glance at the way his shirt rides up your legs, showing just a peek of your panties beneath it.

“What?” he asks, pulling you back to him.

“Sing to me.” You place your hand on his chest.

His heart betrays him at that moment. It rages, and he knows you can feel it. Chenle sings in front of thousands of people all the time, but something about you is different. Something about you right now is different.

“What’s going on up in there?” You run your fingers through his hair. “You’ve been all weird today.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he admits. “Everything. From the moment we met up until this…it keeps repeating over and over again.”

“Welcome to my world,” you replied, grasping his shoulders. You massage them gently as you sway along with the music.

The confession from you makes him smile. At least he’s not the only one doing constant circles in his head. He calms a bit, and when a new song plays, he sings to you. Your body immediately relaxes into his, as if every stress you’ve ever had has left you without hesitation.

Chenle loves to sing. He does it all the time, and he only wants to keep getting better. To have someone like you as his partner, someone who supports him endlessly and genuinely loves his voice…it’s unparalleled.

He’s not sure how long the two of you are like this, or how long he’s singing for, but song after song, all he knows is that you’re smiling. You’re looking at him with unmatched adoration in your eyes, pure love. Nobody else has ever looked at him in this way, and he doesn’t want them to.

He wants to stay here with you and watch you love him in ways he’s never been loved before.

He stops. His singing fades out, and he furrows his eyebrows as he finally, finally realizes what’s been happening to him. You tilt your head, able to ask him questions without saying anything. His chest feels like it’s going to burst.

You’re it.

You’re everything, and he’s going to marry you.

He’s going to spend the rest of his life striving to make sure you love him as much as you do right now, if not more.

It seems like you feel it, too. Your face softens and you reach up to trace along his cheekbone. He leans into your touch, chasing the warmth like it’s the last time he’ll ever feel it.

“I…” He takes a deep breath, shaking his head slowly. “I’m so fucking in love with you.”

“I know.” You grin so wide, Chenle almost thinks it’ll split your face in two.

“Good.” He brushes your hair behind your ear. “I hope I’m doing a good job in showing you that every day.”

You pause, hands trailing down from his cheeks to his shoulders. “I have never once doubted that you love me, Lele. Are you sure everything’s okay?”

“I promise you I’ve never felt better,” he replies. “Just checking in with you.”

“You do so much more than you realize. No matter how busy you are, you text me to tell me you love me or that you’re thinking about me. You practice non-stop with the boys but you still make an effort with me when you could easily use that as an excuse. There is not one thing I could ask for that you don’t already do.” You press a quick kiss to his lips. “I’ll never doubt you.”

“Sometimes I worry,” he admits. “You make me…want to be better. In every way possible. In my career, in my life, with you. And if I’m not being better every day, then I don’t deserve you.”

“Chenle.” You give him a pointed look. “When I think back to the first day we met, I remember how…how you acted from the first time you spoke to me. At the time, I really thought I was crazy, but I knew you’d be someone to me. You didn’t even know me, but you were so kind. And now that we’re here like this, you haven’t changed. There’s no getting better. You’re already the best.”

“How do you do that?” He chuckles, kissing your forehead.

“Do what?”

“Know exactly what to say.”

“That’s my special talent,” you tell him.

“We should get back to bed,” Chenle says, sleep weighing on him. “Meeting the boys tomorrow.”

He grabs his phone from the counter, his heart full and warm as he leads you back to his bedroom. This time, as he’s lying with you pressed to his chest, he’s able to fall into his dreamland.

Despite his lack of sleep, Chenle is full of energy the next day. He wakes up and makes you coffee just the way you like before sitting on the edge of the bed by your sleeping form. When he sets the cup on the nightstand, you stir, turning over to face him.

“You’re gonna be late,” you mumble, even though you have no idea what time it is.

Chenle chuckles, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “I’ll see you in a bit, okay? You can stay here if you want. Wanted to tell you I love you before I left.”

“Love you, too,” you say with a tired smile, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Drink your coffee before it gets cold. I’ll grab dinner for us on my way back.”

Walking away from you feels like someone’s trying to rip his heart out of his chest. You’re an extension of him at this point, and after his sudden realization last night, all he wants to do is spend the day curled up with you.

Luckily for him, his day passes by pretty quickly. He got a lot done today, and he was proud of that. You’d be proud of him, too. He’s itching to get home and tell you everything that happened. Staying true to his word, he picks up your favorite takeout.

He’s going to be honest with you about what was going on with him yesterday. It’s the right thing to do—and in a perfect world, you’ll feel the same way he does. He hasn’t felt this nervous since he admitted his feelings for you. Even though that side of him feels worlds away now, he remembers it like it was yesterday.

But the restaurant isn’t the only stop he makes.

He’s shaking by the time he gets back. Is a year really enough time? It is for him, but what if you think he’s insane?

When he arrives, he’s not expecting what you’ve done at all. The main lights are off, but a dim golden glow from the strips along the wall and the candles illuminate the room enough. He sets the bag down on the table, completely forgetting about the food as he searches for you.

“(Y/N)?”

“You’re earlier than I thought you’d be,” you tell him, walking out of his bedroom while still putting in an earring.

His throat dries. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words could ever justify the way you look right now. You put on a dress, one of his favorites, and he’s in jeans and a T-shirt.

You kiss his cheek. “I figured you deserve something nice to come home to.”

“You’re my something nice.” He wraps his arm around your waist. “Should I change?”

“We’re not going anywhere.” You shake your head. “Just relax and enjoy your gorgeous girlfriend.”

“Oh, I can get on board with that.” He allows you to lead him back to the table.

Once he’s taking the food out of the bag, he keeps stealing glances at you. You put in all this effort for him, and he knows how much work it must’ve been to hang up all these lights. The golden glow looks ethereal against your skin.

“Before we eat, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” He clears his throat to stop it from collapsing in on itself, but it doesn’t work.

“What’s up?” You set your elbow on the table and rest your head on your palm. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s perfect, actually.” He takes a deep breath, reaching to grab your free hand. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You bite back a laugh.

“You can’t make fun of me for what I’m about to tell you.” He gives you the most serious look he can muster, and you nod.

“I wouldn’t do that,” you reassure him. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I…I want to love you forever.” He gulps. “And when I think of everything we’ve gone through and been through together, I seriously can’t imagine ever trying to have anyone else fill this spot you hold in my life.”

You perk up a bit, gaze staring into his. God, he loves how interested you are in what he has to say. How you’re listening to him so intently. His thumb rubs over your knuckles as he tries to think of the words he wants to use.

“I want to marry you. Call me crazy if you want, tell me you hate the idea, that’s fine, but I had to tell you. We obviously can’t get married now, or probably any time soon because of my contract, but I want you to know that it’s what I want. It’s what’s going to happen if you want it, too.”

You clear your throat and cover your mouth with your hand, eyes welling. Chenle’s heart aches seeing this reaction, knowing you feel as strongly as he does. He reaches into his pocket and puts a small box on the table in front of you.

“It’s not the real thing. Not yet. But I want you to know how serious I am, because if I was able to marry you, I would’ve done it yesterday.” He opens it, revealing a simple band in it. “Subtle enough where people won’t ask questions, but we’ll know.”

“Chenle, are you being serious right now?” You sniffle. “This is a very cruel prank.”

“The guys and I sat down together today to write a song. I think you’ll love it, so when we record it I’m sneaking you a copy. Anyway, we were there for twenty minutes, and words were just flowing out of me. I wrote about you. About how you make me feel, and I think anyone who knows about us will understand that when they listen to the song.”

He pauses to swallow past the lump in his throat.

“I want you. I want to marry you and spend the rest of my life proving to you why I deserve that. Let me put this ring on you, and this can be the start.”

You quickly wipe your face as you nod. He takes your left hand, grabs the ring out of the box, and slips it on your middle finger.

“One day, this will be real.” Chenle catches another one of your tears. “I love you. There is not one thing in this world that could change that.”

His heart pounds in his chest as he watches your reaction. He wants to touch you and kiss you after pouring his thoughts out to you, but he needs to make sure you’re feeling the same way. The last thing he wants to do is overwhelm you.

His palms are sweaty and he can barely sit still. You groan, giving one last aggressive swipe below your eyes before you launch up from your chair and end up in his lap. You bury your head in his neck, squeezing him tighter than you should. He instinctively wraps his arms around your waist, softly chuckling at your outburst.

“You better not change your mind.” Cupping both of his cheeks, you try your best to look angry. “If you do, I’m marrying you anyway.”

His own vision blurs at the sight of you. You love him as much as he loves you, and you want to be with him forever.

You want to be with him forever.

The emotions rioting inside him surprise even him, and he blinks quickly to try and suppress the tears. It’s no use, because as soon as you notice, you start crying again. He groans and drops his head back on the chair, squeezing you closer to him.

“You’ll be the death of me,” Chenle says.

“Kiss me, you idiot.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His mouth finds yours, both of you falling into each other’s rhythm. Saltiness from your tears lingers on your lips. He weaves his fingers through your hair, but no matter what he does, you’re just not close enough.

Pulling away from you, he rests his forehead on yours. “You should eat, sunshine.”

“You expect me to be able to eat after all of that?” You furrow your eyebrows. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

“You’ll be sad if it gets cold,” he reminds you.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be sad again,” you whisper.

All thoughts escape him. Nothing else exists except for you, wrapped around him like a damn koala bear. He rests his hand on your thigh and lets your words sink deep into him.

Moments like these are hard to explain, he thinks. He’s only like this around you, so lost in his connection with you that he’s got nothing else on his mind. Anything and everything you say to him is tattooed in the darkest ink on his soul, until he’s covered in everything he wants to be for you.

“Promise me you’ll always look at me like that.” You break the silence, running your fingers through his hair and smiling.

“I promise.” He nods, barely realizing how he’s leaning forward.

Your eyes flutter shut as he inches closer. He kisses you softly, almost as if he fears he’ll break you. His fingers splay out across the small of your back and he traces shapes into the soft fabric of your dress. You’re overwhelming. His love for you is, too. So much so, he feels as if he’s going to burst out of his skin. He’s going to wake up and everything will have been a dream, because there’s no way he’d ever done anything in his life to deserve someone like you.

You hum into his mouth, rolling your hips once. His breathing stutters as his first instinct is to lift toward you. At first, he wants to stay like this, you clinging onto him like you’d be lost without him, but when you grind down a second time, he feels a twitch in his pants.

It’s been over a week since the last time he’s been inside you thanks to his schedules. And now you’re on top of him, wearing his favorite dress of yours, and kissing him like you’ll never be able to feel him again after tonight.

He’s tired, but he’s never too tired for you. Brushing your hair away, he leans down to kiss your neck, licking the expanse of your soft skin. Your pulse thunders beneath his tongue, and he has to fight the urge to bite down.

Touching you like this is different when he knows he’ll never lose you. You’re his forever.

His lips press against the sensitive spot below your ear, and the short moan escaping you just about sends him up the wall. When he pulls away to get a good look at you, your eyes are dark, lips already swollen from the way he kissed you.

He tries to catch his breath while he silently asks you if this is what you want. You nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Standing, he lifts you up until your legs are secure around his waist, and he grabs your ass with one hand and the back of your head with the other.

Mouths attached, he doesn’t separate from you until he’s setting you down on his bed. He barely has time to appreciate the candles you lit in here, too, the soft scent of vanilla flooding his senses. You already try to push his T-shirt up, anything to feel his skin on yours. He obliges, pulling it over his head before returning to kissing you like his life depended on it. When your hands find the button on his jeans, he grabs your wrist.

“Patience, baby.” Chenle runs his fingers up and down your thigh. “We have the rest of our lives. Let me take my time with you tonight.”

Just like that, you’re putty in his hands. He smirks at the realization. Sneaking his touch up your leg, the hem of the dress moves to accommodate him. He stops when he feels the lace of your panties.

“Did you dress up for me twice, sunshine?” he hums.

“Always,” you say, shamelessly staring at his lips. “Do you love me, Chenle?”

His whole body vibrated from those words. They made him feel at a frequency he hadn’t quite reached yet, and all he wanted to do was rip that damn dress off.

“More than anything.”

He can’t really say it’s ‘like second nature’ anymore. There’s nothing second about it. This is you. Anything to do with you is first nature, no matter what it is. His world revolves around you, everything he does is based on what you want, and he wouldn’t change that in any way.

“Show me,” you whisper, so intoxicating he almost crumbles to his knees right in front of you.

How embarrassing that all it takes is two words to have him give in to you. He’s straining against his pants now, his cock aching to be free and buried inside you.

“Don’t worry. I will.” He kisses you again, soft and sweet like his hand isn’t so, so close to your dripping, eager core. Heat radiates from you, and all he wants is to be consumed by it.

He drags your panties down your legs, nails gently scratching your skin on the way down. Your chest rises and falls quickly as you try to regain your breath, but he loves the way you’re so desperate for him. The way you want him just as much as he wants you.

He doesn’t want to be patient anymore. Every cell in his body is urging him to connect with yours, but he wants to take care of you. That side of him always wins, otherwise both of you would probably be done already.

His finger dances along your entrance. He inhales sharply as your wetness coats his skin. You move your hips toward him, practically begging him for stimulation. He teasingly nudges your clit, pleasantly surprised by the way your body jolts.

Mouth brushing yours, he takes the second of distraction to slide two fingers inside you. As your lips part to release a moan, he mirrors the action, eyes fluttering shut as he slowly, slowly thrusts his hand.

Your walls squeeze so hard, he curses. He could fuck you a thousand times, and you’d still be as tight as you are right now. His heart goes straight into overdrive, but all the blood in his body is shooting down to his cock. He’s painfully hard, rocking back and forth gently.

He kisses you, lips working against yours in a perfect harmony. Your sounds are his favorite. He loves knowing it’s him making you feel this way, that he has the power to make your knees weak and your pussy throb.

He lets out a moan when he scissors his fingers, trying his best to prepare you. God, you’re so warm and wet and tight, he isn’t sure if he’ll be able to last long tonight. His pace quickens, sounds of your slickness filling the room.

You call out his name, back arching as you grasp desperately at his shoulders. He leans in and kisses your cheek, making sure to press his palm into your clit every time he’s knuckle deep.

“You’re perfect, baby,” he whispers with his lips against your ear, voice rough. “I love you so much. So fucking much.”

You tense, pussy clamping down hard on his fingers as your hips buck. He swears he can see the pleasure running up your spine in the way you arch and shake. Your nails dig into his shoulders, but he’s not in the right mind to care. Your mouth opens, sounds pouring out as you finish. He loves you all the time, but one of his favorite looks on you is when he watches you orgasm—your face so overcome with pleasure he caused…he would never get enough of it.

He keeps moving until he’s sure you’ve come down from your high. When he brings his fingers up to his mouth to suck your juices off, you watch longingly, the dark look in your gaze enough to have his cock twitching in his pants.

You slide off the bed, forcing him to take a couple steps back. He’s not sure what you’re going to do at first. Your struggle to reach your zipper, and as much as he wants to bend you over with the dress still on, he wants to be gentle with you tonight. He doesn’t get to make love to you often, and that’s all he’s going to do tonight.

Instead of watching you attempt to reach it, he turns you around and pulls you to him until your back is against his chest. His hand is splayed out across your stomach, holding you so you feel how hard he is.

“I’m going crazy,” you mutter, dropping your head back. “I need you so bad.”

He moves your hair out of his way, kissing the base of your neck quickly before he unzips you. Moving slowly on purpose, he lets his finger drag along your spine on the way down. You shiver, pushing yourself back into him.

“I’m gonna make love to you.” He finally lets himself bite down on your shoulder as he nudges the straps down. “For the rest of our lives. Nobody but me.”

“Nobody but you,” you respond, allowing the dress to pool at your feet.

He turns you around, hands immediately finding your ass and squeezing it. Within seconds, he has your bra unclasped and across the room. “So beautiful.”

When your hands find his jeans, he doesn’t stop you this time. You push them down his legs, desperate to have him inside you. Once his jeans are off, you palm him through his boxers, and he needs you so badly, that simple touch almost finishes him off. That would’ve been embarrassing.

He takes off the remaining fabric separating you two before leading you over to the bed. You lie in the middle, and he climbs on top of you. He kisses you passionately, tongue already dancing with yours, both of you more than ready. His cock is so hard, he’s only half convinced he won’t cum as soon as he’s in.

He nudges your clit with his leaking tip, moving down to your entrance to apply just enough pressure before pulling away. You whine, desperate for more.

“Chenle, please.”

His head dips down as he continues teasing you, wrapping his lips around your nipple. You whimper, running your fingers through his hair. Having you so desperate for him makes him want to give you everything you’re asking for, but something makes him wait.

“Please,” you cry out, lifting your hips up. “Need you.”

He’s ready to fall apart from you words alone. Pulling away from your chest, he reaches down to line himself up with you. He watches you closely as he pushes his throbbing cock into your quivering pussy. Your eyes roll back as you arch into him.

Your walls swallow him, velvet clamping down on him. He clenches his jaw as he bottoms out and fists the sheets next to your head.

“So perfect,” he whispers, kissing your jawline.

One of his favorite things about you is how unafraid you are to look at him. Pleasure weighs on your eyelids, and you try your best not to close them, but even like this, you never look away.

He’s fully inside you, his cock seated within your fluttering walls. The last thing he wants to do is overwhelm you, so he gently rocks his hips to help you adjust. He kisses you everywhere he can reach.

“You always take me so well,” he praises you, nipping the base of your neck.

He’ll never get over how perfectly he fits between your legs, like this space was made for him.

“Move,” you tell him, smacking his shoulder.

He lets out a soft chuckle, but lowers his mouth to yours as he starts a steady pace. You squeeze him so tight, it’s like your body doesn’t want to let him out of you. He pulls out until his tip is barely inside, and then pushes back in just as slowly. It wreaks havoc on your body, your wetness squelching every time he moves.

He wants you to feel all of him. Feel the entirety of his cock rubbing your walls with every thrust.

Somehow, it’s hotter this way. A thin sheen of sweat covers his skin as he takes his time with you. Sure, he gets sweaty when he fucks you, but nothing compares to the close intimacy of love making—his chest brushing against yours with every thrust, long, sweet moans filling the otherwise quiet bedroom.

“You sing so pretty,” Chenle mutters, tonguing the sensitive spot below your ear. “You like the way I feel?”

Before he can even process what you’re doing, you wrap your legs around his waist and roll until you’re on top of him. He’s flat on his back, eyes flitting along your body like he hasn’t had a real chance to see it yet.

Candle light illuminates your skin, and the sight makes his cock twitch. He runs his hands along your sides, squeezing your hips.

Chenle likes being in control. He likes guiding you in a way that has you both in shambles by the end, and he truly underestimated how beautiful you’d look on top of him. You lift up, teasing him as slow as he was moving with you, but between the sight and the feeling, he feels an all too-familiar tingling sensation at the base of his length.

It’s too soon for him, so he decides to tug you down, holding you there while his eyes close and his head thuds against the mattress. He doesn’t need to say a word to you.

“Chenle.” You stroke a hand down his chest. “It’s okay. You don’t need to hold back for me.”

“Just…need a second.” He gulps.

When he finally catches his breath, he sits up, chest pressing against yours.

“This was supposed to be about you,” he says, moving back slightly to fit his hand between the two of you. “Showing you my love and everything.”

He finds your clit with his thumb, staring at you intently as your wetness makes it easy for him to rub circles. His other hand still firmly grips your waist, which only allows you to squirm instead of bouncing on him like you crave to do.

“I need to move,” you whimper, grinding down. “Please.”

He nods, loosening his grip on you. You brace yourself on his shoulders, finally taking his cock the way you want it. His nails dig into your thigh while he continues his work on your bud, and it only spurs you on. You move faster, no doubt trying to chase your orgasm.

His moans get louder, matching yours. If his hands weren’t so occupied, he’d want to squeeze your ass or tweak your nipples. Anything to bring you higher. He changes the patterns his thumb rubs, and it’s like a jolt of electricity runs through your body.

You curse, dropping your head on his shoulder as you nod. “Don’t stop, Lele.”

With both of you hanging so close to the edge, he waits until you’re sitting back down on his cock to buck his hips up. He doesn’t want to finish first, but he’s so close, all the warning signs of his impending high are getting far too real.

“Gonna cum,” he tells you, releasing your thigh to grab your ass.

Your walls clamp down on him hard, a long, pleasured sound escaping you as you grind down on him. Back arching, your head falls back. Your orgasm hits both you and Chenle like a freight train, and within seconds, everything inside him explodes, and he’s spilling his cum deep inside you while telling you over and over again that he loves you.

You crumple into his chest. He runs his fingers through your hair, whispering praises to you between head kisses.

“I’m gonna lay you down, sunshine,” he says.

You nod, and he turns you so he can put your back on the mattress. He carefully pulls out of you, putting his boxers back on before going into the bathroom to grab you a towel. This is one of his favorite ways to see you. Your eyes are closed, hands on your cheeks. You look like he’s fucked all the energy out of you, and he loves that he has the capability to do that.

He cleans you up, then grabs a clean pair of panties for you and one of his T-shirts.

“I have an idea,” he says.

“What is it?” You wrap your arms around him.

“You pick whatever movie you want, and I’ll go warm up your dinner?” He raises his eyebrows at you.

You fake a gasp. “Are you saying you’re going to feed me in bed?”

“After all of that, I’d agree to just about anything you want.” He chuckles when you shove his shoulder. Grabbing your hand, he twirls the band on your finger. “Wait here for me?”

When he walks out of the room, he stops at the doorway to watch you excitedly lunge for the remote. It doesn’t take long for him to warm up the food, turn off the lights, and blow out the candles in the kitchen.

The rest of the night is spent with the two of you sitting against the headboard, laughing along to your favorite movie while eating your favorite takeout. So many thoughts have come and gone from Chenle’s brain in the past couple days alone, but he’s more than happy he gets to sit here with you every night for the rest of his life.

He’s lost in your laugh and the way you smile at him and how you make his heart race with the simplest things. None of the other members knew about the ring he bought you, but he’ll tell them soon.

After the food is gone, Chenle cleans it up. There’s still half a movie left, so when he gets back, he pulls the comforter back so you can cuddle up to him for the remainder. Even though the candles have long since been put out, vanilla still clouds the air.

“Love you,” Chenle whispers, kissing your temple.

“Love you, too.” You sigh in content, resting your head on his chest.

He knows that means you’re only seconds from sleep, and he rubs your arm soothingly. The movie continues to play, but neither of you are paying attention anymore—you’re asleep, and Chenle’s thinking about what kind of wedding dress you’ll wear.

#nct dream #nct imagines #chenle #nct dream smut #nct #nct scenarios #chenle imagine #chenle x reader #chenle smut #chenle fluff #nct dream fluff #nct x reader #nct dream imagines

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jewish-sideblog · 6 months

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hey, so im Palestinian and a strong activist for my people's liberation. i wanted to ask for some info/advice on avoiding antisemitism in my activism for Palestine. im on anon bc i don't want to be called a racefaker for caring about Jewish ppl. i know antisemitism is on the rise right now (and generally over the past few years) and i want to make sure i'm not unintentionally contributing to it.

Hey there! I wanted to start by genuinely thanking you for asking this question. Partially because I don't actually get any well-intentioned or helpful questions in my inbox anymore, but also because I understand the amount of bravery it takes to reach out with a question like that at a time like this.

Next, I want to apologize to all my followers who hate long posts. Judaism is a very complicated ethnoreligious group, antisemitism is a very complicated form of bigotry, and the Israeli/Palestinian conflict is arguably the most complicated international issue that has ever existed. I'm going to try to go through everything as succinctly as possible below the cut-- I am also going to ask other Jews to contribute to and make edits to this list as needed.

And finally-- I'm writing this as though I were speaking to someone with very little knowledge of the subject. I understand that as a Palestinian, you probably know a lot about what's going on here. But I want to make sure that I'm covering bases for anybody else who might need to use this post. So if you're like, Yeah, Obviously I Knew That. Please remember that a fuckton of people on tumblr are engaging in Israeli criticism without obviously knowing that.

There are two primary forms of antisemitism in anti-Zionist spaces-- antisemitic conspiracy theory, and criticism of Israel that no other country receives. The first kind is the easiest kind to pick out, and it makes a nice bulleted list, so we'll start there.

Dual Loyalty. A global stereotype that has skyrocketed since the establishment of Israel, but it's been around for a lot longer than that. Simply put, it's the idea that Jews are more loyal to Israel (or some global secret kabal) than we are to the countries we currently reside in. With I/P, it manifests as the idea that All Jews are directly responsible for Israel or the idea that All Jews secretly support Israel. If you see a Jew who isn't directly engaging in I/P topics, don't ask them what their stance is. Plenty of us have never even been to Israel, and it's fucked up to assume that we're all experts in geopolitics.

The Holocaust was a Fabrication or a Lesson. The idea that Jews made up the Shoah has been around since the Shoah was still happening, and it's always been ridiculous. Today, you'll see three primary lines about this. Either it's that Jews made up the Shoah as an excuse to establish Israel, that the Jews deserved the Shoah because of what's happening in Israel today, or that the Jews "should have learned their lesson from the Holocaust" because now Jews are "the new Nazis". Frankly, I wish goyim would stop treating the deaths of millions of Jews like a TV show. Palestinian deaths are genuinely horrible, but this isn't some kind of "narrative parallel" to the Shoah.

The Kazars Theory, or All Jews are White. This is the DNA test nonsense. The idea is that Israel (or Jews at large) are only pretending to be indigenous to the Levant and that secretly Jews as a whole are actually indigenous to Eastern Europe. It's a lie, started by a German professor of Russian history in the early 1800s. Meanwhile, the vast majority of genetic, historical, and archaeological evidence points to Jewish origins in the Israeli/Palestinian region. There have been literal hundreds of genetic studies on this. Most of them suggest that Jews, even "white" Ashkenazim, are nearly genetically identical to Palestinians.

World Domination. The idea that Jews control the world began with the Protocols of the Elders of Zion in 1903. If you're encountering criticism of Israel that suggests that world governments, particularly European or American ones, are being controlled by Jews, you've got yourself antisemitism. White supremacists like to use the term "Zionist Occupied Government" or "ZOG" as shorthand for this conspiracy. The next two points are born out of this same ideology.

Controlling the Media. The idea that Jews are in charge of Hollywood and/or major news organizations around the world. Regarding I/P, I've seen a bunch of people say something like "Western media outlets won't cover this! (Because you know who controls them!)" only to look online and see... Western media outlets covering it. See also: "My source is tiktok! I don't trust the news!" While it's obviously a fair criticism to say that some Western news outlets certainly have a pro-Israel and anti-Palestinian bias, it's certainly not every single one of them. Reuters and the AP are once again my go-to's here.

Controlling the Financial World. I haven't actually seen this come up regarding I/P, but considering how things have been going, it's only a matter of time. We don't control the banks. We don't control the stock market. We're not in charge of American aid being sent to Israel. HaShem knows that if we controlled all the money, I'd certainly be living larger than I am now...

Those Bloodthirsty Jews. This one arguably started with Blood Libel in the 1100s, when Christians started accusing us of stealing and eating their babies. Straight up, I have met Christians who still believe this in 2023. You see this a lot with I/P-- the Al Ahli Hospital is the biggest example. More than a month later, most reliable intelligence organizations agree that a misfired Hamas rocket landed in a parking lot, killing about 100 people. But a ton of people are still saying that Those Bloodthirsty Jews intentionally bombed the hospital dead on, killing 470 people. I want to be clear-- Israel is killing a lot of civilians. But if you see a bandwagon of people focusing on the one group of deaths that Israel probably actually didn't cause? Consider why.

Causing wars, revolutions, and calamities. Hamas has straight-up got this one in their founding charter. No, the Jews are not responsible for any major global conflicts, revolutions, or counter-revolutions that don't directly involve Israel. We didn't do WWII. We didn't do the October Revolution. See above-- we're not secretly plotting massacres on Shabbat. A lot of people are saying that Netanyahu and Likud let Hamas in to justify the invasion of Gaza... I'd be shocked if that was the case. All evidence points to a classic intelligence failure. We're not orchestrating bloodbaths.

Section 2: Criticisms only levelled at Israel

It's important to recognise that Israeli civilians are no more collectively responsible for the actions of the Likud coalition than Palestinians are collectively responsible for the actions of Hamas. No Palestinian deserves to be stripped of their rights to self-determination in their ancestral lands because of the October 7th attack. Likewise, no Chinese person deserves to be displaced from China because of the CCP's human rights violations in Tibet, Uyghur and Hong Kong. No Russian person deserves to be ethnically cleansed from Russia because of the Kremlin's invasion of Ukraine. But plenty of people do believe that Jews should be stripped of their rights to self-determination in historically Jewish indigenous lands because of the actions of the Israeli government.

After October 7th, I've seen people argue that Israeli babies deserved to be kidnapped because of their national origin. I've seen people argue that Israeli women deserved to be sexually abused because of their nation of origin. I've seen people argue that the seven million Jews living in their ancestral homeland deserve death or displacement because of their nation of origin. Justifying or allowing brutal harm against people because of their national origin is hateful.

I want to make this part very clear-- I do not have an issue with calling out Israeli war crimes or crimes against humanity. But I do have an issue with treating Jewish civilians differently than civilians of other nations responsible for similar horrors. Amplifying bias against a particular group because of that group's nation of origin is called bigotry. Taking a stand against Israeli settlements in the West Bank is anti-Zionism. Collectivizing the label of "white colonialism", and forcing that label upon refugees forced to move to Israel, or Mizrahim with uninterrupted 8,000-year histories in Israel, is antisemitism.

Part 3: Moving Forward

So where do we go from here? If advocating for the destruction of Israel is advocating for the elimination of Jewish self-determination in our ancestral lands, but advocating in favour of the Israeli government is advocating for the elimination of Palestinian self-determination in your ancestral lands, then we must find some middle ground. A solution that allows seven million Jews and five-and-a-half-million Arabs to share the same holy land, without fear of persecution, displacement, or death. For me, this means a few things.

First of all, the recognition that most Israelis disagree with Netanyahu's approach to Palestine, and most Palestinians disagree with Hamas's approach to Israel. And that brings up a question-- why are Likud and Hamas in charge of Israel and Gaza respectively if most people disagree with them? Without getting into the complicated intricacies of the Knesset and the PNA on an already very long post (and without explaining your own government to you), the simple answer is international funds.

Israeli crimes against Palestinians are bankrolled by American Evangelical Christians, who believe that when Palestine is gone, all the Jews will go to Israel, and Jesus will come back to kill the world's infidels. They actually fucking believe that. Meanwhile, Hamas is bankrolled by Iran, which believes that the more often Jews and Sunni Muslims kill each other, the easier it will be for Iranian Shiite Jihad to take over the world. They actually fucking believe that.

So what steps can we take during our advocacy? Not for the destruction of Israel nor the destruction of Palestine, but for America and Iran to get their noses out of our damn business. I genuinely believe that a defunded Likud and a defunded Hamas will allow Israelis and Palestinians to work together for a peaceful two-state or joint-rule solution. Something that will keep my Palestinian friends from feeling like they can't safely travel from Jaffa to Tel Aviv. Something that will allow my Jewish family to visit and pray at the Cenotaphs of Isaac and Rebecca and the Temple Mount. Something that will let Israeli children from Kibbutz Nirim and Palestinian children from Khan Yunis play on the same playgrounds together, instead of sheltering from missile fire.

Frankly, we nearly had that when the Supreme Muslim Council and the Assembly of Representatives began collaborating against the British Mandate instead of against each other. Clearly, it's possible, we just need to stop being pitted against each other by foreign powers.

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becca-e-barnes · 5 months

Text

As a romantic, sentimental shit, I decided to add a little spin off to the Moving In series.

While I'm not a huge fan of Christmas, Christmas Eve always felt really special to me. Christmas Eve traditions in our family have changed a lot over the years but I'm really excited to start my own! I've been trying to imagine what my perfect Christmas Eve would be like next year and it'd be pretty damn close to this.

If you celebrate it, have a lovely Christmas tomorrow! If you don't, I hope you have a wonderful day!

There's no way to keep the cat off the twinkling fairy lights on the tree. You've tried every trick the internet could offer but nothing stops her; except her own sleepiness.

After a long afternoon fighting the lights (and losing), she's curled up in the armchair, peacefully sleeping.

The tree is safe.

For now.

"Your fluffy murderer is asleep." Bucky hums contentedly, pulling you impossibly closer to him on the sofa.

"Good." It's about time. Even the TV playing Olaf's Frozen Adventure doesn't seem to be disturbing her and she loves that movie.

You're surprised the heat hasn't knocked Bucky out yet. Between your body heat, the matching pyjamas you're both wearing and the glowing embers of the fire, you're surprised he's not asleep too.

"What's Santa bringing tomorrow?" Bucky teases, running his hand from your hip to your waist, slipping his hand under you top and letting it rest there.

"I don't know! Hopefully the stand mixer I asked for... Maybe some baking supplies... Some cat treats maybe." You smile at the thought and feel Bucky laughing against your back.

"That cat of yours has not made it onto the Nice List, sweetheart. No chance. Santa won't be visiting her." His lips are curled into a smile as they drift from your collar, up the back of your neck.

"She's been good the rest of the year. She's only been naughty since I put the tree up." You feel like you have to protest on her behalf, even though you know Santa will be bringing her plenty of cat treats.

"So there's hope for you too then if that's how Santa works. If he excuses short bursts of naughtiness, you might still make it." His hand trails its way back to your hip, slipping just under the waistband of your pyjama shorts.

"I've been good this year and you know it!" You tease, pressing your ass back against him.

"Oh see no, this is naughty." Bucky corrects you, kissing your neck with a little more pressure.

"I don't think so. You seem to like it so this is me being nice." You wiggle your ass against the front of his pyjamas, enjoying the evidence of his interest.

"Don't argue sweetheart, that'll put you firmly on the Naughty List." He knows you hate reasoning like that.

"Well, if you've been so good this year, what's Santa bringing you?"

There's a short pause but the kissing over your neck doesn't stop.

"I don't know... I don't need anything." He didn't ask you for anything for that same reason. "I have everything I need here."

"That's gross. Grow up." You know he can't see the way that made you smile so you're free to affectionately bully him for saying it.

"You're so right." He laughs, somehow shuffling even closer to you.

"I'm sure if I got down on my hands and knees in front of the tree and looked right in at the back, I could find a gift with your name on it." You go back to rubbing your ass against his crotch, tempting him to escalate.

"Sweetheart, that view alone would be enough of a gift." He's got a special way of making you feel like a temptation, without ever objectifying you. God, he's wonderful. "But I want to see that pretty face. I want to lay you down under your tree and unwrap my gift properly."

"Unwrapping your gift early will put you on the Naughty List!" You try to feign disgust at the very suggestion but really, that's all you want.

"Then I'll be the happiest man on the damn Naughty List this year." He laughs, scooping you up and laying you down on the plush carpet.

"You're more of a terror than the cat." You giggle before his lips are pressed to yours, kissing you with an intensity you really quite enjoy. His tongue slips past your lips, rubbing against your own and it's almost dizzying to start so intensely.

Your fingertips dig into his broad, muscular back and shoulders. It's easy to let need cloud your brain and he doesn't seem to mind as he sheds his pyjama top.

"We aren't matching anymore." You smile, reaching for the bottom of your own top, pulling it off in one swift motion.

"Excuse me. You're unwrapping my present for me." Bucky pretends to be horrified but your decision has its perks. He's now got full access to your breasts and it's like Christmas came early for him.

He wastes no time, sucking and kissing and licking your breasts. His tongue flicks over your stiff nipples, enjoying the way the sensation makes you squeal and writhe under his mouth.

"Bucky... Please." You whine after a while, desperate for him to move on.

"Someone's needy." Bucky smiles, raising an eyebrow before he reaches down to remove the bottom half of your pyjama set.

Fuck, he's not wrong. His fingertips trail against your sex, checking to see whether you're as aroused as you sound and he's almost surprised to find you are.

"God, you're so wet. I'm going to make this pretty little pussy gush for me." He slips a thick finger into you, followed by a second and he's thrilled to realise you'll be able to take him already. He can take the edge off for you now and then take his sweet time licking his own load out of your fluttering cunt once he's given you what you need.

"Please." You whimper, noticing he's offered you nothing awfully useful. He hasn't curled his fingers to stroke your walls, he hasn't moved at all actually.

"I wanted to take my time with you." Bucky begins, removing his fingers and taking off his pyjama bottoms. "But that's not what you want right now, is it?"

You shake your head, giving in to your own desperation freely, knowing he'd want you to be honest.

"That's okay, sweetheart. Let's take good care of you." The residual heat of the fire warms your bare skin as Bucky arranges your thighs, settling himself between your legs.

"Good girl." Bucky hums, dragging his thick, bare cock through the evidence of your arousal, coating himself in the slick mess between your legs. "So pretty for me."

He watches the way your body accommodates him so willingly and your whines remind him not to keep you waiting.

His thick, leaking tip presses to your entrance and the feeling of him sliding into you is breathtaking. It always is.

Both of you stop breathing for a few short seconds until he's slid the whole way home, buried as deep inside you as your bodies will allow.

"Hey, look at me." Bucky whispers, holding the side of your face gently with one hand, making you realise you'd closed your eyes.

"You're so beautiful, you know that?" He begins to pull back slowly before pressing back in, setting a slow rhythm.

If feels wrong not to tell him the same. It's wrong not to tell him how wonderful you think he is. It's not fair to let the moment pass without mentioning that you love getting to do this with him and be vulnerable but still feel safe. You love having him in your space and spending time together and getting to enjoy these tender, intimate moments at the most random of times. But those aren't thoughts for now. Those are thoughts for when you're both fully satisfied and cuddling together, breathless and tired and entirely aglow on this same carpet later this evening.

That feels right.

"You are the most incredible man I've ever met." You reply instead, tugging gently on his soft, dark hair to pull him into a kiss.

You hear him groan against your lips, offering the same intensity as before. He speeds up his thrusts to match his mouth, sliding in and out of you with purpose and a delightful need to spill his release into you as he's coaxing yours from you.

"Play with yourself." His instruction is clear and driven by his own need. He needs to feel you cum before he can allow himself to do the same and his orgasm really seems to have snuck up on him.

Your hand slips between your bodies with a practiced ease, finding the little bundle of nerves between your legs, rubbing it in tight circles.

"Good girl. Fuck, I wish you knew how you feel. So wet and soft and warm." He hasn't taken his eyes off your face and that only lets you see how pleasure is evident all over his. He's almost overwhelmed and it's so lovely to watch.

"Fuck, I'm so close." You whine, begging him not to change a single thing. Not his pace, not his angle, nothing. This is perfect.

"Cum for me, sweetheart. Go ahead, I'm right behind you. I've got you."

The release is all consuming for a good few seconds, your body fluttering and twitching, milking Bucky's from him and he so willingly gives it to you. He groans gentle praises as he works both of you through your highs, taking every ounce of pleasure he can get from you while giving you as much as possible.

When your peak and his have both subsided, he slips out of you, giving himself a second to catch his breath.

"If you weren't on the Naughty List before, you definitely are now." You giggle, kissing his forehead repeatedly.

"I'm just getting started." He smiles, kissing your lips before moving down your body to kiss between your thighs.

#Bucky Barnes x reader smut #Bucky Barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #becca writes spice #Olaf's Frozen Adventure is a top tier Christmas movie and I will hear NO SLANDER #We weren't allowed to watch Christmas movies growing up #so I might watch the Grinch for the first time tonight #I sat for hours last night and did a lovely set of Christmas nails #with little handpainted intricate snowflakes #and I'll have to take the nails off on Wednesday morning to go work in the coffee shop :(#I did ask Santa for a stand mixer so cross your fingers for me

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delulu-with-wandanat · 9 months

Text

International Affair

Welcome to my shameless self-insert series🤭 Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Last

Reader Description: Masculine style, They/He, AFAB, International Student, 20 Years Old. Sometimes will be describe using masculine terms (man, boy, handsome, etc)

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x InternationalStudent!Reader

Warnings: Specified age gap (Wanda is 34).

Summary: For their summer break, Y/n decided to spend it in a little town called Westview. It was there when they met Wanda Maximoff. A woman in her 30s with two kids, who seems to be attracted to the college student despite being married.

New York University's tuition was fucking ass. It really is, at a whopping $64,000 tuition fee per year. And that's only the tuition fee, the total estimate of studying in NYU plus living cost was probably over $90,000. Exactly it's fucking insane. Despite receiving a sponsorship from their parent's good friend and also financial aid from NYU, he still needed to figure out how to pay it back.

Sometimes they feel like smacking their head for choosing to study in a city where it's known for its back bank breaking living cost. Can you blame him though? Those tall buildings, shining lights, bustling nightlife, sounds of gunshots, and a huge opportunity for a creative person such as themselves, along with a dash of capitalism. Y/n couldn't help but be fascinated. That American dream that he had been chasing since he saw the Devil Wears Prada.

It was now summer vacation. Instead of going home for the summer, Y/n decided to join this Homeshare Summer program. Basically an elderly person provides home for students to share during the summer. The benefits are plenty, but most notably, cheaper housing rent. His roommates also joined this program, together they sublease their apartment. Adding extra funds to their breaking bank account.

In return, the students must help their elderly host with basic domestic needs. Mostly light household tasks; preparing and sharing meals, tidying up, chores, walking a pet, etc.

Y/n ended up matching with someone in a small town called Westview somewhere in New Jersey. As much as he loves New York, he wanted to spend his summer somewhere else in America.

He matched with a lovely widow named Melina Vostokoff. He learned that she has 2 daughters, both whom are adults with their own respective career. She needed a companion, understandably so, and Y/n was more than happy to assist her in anyway she might need.

"Y/n." Melina called.

"Yes, Mrs. Vostokoff?" Y/n looked up from their laptop, they were sitting on the dinner table editing some footage.

"Oh dear, please, I told you to call me Melina."

"Sorry, Melina. Force of habit." He said with a smile. "What's up?"

"Would you please send all this batches of cookies around the neighborhood? I already have a list of houses on where you can drop them." Melina is known for sharing batches of cookies for free around the neighborhood. Why? Out of kindness.

And also the fact that she loves baking, but ended up not being able to finish it all. So she shares them around the neighborhood.

"Sure, Melina! I'll do that right away."

So he sets of to drop off delicious dessert for Westview citizens. Melina had told them that this was a good chance to ask around for a summer job as well. Which is what he had initially planned to do anyway. Finally they reached the last house, Maximoff Household. They weren't so lucky with the other neighbors, but last one's a charm right? He rang the doorbell.

A person then opens the door. "Hello, I was just-" Holyfucking shit. This woman was absolutely gorgeous.

"May I help you?" She ask, god her voice is sexy.

"Uhhh..." Snap out of it! "Sorry! I'm Y/n, I'm the student staying over the summer at Mrs. Vostokoff. She told me to drop off her Bi-Weekly batches of cookies."

Wanda wasn't stupid, she noticed their nervousness and found it adorable. "Lovely to meet you, Y/n. I'm Wanda, Wanda Maximoff." She offered her hand.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Maximoff." He shook her hand.

"Do you go to Westview University?" She was rather intrigued by the younger one.

"No, ma'am. I actually go to NYU, I'm studying film production."

Wanda raised an eyebrow and smiled. "How impressive. Though I must ask, why choose to spend your summer here?"

Damn... her smile.

"Mainly a much cheaper living cost, other than that I figured It'll be good for me to explore other parts of America. New Jersey is not far so it's a good place to start."

"Ah, an International student I see. Is it one of those Homeshare programs?"

"It is!" The student beamed.

What a charming smile he has, Wanda thought to herself. "Say, how old are you, Y/n." She ask while leaning against the door frame, her tone was... rather flirty.

"Um... I'll be turning 21 this year." Wanda hummed at the answer. For what reason Y/n doesn't know either. "Here are your cookies, ma'am." Well shit, he was getting nervous again. Obviously, Wanda staring at him with a look he can't quite pin.

"Oh! Thank you, dear. My sons absolutely love Melina's cookies." She took the container from them.

"Well that's no surprise, I could live off from those cookies alone." They said while laughing lightly. "So I take it you've lived here for a while?"

"Yes, I've lived here for years with my twin boys and husband." Damn it, they thought. "Anything you would like to know?"

"Yes actually! I've been looking for a summer job, but I haven’t had any luck."

"Well, lucky for you, a friend of mine who owns the Cafe in town is looking for a new Barista. She just recently opened the position."

"That's great news! Thank you so much for letting me know, Mrs. Maximoff." They said with a smile, Wanda had another idea in mind.

"However, I think they're only offering part-time. If you're looking for some extra work, I may need a few... help around the house. Would you be interested?" She asked with a devilish smile.

Y/n, being too excited at the possibility of finally landing a job, failed to notice the flirty undertone in Wanda's sentence. "Absolutely!"

"Splendid! Come over to my house tomorrow and we'll discuss the details."

"I will see you tomorrow, Mrs. Maximoff. Thank you again!" The young man said with a bright smile, he started walking backwards onto the sidewalk.

"See you tomorrow, Y/n." Once they turned their backs on her, Wanda bit her lip. She had multiple things in mind for Y/n to help her with.

I did a quick research on the law of international students working in the US. I didn't get into detail but it basically said yes but there are restrictions. So ignore the actual laws, and y'know just - whatever man it's a fanfic :') When I saw the estimated cost of studying in NYU i almost cried-

Also I hope you guys don’t mind I go with a more masculine reader for this one (i really want to be called a good boy by Wanda)

I hope the reader description doesn’t confuse you guys, if it does. Its ok, i self inserted myself and im very confused abt my gender-

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x internationalstudent!reader #wanda maximommy #scarlet witch #wanda maximilf #wanda x gn!reader #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda x male reader #mommy wanda #wanda x student!reader #wanda maximoff fanfic #International Affair

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harmonicakai · 15 days

Text

Was It Something I Said?

Part 5 of the "Anyone Else But You" series

Pairing: Huening Kai x Reader

Summary: It gets harder and harder for you and Kai to pretend like there isn't something going on between the two of you.

Tropes: enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, fluff, angst, stylist!reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex (mdni!!!!), reader is insecure, miscommunication, alcohol, injuries

A/N: ahhh this series is almost over!!! i'm gonna miss it so much, but there's still plenty to come :-)

FIC INSPIRED PLAYLIST <3

“Did I fuck it up again? Are we destined to be friends? I wanna give you more than that” —Be Around Me, Will Joseph Cook

Kai and the boys have been in Japan for two days now, but with the amount of times that he has you on the phone, it feels like he never even left. Even if he refuses to talk about what happened at the album party, things are going pretty well between you and him.

You’re about to head out the door when your phone rings. You don’t even need to check the caller ID.

“Y/N, you didn’t call! The show’s about to start and you didn’t call!” Kai’s voice rings out of your phone’s speaker. While you can tell he’s mostly joking, he’s also a little worked up.

“Kai, we just talked, like, two hours ago. You know I have that date tonight.” Oh, he knows.

“Yeah, but I like when you call right before I’m about to go on stage. You’re my good luck charm.”

“You’re just being superstitious.”

“I wish you could see me pouting right now.” His sad puppy dog visuals pop into your head.

“Ugh, fine,” you relent. “You’re going to do amazing, Hyuka. Fighting!”

“That’s my girl!” he laughs, immediately ready to give his all on the stage. “I miss you so much.”

His affection catches you off guard and you go quiet.

“Hello?” he asks. “Y/N, are you there?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m still here. Call me back so I can know how it went, okay?”

“You know I will,” he assures you. There’s obvious disappointment in his voice.

“Hueningie, it’s time to go!” you hear Taehyun call in the background.

“I have to go. Bye. Have fun on your date!”

“Bye,” you say. He ends the call and you feel an ache in your stomach. You miss him too, so why couldn’t you have just said it back?

When you finally get out the front doors of your building, Seongjin’s already waiting for you, flowers in hand. You note his outfit, something similar to what you have pinned on your “boyfriend manifestation” moodboard.

“Hey,” he says, holding the bouquet out to you. “These are for you.”

“They’re lovely,” you smile, bringing them to your nose to sniff them. You love the smell of roses. “I don’t think anybody’s ever gotten me flowers before.”

“Well, there’s more where that came from.” Seongjin’s hand finds its way into yours. He’s bold and romantic, even dressing exactly how you’d like him to. He’s checking off all of your boxes, and yet something feels off.

As the two of you walk towards the city’s center, you actually have no clue what he’s planned for tonight until he stops outside of a restaurant that you’ve had on your bucket list for years now.

“You’re joking!” you say in disbelief. “You have to get a reservation months in advance to eat here, and even then it’s impossible.”

“I called in a few favors,” he grins, holding the door open for you. You blush, wondering what you’ve done to deserve even a fraction of the effort he’s gone through.

The dinner’s going okay. There’s just something about the way that Seongjin’s meticulously planned everything, even his responses to your small talk, that makes you suspicious. He feels too perfect, almost unreal.

You find yourself focusing more on the delicious food than on any of what he’s been saying.

“You know,” he starts, “I only went to that album party because I knew you’d be there.”

The hint of Seongjin speaking in a less rehearsed way grabs your attention. You look up to see him grinning.

“No, you didn’t,” you laugh, dismissing him. “You probably didn’t even know who I was before Yeonjun introduced us.”

“Of course I did. I’ve thought you were cute for a while now. The way you’re always running around with your arms full of clothes. I can’t wait to debut so you can dress me up.”

You can’t believe that anybody had even noticed you around the building, let alone taken a romantic interest. If only somebody else felt that way.

“Well, does that mean you’re not a big fan of TXT?” you ask, sipping your wine. You’re mostly joking, but also curious what his honest opinion of the group is.

“I mean, obviously, I think my uncle makes great songs for them. But besides Yeonjun, I don’t think they’re the kind of guys I’d really hang out with, you know?”

Your face heats up at his answer and your energy shifts. “No, I don’t know. Care to explain?”

“The other guys just seem so dorky. Not to mention half of them were wasted at a work event. Like that Huening kid whose outburst interrupted our conversation. What was that about anyway?”

“It’s none of your business,” you scoff, setting your silverware down. “And he’s not a kid. He’s almost twenty-two.”

“Look, Y/N, I know you’re close with them. I didn’t mean to make you upset. We don’t have to talk about this anymore.”

“You’re right, we don’t,” you say, standing up and gathering your things. “Thank you for dinner. I’ll see you around, I guess.”

On your way home, you start to wonder if you’ve made a mistake blowing off someone so well connected, but the way he talked about your friends makes your blood boil.

Then again, things had been going just fine before then. Maybe you should’ve just smiled and nodded like you usually do. You’re not sure when you’ll ever get asked on another date again, let alone one that was planned so well.

Suddenly, your phone rings and for some reason, you answer. “What do you want now, Kai?!” you snap into the speaker.

“Whoa,” an unexpected voice replies, dragging out the word. “Actually, it’s Yeonjun.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry,” you groan, embarrassed at your attitude. “Hi, Jun.”

“So, I’m guessing your date didn’t go very well?”

“I think I’m going to get fired,” you huff, finally reaching your building again.

“That bad, huh? Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t know. He’s handsome and thoughtful and everything I could ask for really, but there wasn’t any sort of spark. Plus he called everyone in the group except you dorky, and that’s when I just got up, thanked him, and left.”

“Everyone else is dorky, Y/N. You really couldn’t wait until the end of dinner because of that?”

“Fine, it’s stupid when I say it out loud. But the damage is already done,” you sigh, digging through your purse for your keys.

“I’m sure he’d reconsider if you apologize,” he reasons with you. You’re not sure that you actually have anything to be sorry about.

“I shouldn’t have to! He was making fun of Kai!” That’s it, you realize. That’s the reason you’re so upset. Of course this is somehow about him.

“Ah, I see now,” Yeonjun says, dropping the issue. “Well, hopefully you won’t run into him at work much.”

“Hopefully,” you agree. “How was the show?”

“It was amazing,” he muses. “I really played off the crowd’s energy, and they loved my solo stage.”

“That’s awesome, Jun,” you smile back. Ever since you and Kai have grown closer, it’s felt like Yeonjun has taken a backseat. “Anything interesting happen?”

“Soobin tried to do the Water challenge,” he laughs. “We all ran to cover him up, though. Beomgyu played the guitar, and MOA kept mentioning how Taehyun looked like Ash Ketchum.”

“Maybe you guys need to do a Pokémon concept,” you think out loud. You don’t fail to notice that Yeonjun has conveniently left out Kai from his recap, as if he’s testing to see whether you’ll bring him up first.

“Would I get to be a fire type trainer?” Yeonjun asks. So, he really isn’t going to mention how Kai did tonight. You bite your lip, resisting the urge to ask about him.

“Yes, of course. I think Soobin would be water, Beomgyu grass, and Taehyun psychic. Actually, wait. Maybe Beomgyu would have fairy types.”

“And Kai?” Yeonjun finally relents. You breathe out in relief at the mention of him.

“He’d be electric,” you decide. “Or normal. Whichever ones are the cutest, really.”

“You wanna know how the concert went for him, don’t you?” he asks.

“No, it’s okay, Jun,” you brush him off. “We can talk about whatever you want.”

“Y/N. It’s cool. I’ve just been messing with you.” You can practically hear him smirking through the phone.

“Oh,” you twiddle your thumbs. “Well, yes, then tell me how he did.”

Yeonjun sucks in a breath. “First off, I don’t want you to get worried.”

“Okay? Why would I be worried?”

Yeonjun hesitates before answering you. “He’s at the hospital right now.” Your stomach drops.

“What?! Is that what you were hiding from me?”

“I knew it would make you upset, Y/N. It’s not a big deal. It’s probably just a sprain, alright?”

“But he’s hurt,” you sigh. “Is that the reason you called me and not him?”

“Can’t I just want to hear my dear friend’s voice and ask how her date went?”

“Mhmm, sure.” You side eye him through the phone, plopping down onto your bed. You’re too tired to change out of your date clothes.

“Okay, fine,” he continues. “Kai did ask me to call you while the doctor checks him out. He knew it would probably be all over social media and didn’t want you to worry.”

“It’s probably my fault he injured himself,” you mutter, kicking off your shoes. “I hope it’s not too bad.”

“Y/N, he’s fine,” Yeonjun assures you. “And how could it possibly be your fault? We aren’t even in the same country right now. The stage was probably just wet because of the rain from earlier.”

“I think I made him upset right before you guys went on stage. He said he missed me and I didn’t say it back, but I think he wanted me to.”

“Hmm, I guess he did seem a little down now that you mention it.”

“Well, tell him I said sorry.” Knowing that he was noticeably off tonight because of you makes you feel horrible. If you had just said it back, he probably could’ve focused on the show better.

“I mean, if you want to wait and tell him yourself, he’ll probably be back any second now.”

“I don’t really feel like talking anymore. Night, Jun. I’ll see you later.” Before Yeonjun can say bye, you’ve already hung up. You’ve never been more confused over your emotions than tonight.

Throwing a pillow over your head, you scream into it. Your love life is in shambles and all you can think about is Huening Kai’s stupid, possibly-sprained ankle.

—————-

When Kai’s plane lands, you’re the first person he wants to see. Before he even left, he made sure that you had a key to the apartment, something Yeonjun was always too lazy to do.

You haven’t brought up the disaster of a date you went on while he was away, and to your relief, he hasn’t asked about it either. It’s almost as if he doesn’t care that it happened.

Getting him to agree to watch the new Mean Girls remake for your weekly movie night was much easier than you expected. You had even prepared a whole speech for why he should relent even though it was supposed to be his choice tonight.

“It’s a musical,” you reasoned. “You’ll like it!”

You were very, very wrong. The movie was horrible, but at least that meant that the two of you could hate-watch it together.

“Those lyrics…” he starts, rubbing his temples as the closing credits played.

“And the costumes!” They were not going to age well.

“That was really bad,” he laughs. “That’s the last time I’m letting you pick when it’s my turn.”

“I have a feeling I’ll still be able to charm you in the future,” you say, batting your eyelashes.

“That is so not fair.” He crosses his arms. “Why are you so cute?”

“It’s my superpower,” you say, grinning. A few months ago, you would’ve never said something like that, but Kai makes you feel so much better about yourself.

The way you’re looking at him makes him blush, and he glances away hoping you haven’t noticed. His gaze focuses on the clock on the wall.

“Oh, Y/N, it’s past two.” Kai says. Time always seems to disappear when you’re together. “Do you want me to walk you home?”

Thunder booms outside the window and you can hear raindrops hitting the roof.

“That might be a bad idea. I can just call a car,” you say, grabbing your phone. He stops you.

“Just stay here,” he offers. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“You can’t sleep on the couch,” you disagree. “Yeonjun will think we’re mad at each other.”

“Well, if we sleep in here together, he’ll probably start planning our wedding.”

“I guess we’re losers in this game, huh?” you say, immediately cringing at the pun. The two of you exchange glances before cracking up.

Kai always takes longer to stop laughing than you. “Okay, how about this. You take the bed and I’ll sleep on the floor,” he says, still giddy.

“But it’s your bed! I can sleep on the floor.”

“I am not letting you sleep on the floor. You’re my guest.”

“This is stupid, Kai. Yeonjun doesn’t know the difference whether one of us sleeps on the floor or in the bed. We might as well just share.”

“But you snore, remember?”

“There’s actually no real evidence to that claim,” you refute.

“Well, it’s a twin sized bed. I might crush you.”

“I don’t need that much space. We can even sleep head to toe, if you want.”

“My feet stink. Your feet stink.” The effort he was going through to not share a bed with you was eating away at you. You’re sure he’s slept with his group mates plenty of times before, so what difference did it make?

“Oh my god! Fine, sleep on the floor.” You throw a pillow and one of his many plushies his way, turning on your side to face the wall.

“Are you mad at me?” he asks from behind, his voice now quiet and careful. To be honest, you’re not quite sure whether you’re being serious or not.

You turn over to look at him, sitting on the edge of the bed, petting the plushie’s head.

“Kai,” you sit up. “Kai, look, I’m sorry. I’m not mad.”

“I feel like I’m always putting my foot in my mouth when I’m around you.”

“You’re not. I wouldn’t spend so much time with you if I didn’t want to.” You cup his cheek, running your thumb over one of his moles. “I promise.”

Yeonjun isn’t afraid to check you when you’re in the wrong, but Kai is too sweet to deal with any sort of confrontation. It’s something you’ve been having to adjust to lately.

“We can share the bed. I didn’t mean to make it seem like it was a bad thing,” he says. Sometimes you think he can read your mind.

“Okay,” you say, making room for him. He turns off the lamp and climbs in next to you, making sure to leave a big enough gap so he doesn’t touch you. Even in the dark, it’s obvious that he’s lying halfway off the mattress.

“You can come closer,” you say. God forbid he falls onto the floor in the middle of the night and it’s your fault for hogging all of the bed.

He moves inward, your faces so close that your noses are nearly touching. You could probably count his freckles from here.

Sure, every once in a while, you’ll lay your head on his shoulder or he’ll lay his in your lap, but this is much more intimate. Suddenly, your heartbeat feels too fast to fall asleep anymore.

“Y/N,” Kai whispers, although he already has your full attention. You like the way he says your name. His fingers grip your waist under the sheets, bringing you even closer.

You tremble under his touch, his eyes locked on yours. This is a dangerous game.

In seconds, his mouth is pressed against yours, desperate and hungry. You’ve been kissed by boys before, but never like this. You can’t get enough of him.

You run your fingers through his hair, still soft even after several sessions of bleach. Like that night in the cab, you feel him hard against you, except now it’s intentional. It feels good.

Kai climbs on top of you, finding his way between your legs without breaking the kiss. You wonder how often he’s done this.

“We shouldn’t,” you breathe as he presses kisses along your collarbone, although it’s lost between your heavy sighs.

His hand grazes the waistband of your shorts. Visions of him doing the same with other girls—specifically the one from that morning—pop into your head. Panicking, you pull away from his kiss, using all of your strength to push him off of you.

“Y/N?” he asks, his lips puffy and his brows knitted in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“I have to go,” you say, tugging down the hemline of your t-shirt, which had ridden up during the exchange. You hop off the bed and attempt to find your sneakers in the dark.

“Please don’t go,” he pleads with you, grabbing onto your wrist. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It was stupid.”

You turn back to him, tears welling up in your eyes. “It was stupid?”

“No! That’s not what I meant. I just—I don’t want to do anything that could ruin our friendship. You mean too much to me, Y/N. I shouldn’t have kissed you, no matter how much I wanted to and no matter how good it felt.”

“It felt good?” you say, stepping towards him. It’s a relief to know he at least enjoyed it as much as you did.

“Really good,” Kai admits. “But it shouldn’t have happened. I can’t risk losing you.”

“Right.” It’s a really good point. “I don’t want to lose you either.”

“So… no kissing.”

“No kissing,” you agree.

“Anything else off the table?” He asks this in a way that you can’t tell if he’s flirting with you or not. You decide to take the risk and step closer to him.

“I think cuddling is fair game. It would be too great a loss to our friendship.” You hold his hand.

“Mhmm, definitely.” He helps you climb back onto the bed before following suit, pressing his chest to your back, enveloping you in his warmth.

“You know, if I had you around in the wintertime, I’d save a lot on my heating bill,” you point out.

“Go to sleep, silly,” Kai laughs, nuzzling his head into the nook above your shoulder.

“Fine. Goodnight,” you yawn, your eyelids feeling heavier by the second.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he whispers, although you’re already sound asleep, your soft snores filling the room.

—————-

When you wake up, Kai is gone. He’s left a note on the bedside table that reads: Went to get breakfast. Be back soon :-)

You stumble into the living room, rubbing your eyes as sunlight streams through the balcony doors. Yeonjun sits at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of cereal and watching footage from the group’s latest dance rehearsal.

“Be honest, did you and Huening fuck last night?”

“Good morning to you, too.”

“Come on, Y/N. I heard some suspicious shit when I went to the kitchen to grab water and unless he’s doing some magical switcharoo, you’ve been the only girl around for the last few months.”

“Is this some weird cross examination? Are you going to compare my story to his?” You try not to smile at the notion that Kai has stopped seeing other girls, but it makes you giddy.

“I wish. He wouldn’t tell me anything,” Yeonjun huffs.

“Well, if you must know, we made out for a few minutes. I panicked. He panicked. We both agreed to never do it again. End of story.”

“That’s no fun.”

“It’s not, but it prevents us from doing something we might regret and breaking up the entire friend group.”

“Do you like him like that?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.”

“It kind of does, Y/N. I’m pretty sure that boy is head over heels in love with you.”

The thought of Huening Kai being in love with you stops you dead in your tracks. Your Kai, secretly pining for your affection? You decide that it’s nothing more than a fantasy.

“That’s impossible,” you shrug. “It was just a moment of weakness between two friends. Nothing more, okay?”

Before you can discuss this any further, Kai is walking through the front door, coffee and pastries in hand.

“Y/N, you’re awake! I was scared I’d have to get you out of bed myself. Yeonjun was warning me how grumpy you are in the mornings.”

“She’s a monster,” Yeonjun says. You flick him on the side of the head. “Ouchie.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he giggles, unpacking enough doughnuts to feed an army. “I didn’t know which one you wanted, Y/N, so I just tried to pick ones I thought you’d like.”

“I love honeydew, so you picked well,” you say, taking a bite of one with bright green filling. “Mmm! Where’d you get these?”

“Old Ferry Donut. It’s across town, but totally worth the trip. I go with my sisters all the time. You should come with us next time.”

“Ooh, introducing Y/N to the family. It’s getting serious,” Yeonjun teases. Kai shoots him a dirty look. He takes the hint, grabbing a couple of doughnuts on the way back to his bedroom.

“He can be such a dick sometimes,” Kai sighs.

“Yes, but he’s our dick,” you insist, trying not to let him ruin the moment.

“I suppose that’s true,” he laughs. It always makes you feel good about yourself whenever you manage to cheer him up. Usually, that’s his job with you. “I’d really like for Lea and Hiyyih to meet you, though. I think you’d all get along super well.”

“Then let’s set something up. I’m free all day,” you say, your mouth full of food.

“Really, Y/N?” Kai asks. You nod in agreement and his eyes light up at your enthusiasm. “This is awesome! I’ll text them right now!”

Maybe, just maybe, he really is in love with you.

—————-

Taglist: @orangesodafoam @deezbutz28 @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @internet-folks @darlingz99 @foxyjun @stardustmooncakes @giaalorine @niningtori @goquokka @csbenthusiast @moarmyjkhk @lizdevorak @sooberryworld @lonelybutterflytae @midnight-mochii @theresawtf @nowadays56 @jjklvr9 @baekberrie @philijack @lixpixstix @reiheis

P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist! Also, I struggle to keep up with different lists for individual members, but if you really don’t want to be tagged on all of my works, just let me know and I will do my best to keep things separate <3

#hueningkai x reader #hueningkai #huening txt #txt #tomorrow x together #txt imagines #txt fic #txt hyuka #hyuka x reader #txt x reader #txt fluff #txt angst #hueningkai fluff #hueningkai angst #hueningkai imagines #hueningkai smut

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lostcauses-noregrets · 7 months

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By Rafael Motamayor, New York Times, Nov. 5, 2023

On Saturday, the final episode of the anime adaptation of Hajime Isayama’s “Attack on Titan” premiered on Crunchyroll and Hulu, ending an epic tale that started back in 2013.

Like the manga, which ran from 2009 to 2021, the anime was an instant hit, becoming one of the defining shows of the modern anime era, with spinoffs, live-action and video game adaptations, and even a comic book crossover with Marvel’s “Spider-Man” and “Avengers” titles.

Since the fourth and final season started airing in 2020, “Attack on Titan” has been one of the most popular shows on the internet — episodes have routinely trended on social media, streaming servers have occasionally crashed, the opening theme song became a rare anime song to hit the U.S. Billboard charts. Parrot Analytics said it was the most “in-demand” show in the world in 2021, a metric based on analysis of streaming, social media, search and other online behaviors. The manga has continued to be popular as well, selling over 120 million copies worldwide, and several of the published volumes have charted on the New York Times graphic novels and manga best-seller list.

What started as a thrilling yet relatively simple tale of a young boy seeking revenge against the giant humanoid monsters that ate his mother quickly evolved into a thought-provoking war epic. The tonal shift in “Attack on Titan” also came with one of the biggest heel-turns in modern anime, with the protagonist, Eren Jaeger, devolving into a radicalized monster threatening worldwide genocide.

Since the manga ended in 2021, there has been plenty of speculation and debate over Eren’s antagonistic turn and what the story’s ending means. Ahead of the release of the final episode, the manga creator Hajime Isayama, speaking through an interpreter, David Higbee, talks about the restrictive nature of writing and the story’s dark ending. These are edited excerpts from the interview.

The manga ended a couple of years ago, and the anime is just finishing now. How do you feel about the story coming to an end?

For this anime to be made and for that to go beyond the borders of Japan and to reach a worldwide audience is something that’s been a very happy occurrence for me. In a sense, “Attack on Titan” has connected me to the world, and that’s something that I’m very glad happened.

How much of the ending from the manga did you have in mind when you first began writing “Attack on Titan”? And how much did it change along the way?

That was pretty much there from the beginning, the story that starts with the victim who then goes through this story and becomes the aggressor. That is something I had in mind right from the get-go. Along the way, certain aspects of the story didn’t go as expected, and I adapted and fleshed out certain aspects. But I would say the ending of the story didn’t change much

There’s a much-talked-about scene where Armin, who is struggling with Eren’s turn into a mass murderer, seems to thank him for his actions. Can you talk about the meaning behind that conversation?

My thinking there wasn’t really that Armin was trying to push Eren away for the sake of justice or whatnot. It was more that he wanted to, in a sense, take joint responsibility. He wanted to become an accomplice. In order to become an accomplice, Armin had to make sure that he used very strong wording so that he could take those sins upon himself. And so that was the intent behind it.

You have a scene where Eren apologizes to a kid for the carnage he’s going to commit and says he was disappointed in the world he saw beyond the walls. What does that say about his motivation?

I think that refers to the fact that Eren was dreaming of going to this world outside of the walls where there was nobody and there was nothing. There was an excitement about this world that was just empty, a clean slate. I don’t really know whether that’s a good or a bad thing, and I don’t really know why that was the ideal that I set up for Eren as a part of this story. But what I can say is that, when he does get across the wall at that point, he says he sees that the world is really not that different from what’s within the walls in the world that he already knows. I believe that’s probably the disappointment that I’m referring to in that specific scene.

Eren says in the final episode of the anime that he had no choice but to follow the future that he saw, that he was powerless against the powers of the Founding Titan. Armin even asks if he’s really free. Was he telling the truth or do you see this as him telling an excuse?

So the truth is the situation with Eren actually overlaps in a certain sense with my own story with this manga. When I first started this series, I was worried that it would probably be canceled. It was a work that no one knew about. But I had already started the story with the ending in mind. And the story ended up being read and watched by an incredible number of people, and it led to me being given a huge power that I didn’t quite feel comfortable with.

It would have been nice if I could have changed the ending. Writing manga is supposed to be freeing. But if I was completely free, then I should have been able to change the ending. I could have changed it and said I wanted to go in a different direction. But the fact is that I was tied down to what I had originally envisioned when I was young. And so, manga became a very restrictive art form for me, similar to how the massive powers that Eren acquired ended up restricting him.

You have been involved in the anime production for a little while, supervising the adaptation’s storyboards, and have been known for asking for changes to the story in the adaptation. Did you personally ask for anything for the final episode?

Yes. Absolutely. I checked the script, but the main thing was the storyboards. There were different things I suggested. When it comes down to it, it’s really the role of the production to make those decisions. But I wanted to at least give my input so that they could take those into account when they were making the final decisions.

The manga ends with you showing the future of Paradis and sort of the cycle of war continuing. Is there no end to the conflict and the cycle you present in the story?

I guess there could have been an ending where it was a happy ending and the war ended and everything was fine and dandy. I guess that could have been possible. At the same time, the end of fighting and the end of contention itself kind of seems hokey. It kind of seems like it’s not even believable. It’s just not plausible in the world we’re living in right now. And so, sadly, I had to give up on that kind of happy ending.

[New York Times, 5 November 2023]

#hajime isayama #this is really interesting #the analogy between himself and eren is fascinating #interview #new york times #snk

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blainesebastian · 2 years

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co-stars

words: 2,475 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (request from @lovvelylivv) “hidden co-star relationship“ where austin and female reader are doing press tour 4 elvis and the interviewer is like low key flirting w her and austin is clearly jealous but he can’t do anything bc they’re not public yet. notes: masterlist posted here! warnings: none tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell

It just sort of happened, that’s what you tell your closest friends.

You’ve been in plenty of films before to know the drill—showing up, doing your job and doing it well, going through the motions of before and after a movie wraps, the interviews, the parties, the events, the awards. You know for the most part what to expect.

But what you didn’t expect was Austin.

Your agent comes to you with this great opportunity, to be in a film that’s not quite a biopic but something more than that, a story that needs to be told and shared about Elvis Presley. You’re not quite sure how you fit into this thing or even if you can carry out something that’s so important to this man’s legacy. But you’re a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, and so when you get the part from your audition, you know you’re not going to take anything for granted.

Working with Austin is just the icing on the cake. You knew of him from similar circles, but you didn’t understand how incredibly talented and dedicated he was until working with him firsthand. Not only that but he’s extremely humble, thoughtful, and sweet. Not only was running lines and scenes with him easy, but he also became a fast friend that you could talk to about the film, the industry and just general things you’d been going through.

You knew Austin had lost his mother when he was younger, he’s always been rather open about that with regards to his Elvis role, but you don’t quite have the words to be able to say how much he was there for you when your dad got sick. Right in the middle of filming too. So much of your world was spinning off it’s axis and Austin was the only person that made things slow down, still. Your father eventually got better, but it was an incredibly rocky few months and you don’t think you would have made it through without having someone to lean on.

So it’s only natural that a month or so after that, you two started seeing one another.

At first it was just kissing—electrically charged moments leftover from emotionally vulnerable states, the connection you two felt over shared experiences, shared pain. But it obviously blossomed into being something more than that because your feelings didn’t have anything to do with finding an escape.

Kissing turned into spending the night, which turned into dates, which turned into introducing friends and family—even though your father already knew Austin well from all the time he visited in the hospital. The relationship is serious, yet very private. Both of you know what it’s like to have your lives turned inside out by Hollywood, to constantly being under the microscope of the public eye and…you both want to focus on what’s important, which is right now Elvis and all the hard work you’ve put in over the years.

Your relationship is your business and yours alone, Austin agrees that there’s a time and place to go public. For now, it’s minimal PDA that doesn’t go beyond close friends and the real intimacies behind closed doors. Austin’s a gentleman naturally, so most of the time his mannerisms towards you are easily explained.

It makes sense, though it doesn’t mean it’s always easy.

You walk out of a small back room to an interview space, mostly a red-curtained area that has the ELVIS movie logo behind two tall chairs that you and Austin are going to sit in. You’re not mic’d yet, so small conversations are able to be had as everyone else runs around to get ready for the interview. You give Austin a small smile, his hand along your lower back as you walk to the chairs,

“You gotta help me climb onto these things.”

A soft laugh rumbles in his chest and well, these chairs are slightly awkward. They’re elevated from the ground but especially if you’ve got heels on? You kinda got to hold onto someone else as you hoist yourself up and get situated.

“What would you do without me?” He teases, holding onto your hand and helping you up. “You good?”

“I think,” You shimmy around to get comfortable, adjusting your blazer that you paired with black skinny jeans and black studded heels. Austin’s just got a simple black t-shirt on, pleather pants but…the man could wear grocery store paper and still look great.

“Don’t be fallin’ over in one of these things.” His hand lingers along your hip and brushes your arm as he moves to take the chair next to you and you try not to think about how easily he adjusts with his long legs. One is bent just slightly as his heel rests on a rung of the chair.

“Right, would hate for you to show up at my mom’s house tonight for dinner without me.” You grin, voice an octave lower just in case.

Austin smiles, licking his lips as he runs a hand through his hair, “Your mom loves me—she probably wouldn’t even think twice.”

You snort, shaking your head. Honestly…that’s a bit true. Guaranteed she probably made an extra special dessert or something for him since she knows he’s coming to dinner. You straighten your shoulders as the interviewer comes out behind the red curtain, sitting in the other chair. A slew of other people follow, putting mics on both you and Austin, makeup people padding a few spots on your faces and finally asking if you’d like water or anything else to drink.

The interviewer’s name is Max and he’s this really chill guy from Brooklyn who has his own YouTube channel and podcast and you’re able to talk with him a little bit before getting started, cameras being turned on and intros being swept out of the way. Max does a great job at ping-ponging the questions back and forth to you and Austin, which you really appreciate. Sometimes you’ve been in interviews where questions are mostly for Austin—and that’s totally okay with you, but half the time you’re not even asked a second question in a half hour or hour span of time.

Austin makes sure you’re always pulled into the conversation though too, somehow turning questions about him, his craft, or his experiences, to loop you right into responding. It constantly makes you want to lean over and kiss him on the cheek for being so thoughtful. Max balances the questions out without being prompted, which makes the interview far more interesting to be a part of.

“So, I just gotta pause and say, Y/N, you were incredible in the film,” Max says, “I mean, just as often as I was blown away by Austin, I was astounded with you as well.”

You smile, still not used to taking compliments but you’re always appreciative to hear them. Your cheeks flush a soft pink and you can feel rather than see Austin smiling too in your direction, that sort of proud awe look he’s reserved for you many times over.

“Thank you,” You curl your hair around your ear, “It’s definitely a marathon race kind of movie, twists and turns, all good things though, astounding experiences.”

“What was the most difficult part for you?” Max begins to ask but then touches the earpiece he’s wearing, “Oh wait—hold on. Seems like we’re getting feedback from your mic. Sorry about that,” He stands from the chair, “Gonna need to switch it out.”

“Oh,” You look down, beginning to unclip it from the blazer you’re wearing. Austin picks up his water during the small break, taking a sip as Max gets another mic and helps you switch it out. Your hands brush as you exchange mics but you’re having trouble pinning it back on the lapel of your blazer without it falling.

“Here—let me…” Max trails off, stepping into your personal space. You can see Austin out of the corner of your eye watching, but trying not to, the interaction. You’ve gotten pretty well at sussing out Austin’s body language in this time together, as he’s come to know yours, so it’s clear that he’s not thrilled with how close Max is standing to you.

Though maybe it wouldn’t have been half as bad if Max would have kept his mouth shut.

“Sorry we interrupted your questions,” His fingers loop the mic chord underneath your blazer a bit, “Mic must have short circuited from your beautiful voice.” And while that is definitely the cheesiest line you’ve ever heard to flirt with you, it’s harmless.

Austin, however, definitely rolls his eyes.

You smile lightly, not wanting to be rude when there’s still an interview to get through. “I’m sure that’s not the case—I didn’t have enough caffeine today so maybe it can pick up on me screeching a little.”

Max laughs, pulling back, “Trust me—you got the whole beautiful package goin’ on.”

Austin clears his throat, loud enough that it seems to get Max’s attention and reminds him about what they’re supposed to be doing. He smiles in your direction again and turns to go back to his chair. A soft smile tugs at the corners of your mouth at Austin’s displeasure and while Max has his back in your direction, you quickly rest your hand along your boyfriend’s thigh and squeeze comfortingly. Austin’s hand covers yours, a quick motion as he readjusts himself in his chair, both of you back to normal when Max sits down again.

The questions continue seamlessly, that same back and forth action to talk about specific scenes, musical numbers, costumes, the whole nine. Towards the end though, Max kind of hesitates before another question comes out,

“So, Y/N, I just want to ask—we know your dad got sick in the middle of filming and I was just wondering what kind of effect that had on you as an actress and how that might have impacted how things were handled on set.”

You pause for a few reasons—for one, it is astounding to you that interviewers, no matter how unassuming they may be, can just presume they can ask really intimate and personal questions right at the drop of a hat. Luckily this isn’t live, so they can stop filming if need be, but also the fact that you don’t want to act like some sort of diva that randomly leaves interviews just because you don’t like the question. Secondly, you can feel Austin bristle beside you even though he doesn’t say anything, his face remains neutral other than a muscle in his jaw clenching, and you can see the sharp line of his shoulders where he was relaxed before.

He does not like the personal direction the question is in either.

“Uhm, well—” You trail off for a moment, trying to figure out how best to respond to this. While the question seems alright on the surface, it’s worded incredibly obtuse in a bunch of ways. It’s obvious having a sick dad had an effect on you as an actress, why does that need to be addressed?

Austin, sensing your discomfort, moves his hand to touch your wrist, “Hey maybe move on from that question man, that’s her dad—there’s other things you can ask her.” He’s already a bit riled up from before, so there’s an air to his voice that he’s putting his foot down, this is not a conversation.

You can feel yourself let out a slow breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, unable to find the exact words to either respond to the question or tell Max you couldn’t talk about it. Obviously your story ended up good, your dad is fine, on the road to recovery and getting stronger every day. But that doesn’t mean what happened is easy to talk about, or anyone’s business either. It’s out there, clearly, because Max felt comfortable enough to ask about it…but you really appreciate Austin jumping in like that.

Max at least has the decency to look embarrassed, nodding his head, “Of course, my apologies—we’ll cut that.”

Austin’s thumb runs back and forth along your wrist as they continue to film, a few more questions finishing up the interview.

He doesn’t remove his hand.

Once the interview is over and you’re in the back of an SUV, pulling out into traffic, you can feel the full force of frustration coming off of Austin’s body in waves. He’s rarely the type of person to get angry or irritated for long stretches of time, but clearly Max has gotten underneath his skin. You let him have a few moments to himself, looking over some texts from your mom about dinner. Eventually you reach over and settle your hand on his, running your thumb along his knuckles.

“I’m okay,” You want to assure him that you’ve definitely been through worse lines of questioning in your career but you’re pretty sure that’s not going to help. “Max was just overeager—I think interviewers start worrying that they’re gonna end up askin’ the same type of questions everyone else is, so some of them overreach.”

“He did not know when to quit; not to mention the amount of flirtin’ he was doin’ while fixin’ your mic,” Austin’s voice has this twang to it when he sometimes talks too fast, when he’s wound up, leftover voice impressions from Elvis.

You smile just a little, can’t quite help it, “You know…I consider jealousy a base emotion but it’s actually kinda hot coming from you.”

Austin turns his head to look at you, his eyebrows drawing together as his visibly struggles with his next words. A laugh bubbles in your throat, slipping out of your lips and instead of saying anything, he moves to grab onto you, tugging you across the center seat and against his chest. You’d attempt to move if you really wanted to, but you don’t, grinning as you tilt your chin back to look up at him.

“No one’s jealous here.”

You purse your lips, reaching to cup his cheek. Running your thumb down along his lower lip, you reply, “No of course not—not at all.”

He presses a kiss to the pad of your thumb, settling back into his seat. He’s relaxed a bit since you first got into the SUV, the harsh line gone from his shoulders, his eyes a calm blue instead of a restless sea.

“Just protective.” He mumbles and your stomach flutters at the warm sentiment. “Next time I’m tellin’ interviewers like Max exactly what’s on my mind.”

You laugh lightly before kissing him, stealing as much time as you can alone. Knowing how polite Austin is, you understand that probably won’t be the case, but the words mean just as much anyways.

Thank you so much for the request! I hope you liked it :) thanks to everyone who read, if you’d like to be added to a general Austin x reader masterlist, please let me know!

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler drabble #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things

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multi-fandom-of-madness · 8 months

Note

for flufftober.. would it be possible to have day 6 be with swiss x reader?? idk i fell like even tho swiss is usually dancing all feral and shit on stage, he’d also be good at other forms of dancing? like i see him being able to do all that cutesy romantic dancing and dipping the reader and all that:( anywho- idk if you’ve already gotten a request for that one and if you have, you can go with that one cause i know this one is extremely late. i just saw that prompt and immediately thought of swiss being able to do shit from salsa dancing to waltzes to jazz. idk man. he just gives those vibes… maybe even classically trained? ANYWAYS IM SO SORRY THIS GOT SO LONG AHHH <333

Step On Your Toes

Flufftober Day 6: Dancing together

Pairings: Mountain X Reader X Swiss (Implied Poly!Ghouls X Reader)

Type: Fluff

Summary: Reader plans on surprising Swiss for his birthday with a dance, yet cannot dance to save their life. Mountain is more than happy to help.

Warnings: Light drinking, a bit of self-doubt

Word Count: 2,390

Notes: Read here on ao3. Find my flufftober prompt list here. Okay, so I absolutely loved both of these ideas, so I'm realllyyy hoping y'all are cool with me merging them :) Songs mentioned: Summertime Sadness by Lana Del Ray & Grow As We Go by Ben Platt. Second prompt under the cut for space reasons :)

“Ouch,” Mountain whispered as you once again stepped on his toes.

You sighed and dropped your hands, backing away from the tall ghoul. “I’m sorry…I don’t think I can do this. That’s what now? Eight times? I just want to surprise Swiss with a cute little dance, but all I can do is step on your toes.”

“Hey now, we have plenty of time to practice before the party. I’ll help you get this right,” he assured, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“But I haven’t been able to, and Swiss’s birthday is in less than a week. It’s my first year that I get to spend his birthday with him, and I want it to be perfect.”

Mountain pulled you into a hug, resting his chin on your head. “Swiss loves you whether or not you can dance. That ghoul is just insanely talented and a show-off. He isn’t going to love you less if you step on his toes.” His hand rubbed your back in a soothing manner.

“I don’t want to step on his toes. I want this to go smoothly.”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay not to surprise him with a dance if you’re that worried about it,” he offered.

“But I want to. I just…I don’t know…I feel like I’ll make a fool out of myself,” you said in a whisper as you walked over to the corner of the practice room to grab your water bottle.

Mountain chuckles, pulling you back against him, hugging you tightly. “Now, now, if anyone will make a fool out of themselves, my bets are all on Dewdrop and Phantom. You’ll be the least of everyone’s worries,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your head. “A few mistakes can’t throw a wrench in your plans. Plus, stepping on his feet a few times won’t ruin the dance. You were so determined to get this right when you initially asked for my help. Where’d that spirit go?”

“Probably the same place that my ability to dance went,” you mumbled as he began to sway while holding onto you. He hummed as if he were considering something. “What are you plotting?”

“How about this?” He spun you around, lifting you with ease and placing both of your feet on the tops of his. “I will move, and you will let your body move with mine. This way, I can teach you how to move the right way, then you can try it without me guiding you. How does that sound?”

You look up with a concerned look. “Do you actually think this is going to help at all?”

“Maybe…maybe not,” he shrugs. “And if it doesn’t, then we’ll think of something else to surprise Swiss,” he offered, holding you against his chest as he stared at you, his green eyes showing nothing but kindness.

“Maybe I can just get him a cat.”

“He already has Dewdrop. We don’t need another one,” Mountain teased. “Will you at least try my idea?” He asked, a slight pout on his face.

“Alright…alright, we can try it,” you sighed, giving in. You felt silly doing this, but there was a part of you that wanted this to work.

Mountain pulled his phone from his pocket and pressing play on a slow song, beginning to sway at first before moving his feet to the beat.

It wasn’t the song you intended to use with Swiss, but Mountain had a playlist of slow, mostly cheesy, romantic songs that he played while dancing in the rain or in the greenhouse with Rain.

“Summertime Sadness?” You questioned as the first notes rang through.

Mountain let out a laugh. “Hey, it’s a good song. Not every song on my playlist has to be heavy metal,” he said, moving his feet in a consistent pattern.

“The big, scary, earth ghoul is a Lana fan. Who would’ve guessed?” You teased as he danced around the room with you.

“I only know a few of her songs. Can’t lie and say they aren’t good, though,” he grinned, glad to see your mind on something other than the dancing. That only lasted a few minutes when you looked down to see his steps. He let out a gentle ‘tsk’, taking one hand off your hip to tilt your chin to look at him. “Eyes on me, love,” he whispered. “Let your body feel the beat, not your mind.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just feel,” he said as if that alone made perfect sense, placing his hand back on your hip.

“Earth ghouls…cryptic little creatures,” you huffed, trying to keep your eyes up.

“I am anything but little,” he scoffed.

“Yeah, okay, you aren’t little, but you’re still cryptic as hell.”

“I’m choosing to take that as a compliment.”

“Whatever floats your boat,” you laugh. He holds you close as you both move to the music. He has one hand on your waist and the other holding your hand. It’s sweet and simple, and you almost forget that you’re not moving yourself.

At one point he sets you on the ground, and there’s a small look of panic in your eyes before he spins you. He lets you twirl once, guided by his hand, then puts a hand on your waist, dips you, and gives you a chaste kiss. He grins as he pulls you back to stand on his feet.

“What was that for?”

“What? Can’t kiss my favorite human?” He chuckles, continuing to move along to the music.

“Well, you can. I just wasn’t expecting it,” you confess, laughing with him.

The song comes to an end and both of you just stand there, not quite moving. “Want to try another song like this, or do you want to try it without me guiding you?”

You pause to think, weighing the options. “What if we do two more songs like this, take a break, then let me try it on my own.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he smiles, already pressing play on the next song.

—

The night of the party comes rather quickly. You and Mountain had been practicing for a few hours each day, determined to get this dance down.

The room feels like it’s practically alive. People are dancing, talking, and drinking. There’s some sort of upbeat song playing. Even the decorations add an extra buzz. Truly a party designed for the lively multi-ghoul.

You were in the corner, sipping a glass of champagne, and practically freaking out. Mountain had an arm wrapped around your shoulder, trying to comfort you.

“You’re too tense,” he said gently. “You did phenomenal yesterday. Didn’t even step on my toes once.”

“I know, but that was practicing. And with you. Swiss is…such a good dancer. I’m pretty sure he knows every dance ever created. I’m going to embarrass myself.”

“You’re not going to embarrass yourself. I promise. No one will even notice if you mess up because if you mess up–”

“–when I mess up.”

“–if you mess up, he’ll cover for you and make sure no one knows that it was you. Trust me, he’ll guide you through it if he has to, but you’ll do amazing,” he assures.

“I don’t know…this just feels like a mistake.”

“Look at me,” he says, tilting your head up. “He’s going to love it. He’ll be thrilled that you even made the attempt if this ends horribly. He loves you, and nothing will change that.”

You sigh, staring at the bubbles in your glass. “I know…I just want this to be good.”

“It will be. You need to stop doubting yourself,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

Swiss walks over with an excited grin. He’s dressed up - as is everyone else - but has a silly cone on his head, strapped to his chin that reads ‘Birthday Boy’ that Phantom and Aurora made him. “Well hello, lovebirds,” he laughs, throwing an arm around you.

You smile and press a kiss to his cheek. “Happy birthday, Swiss.”

“Are you two enjoying yourselves?” He asks, looking between you and Mountain, taking a sip of whatever was in his cup.

“I am, don’t know about this one,” Mountain teases, which gets him an elbow to the ribs.

Swiss looks down at you, a look of confusion on his face. “Now why is that?”

“No reason,” you say, taking a sip of champagne and giving Mountain a dirty look for saying something.

“Oh come on, you can’t not have a good time at my party. It’s my birthday,” he pouts. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“What’s wrong is that Mountain can’t keep his mouth shut.”

Mountain chuckles. “Guilty as charged.”

“No, seriously, is something wrong?” Swiss asks, he takes his arm from around your face to look at you face to face, trying to gauge your true feelings.

“It’s nothing important, Swiss. I swear.”

“Pinky promise?” He lifts his hand, making a fist, and extending his pinky.

You interlock your pinky with his. “Pinky promise,” you assure.

You chat for a few more minutes until Swiss gets called away by another guest. Mountain turns toward you with a skeptical look.

“So when are you planning on bringing him out for the dance exactly?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I guess when it feels right.”

“You worked yourself up, didn’t you?”

“What? No,” you said with playful denial, taking a sip of champagne to avoid eye contact.

“I’m not letting you leave this room until you dance with him,” he persists, taking the glass from you. “You worked so hard, and he’s going to absolutely love to see you surprise him.”

“I really don’t-”

“Nope. No more ‘I don’t’ or ‘I can’t’,” he interrupts. “You really should pull him aside, and ask him to dance. You don’t need to keep doubting yourself.”

“You’re right,” you sigh. “Are you sure he won’t laugh if I embarrass myself?”

“Did I?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, well that was just practicing. He’s not going to laugh.”

“Fine. Alright, I’ll go talk to him.”

“Good,” Mountain says, grabbing your waist and kissing the top of your head. “You’re going to do great. I believe in you.”

“Thank you, Mountain.”

“Of course, sweetheart. Go knock ‘em dead,” he grins, pushing you in the direction of Swiss.

You swallow the lump in your throat, then walk over to Swiss who’s in a conversation with Rain and Cirrus.

All of the ghoul’s knew about your surprise, except Swiss of course, so Rain and Cirrus exchanged a knowing look, ready to let you take Swiss away.

“Hey, do you mind if I steal this one?” You asked, slightly hesitant, putting a hand on Swiss’s shoulder.

“By all means,” Rain smirks, taking Swiss’s glass and party hat, then pulling Cirrus away.

You take a shaky breath, then pull Swiss to the dance floor as the opening to Grow As We Go begins.

“What are you doing?” Swiss asks with a slight smile. You move one of his hands to your waist, wrap that hand around his neck, then hold the other in your free hand.

“Surprising you?” You offer, beginning to sway to the music and trying to move your feet in the way Mountain taught you.

“You know you’re supposed to watch your dancing partner, not your feet, right?” He teases.

You look up, a slightly worried expression. “I’m sorry,” you say with a slight frown.

“Are you worried you’re going to step on my toes?”

“A bit…I haven’t been able to do this without stepping on Mountain’s at least once.”

“So that’s where you two have been sneaking off to,” he grins. “If it makes you feel better, my feet are much smaller than his.”

You laugh. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. He’s been helping me for the past few weeks. I know you really like you to dance, and that you’re really good at it, so I figured I would try to surprise you.”

“Well, you’re doing a great job so far. You’ve only stepped on my toes once.”

“I did? Oh, I’m sorry,” you frown, looking back at your feet.

He grabs your chin and smiles at you. “Hey, did I complain? No, I didn’t, so let me see those beautiful eyes.”

A shy smile comes over your face. “I’m sorry, I just…really want this to be perfect.”

“The fact that you felt comfortable enough to do this for me makes this perfect as is. You’re perfect,” he says softly.

The crowd is watching, but neither of you seem to care. It’s just a moment for the two of you. You bring yourself closer to him and rest your head on his shoulder.

“You’re doing amazing, you know,” he whispers, resting his head on top of yours.

You hum in acknowledgement and sway to the music. It seems to fade out, like the only thing happening in the room is Swiss holding you close. It’s the perfect moment.

He begins to hum along with the song, then pushes you away to spin you just as Mountain had done many times before. You let him twirl you before he wrapped you back in his arms with your back to his chest, pressing a kiss to your jaw. You giggled as his facial hair tickled your cheek.

He smiled and let out a light laugh. “You look amazing tonight.”

“I really should be the one complimenting you, birthday boy.”

He laughed again. “It’s my birthday, I can do what I want.”

He spun you out once more as the song began to wrap up. Holding you by the waist, he bent you back, planting a sweet, yet passionate kiss to your lips as the song ended. When he brought you upright, he was holding your cheek as he continued to kiss you.

“Thank you,” he whispered, keeping his face close to yours and staring into your eyes.

“I love you, Swiss. Happy birthday,” you said as you pressed another kiss to his lips.

He wrapped you in his arms, pulling you into a tight hug. “I love you so much, sweetheart. This was truly an incredible surprise,” he said, squeezing you against him.

“I’m glad you liked it,” you smile, wrapping your arms around him and returning the hug.

“And guess what?” He pulls away, a playful grin on his face.

“What?”

“You only stepped on my toes three times.”

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