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#yuna writes
134340am · 1 year
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miya atsumu x gn!reader, suggestive
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“what are ya thinkin’ about?”
“how soft your hair is,” you hum back in reply, carding your fingers through your lover’s hair. atsumu, fresh out of the shower and smelling of peaches, freezes in his spot between your legs — obviously guilty.
“ya like my hair?” he asks.
you ignore him.
“have you been using my conditioner, ‘tsumu?”
“…what’s mine is mine, and what’s yers is mine, babe.”
you suppress a laugh. “who said that?”
“it’s in our wedding vows.”
“we’re not married!”
atsumu turns, his arms finding their usual place around your waist while a familiar lazy grin pulls at his lips. “not married—yet.”
“silly goose.” you bring your hand up to flick at his forehead gently, suppressing yet another chuckle at how your lover scrunches up his handsome face. then you kiss away the crease between his brows, peck the tip of his nose, and finally press a big noisy smack to his lips — complete with an exaggerated “mwah!” that makes him giggle boyishly.
“what are you thinking about, then?” you ask when you pull back.
“hmmm.” a tiny pout pulls at his lips. you see the mischievous glint in his eyes — he’s pretending to think. “i’m thinkin’ ‘bout yer tits in my mouth.”
“miya atsumu!”
“oh, uh, please? yer tits in my mouth… please?”
“you’re terrible.”
“that wasn’t a no.”
you feel atsumu’s arms tighten around your middle, shoulders flexing under his thin cotton shirt, and your breath hitches when his thumbs slip under the hem your shirt to rub at the sensitive skin of your waist.
“…no, it wasn’t.”
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nichuuu · 6 months
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Dried Things & Humanity
말린 것들과 인류
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Word count: 13k+ SMUTLESS FIC
"The world, after all, was still a place of bottomless horror. It was by no means a place of childlike simplicity where everything could be settled by a simple then-and-there decision" ~Osamu Dazai
Dried flowers. 
They sat by your bedside, a constant reminder of how far you would go for love—A love that would never be anything more than a short-lived euphoria. They’d died some time ago, wilting rather quickly under a lack of care, but you kept them. The text that came when spring first rolled around saying hey let’s break up was not expected, neither was the part where she blocked you, nor was the part where you almost jumped off a bridge. Yet it all happened, a confusing, muddled, mish mash of events that went down over the span of a week. If it weren’t for your friends, you would be at the bottom of the river by now, joining your grandfather and maybe your family dog up in the clouds, or wherever it was that spirits wandered to. At the moment, getting out of this life didn’t seem like too bad of an idea.
You stupid child! Your mother had chided when she found out about what you almost did. What do you think you would’ve achieved with that? What good will it do? 
Then she hugged you, held you tight and sobbed as she thanked god for letting you live another day. Frankly, you didn’t know what was the appropriate response for your mother. You opted to hug her back, tearfully whispering your endless apologies to her. Even though you promised to never make another attempt on your life, the fear of losing her only boy still lingered in your mother’s mind. Your mother and father were always in the office. So, in fear that living alone would drive you to the worst possible option, she sent you to live with your uncle who ran a secondhand bookshop in a small town not too far from the city. She filled him in with what happened and pleaded for him to help you “recover”.
“Don’t worry little sis,” he assured your mother. He threw an arm around you, “I’ll take care of him like he’s my own son. We’ll get along, won’t we?”
Park Sang-hoon—the people living in the area called him “the librarian”—was your mother’s older brother. You hadn’t seen him since you graduated from middle school, and he’d certainly aged from the last time you saw him. The hair that was once jet black and slicked back was turning white and receding. The same friendly complexion remained however, the amiable smile that you remembered greeting you when he opened the door to his house. It was a stone's throw away from the bookstore.
The house and the business had been imparted upon him by your grandparents. It was relatively small, but there was enough room for the two of you to live with your own privacy (though that didn't really matter since he’d just come barging into the room you stayed in anyway.)
The door to your room flung open. “Hey kid! Rise and shine!”
You grumbled something incoherent and pulled the blanket over your head. 
“Up! Up! It’s time to get up!” your uncle bellowed in a sing-song tone, “there are so many things to see and do! Get up you lazy child!”
Your blanket was yanked off your entire body.
“Is this really necessary?” you snapped. Your uncle grinned.
“No. But it’s fun,” he beamed. You rolled your eyes and rolled onto your left side, you back facing him, 
“Leave me alone…” you muttered, “let me sleep…”
“I’ve been letting you do that for the past week,” your uncle huffed, “now your mother is calling me, demanding to know if you’d even emerged from this room. She said some mean things to me, you know?”
You sighed and turned onto your back. “I’ll go out tomorrow…”
Your uncle sighed. “Let me tell you something…”
Let me tell you something was the signal for you to tune out. “Let me tell you something”, “Let me tell you this”—your uncle always said these before he launched into a long rambling story that really added no value to what he was trying to say. It was either that or he’d leave you with a cryptic message to decipher yourself. You never understood why he did that, it was probably just an old people thing.
By the time he was done with his little storytime, you were still in bed. With another heavy sigh, your uncle said, “fine… If you’re not gonna go anywhere today, at least come and help me with the store.”
Your mind told you to stay in bed, but your body told you that you needed to get outside. You decided to listen to the latter party for once. 
The bookshop was old, one of those shophouses down a stretch of road that townsfolk usually walked past on the daily. Needless to say, the store wasn’t the most appealing from the outside. The inside however—That was something else.
You remembered visiting the bookstore with your mother once or twice. A stack of books nearly fell on you that time, and your uncle was berated rather viciously. He’d definitely made some improvements in the time you were away. The store was warm, cosy and relatively organised. The shelves were evidently a little worn from the years, but they still looked and felt sturdy to the touch.  It was a welcoming environment, the interior bearing a striking resemblance to a bookstore of the early 90s.
“I’ve kept up with the times!” your uncle boasted proudly, “nowadays everyone and their mothers are all into this retro aesthetic, so I made sure to keep as much of the hip and cool retro feel.”
Your uncle definitely did his research. You couldn’t help but look upon the shelves filled with books with awe. “This is…”
“Pretty lit, am I right?” your uncle grinned. You cringed.
Your uncle frowned. “What? Did I not use the phrase correctly?”
“N-No it’s just… Ah whatever,” you muttered.
“Damn… I swear I had the meaning for that one down,” your uncle muttered, “the slang of the youth… Such an odd thing.”
After giving you a little more time to admire the place, your uncle tossed you an apron and instructed you to put it on. 
“I’m alright with letting you stay with me for free,” your uncle told you as he helped you tie the strings of the apron behind your back, “but I won’t let you wallow in this post-breakup sadness all day.”
He spun you around, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly. “You just graduated from highschool, no?”
You nodded. 
“Perfect, you’ll need some job experience then,” he grinned, “from now on. You’ll work for me till your stay here is over!”
And so it began. From that day onwards, you started filling shelves, dusting books, pasting on price tags and flipping through pages of books that had been sold to the store to assess the state of the book. It was far from enjoyable in the beginning. It felt akin to the life of Andy Dufrane in Shawshank redemption, the same old routine repeated day after day in what felt like an endless cycle. You were up early in the morning to open the shop with your uncle, the brown apron on your person by 7am in the morning and the door to the shop open by 9am after you were with the opening up preparations. You had to flip the plastic sign hanging on the door from “open” to “closed” every morning, and from “open” back to “closed” in the late evenings. Lunch was usually around 12pm, where your uncle would go out to one of the nearby restaurants to get lunch for the two of you. You’d sit opposite each other in the small break room that sat behind the counter, munching on whatever he bought. 
Handling customers was also another gruelling task. You admittedly didn’t have a voracious appetite for books, many authors sounding foreign to you. A good majority of the books that the store had on hand were classics from esteemed authors, varying in language, length and appeal. When customers asked you what you’d recommend, you could only shrug, earning yourself a nasty gare before they walked off. When they asked about the disparity between the prices of the same book, you could only stare blankly before calling to your uncle.The store had duplicates of some books, the only thing separating the copies being the cover art or the type of book cover. 
“Let me tell you something,” your uncle had told you one fine day, “hardcover books are much more valuable than the usual soft cover books. You want to know why?”
That last part wasn’t a question, rather more of a filler. Apparently, a hardcover was typically more durable, allowing it to better protect the pages within. This meant that the book would stay in better condition for longer. Ultimately, the process and materials needed for hardcover book printing were more expensive, hence this cost is passed on to readers. 
“Capitalism,” you muttered, placing the hardcover version of Greek Lessons by Han Kang on the shelf. 
As for the cover art—Some covers were objectively more appealing than the other, making the book more valuable. This was the case for Osamu Dazai’s No Longer Human. The two covers looked about the same to you. 
 On some days, you wondered how such an old secondhand bookstore could’ve lasted for so long. There were days where you only sold two books for little Won each, and those were typically on weekdays where some of the townsfolk—usually on the more elderly side—would come through the doors and browse through the books. But on the weekends, you were reminded just how hectic this place could get. The youth from the city loved to flood the shop over the weekends, making the commute from the heart of the country to this small shop in a small town to browse through the seemingly endless selection of books.The line to the counter often snaked out the door and onto the street on those days, and your fingers would be aching by the end of the day—A byproduct of gripping those handles of those paper bags while struggling to get them open.
After a week or two, you got used to the whole routine. It didn’t help to remove the monotony of your tasks however, and you often found yourself wondering how your uncle could run this place on his own for so long. With the memories of your ex still tormenting your mind, you found it hard to focus on your tasks at times. Sometimes, you just didn’t want to get up in the mornings. The dried flowers by your bedside were a constant reminder of the pain. You’d bought them for her on the day that text came, now you couldn’t let go of them.
One evening, your uncle decided to close up the shop a little earlier. It’d been a slow Wednesday, so there was no harm in resting up a little earlier than usual. 
“Come with me,” he told you after he’d locked the shutter in place, “I want to take you somewhere.”
You walked up the stretch with him, walking past the rows of shophouses that lined the street. You saw bookstores that looked similar to your uncle’s a couple of times, prompting you to wonder just how many people sold secondhand books on this stretch. 
He took you to a small bridge at the end of the road. It was one of those old, traditional Korean bridges with the stone tiling that arched over the water. He took you up to its apex and made you look out into the water. 
“What do you see?” he asked you.
“Is this one of those stupid lectures again?” you muttered.
“Just answer me.”
You sighed. “I see the water and some trees.”
“Good. What else?” he urged. 
“There’s nothing else,” you told him.
“Wrong. Look again.”
You rolled your eyes and set your sights a little further. “I see Cogongrass.”
“What else?”
You were certain that this was one of his stupid little talks again. “Just tell me what you want to say, uncle!”
“Always so impatient…” he chuckled.
Gently, he grabbed your chin and tipped it up. With his other hand, he pointed out into the distance—Past the trees, water, the cogon grass and the roofs of the shophouses. There, you saw the mountains and the roads that stretched for kilometres, the faint shape of those big blue signs that pointed you in the directions to different places.
“You limit yourself to what you see in this area,” he explained, “but you fail to see past this river and this small town.”
He turned you back to face him. You were a little taller than him, so he had to look up at you. He placed both his hands on your shoulders, holding them firmly. 
“You must learn to set your sights further, dear nephew,” he told you, “learn to see past the trees and the water in your mind. Then and only then, will you be able to live once more.” 
The cryptic message left you admittedly puzzled on the way home. It took you some thinking to read between the lines and understand what your uncle had told you—You had to look past the memories of your ex in order to move on with your life. 
“Excellent,” your uncle had praised when you knocked on his door to ask if your interpretation of his message was correct, “I hope that you can remember this. I hate to see you moping around my store. It scares my customers away too!”
Your first step in looking past the memories was to toss out the dried flowers from your bedside. Even though it was painful, you did it. You knew you needed to.
In its place by your bedside, you bought an alarm clock—one of those old ones that still used the hammers to knock the two small bells—And a framed photograph of the town. You bought both of them from one of the nice old ladies who ran a souvenir shop just down the road. 
It was the start of a new beginning. It felt like you were human once more.
***
Dried Persimmon.
That was what you were munching on when you were handed your first paycheck from your uncle.
“W-Why are you paying me?” you stammered, “I-I thought this was just something to occupy my time!”
“I may be cheap, but I won’t exploit my own nephew!” your uncle laughed, “now quit sneaking snacks on your shift and get back to work!” 
You knew that your uncle was generous, but you never expected him to be this generous. With a smile, you wiped the bits of the dried fruit from the corners of your lips before pocketing the envelope. 
“Thanks,” you beamed. You raised the small jar of dried persimmons and asked, “want one?”
“Tsk. I’m a professional, I don’t eat on my shift,” he sneered. 
“You sure?” you confirmed, “this is a fresh batch from Miss Cho’s…”
“From Miss Cho’s?” he gasped, “gimme some of that!”
You had become well acquainted with the townsfolk, especially with the ones that ran the stores on the same stretch as the bookstore. Sometimes, the sweet old ladies from down the road would come in to deliver some gifts to you and your uncle. Everyone seemed to be friends in this town. Miss Cho was one of the many townsfolk that specialised in dried goods. A sweet lady really, a little older than your mother but not as old as your uncle. Persimmons were seasonal fruits, so they were naturally high in demand in late spring. 
You let your uncle take one piece of the dried fruit before closing the lid and setting it atop the table in the break room. Your uncle stepped aside to let you exit, and you went to continue your shift. 
Surprisingly, it didn’t take too long to move on from your ex. Yes, you did share some fond memories with her, but you found these “core memories” made with her easy to forget. She no longer appeared in your dreams, neither did you think about her when you were going about your tasks. She’d become a distant pain, a pain that you never intend to revisit. 
Once, she did happen to come by the bookstore on a weekend. She walked into the crowded store, hand in hand with a brand new boyfriend while you were calculating somebody’s purchase. You caught yourself staring at her as she browsed through the books, her boyfriend lingering close by as he read over her shoulder. It was then that your uncle firmly grabbed you by the shoulder. He’d seen pictures of her. He could recognise her on sight
“Look past the trees and the water,” he reminded you, before going back to checking out books. You tore away your gaze from them and continued with your work.
When she came out to the counter to pay, the look of shock on her face almost made you want to double over in laughter. Swiftly and wordlessly, you took her books and packaged them neatly in a bag. 
“That will be forty-thousand Won ma’am,” you had smiled respectfully. She was still staring at you, her mouth open in the shape of an “o”.  Her boyfriend had to pay and take the goods from you before directing her out of the store. 
When they left, your uncle gave you a gentle pat on your hand. Well done was what he was trying to say. 
True to your uncle’s lesson, once you had gotten over her, you felt like you were alive. You found that you quickly took a liking to this new lifestyle, immersing yourself in the wide array of books that were at your disposal and even taking home a few to read. It felt like a fresh new chapter had begun in your life, and you were more than ready to welcome its start. The monotony was now welcomed in this slower-paced segment of your life.
“By the way,” your uncle called to you as you set down a box of books. He’d just bought them off a guy moving overseas. “I have a feeling that business will start to pick up soon!’
“Why’s that?” you asked.
“You’ll see…” he smiled. He popped another dried persimmon into his mouth. “Damn! This batch is bussin!”
You cringed. You could get used to life in this small town, but you knew that you’d never get used to your uncle throwing out the slang of your generation. You wondered if he had Tik Tok on his phone or if he’d seen one too many Instagram reels.
With your box cutter, you cut open the tape that sealed the cardboard box, the one that housed the goods. You opened the box. 
“The hell…” you muttered as you stared at the books within, “who did you get these off?”
“Some preschool principal. What’s up?” your uncle asked. 
You produced one of the many alarmingly thin books from the box. “Hate to break it to you but… These are all children’s books.”
Your uncle was never one to swear, but he made a rare exception for that moment. 
“Fuck!” he cussed rather loudly, “I should’ve asked what the contents were!”
You chuckled and placed the book back into the cardboard box. “Don’t worry uncle, we can always sell these to the daycare, can’t we?”
“Bourgeoisie scumbag! I paid a lot for that!” your uncle continued to ramble. You decided that it would be best to silently push the box into the storeroom while he let his frustrations out.
***
Dried leaves. 
That's what you were sweeping when a black van rolled into the stretch of street. The front doors opened and a man and a woman stepped out. It was early autumn. The leaves of those trees that grew next to the bookstore—Once beautiful and elegant in nature—became pesky as their leaves had begun to wither and fall. Your uncle saw the mess outside the store and immediately got you to start sweeping it up. He couldn’t stand the sight of it.
You halted your broom as the man and woman approached you. 
“Hello,” the woman greeted you, “is this Park’s second hand books?” 
You nodded and pointed at the sign above you. The woman grinned. She turned and told the man to get the gear out. 
You recognised the city accent in their voices. 
The man wrapped around the vehicle and opened the trunk. You tried to look into the van but found that the tinted windows didn’t let you see anything. The man came back around, a heavy video camera—those ones they used to film movies—on his shoulder. The woman approached the door of the van and pulled it open. 
Five girls got out of the van, selfie sticks with Gopros attached to the end in their hands as they filed out of the vehicle one by one. It took a moment for you to recognize the five of them, and another moment to realise that there were global superstars standing right before you. 
In a wordless panic, you dropped the broom and bolted into the store. Your uncle was behind the counter, counting the bills in the cash register when you called him.
“ITZY is in front of the store!” you exclaimed. Your uncle cocked his head.
“ITZY?” he inquired, “is that a new slang or something?”
“N-No! T-Their idols, uncle! There are idols outside the door!” 
It took a moment for your uncle to process what you’d said. Then, he simply smiled. 
“Right… I forgot to tell you about that,” he said. He placed the bills he had been counting back into the register and walked out from behind the counter. 
“Oooh… These girls are much prettier in person,” your uncle mused as he walked by. He opened the door to the store and stepped outside. You could hear his booming voice through the open door. “HELLO! WELCOME! WELCOME!” 
You could hear them exchanging greetings outside the store. Hurriedly, you scanned around the store, looking for any signs of mess. There were thankfully none.
“Come in! It’s rather cold out,” your uncle said, “it’s much warmer in here!”
You quickly stood up straighter, your hands by your sides as the five ITZY girls walked through the door of the store. 
“Welcome to the store!” your uncle grinned, “that over there is my nephew, he runs the place with me for now.”
The girls turned. The feeling of five pairs of eyes on you was nerve-wracking, and the two cameras that started to flank you on either side weren’t helping to ease your nerves. Where did the second camera come from? You couldn’t help but wonder.
You gulped, a tug of war between waving and bowing to the girls ensuing in your head as you stared blankly. 
“He’s uh… A little shy,” your uncle chuckled. Then he gave you a look, one that said hurry up and say hello you dense child.
There was no victor in the mental tug of war. In the end, you resorted to an awkward half wave, half bow. The girls sniggered at your greeting.
Then and there, you wanted to shrink down and hide in the shelf behind you. 
The woman from earlier started speaking to the girls. “This is the final place. Now, we will draw lots to see who goes where!”
She produced a handful of popsicle sticks. The girls started talking about how nervous they were, giggling amongst themselves as they started to draw the sticks one by one. Your uncle stood by the woman, a small smile on his face as he patiently awaited the result.
“Oh. Looks like I’ll be working here!” Shin Yuna smiled as she looked at her stick. You weren’t sure if it was excitement or disappointment that you heard in her voice. 
“Excellent!” your uncle beamed. “How old are you?”
“Nineteen going twenty, sir!” Yuna answered bubbly. 
“Ah! Looks like my nephew will have a friend of his age then!” your uncle laughed. 
“E-Eh?” you blurted, “w-what’s happening?”
Your uncle walked up next to you. He put an arm around your shoulder.
“I’ll explain later,” he whispered.
Yuna giggled and cleared the hair from her face. You made eye contact with her. 
She grinned. 
You felt a burning sensation on your face. 
***
Dried Pollack soup.
That was what you ate with your uncle as people came in to set up cameras around the store. Every corner, every angle, every millimetre was covered by at least one Gopro.
“They said in the email that it was for their Youtube,” your uncle told you, “they're gonna live in this town for a bit, work at some of the stores… Taking a break from their idol activities apparently.”
“B-But why the bookstore?” you inquired. Your uncle shrugged.
“I don’t know. They sent me a 30 page proposal that I didn’t bother to read. I figured that having idols in our store would help boost our business. Get people from other parts to come here—You know what I’m saying?” 
You did not know what he was saying. The whole situation was so overwhelming. An idol working at the bookstore? For how long? What did you need to do?
A knock came on the break room door. You turned and saw a man standing there, Gopro in hand.
“Sorry to disturb you, but can I put a camera in here?” he asked politely. 
Your uncle gave him a look and asked, “is that completely necessary?”
“I-I mean… If you guys are okay with it,” you replied. Your uncle sighed.
“Take the soup out,” he instructed you, “give them space to set up…”
***
A very, very dry mouth. 
That's what you had when Yuna walked into the store for her first day of work. 
She was tailed by one cameraman and another woman, both of them wearing the same shirt that read “JYP CREW”. You could feel the cold sweat on your palms as you handed her the apron that already had her name tag on it. With a rather apparent stutter, you welcomed her to her new job. She smiled, that radiant smile that you’d only seen on your phone screen now right before you. It sent a warm fuzz down your spine. 
Your uncle showed her around, breaking down the various jobs to her as you opened up a box of books—they weren’t children’s books this time—and got to filling the shelves. You could hear every word that came out from your uncle's mouth as you explained the tasks that the idol was to undertake, as well as the opening and closing timings of the store. He finished his run down just as you finished placing the last book from the box on the shelf.
“What should I do now?” you heard her ask. 
“Go help my nephew. I think he could use a hand,” your uncle replied.
“Right! On it!” came her bubbly reply. 
You could feel your heart beating faster as you felt her get closer and closer. 
A tap on your shoulder.
“Hello!’ she greeted you, “let’s work well together!”
You managed to sputter out something. She asked for instructions on what she should do. You blanked out for a second. Then tremulously, you reached into your apron and pulled out the second box cutter. 
“U-Um,” you began. “T-There’s a box of… B-Books in the store… Just… Just uh…”
Her gaze felt piercing even though it was gentle. It’d been awhile since you’d stood before a girl this gorgeous. Your nineteen-year-old hormones were getting to you, sweat beading your forehead as you struggled to give the idol instructions. 
Then suddenly, you ran away. You didn’t know why you ran, but you just ran out of the store and down the street. Getting away from the store was your main task, and you ran quite a good distance in the chilly autumn air before you finally ran out of breath. Clammy, tense and exhausted, you rested outside one of the shophouses along the stretch. 
“Fuck… What’s wrong with me?” you questioned yourself. It was like you’d never talked to a girl in your life. 
It only took a second or two for the adrenaline to fade. In its place came embarrassment as you buried your face in your hands. What are you doing you stupid idiot! Why did you run? You chided yourself, beating your cheek with your own palm. 
You heard someone call your name. You raised your head.
“Why are you slapping yourself in front of my store?” Miss Cho inquired. She was pushing a cart full of pears. They were probably freshly harvested. 
“Oh… Hey Miss Cho,” you greeted her, “I was just… I-I don’t know…”
You ended up pushing Miss Cho’s cart back up the street. 
“She’s a what now?” Miss Cho pressed.
“An idol Miss Cho,” you explained. You eventually got around to telling her the reason as to why you were beating yourself in front of her shop. The concept of someone singing and dancing for a living sounded completely foreign to Miss Cho—Someone who spent most of her life drying fruits and making snacks—So you had to explain it to her. 
“Ah… I remember my daughter saying something about it,” Miss Cho mused, “so… Why did you run away from her?”
“I… Don’t know,” you told her truthfully, “I guess I just freaked out.”
“Because she’s famous?” she pressed. You thought about it for a moment, then you nodded.
Miss Cho stopped addressing you for a moment to greet Mrs Han, the lady that ran one of the restaurants on the stretch with her husband. Miss Cho gave the restaurant owner a whole carton worth of pears, telling Mrs Han to make something tasty out of them before the two of you continued moving along.
“Why are you scared of an Idol?” she continued to question.
“I-I don’t know… I-I guess it’s because she’s popular and all, so I’m scared that I’ll make a fool of myself in front of her,” you reasoned. 
Miss Cho hummed and nodded. “I see…” 
She stopped once more, this time in front of the sweets store. You helped her pull out a crate of apples from the bottom of the stacks of pears and handed it to the store owner. Miss Cho requested for a batch of the sweets when they were ready before the two of you got to moving again. 
“So… Why does this girl being this idol make her any less normal than you?” she asked. 
“P-Pardon?” you stuttered, “I-I never… I never said that…”
Miss Cho chuckled, one of those nice Ahjumma laughs that could warm one’s heart. “You did not, but the way you spoke of her implied it.”
You let that sink in for a moment. Now that you thought of it, you’d made Yuna sound like some high and mighty god that could smite you with a snap of her fingers.
“Just because someone has millions of fans doesn't mean that they’re any less of a human than you and I,” Miss Cho told you, “just because someone is adored doesn't make them more superior. If that was the case, I’d be a warlord by now!”
The dried fruits specialist cackled at her own joke. She always had a tendency to do that.
“You see… The problem with fame is that everyone places you on a pedestal,” she continued, “a mistake could cost your whole reputation. A good choice could gain you more popularity. It’s a never ending game, dehumanising in the sense that these famous people can’t afford to live normal lives. Why? Because they’re not considered normal! That’s not right if you ask me…”
You were wondering where this knowledge was coming from. You made it a mental note to talk to Miss Cho a little more. Was it normal for all the old people in this town to be so wise?
The two of you finally stopped in front of the bookshop. Miss Cho instructed you to take in a crate of pears, assuring you that she could make the rest of the journey down the street herself. You waved goodbye to her and prepared to enter once more.
“Remember,” she called to you. You were just about to open the door. “That girl is human. Treat her the way you’d treat any other human.”
She left you with that nugget of wisdom before she bade you farewell and continued with her journey up the street. You sat on her words for a moment before you entered the bookstore once more. 
Yuna’s head snapped towards the door when she heard the chime of the door. You made eye contact with her. 
Human. 
With a smile, you carried the crate into the store and asked, “pears anyone?”
***
A dry wipe. 
That’s what you gave Yuna to clean the dust off the shelves. Two weeks had elapsed since she’d started working with you and your uncle. You never got used to the fact that there were always cameras around you, nor did you ever get used to the fact that the woman and the cameraman would pull you aside and ask for your opinions on Yuna as an employee every now and then. You would always try to be as honest as possible, excluding any embarrassing slip ups she made in an effort to not badmouth the girl.
Within her first week here, she’d already clocked in late once. She apologised furiously that day, working twice as hard to compensate for her mistake. Standing tall, she could reach for the things that customers couldn’t, making her a great help to the regulars. She learnt quickly, finding the most optimal way to replenish the shelves by her fourth day and figured out the best way to assess the state of the book on her fifth.
Weekends had become more packed because of her, the word that Shin Yuna from ITZY was working at the store getting out rather quickly within the first Saturday she worked here. The next day, you had a flock of Midzy’s in front of the store 3 hours before opening. You had to guide Yuna in through the back entrance to prevent her from being swarmed. While Yuna greeted her fans that came to see her in the store with a big smile, you couldn’t help but notice the hint of tiredness behind her eyes. It was like she didn’t really want to be there, but she had no other choice
Now, she was doing an excellent job getting the dust off the top shelves. 
“I think that’s good enough Yuna,” you told her. She turned to look at you.
“You sure? I think it still needs one more round,” she told you.
“I’ll take your word for it,” you told her, handing her another sheet of dry wipes while you took the blackened one from her hands.
“This is great,” she told you, beginning her final round of cleaning, “it makes me feel like I’m at home again. I feel like I’m a kid.”
Here’s the thing about Yuna—Her joy was contagious. When you saw that smile on her face, you couldn’t help but smile along with her. The silliest things could make her grin, and you’d end up grinning with her even though you didn’t find it amusing. You were convinced that it was a special skill of the sort. 
Yuna wiped up whatever dust she could find, leaving no stone unturned as she completed her task. It was almost closing time, a relatively slow day for the bookstore as usual. Yuna had been completing her shifts diligently, only ever disappearing for lunch and toilet breaks. 
Hell… If she wasn’t some bigshot idol, I’d have her employed full-time in a heartbeat! your uncle had told you over lunch one day. You couldn’t help but agree with him. 
“There! All clean!” Yuna exclaimed. 
“Could you show us the cloth, Yuna?” the lady producer asked her. 
For a moment, you saw a hint of annoyance behind her eyes. Then the usual, childlike wonder took its place and Yuna presented the cloth to the camera.
“Ta-da! All clean!” she beamed proudly. You politely clapped your hands in the background. The female producer gave Yuna a thumbs up before tapping the cameraman’s shoulder. “I think we can wrap up for the day.”
The two turned and walked out of the store. Yuna waited till both of them had exited before letting out a deep sigh. 
“Break from idol activities? Yea right…” she muttered, stepping off the step ladder. You stretched out your hand to take the dry wipe from Yuna. She suddenly seemed to remember that you were there, and that bright smile returned to her face. She handed you the dry wipe, all bubbly and smiley.
“I’m going to wash my hands in the bathroom, boss!” she told you. You nodded and let her go. She skipped off towards the back entrance. Your uncle walked out of the storeroom. He was drenched in sweat, his green shirt turning dark under the moisture.
“Hand me a towel would you?” he requested. You quickly walked behind the counter and tossed him his slightly moist towel. He caught it, smiled, then wiped his sweaty face.
“Who knew organising could take so much out of me?” he chuckled. He looked around. “Where’s Yuna?”
“Bathroom,” you explained. Your uncle gave you his Ah I see expression. Then he took a look at his watch. “Let’s get ready to close up shop.”
You nodded and walked over to the door. As you were about to flip the sign from “open” to “closed”, you saw Yuna walking back towards the shop. You raised an eyebrow.
Coming in from the back would’ve been much quicker…
As she got closer, you could make out the tired look on her face. Then you realised that the cameraman and the female producer were following her once more. So much for wrapping up you thought to yourself as you pushed the door open.
“Yuna!” you called to her, “come in! We’re gonna start closing up!”
The weary look disappeared in a flash. Yuna smiled from ear to ear and began jogging towards the store. You found that the cameraman and producer were far from wrapping up, following the idol back into the bookshop like chicks tailing their mother. 
“H-Hey um… Didn’t you guys say you were wrapping up?” you asked the producer. She turned and looked at you.
“We need as much content as we can get. Gotta keep going,” she told you. Then she left to catch up with the camera man. You were suddenly ill at ease. 
They continued to follow Yuna as she assisted you and your uncle in closing up the shop. They were like shadows, tailing the idol with every move she made. There was an unmistakable look of irritance on Yuna's face, but she only let it out when her back was turned to the camera. At the end of it all, the female producer made the idol shoot a thumbs up to the camera and exclaim, “Another job well done today!”. Only when they had gotten a perfect take of that did they truly cut the camera and start packing up for the day. 
“Try to be a little more energetic tomorrow,” the producer told Yuna. You were all outside the store by then. The shutter was closed and locked. The final piece of equipment had been loaded into their van.
“Got it!” Yuna beamed. The producer nodded and wordlessly got into the van with the camera man. The van pulled away, leaving the three of you to breathe in its exhaust as it became smaller and smaller.
“This street was never built for cars…” your uncle grumbled. Then he turned to Yuna and told her, “good job today. We’ll see you tomorrow!”
Yuna smiled—this time a little less bright and more weary—and bowed. “Thank you for today! I’ll see you tomorrow!”
The idol turned on her heel and walked off towards the small house that she and her members stayed in for the time being. You couldn’t help but notice the way her shoulders seemed to slump. 
“Are we overworking her?” your uncle asked. He must’ve noticed too.
“I’m not sure,” you answered, “I feel like it’s not the work…”
Your uncle raised an eyebrow. “What else could wear her out today? She’s been cleaning and stacking all day!”
You pursed your lips. Then, you turned to your uncle and said, “go home without me. I need to do something.”
You set off after the idol. She hadn’t walked too far over the course of your conversation with your uncle. You caught up to her in a matter of seconds.
“Yuna!” you called her. She turned.
“Hm?” she hummed. 
You stopped before her. “Could I… Take you somewhere?”
You only realised how weird that sounded after the last syllable left your mouth. Inwardly, you cringed and hoped to god that she didn’t find that creepy. Thankfully, she gave you a smile and said, “sure!”
You took her to the bridge where your uncle had imparted his wisdom upon you. The walk there was filled with awkward silence, only broken erratically by your comments on the different shops. In the chilly Autumn air, you walked side by side with Yuna till you reached your destination.
“Wow…” Yuna muttered as you stopped at the apex of the bridge, “this is…”
“It’s prettier in Spring,” you told her.
“I can imagine that,” she whispered. 
She placed her hands on the railings and leaned her body weight against it. You silently stood next to her, letting her take in the breathtaking scenery without disturbance. You had a hunch—The fact that cameras were always on her had been taking a toll on the idol. You figured she needed some time away from the cameras, a moment where she didn’t have to live with the fact that she was perpetually in the frame of a lens that was recording her every move. 
You didn’t know what to do when the first teardrop came rolling down her face. When her body started to shake, you started to panic internally. That wasn’t part of the agenda. You awkwardly fumbled around, patting your pockets to see if you had any tissue to give her. By the time you had pulled out the small tissue packet from your pocket, the girl was already seated on the bridge, knees tucked in and arms locked around her legs as she bawled and bawled. Awkwardly, you sat down next to her. You maintained a distance from Yuna and silently slid your tissue over to her. The last thing you wanted to do was make her feel uncomfortable in her moment of vulnerability. 
You gave her time. Breakdowns like hers would never be finished in a matter of minutes, you knew from experience. The sheer internal bedlam a human could experience under certain circumstances was no joke.
It took some time, but her shoulders eventually stopped heaving so violently, her breaths becoming more uniformed in nature. 
“I-I’m sorry… I-I just…” she started to apologise. 
“It’s… It’s alright,” you assured her, “it… It must be tough for you.”
You gestured to the packet of tissue next to her. She gratefully accepted it, pulling out a couple of pieces to dry her eyes. There were no more words spoken between the two of you, only an odd, comfortably awkward silence in the air as you both sat with your backs to the railing. Yuna sniffled intermittently, and you could hear her drawing tissues to blow her nose. 
You didn’t say anything to comfort her. But that day, you unwittingly made her start trusting you.
***
Dried apple slices. 
That’s what Yuna had bought to share with you. She’d gotten them from Miss Cho’s, and had asked to eat them with you on the bridge after your shifts had ended.
“These are so good!” she exclaimed.
“Miss Cho’s family spent lifetimes perfecting their formula. It’s gotta be good,” you told her.
Yuna squealed happily as she dug her hand into the container and pulled out yet another slice. You could pinpoint the exact moment where the flavour of Miss Cho’s apple slices burst forth in her mouth. Her wide-eyed silent glee was your indication. On the railing of the bridge you sat, side by side with the idol. There was an unexplained affinity between you two since that day she cried next to you. Your interactions in the bookstore had increased, becoming friendlier in nature. It was like something suddenly clicked between the two of you.
“Man… These things make me want to live here forever!” Yuna laughed, kicking her legs like a child as she dug her hand into the container for yet another slice. You smiled as you watched her. She seemed more carefree that day.
“You’re from the city, right?” she asked you, popping another slice into her mouth.
“Yep… I’m just staying here for a while,” you explained to her. 
“Don’t you have to search for a university?” 
You kicked your legs and sighed. “I do… But that can always wait.”
Your truth—You didn’t want to leave this town. Life was much simpler, slower. You’d originally come here to recover, hatred and bitterness brimming in your heart. Now that it had been purged from your being, you found a connection with this humble, small town. You knew that you’d eventually have to leave, go back into the hustle and bustle of the city when you got back to your life as a city boy. You dreaded the arrival of that day. 
You told this to her. A look of understanding crossed her face.
“How long have you been here?” she asked. 
“Since early Spring so… About a month now?” you replied. 
“Ah… And what’s this bitterness that you had?” she pressed. 
You took a dried apple slice and popped it into your mouth. You munched on it a little before replying, “I had to recover from a breakup.”
Yuna chuckled. “Ah… I suppose this place seems like a nice town to get back on your feet.”
You were glad she understood you. 
“You know… This spot is really something,” she told you, “it’s so beautiful and calming… I really gotta thank you for showing it to me.”
You waved it off. “No problem.”
Yuna folded one leg up. “I came here with the girls once after that evening. It was a good break.”
She sighed heavily. You wiped your hand on your jeans.
“It must be tiring,” you said.
“Hm?”
She turned to look at you intently. You stared at your sneakers. The once snow white shoes had been dirtied by gravel and all sorts of elements, but you didn’t really mind. 
“It must be tough living with no breaks… I imagine it can get pretty overwhelming,” you told her. Yuna stared off into the distance for a moment.
“When they told us that we would be coming here to take a break from our idol activities, I thought that we’d actually be able to rest…” she muttered, “then we saw the cameras and got handed those damn selfie sticks… That’s when I knew that we were just making more content while we’re supposedly ‘resting’.”
You could hear the spite in her voice. Your heart went out to her. 
“I hate this,” she continued, “I just want to have a moment where I’m not dancing, where I’m not singing, where I’m not being recorded by some stupid fucking camera while I keep some pretty smile on my face.”
Her truth—There were times where she wondered whether the idol life was meant for her. While they existed, she couldn’t recall the last moment where she was just Shin Yuna, a regular nineteen year old girl finding her way in life. She liked the bookstore, it made her feel human. While she was going about her tasks, the sheer monotony of it all brought some semblance of regularity into her life. For a rare moment, she wasn’t just some money making machine for a company, she was just a regular human, like you. It gave her an unexplainable joy, a joy that was quickly stripped away when she turned and saw a camera being pointed right at her.
She told you this in hew own words. You bit your bottom lip.
“But of course, I can’t let that show, can I?” she laughed bitterly, “gotta be pretty preppy princess Yuna. Can’t be angry, can’t be annoyed, allowed to cry only in concerts or in interviews… Fuck all this idol shit.”
Her life didn’t sound as great as you’d imagined. You admittedly thought that many idols lived in luxury, showered with love and attention from fans worldwide while earning big bucks doing what they always aspired to. In reality, their lives were the most cruel and unforgiving, an endless cycle of practice, classes and content. They were always being watched and monitored. They maintained a happy, cheerful image for their fans, but deep down they just want to take a break for some time before coming back to this life of theirs. It sucked. It sucked big time, but they all lived with it.
The harm that humans could bring upon each other was frightening, yet the world was as such. 
“I think you’re incredibly strong Yuna,” you voiced your sincere thoughts, “it takes a lot to be you. I don’t think many people can confidently look me in the eye and tell me that they’re fine with being watched twenty-four-seven, let alone pretend like everything is great with their life when it really isn’t.”
There was a moment of silence. 
“Thank you,” she whispered, “I… I think I really needed to hear that. You summed it up really well.”
She shot you a sincere smile. You chuckled softly and scratched the nape of your neck. There was a warm sensation on your face. 
“You’re… Welcome I guess?” you told her. She laughed at that.
“You’re funny,” she remarked, “I like your company.”
The warmth on your face was now more of a burning sensation. You looked down at your sneakers, feeling a grin plastered on your lips. Her smile was as contagious as her joy. 
“How… How long are you guys gonna be here for?” you asked her.
“I forgot... I only know that we’ll go back for Chuseok, then come back here for a few more weeks. We’ll be out of here by the middle of November if I recall correctly, then back to comeback preparation in early Winter,” she replied.
Time was a funny thing. It could go by so fast when you wanted it to be slow, but it could also drag on like a snail when you wanted it to be a rabbit. Time was a wave, almost cruel in its relentlessness.
In your heart, you prayed that Yuna’s time in this town wouldn’t be fleeting. In your heart, you prayed that time could show mercy on this girl.
***
Dried anchovies. 
That’s what your uncle needed from Miss Lee, the general store owner, to cook the stew for that night's dinner.  You shrugged on your jacket that evening and headed down to go buy what was needed. Mrs Lee greeted you with the usual warm smile, though you could tell that the Gopro on the counter was making her ill at ease. 
The ITZY girls were there, talking amongst themselves as a camera man and a different lady producer stood behind them. You did your best to slip by undetected, snagging the bag of dried anchovies and a bottle of water without being spotted. You didn’t know that they’d follow them till this late. 
You paid for the good and exited quietly. On the way back, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You spun around to come face to face with Yuna. 
“Hey,” she beamed. She must’ve seen you. How did she get out?
“Oh. Hey,” you smiled back. 
“Can we meet at the bridge later? I’d like to get some fresh air after my dinner,” she requested.
You smiled and agreed. You set a time, then split off in your own separate ways to go about your evenings. You couldn’t really focus on your uncle’s rambling that night, you mind drifting to Yuna’s smile while your uncle said something about the stock market. 
9pm. That was the time you’d arranged to see her. On the pretext of taking a walk, you slipped out of your uncle's house and journeyed down the street towards the bridge. She was there by the time you’d gotten there, a bright smile that could light up the darkness gracing her features when she caught sight of you. She let you walk over to her before handing you something. It felt like a stick.
“What are these?” you asked. 
“Lanterns,” she answered, turning hers on, “Chuseok is coming up. The Chinese like to carry lanterns and take walks on that day. I thought we should do something while I’m still in this town, make some memories, you know?”
The lanterns she had purchased were from Mrs Lee’s general store. Mrs Lee had always been obsessed with Chinese culture, particularly in terms of decorations and practices. She sold those lanterns all year round, even though no one really bothered to buy them.
You and Yuna walked around the town with your lanterns, talking and laughing, laughing and talking… It was a night to be alive. It was nice to see Yuna in this light. You’d grown out of your 2 dimensional perception of her, discovering the multitudes she possessed. On the surface, she was simply Shin Yuna, ITZY’s maknae and visual. Beneath that, there was Shin Yuna, the nineteen year old girl who could easily make someone smile and blush. Then beneath that was Shin Yuna, a nineteen year old girl who craved regularity, a nineteen year old girl who wanted to be momentarily freed from the glitz and glam. You were happy that she trusted you enough to be comfortable around you, and you were more than happy to have that gut feeling that she was truly being herself with you. 
“This town is amazing…” she remarked as you found yourselves before the bridge once more. You’d walked a full round around the town by then, lost in conversation as you took turns down the roads on a whim. 
“Maybe you should just move here,” you joked. 
“Oh how I wish I could!” she sighed, “everything’s so nice here… I wish I could just stay here forever…”
I wish I could stay here forever. She always had a tendency to say that. While working in the bookstore, she’d let it slip. When you were talking with her on the bridge, she’d say it at least once. She struck you as someone who was vocal with their opinions, someone who would freely speak her mind if she could. You enjoyed listening to her long, rambling talks about her various life stories. Though you could never bear to listen to such rants from your uncle, you found hers enjoyable to listen to. There was a certain way she drew you in with her voice, your attention becoming captive to her tone and intonation while she went on and on… 
When you parted ways with her that night, you found that you wanted her to stay and talk with you a little longer. Of course, you never vocalised this desire. She’d already broken rules to come out and see you that night, the last thing you wanted was to get her in trouble. 
As you walked home with your lantern that night, you wondered what it would be like to date a girl like Yuna.
***
Drier air.
That’s what you felt had changed that late October morning when you stepped out of your uncle’s house. 
“Aish… Winter is coming already,” your uncle grumbled, “time passes so fast these days… I ought to keep a better track of it.”
It was Yuna’s final weekend in the town. She was due to leave by Tuesday next week. As expected, Midzys showed up in front of the door, prompting your uncle and you to wrap around to the back entrance, where Yuna was waiting. The female producer and the cameraman were right there with her, asking the idol some questions in front of the backdoor as you and your uncle approached. Her eyes seemed to light up upon the sight of you, the smile on her face growing wider as she waved to you. 
“Yuna, focus on the interview,” the producer reminded her sternly. She quickly set her gaze back on the camera. Your uncle waited patiently for them to wrap up with their questions before opening the backdoor to the bookshop. As you walked in, Yuna walked up to your right and whispered right into your ear.  “10pm. Bridge. Don’t be late.”
You’d never wanted a shift to end so badly.
That night, you met her at your usual haunt. Her smile—Usually brimming with joy—was noticeably sadder, dimmer under the moon’s beam. It felt hard to accept that her time in this town was running thin. You wished that there was a way to extend your fleeting time with this woman, find a way to make some more memories with her. Alas, time could only move forward at a rate unknown to you. Autumn was slowly becoming Winter, and Yuna would soon be gone from this town. Every moment was now more precious than ever.
The truth you kept to yourself—Though your heart fluttered around her, you knew that you and her could only remain in this stage of friendship. Progressing forward to a new stage of a relationship would be hard. You could only hold on to her as a friend, hoping that she wouldn’t forget you when she returned back to the big city. 
The two of you stayed out late that night, eating dried fruits from Miss Cho’s and drinking some Makgeolli that Yuna had bought and snuck out. 
“My last day as a human,” she told you that night while cracking open the bottle, “then it’s back to being a doll…”
Human… Why could she never seem to prove to everyone else that she was human as well? The fame, the shining lights, the pedestal that she’d been placed on… They all created a false image for her. It brought forth a notion—She was privileged, someone who could receive the attention of fans and brands alike. There was no room for blemishes, her body “perfect” and her personality flawless. She had to accept all that, live with it without a fuss or hassle. 
When she rambled about this, tears flowed freely from her eyes—Years of pent up anger, sentiments of unfairness and many other emotions coming forth in moonlit steaks that ran down her face. You poured her another glass of Makgeolli. She tossed it back to soothe the pain.
“You know… I always feel so comfortable with you,” she whispered, “it’s like I’m talking to an old friend… Someone who actually understands me.”
Under the stars that night, the two of you admittedly got a little tipsy on the bridge. Under the stars that night, Yuna had let slip her true feelings towards you. Under the stars that night, you two shared a kiss, one that would change the complexity of your relationship, spurred by the raw emotions of the night that had manifested through the catalyst that was alcohol. 
As your fingers ran through her hair and her hands held on to your waist, she leaned on your shoulder and whispered some words into your ear. They weren’t words that you wanted to hear, but you knew that you’d just have to accept them.
It pained the both of you to know that you could never truly love each other the way you wanted to. The expectations of her company and of society set a boundary, one that kept you two so far yet so close. While you saw her as a regular human, she still had to abide by the rules and regulations of the company that controlled her. Those rules defined her, the regulations moulding her into something no longer human. It made her life strict and unforgiving. 
She was like an unwilling puppet, trying in vain to resist the commands of those who had power over her. A sisyphean task it proved to be. 
To them, she was an idol. And according to them—Idols and humans were not to love each other.
***
Dried flowers
That was what you held behind your back that morning where you saw the ITZY girls off. You and your uncle waited outside the house they stayed in, dried flowers tucked away behind you. Then they came out. The five of them, rolling out their luggages, dressed warmly to combat the rapidly dropping temperature. She caught sight of you. A sad, warm, gentle smile crossed her face. The bosses of the shops that the girls had worked for respectively had all come to bid farewell to them, giving you some time to talk to her one last time. The goodbyes were tearful, full of hugs and “I’ll miss you”s. Yuna gave your uncle a hug, then she turned to you. Surprisingly, neither of you shed a tear as you stared at each other. 
You produced the dried flowers that you’d gotten from the florist and presented them to her. 
“They’re beautiful,” she whispered as she accepted them. 
“Glad you like them,” you replied, “try and keep them alive okay?”
She stared up at you for a moment. 
When the first teardrop rolled down her face, you didn’t hesitate to pull her into a hug. She cried into your chest, a million and one apologies bursting forth as she held you tight. It was as if it was her fault that the two of you could not start a proper relationship. It was as if you’d disappear if she didn’t hold you as tight as she could. 
When it was time to go, you dried her eyes to the best of your ability. She gripped the dried flowers tight, a grim look on her face as she said, “I’ll take some time to think about us… When we meet again, I’ll tell you what you mean to me. We can go off from there.”
You smiled. “Alright then, I’ll wait.”
She fiddled with the wrapping of the dried flowers.
“Till then,” Yuna requested, “could I be selfish and ask you to hold on to these feelings?”
You smiled and assured her that you’d try to. When we meet again, I’ll let you decide if we should kiss or not, she told you. 
In the cold morning air, you made a then-and-there decision to share one last kiss with her, not caring about the fact that staff and her other members were present at the scene. As the van took her away from the town, your uncle placed a firm hand on your shoulder.
“Are you going to be okay?” he asked you. 
You wiped a tear from your eye and whispered, “I hope those dried flowers won’t die as quickly as they did last time.”
***
The cold snap hit when you came back to the town. A fresh, fluffy and thick sheet of snow covered the streets. Your boots made a satisfying crunch with each step you took, the frigid winter air biting your face as you hurried towards the bookstore. All around you, people walked up and down the street. City people—you recognised their accents. 
You found it hard to adjust back to life in the city. The roar of the traffic was jarring, making you yearn for the quiet of the town streets. The pavements were jam packed with people, making you long to return to the empty streets of your uncle's humble town. The subway was packed like sardines, making you think about the times where you could get to wherever you wanted on foot. It was safe to say that you had some forms of withdrawal symptoms, but you eventually got over it. Then university came. The workload was immense, the readings mountainous. It took you some time to figure out a way to efficiently cover all the content you needed to, but you eventually found your footing. You were in your last year now. Time was truly so fleeting, a wave, almost cruel in its relentlessness.
Now that you were back in this familiar place, a sense of comfort filled your being. Not much had changed over the course of your four year absence. Aside from the fresh coats of paint and increase in tourists, everything was just as they were when you left. 
The bookshop was teeming with life when you entered. You were pleasantly surprised. You remembered your uncle telling you about how good the winter crowds were, but you ever imagined it to be this good. You hurriedly removed your scarf and coat before approaching the counter. There, your uncle was busy packing book after book into paper bags. You hung your coat on the coat rack and grabbed an apron. 
“I’m back,” you said, taking your place next to your relative. Your uncle cast a glance towards you. 
“I’ll greet you later. Busy now,” he mumbled. You chuckled and tied the strings of your apron behind your back. 
It didn’t take long before you settled back into that old rhythm—Open, pack, take the bills. Open, pack, take the bills. It brought an odd sense of joy into your heart. You’d missed the monotony of this life. 
The bookstore closed a little later that day. You waited till the last customer had slipped out into the cold evening air to flip the sign from “open” to “closed”. Then you shut the door behind you.
“I should really employ a part timer,” your uncle mused. He beat his lower back with a clenched fist. “The crowds are only growing these days… I’ll need some help.”
Then he waddled over you. With a warm smile, your uncle pulled you into a warm embrace. 
“Welcome back, nephew. It’s good to see you again.”
You hugged him back. The usual old people's statements ensued—How have you been? You’ve grown taller! Jeez… You’ve gotten a little more plump! Have you been eating well? The same old questions were hurled at you. You were happy to answer them all. 
You helped your uncle close up shop for the day. To celebrate your return, he took you down to Mrs Han’s to have a barbeque. The restaurant owner greeted you with her wrinkly, warm smile and welcomed you back to town. The meat was fresh, well marbled and tender. Freshly imported Mrs Han had told you, they just came in today! You came back at the right time!
It was safe to say that your belly was filled that night. Mrs Han had kindly put the cost of the meal on the house, and your uncle hurried you out of the restaurant when you insisted on paying. 
“It’s rare for her to be this generous. Accept it while you can,” he told you. You rolled your eyes. He was as thrifty as always. 
Your uncle took you to the bridge that night. Proper lighting had been installed on it, small yet powerful lamps illuminating the path as you and your uncle stood side by side on the apex of the bridge. The river was frozen over, the trees around it bald and bare. 
“You should’ve came back in the spring,” he remarked, “there were more flowers this time. It was beautiful.”
“I can imagine that,” you replied. 
Your uncle sighed heavily, a sizable cloud forming before his face. “You know… She came back this spring.”
“Is that so?” you replied alarmingly calmly. Your voice betrayed your emotions. It felt like a small ball was caught in your throat. “How is she?”
“She seems alright, definitely grew a few centimetres,” he told you. 
“Is she healthy?” you pressed. 
“She definitely looked a little more plump in the face. She’s seemed a lot stronger,” your uncle replied.
Silence hung between the two of you. Then your uncle inquired, “You never managed to see her in the city, did you?”
You lowered your gaze to the frozen water. 
“No…” you grimaced, “I… I could never find a way to see her.”
The truth—It felt like fate was against you. You could never secure a ticket to any of her performances, nor could you ever get into any of her fanmeets—Online and physical. You never expected that you’d face such difficulty in trying to see Yuna, but you persevered nonetheless. When the university workload came in however, you found your free time had been stripped from you, tossed out to the wind as assignment after assignment plagued your days. Yuna couldn’t be your top priority no matter how much you wanted her to be. You didn’t know why the idea of getting her phone number never crossed your mind while she was with you. Then again, exchanging phone numbers could have landed her in trouble…
You told this to your uncle. He nodded silently.
“I guess we were never meant to be a thing,” you whispered dejectedly, “I was a fool to hold on to those memories”
Your uncle sighed and patted your shoulder. “Some memories never heal. Rather than fading with the passage of time, those memories become the only things that are left behind when all else is abraded…”
“Han Kang,” you muttered. It was one of the quotes from her book Human Acts. You had a paper on that book coming next term. Your time at the bookstore made you discover your love for books, hence you pursued a degree in Literature in university. 
“You remember,” your uncle chuckled. It was one of the first books that he’d made you read. “Your memory serves you well, nephew.”
The quote he’d recited could be interpreted in many ways. In the context of the book, the protagonist spoke of their memories in the bloody Gwangju massacre in 1981. The sights, sounds and horrors left them scarred for life, so scarred that they’d take them to the grave—hence the usage of heal in memories never heal. Healing meant forgetting.
For you, healing meant forgetting too. The only difference—You didn’t want to heal. You wanted to keep those memories carved into your brain, make them a permanent part of your being. You wanted to ingrain that smile in your vision, keep that voice playing on loop in your ears. You were more than willing to take those memories to your grave. 
“First a breakup, now this,” you muttered, “am I not built for love, uncle?”
“Everyone is built for love,” came his instant reply, “it’s just a matter of finding the right person to receive love from.”
The right person… 
Your parents were meant to follow you on this visit back to the town, but last minute work held them up in the city. They’d found an Airbnb house in the town for the three of you, but now you had it to yourself. As you laid down on the bed, you found that the silence was deafening.
Silently, you wondered what’d be like to date a girl like Yuna. She felt like the right person.
Maybe all of those emotions were just teen hormones. Maybe the feelings were just bright out in the heat of the moment. Maybe you didn’t actually love her, maybe it was more of an infatuation. It all sounded logical and reasonable to you. 
Yet when you saw her again, all of that no longer seemed to make sense. 
There she stood in the cold winter morning, scarf around her neck and a pair of earmuffs atop her head. In her gloved hands, a bright pink tote bag, a bouquet of flowers sticking out from the opening. She stood before the store, staring at the closed shutter, mouth parted ever so slightly. Her hair—Red when you first saw her—Had been returned to its natural colour. She was as beautiful as the day you said goodbye to her. 
You swore that your eyes were deceiving you. When she turned her head, you were convinced that her jaw dropped open as wide as yours when the two of you locked eyes.
Then in the next moment, she was in your arms. She had her ear pressed to the left side of your chest, as if she needed to hear your heartbeat to verify that you were truly there.
“Hey,” was all you could manage.
“Hi,” she whispered back, “it’s been awhile.”
Her eyes gleamed with the same childlike wonder. Her smile was as genuine as you’d remembered. You wanted to kiss her to see if her lips would feel the same, but…
When we meet again, I’ll tell you what you mean to me. We can go off from there…
She did give you the freedom of choice to kiss her when you reunited, but you decided against it.
Catchup was done in the warm respite of the bookstore. With aprons adorning your bodies, you filled each other in on what you’d missed in each other's lives. This was all done to the backdrop of filling in shelves and rearranging stacks of books. Lunch came and your uncle left the two of you on your own. You got some tteokbokki with her from Mrs Han’s—to go of course—and hit your old spot. 
“Even without the leaves, this place is still so stunning,” she mused, staring out at the frozen water.
“I still prefer it in Spring,” you told her, “I like it better when the trees are less… Bald.”
She laughed at that. 
When the sun started to set on the small town, your uncle made the executive decision to close up early. The sun may be gone, but the night is young he told you with a wink. You gave him a grateful smile and took off your apron. He let the two of you go off early that day.
Dinner that night was once again at Mrs Han’s, and she wasn’t so generous that night.  A walk around town was what she asked for afterwards, both of your footsteps seemingly synchronised to produce rhythmic crunches in the snow. At one point, she’d stopped walking to gather up a handful of snow, forming a hefty snowball to chuck at you. You didn’t hesitate to fight back. 
“University sounds tough,” she mused, munching on some grapes from Miss Cho’s.
“I think it’s just my course,” you remarked, “the rest of my batchmates seem to be having a relatively good time.”
“Literature is demanding,” she agreed, “but what do you wanna do with it in the future?”
You sighed and shoved your hands into the pockets of your jacket, “I’m still figuring that out…”
“Maybe you can become a writer,” she suggested, “write some screenplay… Make it different from the usual stuff.”
“I’d probably need to save up some money before I do that,” you chuckled, “I have a degree that guarantees a higher chance of living on the streets than living on someone’s couch.”
She laughed at that too. Then she said, “hey, maybe you should come work for my company when you’re done with university. That way, we can see each other more often too.”
You chuckled. “That’s a possibility… I’ll try and keep that in mind.”
“I’ll make sure to vouch for you,” she declared, “the big boss likes me enough to listen to me…”
You laughed and nodded. Silence hung between you two. 
Then it was time for the hard question. 
“So are you seeing anyone?” you asked her. Yuna licked a grape seed off her lips before answering.
“I’d like to think so…”
Your heart sank, but you still cocked your head in feigned curiosity, “oh? What do you mean?”
Yuna bit down on her lip. “I mean… I like him, but I’m not sure if he still likes me.”
“Ah,” you mused.
“Yea…” Yuna sighed. She looked up at you and asked, “what about you?”
You took a moment to formulate an answer. “I think… I’m just waiting for love as of now.”
“Ah,” Yuna parroted, “well… I wish you the best in that then.”
There was a sudden tension in the air. It was like your respective cryptic messages had conjured a rubber band of the mind, pulling it out to its maximum length as you continued your silent journey down the street.  Perhaps your hopes were set a little too high—You’d expected her to remember the love that existed four years ago, run back into your open arms so that you could shower her with kisses. But you’d forgotten—No… Chose to forget what she’d told you on the bridge that night. 
I love you. I know that it’s too late for this, but I love you. I’m sorry we can’t love in the same way others do, but do know that deep down, I wish to love you in the same manner that you love me. It’s confusing, I know… But my life doesn’t allow us to share the life we want to. I’m sorry.
It was a painful thing to hear, but you still kissed her right afterwards, and you still kissed her the morning after. You now realised that perchance, you’d gambled a little too much, gone all in with the chips of your heart only to lose. You didn’t understand why she couldn’t date freely, be with someone that truly made her happy. She was a human, a human deserved to give love and be loved.
She got a call a few minutes later. It’s my manager. I gotta go now. 
She gave you a small wave, handed you the last few grapes from the container. Then, with a it was nice seeing you again, Yuna turned on her heel and walked off. The grapes felt oddly heavy in your hands. Again, she was to disappear from your life. Like grains of stars in an infinitely expanding galaxy, she spilled through the gaps between your fingers once more. This felt like a scenario you’d read in books a thousand times over, and frankly, it sucked.
But happiness is being able to hope, however faintly, for happiness. So, at least, we must believe if we are to live in the world of today. 
Osamu Dazai had said that. You weren’t sure why you thought of it as you watched her back get smaller and smaller by the second. 
Hoping faintly for happiness? Is that what I’m meant to do? You asked yourself. She was getting further by the second. Hoping faintly for a chance that she’d turn back, you stood there. She never did.
Hoping faintly…
No. You wouldn’t settle for that. 
The grapes fell from your hands as you ran towards the girl that you’d so hoped to see again. Four long years you’d tried and failed. Now, with the opportunity right in your grasp, you were certain that you had to make something out of it. 
In three more bounds, you were right behind her. Yuna you called, grabbing her by the shoulder. You didn’t give her time to say anything before you turned her around and planted your lips on hers. She yelped, her body tensing as you held her cheeks in the cradle of your palms. 
A quiet smack resonated when your lips parted. Yuna trembled in your grasp, teary eyes gazing into yours. 
“I’ve been waiting for your love Yuna,” you admitted to her, “for four years, I tried to see you again but I just never could. We said that we wanted to sort out what we meant to each other when we met again, but we failed to do that today. Tell me Yuna—What am I to you?”
She let out a shuddery breath, the smell of grapes saturating the air. 
“I-I have to go,” she muttered.
You were tired of waiting.
“Yuna please,” you begged.
She looked away, as if contemplating if she should give you her answer.
“You… You are who I want to love,” she whispered, “I-I thought that… Maybe I was too selfish to ask you to keep loving me for all these years. I-I guess I didn’t expect this selfishness to be rewarded.”
“It isn’t selfish,” you corrected her, “it’s… It’s human Yuna. The desire to want someone to keep loving you, that’s human.”
Her lower lip trembled ever so slightly. “Right… I can only feel like a human when I’m with you.”
Suddenly, nothing else in the world seemed to matter. You pulled her in once more, holding her as tight as she did on the day she left your life. You kissed her, tender and passionate as she gripped the fabric of your jacket. Her perfume was sickly sweet, intoxicating and lulling you deeper into her body as she reciprocated the kiss. Her hair, cold and slightly damp from the snowball you threw at her, was silky, smooth to run your fingers through. The repeated dying of it had definitely affected its quality, but only in the slightest.
Her voice was strained when your lips parted, but you could clearly make out what she’d said. 
I don’t want to go back tonight. I want to be here with you. 
When the first teardrop rolled down her cheek, you didn’t hesitate to wipe it away. 
“You’d be breaking some rules won’t you?” you questioned.
“I’ve broken them before. I can always break them again,” she replied, “humans were made to break some rules after all…”
With a smile, you let your hand slip into hers. It was warm, just like any other human. In her eyes, there was a gleam that every other human could possess. In her smile, there was a sincerity and joy that any other human could show. Sure, the Dispatch article that posted the photo of you kissing Yuna did call it the unexpected relationship between a top idol and a civilian. 
But in your eyes, Yuna was as human as anyone could ever be.
Dried things and humanity—An unlikely combination for a love story, but it was certainly fit to start the first chapter of your story with Yuna.
_______________________
Hello! A rare, smutless Yuna fic has mad its way onto my blog. I know it'll disappoint a lot of you guys, but this is what I wanted to write, so here we are. Hope you guys enjoy this one. Take a break from the horny and have some simple love <;3.
~Lots of love, Nichuuu
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morgaseus · 3 months
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A little brainrot abt Dr. Ratio. Y'know this stereotype about genius characters not being able to feel emotions? they know and understand it well, but they can't put their selves in someone else's shoes, can't experience it for them self or have a hard time comprehending what they feel? yeah
The thing about veritas ratio is that he understands human emotions, he KNOWS them too well, for someone of his caliber there isn't anything he doesn’t know. And, yet…. Its strange, despite being able to understand human emotions he can seem to feel them…
But when it comes to you, someone whose always been a constant in his life. He can't help but feel drawn to your presence, unconsciously seeking your warmth. Can't help but notice the subtle shifts in your face, the way your eyes light up with joy whenever you get your way, or when the corner of your mouth twitch when you find something annoying, or when you roll your eyes at him when you think he isn't looking (because he's being a know it all, again). And sometimes, whenever he catches a glimpse at you, his gaze lingers a fraction longer than necessary.
As time passes, his thoughts frequently revolve around you. Whenever he passes by your favorite bakery, he always end up buying your favorite pastry. Or when he got you that cute little stuffed toy one time, because it reminded him of you.
One time, when he saw you hanging out with someone, he became restless.. The thought of you being involved with someone else made him feel so...bitter... Was he feeling jealous?
"No, that can't be right" mumbling to himself "There's no reason for me to be jealous in the first place" His logical assessment overriding the possibility of being involved with you romantically, yet that voice in the back of his mind says so otherwise.
It's driving him crazy. You're driving him crazy.
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yutagram · 8 months
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pov
- megumi fushiguro x reader
- notes: i edited this from the last time i wrote it which was like over a year ago.. if u remember this ur so real but act like u haven’t read it b4 😘 (for my sake)
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megumi fushiguro doesn’t know how it feels like to be loved, not really at least; to be completely taken into the arms of another with such gentleness and care the dangers of the world slip your mind. he’s starstruck, in more words or less, by the way you continue to stick by him throughout the many moods that make him whole. 
he’s in awe once more, at the way you bend over and mindlessly pick up the laundry that’s been long overdue; megumi’s been in a slump, worse than usual. he’s not sure why, but it feels like he’s a kid again.
he can’t fathom why, out of everyone, it’s him that has to deal with the obstacles of navigating life without a mother, father, sibling, just someone who won’t leave. and he knows, he’s aware that gojo has tried everything in the book to cheer him up. he’s done that since the day he became megumi’s official caregiver — and megumi is grateful, so so grateful, but he can’t help the ache in his chest he feels when he sees a happy family. he has never felt a jealousy that runs so deeply he can taste the bitter feeling on his tongue. 
so, when you came around and filled that void with nothing but light so powerful it would shame the sun itself, he wasn’t sure what to feel. 
megumi cares for you, he knows that for a fact. he doesn’t have to utter a single word for you to understand him. he doesn’t want to think that it’s love of all things, though. not when you could so easily leave and abandon this, him. 
where does he draw the line? even after he continues his attempts at shutting you out, you manage to find loopholes and glue yourself next to him — he refused to answer his door and yet you’re standing right there, completing chores he should’ve done long ago— megumi doesn’t understand why you stick around the way you do. 
his voice is raspy as he scrambles up on his bed from his previous position. hand going through his hair in an attempt to tame the mess it’s become when he narrows his eyes at you, “what are you doing?” 
you peer over at him, blinking a couple times before straightening and grinning widely, presenting all of your teeth. megumi has to ignore the way his heart skips a beat at the sight. 
“cleaning. is that not obvious?” you tease, careful to not allow him to see that those four words made your heart content. he can still complain, so that’s a good sign, you think. 
megumi’s mouth runs dry when he monotonously states, “you didn’t even knock.” you did. 13 times to be exact, he counted. 
you turn over to him once more, eyebrows furrowing, “you know i did.” 
he sighs heavily, rising from his (very comfortable) seat on his bed to join you. he glances at you for a moment, eyes taking in the concentration evident on your face, the way your hands gently fold every piece of clothing like it’s expensive china, “why are you doing this?” 
without sparring a glance at him, you respond, “because i care for you, dummy.” and it’s like he’s watching every moment you’ve shared with him in slow motion. 
running through the thunderous rain, getting soaked from head to toe, just to remind him of early training the next day. you knew he wasn’t listening, so you took it into your own hands to tell him. 
delicately washing his cuts when shoko’s lab was closed off for the night. you saw him walk into the school gates bloody and bruised and even though no one asked you to, you decided to help him. 
allowing megumi to sleep alongside you the night after tsumiki was hospitalized. megumi knows you don’t exactly like sharing your space, but you allowed him into your bubble with open arms; you let him sleep right next to you without one complaint. 
megumi’s eyes widen in realization, i care for you.
this, what you two have, is so clearly love. he was just too stubborn to notice it. 
love is relying on another when your burdens are too heavy to carry, love is within every single bandage you’ve placed on megumi, love is in every shared glance between the two of you.
without a second thought, megumi grabs your shoulders and quickly pulls you to him, “i love you.” he whispers it into your hair, as if it’s a secret just for your ears alone, “i love you so much, it hurts.” 
your face visibly softens at his confession, arms dropping the shirt onto the floor, “megumi.” 
he closes his eyes in anticipation, don’t leave, don’t leave, don’t leave. 
as if you know what he’s thinking, you place your arms around his waist, squeezing, as you move your head to the side to place a chaste kiss at his jaw, removing those thoughts from further consuming his brain, “i love you more than you’d ever know.” 
with his arms tightening their grip around you, megumi knows that if he were to die in the sanctuary of your arms, he wouldn’t mind one bit, not when he knows that love can make even the darkest places shine with light of a thousand rays.
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hwangyeddeongie · 30 days
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bratty yuna hcs pls 🫣
CW: smut. Men and minors DNI
brat!yuna x reader hcs
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-okay I think we all know yuna is like
-the brattiest, whiniest bottom EVER
-like she does NOT CARE
-if you’ve ever watched Jennifer’s body, there’s a scene where she’s calling her best friend Needy on the phone and telling her how hot she feels while strutting around in her room in mini shorts and a tight shirt and checking herself out in the mirror
-like. that’s SO yuna
-she loves getting dolled up, even for the most mundane events
-she could be going to the convenience store at the corner and she’ll choose a whole outfit and do her hair up
-she takes advantage of this fact to tease you
-she’ll wear ridiculously revealing clothes that leaves just enough to the imagination
-I’m talking mini skirts, tops (with no bra on), or JUST a bra with a thin jacket on top
-it’s so obvious she’s trying to rile you up, but if you ever bring it up she’ll just be like
-“what do mean? this is how I always dress…”
-sits on your lap A LOT
-even though there’s like 6 perfectly acceptable seats (in your humble opinion) around you
-likes it when you grab her waist/hips to move her around
-will purposefully drop things and bend over right in front of you, giving you a perfect view up her skirt
-really embodies the “look, don’t touch” motto, especially when she’s trying to tease you
-if you try to grab her ass/touch her inappropriately, she’ll slap your hands away with a tsk
-she never holds up for long, though, since you know all she wants is for you to fuck her silly
-SO into mirror sex
-she loves the way she looks (queen), and seeing herself get railed is kind of a confidence boost for her
-she’ll put up a fight in bed, won’t let you have it too easily
-but secretly loves being put in her place
-she mentioned one time after you guys went at it that she likes being talked down to
-she was half asleep by then so she doesn’t remember saying that, but you never forgot
-goes crazy when you mix praise and degradation
-“my pretty little slut.” “such a good whore for me.” “what’s the matter? isn’t this what you wanted?”
-you guys go on for hours because she’s such a brat
-you just want her to give in and beg, meanwhile she REFUSES to give you what you want
-ends up with you either edging her until she snaps, all sweaty and voice hoarse from hours of screaming your name
-or overstimulating her until she’s too weak to stand on her own and she physically CANT come anymore
-has a vast collection of toys
-most of them pink (are we surprised)
-owns a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs that you use a little too often
-mostly because she will just resort to touching herself if you don’t or are trying to edge her
-so you tie her up and hold her legs open so she has nothing to get herself off with
-has a filthy mouth and uses it to her advantage because she knows it flusters you
-loves to sext you and sends you nudes at the most random times
-“I’m so wet just thinking about you, baby…you should come over ;)” text paired with a video of her gathering her slick on her fingers and spreading it all over her pussy, or her pumping a toy into herself
-responds to EVERYTHING with “make me.”, and she sometimes underestimates how seriously you take that
-loves it when you use a strap on her and boss her around
-“get on your hands and knees.” “Such a whore for my cock.” “you’re so desperate, aren’t you?”
-takes it like a champ, and responds beautifully to degradation
-SO loud
-like, you feel bad for your neighbours, especially since you guys go on for so long
-loves to take you from behind, probably likes being spanked too
-she will completely crumble if you call her princess
-she will never admit it out loud though, you’re just going off of the way she gets wetter every time you call her a slut or pinch/slap her for misbehaving
-occasionally does like a break from the rougher stuff though, especially when she’s had a bad day
-on days like those, she prefers to go slow as you whisper praise into her ear and tell her how beautiful she is
-same goes for aftercare, if you’ve just been rough with her, she needs a lot of reassurance and cuddles afterwards, so you always make sure to shower her with love
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ageofzero · 2 months
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Yuna is the antagonist of a potential Final Fantasy X-3, thank you for coming to my TED Talk
edit: okay I'll put it under a read more since it'll be a long post (but not as long as my entire conversation was), but what's promised is due.
Now that I have to make the post for real I had to do some wiki reading on what the actual Things going on in the novella were, and… well, a lot of my theorycrafting was based on incomplete and kinda inaccurate information. BUT I can’t read Japanese, the book was never released here, and I am going to go with rule of cool for a little bit of this even as I keep the stuff that sounds kinda dumb on the surface. I’ll be the first to say that Tidus exploding from a bomb he thinks is a blitzball is dumb (true), and Chuami thinking she’s Auron’s daughter is a dumb plot beat (petty), but I’m weaving this bridge and I’m not going to rewrite those. I am going to change some contexts and make them exist in a narrative that I hope is compelling. That’s my disclaimer, now I’m gonna get into it.
SO.
The scenario from the novella and audio drama is thus: Tidus died again in an accident, and Yuna brings him back. But he’s not back in the same way that the Fayth gave this dream a real living body at the end of X-2. The official term for it is “beckoned”, but I probably won’t use that to describe him based on my previous understanding. No matter if he’s beckoned or not, or whatever terminology you want to use, the thing is that Yuna summoned him back. She’s holding him to life, and he can never know. It’s been a year since the moment Tidus died, and Yuna has seemingly regressed into patterns that put her into what was once Yevon’s circle. Tidus is looking injured/weakened (“Chuami: It wasn’t just [Tidus’s] words that felt hollow. When I shook his hand, his grip felt weak and lifeless... I think he’s injured. Or maybe he’s sick or something.”), and people are looking to Yuna for help or information regarding the strange not-quite Unsent (the beckoned) that are appearing in places in Spira. Help she is not capable of giving. Wakka and Lulu are protecting her as she prays in Besaid Temple. The world is seemingly acting out, with a second shoopuf appearing in the Moonflow and its energies overflowing and drawing more illusions into reality. (“Yuna: The Moonflow energy is responding to the will of the living. It’s as if… we’re in the Farplane.”) And it’s more vivid than what the Farplane is capable of, even breaking the rules of “beckoning”. This is something new, something worse. Something worse enough to bring back Sin (which I thought was just me extrapolating a potential, but they actually mention it in the audio drama that it happens). Yuna promises the people that she will defeat Sin, but Wakka tries to keep her from being made to promise such a thing at first, which is an interesting choice (“Wakka: Yuna, let’s go back to Besaid. They’ll push this all on you… Sin is for summoners, in their minds.”).
Where does the world go in this present circumstances? Why IS Yuna seemingly content to do what chafed her in the Eternal Calm short movie and stay praying in Besaid and helping the elders who are lost now that Yevon as they knew it is in shambles? Why are Lulu and Wakka enabling and protecting her in that? Why is Tidus looking injured and weak and why is Yuna keeping him at arm’s length? Why does she tell him that she’s fallen in love with someone else?
I know the typical story beat interpretation is “Yuna told him that and pushed him away so he wouldn’t be in danger for what she needs to do, bc defeating Sin caused his death last time”. But hear me out. Yuna knows Tidus isn’t alive. She knows that revealing that information to him will cause him to disappear again. She’s actively summoning him back to life and he has no idea (but he must suspect something is wrong, even before Yuna formally pulls away from him, he’s weakening and he probably doesn’t feel right in his own skin). I posit that her maintaining Tidus’s life is what she’s really doing praying in the Besaid Temple. She doesn’t want to get involved with the Moonflow situation, the shoopuf or the overflowing energy of the Moonflow itself. She doesn’t even really act when seeing all the ghosts in the crowd, and actively stops Kurgum from acting (plausible deniability: she and everyone else decide that sending them in that moment would be the wrong call and riots would break out, but that density of ghosts means that’s a significant amount of pyreflies that could become fiends at any moment).
I posit that Yuna’s powers are working, that people close to her think her powers aren’t working (Lulu and Wakka), and she’s hiding it from everyone else. That her powers aren’t working because she’s currently using them to maintain Tidus’s existence. And this maintaining is breaking the Farplane in half, because she’s powerful but has no idea what she’s doing. (Why would she really know what she’s doing or the consequences? Who has any information of what she’s doing and what will happen if she does it?) I posit that Yuna’s love for Tidus is so strong that it corrupts her sense of right and wrong. X-2 is Yuna largely going on a personal quest, and incidentally helping people but separating herself from the title of High Summoner and doing something she wants to do. Rikku encourages her to do something for herself for a change right before she agrees and runs off to become a sphere hunter. She still saves the world, this time from an ancient danger Old Yevon buried and an Unsent is threatening to use (for love, notably), but she did it in the course of looking for Tidus. Who the Fayth return to life, who she hugs and is so so relieved to have in her arms again.
She’s not going to let him go, she couldn’t let him die again so much that she called him back to life.
(side note: I never truly knew how this happened so I had to consult the wiki page on the novella, and I suspect what original information I was working with was misrepresented and misinterpreted. I openly admit that the wiki page doesn’t really help me fully understand what happened, aside from explaining how Tidus ended up in proximity to a bomb. My understanding from someone’s explanation was that an Unsent summoner on the island Yuna and Tidus got washed up on after a storm told her she could call back the dead if she wanted, as a summoner. They’re all made of pyreflies, Aeons and Fiends and People and Unsent alike, and summoners are in the business of manipulating pyreflies. Either calling them from the Fayth to form an Aeon, or Sending them to the Farplane so they do not become Fiends. A summoner with enough power could summon someone back from the dead, could they not? And this Unsent summoner knew how it worked, and told Yuna how to do it. But I don’t know how real that scene could be, or how accurate it is to what’s written in the book. It’s my rule of cool moment, though, and I worked with that as my understanding when I made this theory. We have to make our peace with that, if you’ll allow me this extrapolation of Spira’s rules and a summoner’s powers.)
(The meme is Tidus kicking a blitzball and it turned out it was a bomb and his head gets blown off, but wiki says they ended up on a vision of a Besaid from 1000 years ago, and the bomb was something neither Tidus or Yuna had seen before and to them it looked like a blitzball. So, Tidus approached what he thought was a blitzball, wondering who’s ball it was, and it exploded as he reached it. I still think that’s really dumb but I’m not editing it out bc Tidus’s death creates very interesting consequences.)
So, if Yuna is summoning Tidus back to life, and she desperately doesn’t want him to find this out so she avoids him and pushes him away through any means necessary, but he’s still weakening and fading enough to be noticeable by people… perhaps also himself… Yuna returning to Yevon in some capacity could just as likely be her looking for a means to keep feeding power to this summoning she’s doing so she doesn’t lose him. And what kind of consequences does it have to do this? He’s being summoned, but he’s not actually an Aeon. He’s not an Unsent, he’s not just being beckoned. He wasn’t even real, he was a dream in a summon held together by the raw power of Yu Yevon turning into Sin. The Moonflow overflowing and seeing a long-dead shoopuf is the least of the consequences. The Farplane is delicate, it requires careful maintenance, and here Yuna is shoving her foot in the door and holding it open for a solid year! And no one knows she’s doing this! Spira’s past is full of history, some of that long-buried secrets that no one was supposed to find again. Sin wasn’t supposed to be able to come back, but the ghosts aren’t staying ghosts anymore (“Lulu: I mean Sin came back, right? What’s to stop anything else from coming back?”).
Even people who only know her by reputation seem to think she’s acting strangely (“Kurgum: I thought Lady Yuna was… a righteous person.”), because something is wrong and no one can put their finger on what. Who would have the pieces to put any of this together, and who would even suspect Yuna in the first place? She’s actively not getting involved in politics, she’s locked herself in Besaid, she seems reluctant to answer someone she worked with and should be amicable with now (Baralai).
I think the story should follow down this path, I think it should find Yuna at the end of it, once savior and now destroyer. She’s willing to let the world rip apart in order to keep Tidus, and I think that’s a compelling premise for X-3. The past surging forward like ghosts, vengeful and lost and wanted and terrifying. Who sides with Yuna (Wakka, Lulu) and covers up the problem? Who bands together to face down the High Summoner (Tidus, Rikku)? Who doesn’t know where to place their allegiance, or who changes sides when they realize the extent of what Yuna’s hiding? What does she do when she’s faced with her friends, and the person she loves so much, telling her to stop?
There’s a line in Eternal Calm where Yaibal (named in X-2 but not in the movie itself), after asking about whether or not she’d be joining one of the factions, if she’d be making a faction of her own. And I think in this potential X-3, she’s making her own faction through the actions of becoming antagonist. She’s made Wakka cover for her, she acts in a way that make Lulu and Wakka both protect her regardless of whether or not they know what she’s doing. I think it would be so fascinating to make this a conscious decision on her part. Things have broken so utterly, and she’s desperate to hold them together, and becomes the antagonist in the process.
Squeenix would never do it, they’d never be so bold as to make Yuna the antagonist and follow through on this trajectory of her lying to people to hide that she’s the one breaking the world in half (up to returning the ghost of Sin itself to terrorize Spira). Sin isn’t the final boss in this one, it’d have to be Yuna, we have to stop her and fix what went wrong. It’s not ever gonna happen, but I still think Yuna should be the antagonist of X-3.
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dracuno · 7 months
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little snippet from here !! small idea i had and am considering fleshing out someday ^-^
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"hey, hey, hey," neil said as he immediately knelt down in front of you so he could be at your eye level. he felt awkward, obviously never have been in this kind of situation before, but he wasn't going to just up and leave. how could he? he still cared about you a lot, and he knows it must be scary (of course he knows it's scary, he felt his soul leave his body when you told him) but especially for you.
awkwardly, he placed his hand on you shoulder and you momentarily ceased your crying to look at him. your eyes were red and it hurt him to see you this panicked. why? he didn't know, he didn't even know you for very long.
"i'm...not going anywhere." he said. few seconds of silence followed and he decided to go again, "i'm not going to go anywhere." he said again, a bit more confidently.
"we... we did this together," neil said, not knowing if they were exactly the right words to use but he didn't know how else to explain it, "we got into this together." you chuckled lightly, he was such a dork. "so i'm going to be here with you every step of the way."
"really?" you asked, sniffling. he cracked a small smile and his hand on your shoulder moved to pet your head, "yeah. yeah, i am. anything you need me for."
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neil walked into the store but didn't realize he was even in the store to begin with until jonathan spoke up.
"are you ok?" he asked, snapping neil back to reality.
"huh? oh, yeah...." he replied, albeit puzzled.
"how'd your meeting with y/n go?" lucien asked as he picked up another tape and returned it to the proper shelf. "are you going out again?"
"um..." neil said, "yeah, kinda i think? but also uh..." man, fuck it. "we're also gonna have a baby together."
the store went silent, and then;
"what?"
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mossymandibles · 1 year
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I know I haven’t posted much about Sobehk here yet (Kraw’s dad) but I just wanted to draw a tender moment between him and Yuna sitting in her nest she made from driftwood, fishing nets and old seaweed/kelp. (She doesn’t care much for fancy ornaments so Sobehk added the flowers and skull)
I added the first version too where I wasn’t fooling around with gradients and background stuff.
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b000mbayah · 1 year
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Itzy Reaction to S/O having them as their lock screen
.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・
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Yeji
It was probably the last thing she expected to see when you had let her borrow your phone. All she needed to do was make a quick phone call, but now it seems that she can't even do that.
With her face flared up like the blaze of a thousand suns, there was no way she could even speak. How could she when she's just discovered the love of her life has one of the most embarrassing photos of her set as their lock screen?
She so badly wanted to cripple up and simply die, but she also wanted to just tackle you into a tight hug and pamper you with love-fueled kisses.
The picture contains that of her at a photo shoot. It had just finished and she felt a little goofy… and there was a conveniently stationed can of unused whipped cream that the photographer and stylists seemed to have forgotten about.
To say she had fun was one thing, but to say she had fun while looking like a complete fool was another. She had whipped cream caked on her bare arm, a smear on her cheek and a cute dollop on her cute nose.
Yeah, no, there's no way she could call anyone in the flustered state she's in. So with an ever-burning face, she just returned your phone shortly after, claiming that she had confirmed her schedule with her manager.
You said a quick "I love you" as she briskly walked back to the bedroom, hoping the words wouldn't affect her when she knew they definitely would.
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Lia
When she powered on your phone, she would’ve suspected there to be a casual picture of your pet, or maybe even some random landscape, or your family. But what she got wasn't even considered on the list she had subconsciously made in the back of her mind.
She had felt so flustered when she met eyes with herself, smiling widely at the camera as she beamed. It was a surprise picnic date you had set up months before this situation.
How long have you had this picture as your lock screen?
"I'm your lock screen?" Lia had asked from across the room, sitting on the couch while you fiddled with a lamp.
"Yeah?"
"Why?"
You stood up straight and turned to face your girlfriend "because it was too cute to not have, don't you think?"
Lia scrunched her nose, hearing her heartbeat faintly hum its melody in her ears. "I suppose so"
"You suppose so?" Lia took another look, eyes scanning the lit screen before they met yours. Her eyes shined, as a beautiful smile graciously danced across her plush lips.
"Yeah, I suppose so"
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Ryujin
When Ryujin picked up your phone, her only intention was to put an alarm on it so you wouldn't oversleep and miss work. But when the screen lit up with familiar faces, she turned to you with an eyebrow raised at the choice of image.
She held a half straight, half amused look as the smugness crept up her spine, quickly infecting her brain.
"What's up?" You responded to her silent stare, feeling somewhat pressured by the intensity of her eyes.
"Jagiya, what's this?" She asked, showing you your lock screen. It was a selphy you took with her before she went on stage- it wasn't the best picture in the world, but nor was it the worst.
"It's my phone" Ryujin jokingly rolls her eyes, having already gathered the more obvious information.
"Not that"
"The picture of us?" Ryujin nods, still watching you with her stoic stare "I like to have quick and easy access to a picture of my girlfriend. Do you not like it? I can change it" you teased.
"No!" Ryujin quickly snapped in, shutting down any thought of changing the photo to something else. She felt her cheeks start to burn, normally she'd be the one to do such a bold thing and openly admit to it so easily. But with the tables turned, Ryujin can't help but radiate a small gust of warmth.
"Then what's the problem?" You tilted your head, now staring back at her with a certain curiosity.
"I just wanted to know…"
"If I go on your phone, I better see a picture of us too!" You laughed as she pulled out her phone, swiping and tapping a few times before she showed you the picture she chose- and it wasn't much better either.
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Chaeryeong
She had caught herself staring.
It took until the screen went dark again for her to realise what she had just casually witnessed. Her eyes remained on the screen however, eyebrows raised in shock as she just stared at her own reflection now- mouth hung ajar with her teeth just about prodding through.
"Y/n?" She finally breathed out, turning to look at you, finding you half immersed in the movie she put on.
"Yes dear?" You turned to her, smiling lightly as you studied her facial expression, curious about the reasoning behind the look she's giving you.
Actions speak louder than words, and right now her breath was so caught up in her throat that this saying couldn't be any more true even if she tried. So, turning your phone to you and pressing the power button had done all the talking for her. She explained everything in a simple expression and the tap of a thin button.
Your smile only widened though, seeing the truth as you reached out for your phone. "Isn't she the most precious person ever?" You laughed as Chaeryeong only blushed, reconsidering her lock screen that's faced many different themes and topics thus far, but have yet to reach the stage yours is at.
"Why am I your lock screen?" She mumbled, still staring at the phone.
"Why do you think?"
Chaeryeong took a brief moment to pause, mind working overtime as she thinks up many different reasons, but none seemed to appeal in a way that made sense. "I don't know…"
"It's because I love you"
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Yuna
Yuna had quite literally squealed when she turned on your phone. Her eyes widened out of shock but the sound she emitted stated she was thrilled- ecstatic even, at the fact that you had a picture of her on your phone's lock screen.
It was a quick photo- one you took on a Ferris wheel during sundown. The golden hue made the perfect lighting and it showed perfectly on your canvas that just so happened to be your girlfriend.
"Y/n!" She yelled demandingly, desperate for your attention and immediate answers.
When you had entered the room, Yuna had figuratively thrown herself at you- mentally picturing the suprise you'd be in, much like herself a second ago."What? Why did you call?"
"What's this?" She smiled brightly at the sight once again, taking in her own features like she was completely in love with herself.
"A picture of you?" You crossed your arms, sounding more confused than confident "Is that why you're so giddy right now?"
"Yes"
You had simply laughed, shaking your head lightly before sitting beside her, taking your phone back. "Why do you even have my phone?"
"I wanted to message myself" Yuna grinned, pointing at her phone in your hand. You had been using it while yours was on charge in her room- but it seems that it's charged now.
You hummed. "Okay, but no more stealing please" You smiled, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.
"Okay"
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larz-barz · 1 month
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Unbearable news
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Warning(s)/info: Character death, depression, Shiina is @nothingtoseehere1-2-3’s oc and Milo’s cousin, Yuna is @kimetsu-chan’s oc and Milo’s mama
Tagging: @nothingtoseehere1-2-3 @kimetsu-chan
——————————————————————————
Milo couldn’t stop crying.
Not only had she just found out about Shiina’s death, she had to find out 3 months after the fact due to Milo being in a coma since before Shiina’s death had been announced.
Yuna, Giyuu, Tanjiro, and Michio are all there to comfort her.
They’re all hugging her tightly and gently as they comfort her.
Milo is very distraught over the loss of her dear cousin.
Once Milo is clear to leave the butterfly mansion, she and Michio immediately go to visit Shiina’s grave.
Milo can’t help but blame herself, she feels like it’s her fault since she wasn’t there to heal Shiina.
“I’m sorry Itoko-san…” Milo whispers shakily as her downcast eyes move up to look at the graves of each person who had died in the battle against Muzan.
Michio pulls her up into a hug.
“I-I could’ve prevented all of this….” Milo cries into Michio’s chest.
“Shh… Milo… please don’t blame yourself for all of their deaths… none of it is your fault…” Michio whispers as he gently rubs her back and starts gently scratching behind her fluffy ears.
“Michio is right hun… If you had’ve tried to save everyone then you would’ve died too…” Yuna says softly as she walks up to the heartbroken siblings.
Giyuu follows close behind, then he and Yuna hug Milo and Michio.
Tanjiro and Nezuko then come to join in the hug.
They all hug each other and comfort each other.
Milo ends up falling asleep in the embrace of her family.
Michio lets Tanjiro gently pick her up.
“C’mon angel.. let’s get you home…” Tanjiro says after gently kissing her forehead.
The family walks together.
Healing from the losses will be difficult, but they’ll be able to heal as long as they have each other.
No matter how long it takes..
~the end~
Ok- here’s a better version-
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princessfbi · 1 month
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Top five favorite fics/ideas you’ve ever written (could be any fandom not just 911)
I’ve already answered this here! But I’m going to take this chance to pick five more 😇
1. 00Q!Buddie AU
2. Tear Me to Pieces; Skin to Bone
3. Oh Captain (My Captain), Our Fearful Trip is Done
4. Smoke and Ashes Brushed Off with Ink
5. If I Fall, Can You Pull Me Up?
Send Me Top 5 or Really Any Asks Cus I'm BORED
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134340am · 2 years
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if not now, then when?
gojo satoru x afab!reader, 1.1k words warnings: cum, cum/creampie eating, fingering, shower sex nsfw — minors do not interact.
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“where does it go?”
“where does what go?”
“well, you know.” satoru gestures vaguely towards your nether region. “my cum.”
“gross, satoru.” you tug on his elbow to turn him around and he does, baring his back to you, and you scrub your soapy loofah down the wide expanse of his back. “but if you must know, it sort of leaks out after a while. that’s why i wear a liner—” you point over his shoulder to the thin lime green pad sitting on the bathroom counter. “—it catches the excess.”
satoru turns to look at you, bright blue eyes flashing with curiosity and mischief. “meaning there’s still some of it inside you now?” he asks with a shit-eating grin.
“gross, satoru!” you repeat, and drag him under the spray so he can wash the soap off. “i mean, yes, but did you really have to ask?”
“i was just curious!” he laughs, and the tiny shower booth amplifies the sound all around you, interlaced with the pitter-patter of water on the tiles. “say, sweetheart— would you let me do the honours of getting the rest out?” 
“now?” 
“if not now, then when?”
you still, hands on your boyfriend’s chest, and seriously contemplate if it was worth giving in to him and his curiosity this time. because as much as you liked his fingers (especially so when they were inside you in some way), you were also looking forward to heading straight to bed after this for a good, long sleep.
“c’mon, don’t overthink it,” satoru insists, shaking droplets of water from his hair. he peeks at you through his fringe, almost shyly, though you know gojo satoru is anything but shy. “leg up, babe.” 
you let him hoist your leg around his bony hip and grimace at the stretch—you were still sore from the past three rounds that happened an hour ago. yet, you couldn’t resist the steady waves of pleasure pooling in your stomach as satoru sucks on two fingers before pushing them inside of you slowly. 
you moan, a breathy, almost tired one. you feel his fingers rubbing up against your walls, scissoring, then pumping in and out of you in a steady rhythm. a particularly firm press against the spongy spot up front had you arching into satoru, hands slipping and sliding and clawing at his wet shoulders.
“that’s the spot, huh?” your lover murmurs, entranced. he tears his gaze away from the tempting sight of you swallowing up his lithe fingers to look you in the eye. “does it feel good?”
“you know it does,” you groan, then pull him closer by the neck to kiss him. 
the kiss was messy, full of loud smacks that reverberated around the walls of your shower stall. the way your lover’s finger crooks up inside you, rubbing at your sore spot without mercy, had you moaning into his mouth breathlessly and whining when he adds his ring finger to the mix.  
you break away from the kiss, panting. “satoru, do you plan on cleaning me up or were you just looking for an excuse to finger me in the shower?” 
“cleaning you up, of course. look.” he pulls out, bringing his hand up to your faces to scrutinise the milky white coating on his fingers—a sticky mixture of your release and his from that night. the pair of you watch with bated breaths as satoru turns his hand over, slick glinting over his knuckles and webbing between his fingers. “aren’t i doing a good job?” 
you open your mouth to retort, ready to reprimand him for being a filthy freak, but find yourself unable to speak when your boyfriend sticks his soiled fingers into your mouth with a laugh. 
“i know you're about to call me a filthy freak, babe.” he chuckles while your face burns with embarrassment, though that doesn’t stop you from sucking off his fingers on instinct. 
“takes one to know one,” you spit when he finally pulls his fingers out to return them between your thighs, but you could barely finish your sentence before satoru’s licking hotly into your mouth again, tasting the heady mixture of your release and his.
you can feel him pressed up against your stomach now, hot and leaking and raring to go. yet, satoru makes no move to try and fuck you, instead content with having his fingers stuffed deep inside you. any complaints you had about soreness and the general inconvenience of shower sex went down the drain when your lover thumbs at your clit, rubbing rhythmic circles that had you crying out his name in shame. 
“gonna cum,” you choked out, arms looping around satoru’s neck to bring him closer. “g-gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum—”
“that was fast,” he chuckles, leaning down to kiss your forehead in what seemed like a reward. “c’mon, sweet. cum for me.” satoru’s quiet encouragement was worlds different from his usual mischievous tone. “you can do it.”
“i fucking know i can,” you whimper, though the irritation in your voice was lost to pleasure as you climaxed around his fingers. stomach cramping, skin still hot and sensitive to touch, you slump into your lover while he helps you ride the last throes of pleasure.
“good job, babe. that’s the fourth one tonight. is that a new record?”
“i’unno. probably.”
“nice.” 
satoru pulls you up and holds you steady, arms wrapping around your waist tightly. you let yourself lean all of your weight on your lover while he kisses your hair, then the tip of your ear, then your burning cheek. 
propping you up against him with one arm while the other flips the shower on, satoru guides you under the spray again once a cautionary foot ascertains that the water is warm enough. you sigh into his chest, your breathing evening out while your lover rubs your back encouragingly. sure, you were more tired than before—and you were even stickier between the legs now—but you can’t say you regretted the mindblowing orgasm that came out of this. plus, you were pretty sure you’d have the best sleep of your life once you dried off—which is one of your favourite things about your partner’s high libido. speaking of which…
“s’toru,” you slur into his skin tiredly. “you didn’t cum.”
“it’s fine, sweetheart. i’ll take care of it once i bring you to bed.”
you glance up at him and are taken aback to see the sincerity in his expression; no just kidding, babe! or you can suck me off once you’re dry! lurking in wait. 
“that’s sweet, baby.” you lean up to peck his jaw, and pull back to see his smile mirror yours. “who are you and what did you do to my touch-starved, blowjob-loving, filthy freak gojo satoru?”
“he’ll be back tomorrow morning,” your partner promises, tilting your head back gently to capture your lips in a kiss. when he pulls back, however, his soft smile has turned into a proud smirk. “after all, it’s only right for me to fill you up again now that i’ve emptied you nice and clean, no?”
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a/n: i am not a gojo fucker
(masterlist)
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iheart-nana · 4 months
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﹒ ʬʬ ﹒₊﹒✶﹑kissin' and hope they caught us﹏ ﹪
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like the moodboard? it's a teaser for an upcoming fanfic! make sure u follow me and stay tuned! thank you, bye!! <33
oc by: @the-one-and-only-delphi
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ariparri · 4 months
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“Oh wow, you’re hot”
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Thoma recounts his first days within Inazuma to Aether and Paimon, detailing the shipwreck, his introduction to the Kamisato siblings, and how they welcomed him as their housekeeper. He vividly recalls his fateful encounter with Yuna, which adds a humorous twist to the memory.
Word Count: 2490
Warnings: None
Genshin Impact Masterlist
This story was inspired by an actual scenario that happened with me and my friends, decided to stick with Thoma since I ship Yuna with him (๑>◡<๑) And he’s much easier for me to write for! I also ended up dragging the ending on a little too much ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ
I don’t write x Reader or Y/N, but if you want to use those in place of Yuna you’re free to do so!
Also posted on AO3!
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The air in the serene Kamisato estate carries the scent of cherry blossoms as Thoma, Aether, and Paimon find respite beneath the blooming trees. There was a warm smile on Thoma’s face as he begins to share the tale of his arrival in Inazuma.
"It all started with the shipwreck," Thoma begins, his voice carrying the echoes of that fateful day. "I was originally from Mondstadt, you know. I planned to visit my father here in Inazuma and brought with me some dandelion wine to give him.” Thoma's gaze turns wistful as he reflects on the memories of that voyage. “But then the boat sunk. I was washed ashore, disoriented and unsure of what awaited me in this unfamiliar land." As he speaks, the petals of the cherry blossoms swirl around them, creating a whimsical atmosphere.
Thoma recounts the providential encounter with the Kamisato siblings, Ayato and Ayaka, who extended a generous hand and offered him both a home and a purpose. "They welcomed me into their home with open arms. The Kamisato estate became my sanctuary, and my duties as a housekeeper allowed me to repay their kindness," Thoma explains.
He delves into the unique tasks and responsibilities that came with his role. “There was one day when Lord Ayato told me that he was expecting a report from the Tenryou Commission. It was to be delivered by someone from the Noguchi Clan.” Paimon’s eyes lit up at the mention of the Noguchi Clan, “Oh, was that someone Yuna?” Thoma chuckled, giving them a nod, “Yep! It was my first time meeting Yuna too!” Thoma continues, a twinkle in his eye. “Being part of the Noguchi Clan, she acts a lot as a messenger for Lady Saori, you know the Lt. General of the Tenryou Commission. And let me tell you, my first meeting with Yuna was quite... interesting."
Thoma's laughter punctuates the story, and Aether and Paimon lean in, eager to hear more. "Yuna has a way of making a lasting impression," Thoma adds with a chuckle. "But it was that unexpected moment that definitely made us closer."
Thoma was informed by Ayato that he was expecting a letter from a member of the Tenryou Commission. He was currently accompanying Ayaka in the garden when he heard footsteps approaching and he turned his attention towards the entrance to see a young woman with long pink hair step through the door. “Hello Lady Ayaka! Is Lord Ayato here? I’m here to deliver a report for him!” She holds up the letter in her hand with a big grin.
Ayaka as sweet as ever, greets Yuna with a cheerful smile, “Yuna, it’s so nice to see you again! My brother is currently out right now, but he should be back soon. Why don’t you join us till he gets back?” The Kamisato heiress scoots over to make some room for Yuna who happily skips over to her. “Oh if you don’t mind, I’d love to!”
However, before she was able to take a seat and regale Ayaka with her tales of the day Yuna's gaze turned to Thoma who returned it with a charming smile. This being their first time meeting, Thoma opens his mouth to speak. Though, his attempt to introduce himself takes an unexpected turn when Yuna, seemingly without control, blurts out, "Oh wow, you're hot."
The statement hangs in the air, and a moment of stunned silence takes over the garden. Thoma with a red face, can't help but chuckle nervously, and Ayaka, attempting to conceal her amusement behind her fan, couldn’t help but giggle.
"Aah!" Before anyone can fully process the situation, Yuna’s fully panicked cries fills the air as she hastily retreats from the garden. Ayaka and Thoma watches as she flees from the garden, her embarrassed cries echo through the estate as she rushes out. However, she abruptly returns to the two were sitting, slamming the letter onto the table before making her urgent exit once again. All the while letting out a series of embarrassed yelps and cries.
Thoma, still surprised, watched the spectacle unfold, while Ayaka's composed demeanor finally gives way to laughter. "Ah, that was Yuna from the Noguchi Clan," Ayaka explains with a smile. "Don't mind her; she can be quite... eccentric. But it seems she likes you!” Thoma, regaining his composure, responds with a sheepish grin, "Well, that was certainly unexpected." He glances towards the doorway, where Yuna had disappeared, her embarrassed yelps still audible in the distance. Ayaka chuckles, "Yuna has a unique way of expressing herself. She's been a dear friend for a long time." The duo shares a moment of amusement, with Ayaka gracefully accepting Yuna's eccentricities.
As they settle back into the peaceful garden scene, Thoma, still a bit flustered, remarks, "I suppose every encounter with Yuna is an adventure in its own right." Ayaka nods in agreement, "Indeed, it keeps things interesting here." The awkward but endearing encounter adds a touch of humor to the serene garden, and Thoma, though red-faced, can't help but join in Ayaka's suppressed giggles. The unexpected visit from Yuna becomes a topic of light-hearted conversation whenever Thoma, Ayaka, Yuna and Ayato reminisce about their past.
Paimon and Aether burst into laughter, thoroughly entertained by Thoma's recount of his first meeting with Yuna. "Wow, Saori wasn't kidding when she said Yuna acted upon her intrusive thoughts!" Paimon exclaims, earning a nod of agreement from Aether. Thoma joins in with a good-natured smile, "Haha, yeah, Yuna can be bold at times."
As Thoma continues to share his stories, he chuckles at the memories of Ayato's playful teasing. "Lord Ayato never missed a chance to poke fun at Yuna," Thoma explains to Aether and Paimon. "Every time she delivered reports or was just spending her free time here, he would ask her if she found him attractive as well. It became a sort of inside joke between us."
He goes on to describe the scene: Yuna, blushing furiously, would stumble over her words in response to Ayato's jests. The sound of a letter being hastily placed on the table would punctuate the moment, and then she would make a swift exit. Thoma mimics her exaggerated wailing, adding a touch of humor to the recounting, "You could hear her little protests echoing through the estate until they faded into the distance as she made her escape." The trio shares a hearty laugh at the comical dynamics within the Kamisato household, and Thoma concludes, "Despite all the teasing, it was obvious that Yuna wasn’t bothered by it at all.”
As they share a light moment, the atmosphere becomes even more joyous when Thoma's eyes light up at the sight of Yuna approaching, accompanied by the adorable Taroumaru. "Hey, guys, sorry I'm late! Taroumaru kept trying to eat all the snacks!" Yuna calls out cheerfully, joining the group and settling down beside Thoma. She begins to prepare food from her basket, but her attention is drawn to the amused expressions on Aether and Paimon's faces. "What?" Yuna questions, her curiosity evident. Paimon, unable to contain her laughter, snickers before playfully asking “So Yuna, did you also think Aether was attractive upon our first meeting?”
A look of horror crosses Yuna's face before she turns her gaze toward Thoma. "You told them?!" she exclaims, her embarrassment evident. Paimon and Aether burst into laughter as Thoma attempts to soothe Yuna's distress with a lighthearted chuckle. "Hey, it wasn't that bad! I thought it was cute! And I’m absolutely flattered by your bold compliments!" Thoma reassures, joining in the laughter at Yuna’s whines of protests. He's well aware that Yuna, far from being genuinely upset, thrives on the playful banter that has become a routine part of her interactions with Ayato, Ayaka, and now, him.
Paimon snickers mischievously, unable to contain the amusement. "Paimon thought it was cute too, Yuna! Most people tend to beat around the bush or play hard to get, but you went straight to the point!" The little pixie chimes in with enthusiasm. Aether nods in agreement, a warm smile on his face, appreciating the lighthearted atmosphere. Yuna, unable to keep up the facade, breaks into a grin, surrendering to the laughter. "Okay, okay, so maybe I have a flair for the dramatics," she admits with a playful twinkle in her eye, fully embracing her penchant for theatricality. Thoma, still chuckling, playfully nudges her shoulder. "You love the attention, don't deny it."
As the laughter subsides, the group settles into a comfortable atmosphere, surrounded by the tranquility of the cherry blossom scene around. Yuna, now grinning, playfully nudges Thoma back. "Guilty as charged!" she admits, her eyes sparkling with mirth. Thoma, still amused, glances at Aether and Paimon. "You see, these moments have become a regular occurrence around here. Yuna has a way of keeping things lively," he says with a fondness in his voice. Aether and Paimon, fully immersed in the playful atmosphere, nod appreciatively. "Well, it seems like you've got a great group here," Aether remarks, his eyes reflecting the genuine warmth of their shared bond.
Yuna with her never ending energy, sits up with a newfound excitement. "Alright, enough about my dramatic tendencies. Let's enjoy this beautiful day!" she declares, rallying everyone as she takes charge of the mood. Thoma, Aether, and Paimon follow suit, ready to dig in to the food and snacks Yuna had brought with her for their hang out. Yuna, bubbling with energy, reaches into her basket and pulls out a batch of freshly made dango. "Let's start off with a touch of sweetness first!" she exclaims, holding one out to Thoma with a mischievous grin. Thoma, still chuckling, accepts the dango with a playful wink, savoring the delightful treat.
As Yuna playfully feeds Thoma, Paimon takes the rest of the tasty treat barely leaving any for Aether, leaving him to take some of the mochi Yuna also packed. Yuna and Thoma share a laugh at their new companions as they proceed to fight over the other snacks. However, the playful moment is interrupted by a bark from Taroumaru, who's been patiently waiting for his share of attention.
Yuna laughs, acknowledging their furry companion. "Alright, alright, Taroumaru! Your turn!" she says reaching into the basket for a small container filled with more dango. “Made these especially for you, boy! I used tuna and sweet potato for them!” She takes one ball off of the skewer, offering it to Taroumaru, which he eagerly accepts with a wag of his tail. As she continues to alternate between feeding Taroumaru and herself, Yuna settles down with the others, and the conversation seamlessly drifts towards tales of their adventures, both within and beyond the borders of Inazuma.
Yuna takes the lead as story teller, regaling them with her experiences while delivering messages and running errands across the region, adding a touch of her signature flair to every narrative. Thoma, Aether, and Paimon listen with genuine interest, captivated by Yuna’s stories and laughing at random moments from her experiences. Taroumaru, having enjoyed his share of attention and treats, curls up contentedly within Yuna’s arms, becoming a quiet but cheerful presence in the group.
Yuna’s attention eventually becomes increasingly devoted to Taroumaru. The playful pup, sensing his moment in the spotlight, demands more affection and treats, leaving Thoma to playfully feign neglect. Thoma, with a mock pout, teases, "Oh, I see how it is. I thought we were bonding, but I guess Taroumaru is stealing your attention." Yuna, caught in the act of pampering the enthusiastic pup, laughs heartily. "Don't be jealous, Thoma! Taroumaru just knows how to steal my heart," she replies with a grin.
Aether and Paimon join in the playful banter, cheering on Taroumaru's antics. "Looks like you've got some competition, Thoma," Paimon teases, prompting more laughter from the group. Thoma, not one to be outdone, decides to join the fun, pretending to be dramatically heartbroken by the canine usurper. "I guess I'll have to compete with a dog for attention now." The group erupted into laughter once more.
With a twinkle in her eye, Yuna decides to play along. "Oh, Thoma, don't be like that! There's enough love to go around," she reassures, reaching over to give him a friendly pat on the back. Thoma, still playing up the act, flashes a mockingly hurt expression, but his eyes betray a spark of amusement. "Well, if you insist, Yuna. I wouldn't want to deprive Taroumaru of his moment in the spotlight," he replies with a theatrical sigh. Yuna, undeterred by Thoma's feigned jealousy, decides to sweeten the mood even further. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she declares, "Oh hush, you! I'll feed you some of my special monaka!" Adjusting Taroumaru in her arms, she reaches back into the basket, producing another container filled with delicate tsubaki-shaped crispy wafers, each harboring a sweet, creamy filling.
"Saved these for last! Here!" Yuna holds out one of the monaka treats to Thoma, the anticipation evident in her eyes as she waits for him to take a bite. Thoma, unable to keep up the act any longer, grins and accepts the treat with genuine appreciation. Taking a delicate bite, Thoma is met with a burst of delightful flavors, and he can't help but compliment Yuna on her culinary skills. "These are amazing, Yuna! You really have a talent for making everything special." A light blush adorns Yuna’s face as she hides behind Taroumaru, “Hehe, thank you, Thoma!”
As Thoma and Yuna share a moment of genuine connection over the delectable treats, Paimon, always one to seize an opportunity for delicious food, makes her move. "Oh, that looks good! Can Paimon have some too, Yuna?" she asks with wide, pleading eyes, fixated on the container. Caught up in the whimsical atmosphere, Yuna happily extends the container toward Paimon, ready to share the delights. However, in a flash, Paimon seizes more than her fair share, leaving only three monaka treats in the container. "Paimon! Don't be stingy, save some for the rest of us!" Aether exclaims, scolding Paimon for her eating habits.
Paimon, undeterred and with a mischievous glint in her eyes, cheekily retorts, "What? These treats are too tasty to resist!" She hovers near the container, seemingly unapologetic for her impulsive snack raid. Thoma, amused by the sudden turn of events, bursts into laughter. "Well, I guess Paimon has a point. Food this good is hard to share!" He says, his playful demeanor adding to the light-hearted atmosphere. “I’m sure Yuna wouldn’t mind making some more later, would you Yuna?” He turns his attention over to the girl sitting beside him. She nodded eagerly, “Of course! Though, next time I’ll make sure to make a whole lot more.” She giggled as Paimon takes the last three monaka treats from the container, stuffing them in her mouth before Aether can grab one. “Paimon looks forward to it!”
“Paimon don’t eat with your mouth full!”
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meimi-haneoka · 3 months
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{drabble} Somewhere I belong - Kaito/Akiho
This is the second Kaito x Akiho / YunaAki drabble that is paired with the first one I wrote from Akiho's POV. Please read that one first so you can have a better understanding of the situation!
The setting is the same as the first drabble, but Kaito's thoughts drift all over the place because....well, he's Kaito. He's been officially named as the "overthinker" by CLAMP so now I'm going to call him that for quite some time 😂
As you will be able to see, while Akiho thought to herself without problems that she loved him, you won't see Kaito thinking that, here. This is a very early stage of their new life and he's still far from acknowledging any of that, but he's starting to come to terms with things, at least.
This one might be a bit more angstier than the other one, again because this is Kaito we're talking about. His self-loathing won't disappear overnight. But I hope that the finale will comfort you, at least. ❤️
Once again, I'm not a native English speaker so forgive me if any line sounds weird!
P.s. Dandelion, thank you again! P.s.2 Yes, I also like Linkin Park 😁
Excerpt:
“I’m sorry...”, I blurted out, in a whisper. Every time we ended up in this situation, I would apologize. And she would never reply to it.   Maybe an apology wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but I had yet to find out what were the right words to say. 
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Kaito's POV
I don't think I'll ever be able to forget it. 
The way she looked at me when they told her everything, that night.  The way she had slowly turned her head and kept her gaze fixed on me, while the British magician rattled off all that my plan had entailed, down to the way it had affected my body. He recovered all the previous memories, and he knew Akiho-san needed an explanation more than anyone else, but also knew I was in no condition (neither mental, nor physical) to give it to her. I could feel her gaze piercing through me, while someone was helping me sitting down, as I couldn't even stand up. 
Her hands gripped tightly the tablet, shaking. Her blue eyes, usually crystalline and bright like the Caribbean Sea, darkened several shades and became like a raging storm. They once again glazed over with emerging tears, but she probably held them back, because not even one dropped. 
And I felt so weak. My guilt, growing again by the second.   I would've given anything to remove that hardened gaze from her and bring back the soft features I've always known. But you see, that was my problem.   Giving everything the way I did before wasn’t the correct answer. And I had finally surrendered to the truth, that night.  But I didn't know any other way. I simply didn't know how to express how important she is to me without pushing it to an extreme, and that was exactly how we came to that point.  
I don’t know when exactly I started to hear that voice inside of me, telling me that I wanted to connect with her. 
I could hear it every day, before I carried out my plan. Louder and louder and louder. Kicking and screaming inside of me. I tried to fight it for so long, forcing myself not to hear it. But when she asked Sakura-san to bring me back, and she stated that she refused to keep living a fabricated life, wanting to go back to what she had before with me, I suddenly grew so tired. So, so tired. I was exhausted. I didn't want to fight it anymore. 
I've fought countless magicians ever since I was a little boy, and defeated every single one of them. People kept me at a distance for that. And yet, completely oblivious to all of that, she was the one who defeated me every single time.   Even this time around, she won. She won over that brutal, devastating desire to disappear forever that had consumed my life to such degree. She won over my guilt and self-loathing that I, quite frankly, haven’t got rid of yet. 
So here I was, now, clinging to her like a lifeline in the kitchen, while I waited to regain control of my breathing. I had tried to hide it from her, the first couple of times after I got back on my feet, following that fateful night. But she found out every single time and made very clear that if we wanted to live together from now on, this had to stop. I didn't know what to do with myself anymore. Why was I fighting it again?  So I did as she requested, and by now, this was already the third episode of seizure she had witnessed. 
I didn't know.... how any of this worked. But I wanted to learn. I wanted to try. 
I was slowly starting to get it. Why I caved in and agreed to go back to her, that night, despite how confused I was and how much I still despised myself for making her cry like that.   She made me feel wanted.   Made me feel accepted. Made me feel like I finally belonged somewhere. I hadn’t realized how much I actually had yearned for that, all this time. 
I thought I was nothing to her. I thought that she could've lived perfectly fine without me, without remembering anything of what we experienced together. Because, in the end, who was I? Just her butler. I embarked on that mission with the full understanding that I would've always been just her butler, and I played that part till the end at the best of my ability. An expendable tool to let her reach the happiness she deserved.  
But I wasn't. I wasn't, and I couldn't see that. I could only finally realize it that night in the most harrowing way possible, causing that face I wished to see eternally smile to be tainted with burning tears, as she poured out all her pain. Pain that I had caused. This wasn't the kind of support she wanted from me, and I failed her terribly. 
I was willing to do anything to make things right. So when she asked me, no, rather demanded to not be kept in the dark whenever I had one of my seizures, I had no choice but to comply. That was what she wanted, and there was no way I could refuse it to her. 
But now that the medicine was finally starting to kick in, and my breathing stabilized to a more normal rate, I raised my head to look at her worried face and I couldn’t help but think how unfair all of this was on her. She was so young, and she didn’t deserve to withstand all of this because of my choices.  
“I’m sorry...”, I blurted out, in a whisper. Every time we ended up in this situation, I would apologize. And she would never reply to it.   Maybe an apology wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but I had yet to find out what were the right words to say. 
She helped me stand up and supported me all the way to the couch, where I finally laid down and released the tension from my stiffened muscles. Seizures usually left me completely exhausted and sore.  
She sat down on the floor next to the couch, and we exchanged a long, wordless stare. Her eyes were again clear and bright. Before I drifted in a dreamless heavy sleep, I remember I felt so grateful to have her by my side.   I didn’t deserve it.   But the warmth I felt in my chest, contrarily to before, felt so nice.   And I was pretty sure she was the cause of it. 
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kimetsu-chan · 4 months
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~KNY Masterlist~
Key:
Angst-☔️
Fluff- 🌻
Ship- 💕
Platonic Relationship- 🪼
Oc- 🪐
Comfort- 🍀
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~Yuna Handa fics~
Yuna’s death ☔️ 🪐 🪼
~”Why Her?!”~ ☔️ 🪐 🪼
~Relief~ 🌻 🪐 🪼
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~Requests~
~“They’re just cats?”~ TanjMilo 💕 🌻 🪐
~A Hot Summer Day~ MuiSato 💕 🌻 🪐
~First Snow and Confessions~ MuiKiyo 💕 🌻 🪐
~”Where did you go?!”~ MariMui 💕 🌻 🪐
~Panic~ YuiLona ☔️ 🌻 💕 🪐
~Gone~ TanjMilo ☔️ 🌻 💕 🪐
~Comfort in a Time Like This~ Yuichiro T. x GN!reader x Muichiro T. ☔️ 🍀 🌻
~A Helping Hand~ Giyuu and Milo 🍀 🪐 🪼
~Overworked~ TanjMilo ☔️ 🍀 🪐 💕
~Acceptable~ GiYuLo+Tanjiro 🪐💕🪼🌻
~Unknown Feelings~ Muichiro T. x reader 🍀 💕 🌻
~Passive Aggression~ Semi pt. 2 to Unknown Feelings
~Frustration~ MariMui 🪐 💕 🌻
~Hashira Headcanons~ All Hashira 🪼 🌻
~Don’t Stress~ ZenTari 🪐 💕 🌻
~Reactions to Milo’s Death~ various characters ☔️ 🪐 🪼 💕
~No Filter~ TanjMilo 🪐 💕 🌻
~Heights~ ZenTari 🪐 💕 🌻
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~Emergency Requests~
~Pain~ Tanjiro K. x GN!reader 🍀 🌻
~”Go to sleep, okay?”~ MuiKiyo ☔️ 🍀 🌻 🪐
~Outcast~ GiYuki ☔️ 🍀 🌻 🪐 💕
~The Way You Are~ Zeno A. X Fem!Reader ☔️ 🍀 💕 🪐
~Take Your Time~ Zeno A. X GN!Reader 🍀 💕/🪼 🪐
~Thunder~ Zeno A. X GN!Reader 🍀 💕 🪐
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~My Choice~
~Solitude~Muichiro T. x GN!Reader 🌻 💕
~Insecurities~ TanjMilo 🍀 💕 🪐
Biological!GiYuLo headcanons
~Happy Birthday~ GiYuLo 🌻 💕 🪐 🪼
~Zeno Headcanons~
~”I know sweetheart, I know”~ Zeno A. x gn!/f!reader 🍀 🪐 💕
~Out of Character~ A Milo centered crackfic
~Over~ Zeno A./Aneko R. 🪐 ☔️
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(Credits to @saradika for the dividers)
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