#but Osaka is a bit too far

[sseomtada]

stick [lewis hamilton]

you show lewis how to drift like a local.

warnings: 18+++ | wc: 5872 | part: 1/1

a/n: this was supposed to be finished in time for suzuka. anyways..do Not tell my dad why i really asked about his driving days...#pureresearch

“I keep hearing the word hashiriya, what does it mean?”

His question came as you hiked through the narrow path he’d been apprehensive to take at first. You didn’t blame him for that. If someone you’d reached out to only a few months ago on Instagram offered to take you to an obscure location in a foreign country in the middle of the night, you’d be constantly looking over your shoulder too.

“That’s what they call us, street racers. Well, not you.” You squinted at dim lights in the distance. “We’re almost there.”

He scoffed in disbelief. “Am I not?”

Your steps quickened in an effort to leave the chilly air and meet the engines purring not too far off.  Lewis was right beside you, his ears perking up when he registered the sound as well. It made his shoulders relax.

“Someone who drives in a highly regulated series that leaves no room for imagination or creativity is not hashiriya.” You laughed.

“Hey! I drift a little too…” He joined in.

Just before reaching your destination, you stopped and stepped in front of him. If he didn’t want to completely stick out like a sore thumb, some pretext had to be given. You were also vouching for him. So the last thing you wanted was to be teased by your group for bringing a full fledged newbie on their run.

You held out a hand. When Lewis looked at you with confusion, you sighed and grabbed one of his. The way your dad taught you was a mix of tactile and visual. Something about that always worked better for you and seemed to for the other drivers you helped.

“What you do is more manji, that’s when you fishtail or high speed drift.” Your finger moved down the middle of his palm, veering off left at his knuckle.

His eyes followed and then met yours. “Is that not what we’re doing here?”

“In my team, we do choku dori. It’s like sliding back and forth.” You zig-zagged your finger down his whole palm. “To do this style you need to have complete control, full trust in the car and yourself, and a bit of madness.”

Lewis nodded, but the tension had returned to his shoulders.

“We’ll do a few runs at the port before heading out.” Your hand closed around his, squeezing reassuringly. “Any other questions?”

“Actually, yes.” He aimed a thumb back at the direction you walked. “Why did we park down there?”

That made you smile sheepishly. The thing about what you were doing was that it technically wasn’t legal, and by that you meant it fully wasn’t. Drifting itself was permitted by law, but ripping through Osaka’s narrow, weaving mountain public roads? No so much.

“It’s a safety precaution incase the cops show up. Some stay behind to use the road cars to bail us out. We hide them because of plates and registrations - don’t need those present in a lot with a bunch of tire marks.” You tried to explain in a way that wouldn’t make him too anxious.

Ya!

The greeting echoed from your leader who waved from the hood of his car. You returned it and began to jog over. When Lewis was noticeably trailing further behind than before, you spun with a cheeky grin, goading:

“You coming or not, pretty boy?”

His laid back demeanor immediately returned at the name you’d jokingly began calling him after his initial DM. It was the first thing that came to your mind. Professional drivers in F1 were so polished with their well maintained images and brand deals, far from anything in your world. On top of that, well, he was objectively gorgeous.

Lewis caught up, challenging gaze meeting your own. He looked like he was contemplating a comeback that would make you eat your words. Ultimately, he knew just like you did the only way he could do that was behind the wheel.

Everyone size him up as he came into view. They were aware of who he was, but his status meant nothing in this crowd. He received respectful greetings and that was about as far as it went for acknowledgement. If he wanted the same praise he got on race weekends, he’d have to earn it.

Turbo charged engines fire up all around you. Gasoline and clutch fluid fused into the crisp, cool air, burning tires soon marring the sky with smoke. You crept up on your mechanic who jumped, nearly banging his head on the underside of your open hood.

“How’s she looking?” The last run was pretty taxing, you’d barely lugged it back to the garage before stalling.

“Like 90’s Pam Anderson after the improvements.” He smoothed his hand over your black Silvia.

Your eyes rolled, “What do you have for my friend?”

“TO4Z HK5 freshly installed in this san ni.” He motioned at the Skyline next to your car.

Lewis took a walk around to check out the vehicle. You saw him smile as he noticed the paint job was fresh, body now wrapped in a deep purple. It made you jealous. Your car still wore some of the scars from the last barrier you kissed.

“Let’s see what you got!” You hurled in his direction as you slid into your driver’s seat.

Vibrations shot through your body once you started her up. Since you were just testing how she felt more than anything, you didn’t push much. The rears were working just like you wanted them to. They grappled for traction on the straights and as you swung left, you got the perfect amount of oversteer to whip into the night’s first drift.

Behind you, Lewis was stressing his own cylinders. You cut your engine and leaned out of your window to watch him. He was admittedly good, better than you expected. To go from handling a car where a sliding rear was an issue to one where it was essential, and to do so with precision, wasn’t a small feat. He rounded off his practice run with a Scandinavian flick that resembled your own, though he was a bit shakier on the entrance.

“Wanna try something with me?” Your finger ran along the edge of his window.

“Sure, what?” Lewis breathed heavily, still on a high from having his body thrown about.

“Tsuisou.” Your cheeks rose.

It was tandem, when two cares drifted together. With his skill level, you think he was ready to have a go at it. Practicing extra precision would also help him when you took to the steep, weaving road.

He looked unsure at the suggestion, which was actually a good thing. If he had been too eager to give it a shot, you might’ve changed your mind. It was among the most dangerous forms of drifting should drivers lose control. You had faith in him though.

“Think about it as a dance. Just follow my lead.” Your hand gave his door a pat before you jogged back to your car.

She was in way better condition than the last time you drove her, another reason you wanted to do this. You shot down the lot’s makeshift circuit and swung your car into the first corner. Right as your instincts signaled that you’d reached the limit before you’d spin out, you straightened up to build momentum.

You continued. Drift left, drift right, left once more and straighten. Once you’d completed your lap, you pulled up beside Lewis and caught his eye. He gave you a thumbs up. With a wolfish grin, you peeled off again.

Your car was half a length in front of his and then cleared it with about that width in between. As soon as you pulled the wheel right to swing the Silvia out in the opposite direction, he did the same to his Skyline. The short left drift entered a long right and into an even more extended left as you both turned the corner.

He was nearly there, his front windows level with your back. Going into the next turn, you repeated the same action - short left for the set up, long right to really provide the push and then, magic.

Lewis lined up perfectly beside you. For a split second, right in the heart of the corner, your front windows were level with your cars barely a few feet apart. You swore you heard him cackling loudly before you tore down the straight to prepare for the next one.

The feeling was exhilarating. There was no space in your mind for worries that stressed you out on the daily when the beast of a machine you wielded demanded every inch of it. The freedom in those seconds you let the car just be all that it is, your hands hovering barely an inch above the wheel while in full lock, was incomparable.

And getting to do that alongside him made this night one of the best in your life.

Everyone turned their high beams on, signaling that they were headed out. In your rear view, you could see Lewis brimming with excitement. A far cry from the man who looked so apprehensive on your walk through the desire path carved wilderness earlier.

Soon, Osaka’s night sky was buzzing with a hive of engines combing through its mountains. Rocky hillside blurred by your vision on the right while shining barriers leading to the forests’ black abyss went by on your left.

A symphony a cars played out to no other witnesses but the ones behind their wheels. Every inch on either side of the tarmac was used as you slid, never feeling fear creep in even as your Silvia’s nose threatened to meet the apex of a bend.

Once uphill, you followed the leaders who burned puffs of smoke while hard breaking in preparation to go back down. The large hand break lever found itself under your forceful grip to spin your car in a one eighty to a full stop.

You leaned out of your window once Lewis pulled up behind you in the same manner to shout:

“This is the fun part, pretty boy!”

With that, you dropped the clutch and your rears broke traction. Going downhill was like opening yourself up to the world, a rollercoaster in the most maddening sense. Your speedometer had been rendered useless by the controlled chaos of your speedy free fall. You imagined this was what a deity felt like as your hands guided the car to become a pendulum.

Down the hill, hazards before you flashed in warning to slow. You did the same for Lewis trailing close behind and finally took a second to breathe. A sense of ease filled your racing heart while you passed by some of the others drivers. Aside from one hanging rear fender and a few broken tail lights, everyone would be making it back home in one piece.

“So, what did you think of your first real drifting experience?” You asked Lewis while you drove him back to his hotel.

“I honestly can’t even find the words it’s…” His eyes reflected the city’s lights. “Brutal and beautiful all at the same time.”

That was a good way to describe the craft in many senses. The cars themselves were crude instruments on the inside, often chimeras of sorts with mismatched parts and missing pieces traditionally found in vehicles. That was hard to tell from the exterior. The group you ran with took pride in expressing their creativity through vibrant wraps, lights and embellishments.

Drifting itself was nothing short of vicious. Tires were shredded through like paper and engines with decade long lifespans were shortened to about half that. But the moments you created with car, that raw, incomparable sense of liberation achieved when you weaved - would last until your dying breath.

“Now you sound like a hashiriya.” You beamed proudly.

He chuckled and settled into his seat, head nestled comfortably against its rest. It wasn’t long until you pulled up to his fancy accommodation. You expected nothing less of an F1 driver than staying at the W.

“Are you tired?” Your gazed raked down the column of his neck.

“Not remotely.” Lewis cracked an eye in your direction. “If you’re not, do you wanna join me for a drink?”

You squinted. “But you don’t.”

“I never said it had to be alcoholic.” His retort came cheekily.

He’d clearly been waiting for his turn to one up you with banter. You were anything but a sore loser though and would never argue when you were wrong. The keys to your road car ended up in the hands of a valet as you found yourself the one walking with timidness into his arena.

It hit you rather belatedly that there was no need to be self-conscious. At this time of night, any censorious glares you might’ve received were absent. There was no one around to make you feel out of place in your oversized clothing.

Steps echoed as you walked with Lewis through the pink lit welcome tunnel through to the lobby with its geometric shaped roof to elevators. The only bar open at this hour would be the one in his suite. You obviously knew that before handing off your car, possible implications included.

To your surprise and his credit, Lewis had been very respectful during your time with him. You were a flirtatious person by nature and it often made you end up having awkward conversations with friends later. He didn’t seem to read too much into your vampish manner of speech. While your energy was met, no boundaries were ever crossed by him.

“Are your views always like this?” You gawked once entering.

Your feet quickly slipped out of your sneakers before you raced to the three paneled floor to ceiling windows. The room was so high up that you cleared the top of every other sky scraper around, their lights glimmering like thousands of stars.

“I want to say yes, but not always.” He chuckled. “Sometimes it’s nothing except clear skies and the bluest water you’ve ever seen.”

You scoffed and turned to face the main living area. Aside from the table with two high stools you were perched at, there was a sofa and a round accent chair. You flopped down onto the buttery leather couch while he popped out some glasses.

“Water, soda or sparkling juice?” Lewis listed your options.

“Juice all the way.” Something sweet but not as saccharine as soda would go down good.

He poured your requested beverage and chose the same as well before coming over to join you where you sat. Your glasses clinked with a quick cheers, the drink going down smoothly despite its bubbles.

Lewis picked your mind about how you got into your own form of racing, which was a stark contrast to your actual job. Like many of the other guys on the scene, the origins of your obsession was found in your father.

Every free moment he had away from his main responsibilities were spent on building out his car and taking it to the tracks on weekends. Your mom was extremely supportive of his driving, that being the reason she even took him up on an offer for a date.

Once you were old enough, he began taking you out to races with her. Not exactly your typical family Friday night, but it was perfect in your eyes. Your first time behind the wheel came a short while after you’d gotten your license. He was right there to guide you slowly, teaching you all you needed to know until you were ready to fly solo.

“How many times have you crashed?” Lewis raised a brow.

You blew a puff of air. “Many, maybe about twenty? I’ve completely wrecked two cars.”

“At least yours aren’t broadcasted worldwide.” He laughed, stretching his arms across the back of the sofa.

“No,” Your knees tucked in so that you sat more comfortably too. “Some were recorded though.”

“Oh, I know.” Lewis shot you a sly glance.

You felt heat rise in your body, mouth dropping open. What an absolute mortifying discovery. Crashes were just a part of the sport, but knowing that he’d somehow found footage showing one of your worst runs didn’t do much to appease your ego.

“Where did you even find that?” You ducked your head slightly.

It wasn’t necessarily an easy task to find videos of your racing online. There were still the odd forums that local drifters used to post clips of meets, but none of them were in English. You would’ve never guessed that he would stumble across one.

“I’m pretty good at falling down rabbit holes when I’m interested in a topic.” His finger tapped your shoulder.

Your eyes were drawn to the touch. You hadn’t even noticed that you’d shifted closer as the conversation continued, your legs angling to face him. Having him this near made your mind go back to a question you’d been wanting to ask, but always shied away from. There was no better time than now to find out while you were face to face.

“There are so many others with more experience, so why’d you reach out to me?” You asked softly, perhaps nervous about how he would reply.

“I went through so many videos and they were all impressive of course, but just in the way that made you think this is cool.” Lewis scratched his beard. “Then I came across a race from two years ago. The driver looked out of their league a bit, clearly up against someone who’d been doing it for a long time. There was this sense though, like they were the predator instead of the prey. And then they did this pass while drifting, so close that only a hair separated the cars, and I thought man, I need to learn from them.”

As soon as he mentioned that, you knew exactly what he was talking about. It was your famous touge, mountain pass, that went viral in an underground sense. Up until that point, you’d never pushed a car that hard but you had to because he was right, your opponent was tough and well respected.

The only way you would beat them to the finishing point was if you pulled out something exceptional. Overtaking while driving downhill on a winding mountain road curve was about as ballsy as it got. You still felt the tightness in your chest, one slip up could’ve sent your both through the guardrails and into nothingness. That was definitely top three in your driving history.

“I wasn’t expecting that answer, but I’m deeply honored.” You rested your chin on your knees.

“What did you think was my reason, then?” His dark eyes scrunched at their edges.

“Hmm, I don’t know…” Your head tilted. “I thought maybe you just wanted a cute girl to show you around.”

“Just because I didn’t add that in doesn’t mean it’s not true.” Lewis didn’t miss a beat.

There was that heat again. Though this time, the reason for its rising was far from embarrassment. It was also the first time you felt yourself flush from a flirty exchange between you two. The atmosphere probably had a lot to do with that.

“So you’re admitting that you think I’m cute?” You found yourself the one testing where the line was.

He shook his head. “You’re way more than that.”

You towed the line a little more, eyes dancing between his own and his mouth as you leaned in. Lewis met you halfway. His lips pressed to yours, sucking them in slightly before he pulled just out of reach.

Your eyes fluttered open to catch his on you, studying the way they clouded over for him. It only lasted a second. You shut them again and dove back in to kiss him once more, with conviction this time around.

He tasted of citrus and felt like the fine bristles of your hairbrush under your fingertips that glided over his jaw. You let your knees fall to the sofa so that you could bring your chest to his, shuddering as one of his warm palms worked up your back.

Lewis nipped at your bottom lip, teeth dragging the soft skin down gently until your mouth opened to welcome his tongue. Shocks went all the way down to your sock covered toes that curled in response to the feeling of it sliding against your own. When he traced the center of your tongue with the tip of his, you groaned with a filthy thought. What would that feel like between your legs?

He pulled you over to straddle him, letting you feel something else in that spot for now. Despite the layers of clothes still separating your bodies, you felt him hardening. That only grew more and more pronounced as you ground your hips into him whilst your tongues twisted - just like your panties grew in stickiness.

“I need you to touch me.” You rasped, forehead pressing to his.

“Show me where.” His breathed into your mouth.

You used your hand to guide one of his beneath the two waistbands until you met skin. Lower they went together and then you hissed when the spot was met. You piloted his digits over your swollen clit in deep, slow circles. Once he picked up the rhythm you craved, your hand retreated.

His cock strained beneath your rotating hips that pressed forward enough for his touch to provide him a bit of relief as he pleased you. You kissed his neck, licking and sucking at the throbbing vein running along its side. Lewis moved his ring finger down to tease your hole and your eyes crossed.

“Yes…” You whined.

He brushed his lips against your temple, letting the digit slip into your walls. You gasped at how easily you welcomed it, coating him with your slick, squeezing as you silently pleaded for more.  He withdrew and switched his positioning to give you just that - index and middle now tucked into you while his thumb played with your clit.

You pulled him in for a searing kiss, moans floating from the back of your throat. The fingers in your pussy curled and straighten in a motion that beckoned you to come undone for him. You’d been doing that from the moment your lips met. All of that combined with the way he still kept that torturously slow circle on your stiffened nerves, and the ball of his hand pressed against your lower belly had you leaning over the edge.

“Gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” Lewis murmured.

That threw you tumbling into bliss.

You bit down on his shoulder to suppress your cries and gasps, knees squeezing his hips as you came. Your body trembling over his uncontrollably in the same way it did when you maxed out your engine while in full lock.

“That’s it…” He stroked your hair.

A trail of wetness was left behind on your skin as his hand made a reappearance. Lewis dipped his soaked fingers into his mouth, offering you a taste from his thumb. Your lips closed around it, tongue swirling to collect every trace of yourself before you did the same in a kiss.

He grabbed your ass and stood up, your arms and legs immediately locking around him. You were met with an even more stunning view of Osaka. The bedroom seeming to float in the sky above its gritty infrastructure. It only received a second of your attention though.

You let Lewis undress you from head to toe. He freed your hair from its tie, letting it sprawl like spilled ink across the white duvet after your shirt and bra were removed. You raised your hips to let him get the remainder of your layers, left shuddering under the change in temperature and the eyes that raked over your form.

“God, look at you.” Lewis revered.

You followed his hands that cupped and massaged your breasts, erecting your nipples to their peak. Then down to your stomach and the apex of your thighs. He tugged you to the edge of the bed, kneeling as he marveled at your open, glistening center.

The deep inhale you took would be your last for a while. Even as he tested your readiness with small pecks against your other set of lips, your breaths caught short. You no longer had to wonder what the move he did earlier in your mouth would feel like as he made it a reality, his tongue dragging down your clit to your hole.

Your toes curled against the sheets, legs opening wider for him. Lewis flicked at your entrance before making an arch back up to your pulsating clit. You lost sight of everything, eyes closing while he mapped out your most sensitive parts. Once he knew which areas made your back bow, your abs tighten and your lips part with praise, he hit them consecutively without pause.

He closed his mouth around your cunt, lips keeping your folds parted. There was more than enough ruin for him to play with. Some of it swallowed, the rest of it sucked and spat back onto your clit that throbbed under his tongue’s unrelenting laps.

“Fuck, I’m-“ Your head lifted to catch his eyes already looking back.

You let out a prolonged whine, falling down to the bed again. One hand crept up to your breast, twisting your nipple while the other pushed his head deeper into your pussy. His moan reverberated through you, tongue prodding at your hole in anticipation.

There was no way to hide the noise that ripped its way out of you the second time around. Your head gnashed against the duvet, throat burning as you released a wave of cum into his mouth. Lewis held your thighs that threatened to clamp shut, widening them to keep you bared to him.

“You taste so good,” He slurped lewdly. “Can I have some more?”

Though you wanted to tell him to take as much as he wanted, all you could do was moan and nod. Lewis dove back in to eat you out like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to this plane of existence, your eyes fluttering to the ceiling dimly lit by the city lights below.

He let a hand join in on this occasion. His fingers sank into your hole to their knuckles and dragged their way back out, a glistening thread connecting you two. You watched his tongue curl around the tie before he brought the digits down over your clit with a sharp tap. Electricity shot through you, your mouth opening to let out a puff of air.

“Again, harder.” You panted.

A devilish smile crossed his lips while he did what was asked. A wet smack filled your ears as he spanked your pussy. You jostled, clenched and groaned, writhing beneath him with your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“Again.” You slurred.

Lewis fulfilled your wish, giving it one firm slap that left you levitating. All you saw was white. Your fingers bunched up the sheets on either side of your hips as you sucked in short breaths. And when he put his mouth over where his hand had just been, applying the slightest pressure, you gave him what he wanted too.

You found inhuman strength to retreat your legs from his grip, tucking them until you sat up on your knees. He stood up as you kissed him wildly. Your palms grazed along his beard that was soaked in you before sliding down to gather his shirt.

It joined your heap of clothing on the floor while you worked at his pants, lips trailing down his tattooed torso. Lewis stepped out of his final layers to join you in full undress. What a marvelous being he was, every inch carved to perfection. Especially the ones you took into your hand greedily.

He hissed as you slowly tugged on his cock with fingers that couldn’t even meet around its thickness. Your tongue laid flat over your bottom lip before you brought it to meet his tip, tapping it onto the wet, warm muscle.

The sound he made was just as alluring as he was. You wanted to draw out more of them. So you took him into your mouth and began to move back and forth, working your way down his length each time.

“Just like that, angel.” He groaned.

Lewis threaded his fingers through your hair, neck baring as his head dropped back with a drawn out moan. The sight and tone of him added to flood he left between your thighs. You dared to go further, jaw slackening to take his cock to the point that made you gag.

He retreated slightly, but you reeled him in. You wanted him to feel the softness of the back of your throat, to get lost in it. Air escaped through your nose while you kept him there, bobbing and choking until you reached your limit.

You reared back with a burning inhale, watering eyes locked on his. He ducked his head to kiss you gently, tongues colliding and combining the tastes of you both. Your arms circled his neck, fingers playing with his braids as you brought his body down on top of your own.

In a swift move, you had him on his back. Lewis moaned against your lips at the sensation of you sliding your wet pussy over his cock. You couldn’t help but do the same. It felt so much better without obstruction - fire to your flame, hard to your soft.

“I need to feel you before I go mad.” His heavy gaze peered up at you.

You were on the same page, had been since you ruined your panties on the sofa. Your hips rose and you took hold of him, lining his cock up with your entrance. It was a huge ask of your walls to let him in without protest, but all the work he’d done earlier made it possible.

Still, you gasped against the burn as you expanded to fit around his girth. You dropped one thigh and moved steadily, going past the head to about halfway down. Lewis held onto your waist to help you ease onto his length that slowly disappeared the more you circled your hips.

When you were ready, you released the tension in your other thigh and took him whole. Curses fell past your lips as you bucked your hips that now rested flush against his. You raised them up a bit, your pussy gripping his cock hungrily.

“Fuck, you fill me up so-“ Your words and train of thought became tangled.

He was tucked so deep, stretching your little cunt out so much. It was intoxicating, possessing. You found yourself going further up each time you bounced until he was nearly slipping out. Lewis was a moaning mess under you, eyes screwed shut as the sound of your wetness spilling onto him filled the room.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders, pace speeding up. Each time he bottomed out, your pussy swallowing him whole, you cried out. Then he joined in, thrusting up into you as you came down and you lost it.

All you could do was announce to anyone who dare listened I’m cumming, I - please, keep fucking me like that. Your body quivered and you rocked into him, determined to see just how much you had left.

Lewis fought through your clenching walls, grunting as he pinned you to his chest with his arms circling your lower back. Your lips dragged against any bit of skin they could find, teeth grazing to spell out the things you were too fucked out to say.

When he strokes slowed, you took in a shuddering breath. He rolled until you were on your back and pulled out. You whimpered at his absence, but found solace in the kisses he placed from your nipples to your navel.

“You doing okay?” He massaged your thighs.

“Yeah,” You smiled down at him. “Get back in here.”

Lewis chuckled softly, planting a kiss on your hip before he turned you onto your side. Your back pressed to his chest as he spooned you and tilted your head to allow his tongue to twist with your own. The flesh on your leg stood to attention in wake of his touch. You raised it so that he could tuck himself into where you both wanted him to be again.

What a relief it was. The mild ache you felt eased with his languid thrusts, each ending in a satisfied hum. Your head fell to his arm that cradled it. All the energy you had left was harvesting again where he touched you, his fingers finding that same pace they kept at the start of everything.

“Look at us,” Lewis sucked your neck. “How well we fit together.”

Your gaze tilted downward, but it was difficult to see from that angle. He shook his head, teeth pulling on your earlobe as he whispered to focus your eyes ahead. There was a mirror facing the bed that you hadn’t noticed.

Though the lighting was dim, you saw the entirety of what he meant. Your swollen, heaving chest that he kneaded and his cock sliding into your cunt deeply, coming out coated in your hot ether. It was the most prurient sight you’d ever seen - both lips parted, his gaze wandering between them and your own - and all too much to bear.

Instead of your end slamming into you with the force of a freight train, it came calmly yet no less powerfully. Like a breeze that shifted leaves, you were swept up and carried. Gravity defied until you swayed back down to earth, to his arms.

Your eyelids peeled open just as his screwed shut. Lewis pulled out and emptied his cum onto his stomach with a chord that would play in your mind for eternity. Your heart raced in the aftermath, galloping erratically to find its rhythm again. Hard to do when he took your mouth in his with a kiss that still managed to make your raw core throb.

You found your place again in his arms after a detour to freshen up. His hand ran soothingly down your spine as you cuddled into his chest. The lights had disappeared, sun beginning to rise over the city. Osaka’s skyline was something of a contradiction - steel and clouds, mountains in the distance.

Brutal and beautiful.

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine

[horangare]

a little long distance lovin’

pairing : bf!jeonghan x reader

content : smut (mdni or else)

in which : your boyfriend being so far away on tour has you missing and craving him in more ways than one

warnings : established relationship, fem!bodied reader, phone sex, pet names (angel, baby, hannie), teasing (dirty talk), a pinch of orgasm denial

wc : 1.1K words

Your life felt dull whenever Jeonghan was away on tour. You wanted nothing more than for him to just come home, so you could hold him in your arms and run your hands through his hair while he told you all about the places he got to see and show you the pictures he took just to show you.

And sometimes you wanted him to come home to help relieve the ache between your thighs that you couldn’t handle with your own fingers. To hold you down and whisper into your ear while he talked you through your orgasm just the way you liked.

Those were your thoughts now as you pushed your pajama shorts down your legs and reached one of your hands into your underwear, letting out a shaky breath when you felt how wet you already were at the thought of your boyfriend.

In times like this, you always regretted not investing in a vibrator. Even when you tried to replicate the way Jeonghan would finger you, it just wasn’t enough to get you there. You needed him there with you.

That’s when you got an idea.

With your free hand, you reached around on your bedside table until you found your phone, bringing the device to your face as you found Jeonghan’s contact and pressed the call button and raised the phone to your ear.

Jeonghan picked up on the third ring.

“Hey, angel,” He mumbled, his voice heavy with sleep. Suddenly despite your need, you felt bad for disturbing him so late in the night. “Why are you still awake?”

“Just wanted to talk to you. How was Osaka?” You mumbled, the slight rasp in his voice reminding you just what you had called him for. You circled your clit slowly, the way Jeonghan would when he wanted to tease you, and you had to bite your lip to keep quiet.

“It was good. I wish you were there with me.” He said. A second later, he sighed and added “I miss you, angel.”

You felt your heart beat a little faster. “I miss you too, Hannie. So much.” You smiled. The guilt was really getting to you now with the way your boyfriend truly seemed to have nothing but the sweetest things in mind as opposed to you, who called him with the sole purpose of trying to get off to his voice. You sighed, the sound coming out as a broken moan when you accidentally applied a bit too much pressure to your clit with your fingers.

You were silent. Jeonghan was silent. Fuck, now you really wished you had a vibrator, it would’ve been less trouble.

“[Y/n], why did you really call me?” Jeonghan finally said. You hesitated despite already having been caught, unsure of how he would react.

“I can’t do it without you, Jeonghan. I really do miss you, but I also need you so bad.”

Jeonghan chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine. “Cant do it without me, huh? My angel can’t make herself cum on her own?”

“No, Hannie. Need your cock, your fingers, your mouth, anything.” You heard Jeonghan curse under his breath on the other end of the line, and you wondered if you were having the same effect on him.

“You have no idea what you do to me, baby.” He said quietly. “We have to make this quick. I don’t know when the others will be coming back.”

You nodded despite the fact that he couldn’t see you, eager to finally get release with Jeonghan being away from you—physically, at least.

“Are you doing it my way or yours?” He asked, pushing down his sweatpants just enough so that his cock could spring free. He spat into his palm, hissing as he started to stroke himself.

“Yours.” You replied, circling your enterancd with one of your fingers. “I like the way you do it better.”

“Hm, Good. Start with just one finger for right now, okay? Ease yourself into it.” He instructed. Eagerly, you obeyed, sinking your middle finger into your dripping cunt, a sigh of content slipping out of your lips. “Feels good, baby?”

“Mhm, yeah.” You said, slowly pulling your finger out and then sliding it back inside of you, your moaning growing louder whenever you reached your g-spot. “C-can I use another finger?”

“Hmm…not yet.” Really, even now, Jeonghan just had to be a tease. He stifled a laugh when you whined into the phone and mumbled “please, please” over and over again. “Just be patient for me, angel. You do want to cum, don’t you?”

“Yes, I need to. I-I’ll be patient, I’m sorry.”

“Good answer.” You hated the fact that you could hear the smirk in his voice, but continued on with your ministrations, finally having built up a comfortable rhythm even if you were only using one finger. “Go ahead, use another finger.”

You moaned with delight as you pushed your ring finger inside of you as you moved them quicker inside of you, your breathing growing more and more uneven and your thighs began to tremble. “Hannie, I’m—”

“Close already, angel?” He asked you.

“Yes, s-so close. Really close.”

Jeonghan groaned, speeding up the speed of his own hand, rubbing his thumb over his slit. “F-Fuck,” He moaned. “Don’t cum yet, wait for me.”

You whimpered, but seeing as you didn’t have a choice with him you did as he said while you sped up the circular motions on your clit. “Please, now?” You asked breathlessly.

“Mmm, yeah, go ahead and cum, angel. Nice and loud for me, okay?”

You finally came, your hips bucking up into your hand as you screamed Jeonghan’s name as if it was the only word you could say. On the other end of the line, Jeonghan came at the same time you did, his release shooting out all over his hand, stomach, and a little bit on his sweatpants while he let out a drawn-out whine of your name. You both listened to the sound of each others breathing go from erratic to stable before speaking again.

“Guess you were wrong, hm? You can cum without me.”

You gave him an exasperated laugh, standing up with shaky legs to toss your shorts and ruined underwear into your laundry basket and slipped into the bathroom to wash off your hand. “Only because of you, Hannie. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, angel. And once I get home, I promise we won’t spend even a single second apart.”

You smiled, your body feeling warm with sentimentality. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

#seventeen smut #svt smut #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan #svt jeonghan #jeonghan #jeonghan x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen #svt x reader #svt

[moxfirefly]

Greetings and salutations. I bring you a little nugget of something that’s been on my noggin for a while. I haven’t had the pleasure to experiment too much with AU’s so here I bring you two segments of just that.

Rated Mature.

So please enjoy and let me know if maybe y’all want more?

It was that scar.

You hadn’t been necessarily subtle about it. You’d stared, wondered what could’ve gone wrong to have a man nearly lose an eye.

You liked making up stories of strangers, what their backstory and futures could be just on looks alone.

But when blue eyes had met your own, looked up from the local news paper, you felt as if he’d heard your mental fictions.

He was pretty.

Blue eyes, strong features and built.

Because mutants tended to be built, imposing, rough, dangerous.

But there was a softness to Blue Eyes here.

Somewhere between restarting your brain and the soft rattling of him pushing his mug towards your outstretched hand, you had finally poured a re-fill of a lemony scented tea he had ordered twenty minutes ago.

The cafe was a passion project, something you’d done on impulse when you hopped on a plane to run away from New York and its hollowness and move to Osaka.

To run away from the bad memories…

A bad guy.

“Are you alright?” Oh? He spoke English.

You nodded, dipped the kettle and refilled his mug. “Sorry, mornings aren’t really my thing.” You chuckled to lighten the mood, watched the corner of his mouth lift as he reached for the mug.

“Working in a cafe must’ve been a tough option.” His lips pressed to the ceramic, a large hand holding it as he softly blew.

The peak of a finger missing an inch to it making you squint.

Just how many scars could one individual have?

But he had looked at you again, piercing blue eyes gaging your thoughts, somehow digging into what your story was. Maybe he had made up his own.

You should’ve known, should’ve seen the tattoos peaking from the cuff of his dress shirt, the roughness to his demeanor.

You should’ve sensed the danger.

________

You ran from danger back in New York only to somehow find yourself enchanted by something far worse.

Because Leonardo (he had introduced himself at long last) screamed dangerous.

But he kept coming back to the cafe, each day he stayed just a little bit longer, his small talk became more of a lighthearted interrogation.

And those damn eyes of his never seemed to not follow you around the counter as you prepared and brewed for the patrons of the morning. His eyes were watchful, something kind of protective to them. Whenever the bell for the door ran he’d always cast a careful backwards glance.

Anticipating something?

He seemed to travel on the edge of a knife, waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop.

And you wanted to ignore the obvious, the setting, the place, the fresh cuts and bruises on his hands. You wanted the fantasy to remain just that.

Because deep down you knew that he ran in that lifestyle.

Yakuza.

It rang like an alarm in your brain, warning sirens to not get involved, to not find yourself in the fire pit.

One afternoon as he remained during your closing, he had stood up and adjusted the cuff of his suit.

“Do you wanna have dinner with me tonight?”

It was a simple question, a razors edge to it, the anticipation mixing with water running from the sink. You had stopped, hand sopping wet from washing mugs and glasses.

You stared at him, watching those calculating eyes of his gage your reaction.

That little voice told you to say no, desperately to just let this be a fleeting thing. Let Leonardo be a fantasy, don’t jump into that dark ocean and let the current sweep you away.

“Yes…I’d like that.”

‘These violent delights…’

It felt more like a light version of Wack-a-Mole. Gently but intentionally shoving all these screaming adolescents and young adults away from the object of their desire.

You waved and smiled, signed what you could when several high glossy portraits of yourself were shoved into your eyesight. A massive arm wrapped around your shoulders and tugged you into hard scales and you caught the warning glare Raph had shot to a handsy guy.

‘Just get her to the hotel entrance’ That was all Raph was thinking, if he could haul ass with you through this sea of screaming fans in the next sixty seconds he’d pat himself on the shell.

So he held you closer, pushed through and as gently and professionally as he could pushed through the doable doors.

Hotel security could keep everyone at bay, your poor assistance somehow alive and inside as well moved quickly to the front desk to check you in.

“Never get tired of that shit?” he asked you with a smirk, making sure to keep your body covered by his much larger form.

“Just part of the job description, some of them can be endearing.” You adjusted your sunglasses, shooting a thanks to your assistant when they jogged back towards you with a room card.

“Y/N you have an interview tomorrow at 9am so there’s a 7am wake up call for hair and makeup to get up to your room. After that it’s the photo shoot at noon and finally the concert at MSG, I’ll be here early to get everything started.” They were an efficient assistant sometimes doubling more like a parent.

“She got time to sleep somewhere in there peepsqueak?” Raph was already escorting you towards the elevator. Your assistant rolled their eyes.

“Be nice Raphie, they keep the order, I just do the fun stuff.” You waved back as you climbed into the elevator with Raph.

In the quiet steel and glass you took a minute to sigh and stretch. While it was fun it could be pretty exhausting running around from show to show. You felt your phone vibrate, the work one, and allowed yourself the luxury of not dealing with it. Closing your eyes briefly you centered yourself.

“Ya good?” Raph’s voice, the soft one he only reserved for you, mixed with the ping of each floor.

“A little stiff, but I’m alright. What about you?” You watched Raph huff a little laugh, incredulous to assume that this was enough to even remotely tire him out. When the doors open he stepped out first to make sure the halls were empty before alerting you to follow suit.

“You know you can chill out now, clock out technically.” You opened the door to your latest hotel suit and watched Raph go in and do his usual perimeter walk.

One time some obsessed fan had hidden in the suit you had stayed in, and while it hadn’t been a violent situation it had spooked you and angered Raph enough to always check the room before letting you settle in.

“Looks clear, although C- for not having those chocolates on the bed.” Man he kinda wanted something sweet.

He smiled at your laugh watching you plop on the chase lounge near the window.

He could feel his own phone, not the work one, vibrate in the pocket of his jeans.

“Do you want to stay?” Came your voice, light and floaty like an inviting drink.

Raph knew this wasn’t exactly right, but it hadn’t been right the last fourteen hotels ago.

You turned to study him, a flirtatious smile spreading across your beautiful lips.

Those lips had been around his dick last night on the limo ride to some after party.

Something in the jittery electric feel of his legs, urging him to move, to put an end to this not so professional relationship.

“Raphie?” You asked, jacket coming off, heels being kicked off, skin inviting him.

He ran the back of his palm across his mouth, caught the faint scent of you from just this morning (where he had fingered you in the shower of the last hotel).

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

He swallowed the nerves, swallowed it and let it simmer in the pit of his stomach.

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt leonardo x reader #tmnt raphael x reader #leonardo x reader #raphael x reader #tmnt au #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #Raphael #Leonardo

[argumentl]

2024/01/20 aknot only Gorilla Hall Osaka - Report

I only applied for this date on this tour, so I feel super lucky to have gotten it, especially for such an iconic anniversary!

This was my first time at Gorilla Hall, but the entrance process was super organized and easy. I had quite a high ticket number, so was fairly far back when I first got inside, but I could see the stage, so wasn't too bothered. HOWEVER, there are no rails in Gorilla Hall other than the front rail! So as soon as the lights went down for the show to start, there was a big rush forward, and I pretty much found myself nicely mid crowd, only a few meters from the front, shimote of course! Happy!!

From the start there was so much fan service! Kaoru and Die standind together, Die and Toshiya standing together, Kaoru and Kyo standing together, everyone gathering around Shinya....even in the first few songs!

Die and Toshiya in particular looked...close. At one point Die stood behind Toshiya and rested his chin on Toshiya's shoulder, spoke in his ear, and after that even got down on his knees and played his guitar while looking up at Toshiya! 

Yes, I did see the other members a bit this time, haha. There was a spotlight behind Kaoru for quite some time, which would shine directly into my eyes and blind me whenever he stepped out of its beam, so I was forced at times to look elsewhere to save my eyesight 😂

Kyo was still bald, all white make up with black eyes. He looked really spooky. 

Toshiya was in his sparkly dress to start, and for the encore he wore a leopard print shirt, with the tiniest tight shorts ever. I only saw his shorts at the end when he stood up high on the truss, and I initialy thought he had lost his trousers somehow, haha (his shorts really just looked as small as underwear), but then i realised this was his actual outfit 😂 

Kaoru was in his black jacket/white shirt/waistcoat combo, looking like a total aristocrat. Blonde hair, combed back 😍 And for the encore he wore a White Zombie band tshirt! 

Kaoru was using his pink ganesa for Yurameki at the start, but changed to a few other guitars during the rest of the show. He also took off his black jacket few songs in. 

The set list was amazing, as follows:

mode of adam

yurameki

Schwein no isu

Zomboid

Eddie

Mouai ni shosu

Myaku

304 goushitsu

Tsumi to batsu

Obscure

Byou shin

Karma

Unknown...Despair...a Lost

zan

ΕΝ.

Akuro no oka

Followers

Filth

Child Prey

So many of these songs were songs that I was listening to when I first became a fan of Dir over 20yrs ago, so it was actually surreal hearing them all live together like this. Especially having just watched the newly released footage from 1999, hearing Schwein, Tsumi to batsu, Byou shin, Karma together...omg, it was overwhelming! 

And Akuro no oka! The audience was quiet for the whole song, and gave a respectful applause when it finished. It was really emotional. 

My fave part of the encore was actual during Filth! Something came over Kaoru, its almost like he became the song...he was roaming the front rows of the crowd with his eyes, but his facial expressions just exuded the MOST erotic filth! Its like he was thinking about dirty, dirty things, and it showed on his face! If I had been in the front few rows, I would be dead for sure! 

At one point I saw him pointing straight in my direction, with his head tilted and eyes half closed, but that wasn't during Filth, haha. 

I didn't catch anything this time, but I did get watered on by Kaoru, Toshiya, and Die, so Im happy! Kaoru's bottle flew straight over my head, and when I was on my way out I saw a big puddle of (real) blood on the floor where it had landed, so Im assuming there was either a struggle, or someone had slipped on the water that splashed out of it. But there was a venue staff member standing there to stop people walking through it on the way out. 

Kyo, Shinya, and Toshiya left the stage, and then Kaoru smiled and pointed at Die before leaving. The Die came over and tapped the mic, and said, 'Can I say something?' 

He gave a really emotional speech about how they have come this far due to the support they have from fans and people around them, and he acknowledged that Dir en grey will have to end one day, due to the members being only human. But until that time, they will continue to cherish playing lives and being with fans. Then he said like, 'so Im not gonna let you die before us, promise me' 

You heard it everyone, you gotta look after yourself, and keep living for Dir, and they will do the same for you!

#dir en grey #psychonnect #report #osaka

[sickficideas]

start over || skk injury/sickfic

ao3! 5.9k - please refer to the tags and notes in the link for content + warnings!

Dazai is fairly certain he has a few broken ribs, but that’s not an unfamiliar feeling.

He resists the urge to run his hand over that spot on his chest. It’s sore and painful even completely untouched. He’s already gotten used to taking shallow breaths, anything deeper than that makes him cough, makes him only feel worse.

But he won’t see a doctor. He never does.

“I’ll take care of the report. You should go home,” Kunikida tells him. Dazai’s not used to the concern in his voice. They’ve been out all night and day on this case, which isn’t too unusual for them, but Dazai’s exhaustion has hit him much harder this time. It’s visible enough that Kunikida is concerned, but Dazai doesn’t think he has any idea about the condition of his ribs. “Might not be a bad idea to have Yosano check you over before you go, though.”

“She’s in Osaka, isn’t she?” Dazai asks, vaguely remembering the discussion from the night before. He yawns, the motion from his chest proving to be rather painful, but he hides it well from his partner, he thinks.

“She’ll be back tomorrow night,” Ranpo tells the two of them, always secretly listening. He looks like he’s actually busy with something at the moment, typing away on a computer.

“I’ll take you to a doctor, then,” Kunikida insists, setting his stack of reports down on the desk and rummaging through his bag for his keys.

“Nah, that’s alright. I think I’ll just go home, I feel fine,” Dazai insists, regardless of his true situation. Kunikida saw him get hit. He was thrown against a staircase during an altercation against someone who didn’t have a gift, and while Dazai can usually hold his own in a fight, there’s not much he can do against someone highly skilled in physical combat and nothing else.

“Are you sure? You got thrown pretty hard,” Kunikida says with a disapproving frown, setting his bag down.

“Yeah, yeah. It’ll probably just bruise,” Dazai says. He didn’t bring anything with him to work today other than a messenger bag, so he picks that up, and leaves his coat hanging over his chair. It’s far too hot for that today.

“If you’re sure. I’ll take you home, at least,” Kunikida insists, but Dazai waves him off before he can continue his search for his keys.

“I’ve got errands to run. I’ll do ‘em on my way home,” Dazai says. He knows Kunikida will stay here even though he’s scheduled to go home as well. He would rather get his work done than put it off.

Kunikida sighs and waves a hand as Dazai heads for the exit.

…

“He has a few broken ribs,” Ranpo says.

Kunikida lifts his head, eyes darting in Ranpo’s direction. It’s been a few minutes since Dazai left. Ranpo doesn’t elaborate, and he’s not quite sure how Ranpo could gather that just from looking at him.

“Are you sure?” Kunikida asks.

Ranpo lifts a brow. “Am I sure?”

“How do you know?” he asks.

“The way he was breathing. It’s causing him pain,” Ranpo explains as if it was obvious. “And he was hunched over by a few degrees. It’s more painful if he stands with good posture, but also when he sits down. He didn’t put his coat back on either, probably not worth it with the pain he’s in. It’s definitely his ribs.”

“Why the hell would he tell me he’s fine?” Kunikida grumbles with a heavy sigh. He can feel a headache coming on. Dazai is so incredibly -

“Well, I’m not a relationship counselor, I’m a detective. So, can’t help you there,” Ranpo shrugs.

Kunikida resists the urge to throw something at him.

…

Chuuya’s fancy penthouse it is, Dazai decides as he boards the subway.

His chest is starting to hurt a bit more. Going from standing up to sitting is slightly more painful, so he decides he’ll stand on the train instead and hold onto something at waist level to avoid unnecessary pain. He thinks he should text Chuuya that he’s heading over there, but he ends up in his own head, distracted by miscellaneous thoughts and advertisements in his view.

He almost misses the stop.

He feels his phone buzzing in his pocket, but he knows it’s Kunikida, and he doesn’t feel like answering. He’s sure Ranpo knows, he’s sure he’s told Kunikida, and answering the phone would certainly mean being harped on for not looking after his health.

Dazai understands his concern, he really does, but he’s fine. As long as he can still breathe, he would rather not see a doctor if he doesn’t have to.

The evening’s rush hour has started to calm down, thankfully. Dazai’s not sure he could handle being stuffed in a train car with that many people, especially now, but he gets out of the station unscathed and only has to endure a few minutes of walking to Chuuya’s penthouse. There’s a moment where he almost turns back around, but he’s already paid the train fare. Might as well finish what he started.

He digs through his bag for the key card he has to get to Chuuya’s floor, and he only manages to find it just when he makes it to the building. The elevator opens for him, and he ascends a few floors up to make it to Chuuya’s place. He takes in a few breaths, disappointed to find it hasn’t gotten any easier to breathe. Thankfully, Chuuya’s not as observant as his coworkers.

The elevator opens right to Chuuya’s living room after he's prompted once more to scan the key card. Normally, anyone else would have to be let in by him, but Dazai has stolen this extra key card of his to make it easier for him to get it. He doesn’t care for the extra steps.

He’s grinning when the elevator door opens to Chuuya almost half-dressed and sitting on his couch with a glass of wine, wide-eyed and not very happy to see company.

“Did you steal my fuckin’ key card again, Mackerel?” Chuuya grumbles, standing up from his spot on the couch to take his remote and pause the TV. He’s watching some brainless reality TV like he usually does, that’s no surprise, but Dazai’s at the point where he wouldn’t even mind watching it with him.

“You should wear that more often,” Dazai hums as he hangs his bag on Chuuya’s silly hat rack, something he knows Chuuya hates, but has given up reprimanding Dazai for. He sees Chuuya’s face redden a little at that comment. It’s an almost-too-small tank top he’s wearing with a baggy pair of sweatpants, but he’s got some nice-looking arms. He likes seeing them.

“You always scare the crap out of me when you show up like this,” Chuuya groans, obviously trying to change the subject. “I told you to text me when you’re coming.”

“Wanted to surprise you,” Dazai jokes, but he’s lost the energy to put any sort of teasing tone into his voice. He trudges over to the couch to sit down, slower than he normally would and carefully as he sinks down, trying to avoid making any grunts to show he’s still in pain.

Chuuya, though, isn’t as stupid as Dazai thinks he is. “You okay?”

Dazai’s still staring at his arms. “Huh? Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Stop looking at me like I have a pair of tits. You’re gross,” Chuuya grumbles, marching over to the kitchen. Dazai pouts, staring at the still-paused television, with no will or energy to get up to unpause it himself.

“Slug, can you unpause it?” Dazai asks, turning his head to watch Chuuya, who has taken his phone from the kitchen counter and sat at the bar, typing away.

“Do it yourself,” Chuuya huffs. “You want somethin' to eat?”

“‘M okay,” Dazai says. He should probably eat, but he’s never really hungry.

“I’m ordering food anyway. You like Chinese food, right?” Chuuya asks.

“Uh-huh,” Dazai nods, turning his head back to stare at the television, which has already moved to the idle screen. Dazai thinks he was watching a singing competition show, which isn’t nearly as bad as his usual choices.

Dazai sinks back into the couch and manages to snake one of the throw blankets over himself, feeling a little cold. He hears Chuuya muttering in the kitchen, always weirdly polite when he’s on the phone, ordering much more than the two of them could finish together.

He breathes in and breathes out a few times, realizing that not only is it not getting better, it almost feels worse. He’s having to take more shallow breaths. Maybe it would be a good idea to at least let Chuuya know, just in case Dazai suddenly can’t breathe anymore, but he’s certain Chuuya won’t handle news of broken ribs very well.

Chuuya returns with a shirt and pajama pants that Dazai left here ages ago, because obviously nothing Chuuya owns will fit Dazai’s tall frame. He lays the clothes over the side of the couch and clicks his tongue when Dazai’s eyes drift over to him.

“You look exhausted,” Chuuya murmurs.

“‘M fine. How long till the food gets here? I’m hungry,” Dazai huffs.

“Now you’re hungry, huh? Geez," Chuuya mutters to himself. "Change into these before you get on my bed.”

Dazai is well aware that he's not allowed to wear outside clothes in Chuuya’s bed and resists the urge to make a comment about the more serious topic of Chuuya's undiagnosed OCD in favor of getting closer to time in a bed. Chuuya's mattress is fantastic. Money can't buy happiness, but it can buy mattresses that give him the most rested sleep of his life. Maybe he can lay down for a little before the food gets here. He just needs to relax, he’s fine.

Chuuya starts to wander off again.

“Slug,” Dazai whines. “What are you doing now?”

“I needa do laundry. You wanna help, or keep up your freeloader lifestyle?” Chuuya calls as he walks off. Dazai doesn’t have the energy to shout back at him. Dazai realizes he didn’t make any solid plans at all to hang out with Chuuya, and that the latter has things he needs to do too, but he wishes he would use his absorbent amounts of money to hire someone to do his laundry for him.

Dazai, instead, starts to change into the clothes Chuuya brought out for him. The sweat pants are easy to slide on as he’s sitting down. It doesn’t hurt his chest too much at all. Taking off his collared shirt and vest isn’t too difficult either, he doesn’t have to pull anything over his head with the buttons, but he realizes he’ll have to with the shirt.

He puts that off, realizing he needs to change out his bandages, too. What a pain in the ass.

“Slug,” Dazai murmurs as he approaches Chuuya’s laundry room. He’s wearing a cardigan all of a sudden. Chuuya always puts something on as soon as it comes out of the dryer, he likes how warm it is. It’s cute. “Do you have bandages I can use anywhere?”

Chuuya finishes folding up a shirt before he looks at Dazai peering in the doorway, his eyes drifting down to his bandages. Dazai suddenly feels nauseous. He knows Chuuya has seen his skin without the bandages, he knows Chuuya doesn’t care, but he hates it. He hates it so much it makes him feel sick.

“Dazai, you know that I don’t -”

Chuuya stops when his eyes meet Dazai’s expression, probably on track to say something about how he doesn’t care about what’s underneath his bandages, but Dazai doesn’t want to have that conversation right now. He just wants to change the bandages so he’s clean enough to lay in Chuuya’s bed.

“There’s some left in the bathroom next to my bedroom. Second highest shelf on the right,” Chuuya says quietly, turning his attention back to folding his remaining articles of clothing.

Dazai wanders over to Chuuya’s bedroom with the shirt he’s supposed to put on folded over his arm, and he locks the door behind him, even with the knowledge that Chuuya can open it whenever he wants.

He starts to peel off the bandages, and he winces at the side of the deep purple bruise blooming over his ribs. That doesn’t look good at all. He doesn’t usually bruise like that. He runs his fingers over the spot, shivering at how his skin feels under the touch of his hand. He’s not sure any of that is real. He thinks he might have a fever. He’s overly sensitive to touch when he’s running a temperature, even at his own hands. But whether or not the fever is from his possible damaged ribs or just exhaustion, he won’t know until later, probably.

He lazily washes his face and runs a damp washcloth over his upper body, anywhere that’s reachable and doesn’t hurt to get to, before he dries off with a dry towel. He should probably shower, but he definitely can’t do that without it hurting right now. He does, however, hold that wet washcloth up to his face. It feels so good. He wonders if ducking his face into a sink filled with water would feel better than this. Maybe he’d drown while he’s at it, too.

But Chuuya’s sink is too low. He’d have to bend over a ton and that would hurt too much. He’s not in the business for a painful suicide.

He starts to wrap his arms back up, deciding to only wrap his neck and arms, and letting the t-shirt do the rest of the covering. He can’t lift up enough to get high on his chest, and it’s too much twisting around his body. He stares down the t-shirt that he’s set on the counter with a deep sigh. He just needs to rip it off like a bandaid. Pull it over his head. It can’t hurt too bad if he’s fast.

Only, it does. It hurts so much that he can’t even pull it over his head. He lowers his arms back down and whines, throwing his head back against the door. It’s so bad that it’s making him nauseous, although he’s not sure if he was feeling sick before that. His chest rattles when he takes in a breath, and he spits phlegm into the sink.

Bad sign.

"What's takin' so long?" Chuuya puffs from outside the door. Dazai almost jumps. He didn’t think he was in here for all that long, but apparently long enough. Dammit, if he opens the door and asks for help, Chuuya will see the bruise on his chest. But it’ll hurt too much to cover it, and then he’ll take even longer.

"Chuuya needs to help me put this on," he murmurs as he unlocks the door, the shirt still pulled up to the sleeves.

"What's wrong, you sore? I have ones that button from the front, if that's easier," Chuuya says, walking off to the closet before he even sees Dazai. “You guys do some crazy stuff today?”

“I got thrown against the stairs,” Dazai groans, leaning against the door frame from the inside, Chuuya’s footsteps approaching again. His arm comes in through the crack of the door with a shirt that buttons from the front, thank god, and his arm disappears once Dazai takes the shirt. He narrowly avoided a confrontation.

“Ow. You get hurt bad?” Chuuya asks, staying outside the door as Dazai shuts it again.

“No, just…sore, like you said,” Dazai manages with a little pained groan as he slips his arms through the sleeves, buttoning the front of the shirt.

“Good. That shit can really suck,” Chuuya huffs. “Actually, I saw Akutagawa curb-stomp a guy on a staircase the other day. Seriously brutal.”

Good to know Akutagawa hasn’t lost any of his violent tendencies, but he finds himself shivering at the idea of curb-stomping someone. Strange how much things have changed. Maybe it's just because of how he feels right now.

Once Dazai finishes buttoning up the shirt, he trudges over to Chuuya’s bedroom, deciding he’ll just lie down for a while as they wait for their food, but the nausea that’s starting to settle in his stomach is making him want to pass up the idea of food.

Dazai decides to just lay down on his side. Chuuya almost wanders out of the room, but he stops and turns around once he’s realized Dazai is lying down. He frowns.

"My tummy hurts," he mumbles.

"You probably haven't eaten all damn day,” Chuuya huffs. Dazai can’t deny that. He’s pretty sure he didn’t eat anything more than a snack yesterday, either, but he won’t admit it to Chuuya. He just whines to himself. “But I’ll get you some Pepto or something if it’ll help you feel better.”

Dazai isn’t sure that will do much for him, but Chuuya is already off to the kitchen before Dazai has anything to say about it. He forces himself to sit up, up and off Chuuya’s too-comfy mattress before he lays a hand on his chest. A deep breath almost has him in tears, he’s wincing so hard that the moment makes it hurt more. It feels like a knife is stuck between his ribs and he thinks if he takes a breath like that again, he’ll throw up. Not a good sign, even worse with how swimmy his head feels once it’s off the mattress.

Chuuya returns with a little medicine cup full of Pepto Bismol and Dazai doesn’t even have the energy to give him a reassuring smile, because it’s obvious that Chuuya is concerned, no matter how much he tries to hide it. His eye twitches as he approaches him, and he reaches a hand up to his cheek. Dammit.

"Shit, Dazai," Chuuya murmurs as he pulls his hand back. "Why the hell are you so hot?"

Dazai wants to make a joke, it's such a good opportunity to, but he can't. He feels awful. He’s considering making himself throw up, but he knows that’s not even remotely related to the root of his problem.

"Tell me what happened," Chuuya growls.

"It's just a few broken ribs," Dazai says quietly, but he’s finding it to be quite painful to even speak right now. He brings his hand back up to his chest.

“I’m calling one of our doctors over,” Chuuya hisses as he sets the cup of medicine on the nightstand.

Dazai freezes at the mere suggestion of that.

“No, Chuuya. Please,” he says, his breath hitching halfway through. His brain is flooded with awful things he doesn’t want to consider. “They’ll report to Mori.”

Chuuya stops in his tracks, his shoulders dropping at the last word Dazai speaks.

Dazai knows he's being paranoid. Realistically, Mori can't get to him anymore. Chuuya would never let him, he doesn't think anyone would, but none of them know the half of what Mori did to him. He would gladly use any opportunity to treat his body like a cadaver, wouldn’t he? Even now?

Even if he wouldn’t, Dazai is so paranoid about it that he’s losing his composure, and that's the problem.

He leans over the bed and gags into his hand, fully expecting to throw up, but it’s just saliva that’s pooled in his mouth. He keeps his hand under his mouth just in case, but now the nausea is pushed to the back of his mind, his brain focused on how much his current posture is hurting his lungs.

“Shit, hey. I won’t call our doctors,” Chuuya murmurs quietly, a gentle but cautious hand landing on Dazai’s shoulder. “Well…what about that doctor at your agency? Can’t she help you?”

“She’s in Osaka,” Dazai recalls. He winces at the concern in Chuuya’s voice. “I’m…I’m fine.”

“Fucking hell, Dazai, you’re not fine,” Chuuya huffs. His voice shakes. Dazai should have known that Chuuya is just as protective as Kunikida, if not worse. He can’t kind from any of them. “I’ll just - I’ll take you to a hospital.”

“You can’t just walk into a hospital, Chuuya," Dazai laughs dryly. He shivers at the thought of going to a hospital, but it’s a far better idea than being found by Mori. It doesn’t make him gag, at least.

“I don’t fucking give a fuck,” Chuuya growls. “You know how serious broken ribs can get, especially if you already have a fucking fever. You’ve probably got an infection. Why the hell would they just let you go home?”

Dazai wants to tell him that they let him go home because he didn't tell anyone he was injured. He doesn't like bothering them if he doesn't have to, and honestly, he prefers to avoid medical treatment of any kind altogether if he can. He was just trying to see how long he could go avoiding it.

"I'm gonna call a taxi and take you downstairs," Chuuya breathes out, turning on his heel and heading back for the kitchen to find his phone.

Dazai is left with his own brain, which is incredibly dangerous. He groans from the pain he’s in, and he’s trying not to think too hard about needing to go to a hospital. Maybe they can just sedate him before they do anything. He’d much prefer that. Is that an option?

He lays down on his side and curls up into a ball, but he doesn’t feel any better, it’s getting harder to breathe and that nauseous feeling won’t go away either, and it comes back with a vengeance. He forces his head up because he knows something is going to come up out of his throat, and he does feel a tiny bit guilty about getting it on Chuuya’s bed, but he can’t avoid it.

Dazai can't breathe. He's not entirely sure what he's coughing up. Foam, phlegm, vomit, maybe some blood, maybe a little bit of everything. He's seen Akutagawa do this on several occasions, actually, but he's never experienced it himself, so he's almost certain this has something to do with his lungs. Maybe the broken shards of his ribcage have poked holes into his lungs.

Oh god, he really can't breathe.

Chuuya's talking to him, but he can't hear a word. He hears his own name, he thinks, but all he can focus on is the sharp, unbelievable pain in his chest.

…

“It sounds to me like he has a lung infection, Dazai,” Mori says to him, expectant. He was waiting for Dazai to agree, to hand his subordinate over and let Mori take care of the rest. But even at seventeen, Dazai was smart enough to know Mori’s true intentions.

“Oh yeah? You’re a doctor now?” Dazai jokes. He’s stalling, only in Mori’s office to take a book or two out of his library that Hirotsu mentioned he needed for something he was working on. Akutagawa is outside the office, waiting. He’s coughing every now and then, coughs that really don’t sound good and that Dazai is well aware of, but he won’t hand him over to Mori.

“Come now, Dazai. Don’t let your subordinates suffer on account of your stubborn nature,” Mori teases.

“I’m not letting anyone suffer, Mori. A little cough never killed anyone,” Dazai says back, mocking that same teasing tone as he pulls out the last book he needs, but when he turns around, he realizes Mori had plans of his own. Elise was busy opening the door to the office and taking Akutagawa’s arm to lead him inside.

Akutagawa looks to Dazai, unsure of what’s going on, what he’s been brought in for, and Dazai is frozen. Dazai has been trying to limit their contact as much as humanly possible, and Mori seems to have become aware of that.

“My, don’t you look awful. How long have you had this cough for?” Mori asks him as Elise drags him closer, but Akutagawa resists the closer he’s brought into Mori’s frame of view. Dazai shakes. He’s been looking for a way to have Akutagawa seen by a doctor that Mori wouldn’t know about, but it’s nearly impossible. It’s something he’s been trying to do for himself, too, and he still hasn’t figured out how to do it. How to get one step ahead of Mori.

“Don’t answer him. We’re leaving,” Dazai growls, glaring at Akutagawa so he knows he’s serious, and Akutagawa shrinks back, still dead silent. Dazai takes Elise’s arm to pull her off of Dazai, and she disappears as soon as they make contact.

“Dazai, really? That wasn’t very nice of you,” Mori huffs. “It’s cruel of you to let your subordinates suffer. You know I would never want that for you, don’t you?”

Dazai takes Akutagawa’s arm and pulls him toward the exit, ignoring Mori’s words. Akutagawa is rightfully confused, but Dazai doesn’t need him to have any more information than he already does. He closes the door behind the two of them, and Akutagawa pulls his arm up to cough into his elbow. Dazai hears his chest rattle. He’s undoubtedly got a fever, too.

“Don’t ever go to him for any of this. Understand? I don’t care what he says,” Dazai bites, audibly frustrated and maybe a little scared, but Akutaagwa can’t pick up on the second half.

“I know,” Akutagawa answers, voice hoarse, “you’ve told me already.”

“Just making sure you listened. You’re not very good at that.” Dazai huffs, leading him down the corridor and back to the elevator.

Akutagawa looks like he’s ready to retort that claim, but he starts coughing again, into his hand, this time - blood and foam coating his palm, visibly startling him, too. He needs to see a doctor, he might even need to go to a hospital, Dazai doesn’t know the extent of his infection at all, but this isn’t normal.

Akutagawa trips when they pass the threshold of the elevator, clearly his head isn’t where it’s supposed to be - he catches himself on his hands and knees and the coughing only gets worse, bright red blood splattering on the marble elevator floor. He takes in shaky and unsteady breaths in between. Dazai just spends a few seconds staring. What the hell is he supposed to do about this?

Akutagawa collapses completely after one heavy breath seems to take all of his remaining energy out of him, and Dazai only thinks about how lucky he is that this happened here, and not in front of Mori. He just stares at his shaking form as they descend the building, and Dazai needs to have a game plan of what to do once they reach the bottom.

“Dazai,” Akutagawa barely manages to breathe out, making a pathetic attempt to get off of the floor, only to crash back down into it. Dazai kneels down beside him. He can’t even carry Akutagawa. Who does he call? What does he do?

“I know. Give me a few hours to figure it out,” Dazai murmurs.

Anyone but Mori. Akutagawa can’t go through what Dazai went through.

…

When Dazai wakes up, he’s stuck in a hospital room, the sterile smell of it all only reminding him how nauseous he is.

He imagines he’s been asleep for quite a while, but he doesn’t feel well-rested at all. He’s never felt that way after a hospital visit. It’s the pain medications they pump him full of, he thinks - they’re the only reason he’s slept at all, probably.

But he can breathe a little easier. There’s a mask over his nose and mouth, probably not a good sign.

There’s a nurse in the room with him, looking surprised to see his eyes meeting hers. She says something to him but Dazai doesn’t have any idea what she’s saying. The mask she’s wearing makes it impossible to even guess. She seems to jot down his vital signs before she scurries out of the room.

He realizes what she was saying to him when Chuuya comes trailing in through the door, his hair tucked into a beanie that doesn't suit him and wearing a hoodie, a black mask and a pair of fake glasses.

If Dazai had the energy to laugh right now, he would probably do it until he couldn’t breathe anymore. Chuuya doesn’t look all that ridiculous, it’s a decent disguise in practice, but it’s hilarious all the same. Only because Dazai knows Chuuya.

A shaky hand of his reaches up to pull down the mask, and Chuuya almost pulls it back over his face once he’s at Dazai’s bedside, but the nurse gives a little nod. She says something to him before she leaves the room, but the sound is muffled.

Chuuya’s voice, though, is as clear as a bell.

“You look like shit,” Chuuya mumbles, brushing his hair back and out of his face, pulling off his own mask once the nurse is out of the room. Not the first thing Dazai wants to hear when he wakes up, but it’s Chuuya.

“You look stupid,” Dazai retorts, his voice so hoarse it almost sounds like he’s lost it completely. He wants to clear his throat, but has a feeling that won’t make him feel any better.

Chuuya grumbles something under his breath before he pulls off the beanie and pushes the glasses up on top of his head, and Dazai’s never been so glad to see that annoyingly bright colored hair before. He’s really kind of gorgeous. Maybe it’s the drugs making him think that.

"I'm sorry I left you," Chuuya murmurs, reaching over to squeeze the hand that’s free from an IV. "I know you hate places like this."

Dazai's a little unsure of what to say. Chuuya's not the type to get so candid with him, and while Dazai truly does despise being in hospitals, he doesn't remember ever telling Chuuya that directly. Then again, his memory of the past has been hazy. He doesn't even remember much of anything after losing his breath on Chuuya's bedroom. For all he knows, Chuuya could have been with him the whole time.

"I'm an adult now, you know," Dazai teases, flashing a weak smile.

Chuuya rolls his eyes. "Not what I'm talking about. But whatever."

"It's fine, slug," Dazai tells him. It’s not nearly as bad of a fear as it used to be for him. He knows that sometimes it’s unavoidable. He knows he doesn't have to worry about Mori anymore, at least not while in the care of the Armed Detective Agency.

“You scared the shit out of me. Seriously,” Chuuya mumbles. “You’re staying with me for a while once you’re discharged.”

“I have to go back to work,” Dazai whispers. Sure, it’s not the working part he’s concerned with, but he really should pop in every now and then at the very least, so that they know he’s alive. Before Kunikida decides to end his life prematurely.

“Since when you do give a shit about that?" Chuuya groans, squeezing his hand a little tighter. "They're the reason you're in this mess in the first place, aren’t they?”

Dazai’s stomach drops at the notion, because that’s really not the truth. He simply lied to them, just like he lied to Chuuya. It’s what he always does. It has nothing to do with any of them.

They probably would've taken good care of him, too.

“Mm…I think you've got it all wrong, little Slug,” Dazai says, feeling himself start to doze off again. He's exhausted and doesn't particularly feel like explaining any of that to him, even though he's sure Chuuya would at least consider it.

“Don't call me little, you ass,” Chuuya grumbles, squeezing his hand a little tighter, “I'm taking you back to my apartment once you're discharged. End of story.”

Dazai's eyelids start to feel heavy, and he doesn't fight Chuuya's demand. He can always sneak out if he needs to.

But maybe he'll be okay with Chuuya looking after him, for a while.

…

A week later, Dazai thinks he's well enough to slip out of Chuuya's apartment early one morning, to pop into the Agency.

“Healing well from your broken ribs, Dazai?” Ranpo says as he happens to wander past him just as soon as Dazai enters the building.

“Can't keep any secrets from you, can I, Ranpo?” Dazai says, only sounding a little nervous because he can feel Kunikida glaring at him all the way from his desk. It seems the two of them are the only ones here so far, like usual. At least Atsushi isn't here to witness Dazai's inevitable death at Kunikida's hands.

“You know I don't normally air out everything you try to hide, but Kunikida already wants to kill you,” Ranpo says casually on his way back to his desk. “Figured it doesn't matter what I say.”

“Morning, Kunikida,” Dazai says as cheerfully as he can, but Kunikida has already hurled a pretty heavy report collection his way, one that Dazai's head just narrowly misses. He brings his heads up to his face in surrender.

“Don't morning me, Dazai. Where the hell have you been? Obviously you were injured, and I haven’t heard from you in over a week -”

“Aww, Kunikida, were you worried about me?” Dazai teases. His eyes dart over to Ranpo blissfully ignoring everything happening before him, wondering why he didn't give Kunikida his whereabouts when he could have easily figured out where he's been hiding. He just smiles, though. Ranpo keeps hidden what Dazai doesn't want everyone to know about.

“I'm one more incident away from putting a tracker in that damn bolo tie,” Kunikida grumbles, somehow managing to get past his anger and sit back down in his chair. He grumbles something that Dazai doesn't quite understand. He feels safe enough to approach his own desk, and sit across from Kunikida.

“What was that?” Dazai asks, tilting his head.

“Are you okay?” Kunikida says, straightening up a stack of reports on his desks with a heavy huff.

“I'm okay,” Dazai says with a half smile. “No need to worry your pretty little head about me, Kunikida. You know the universe won't let me die.”

“That's not the point, Dazai,” Kunikida grumbles, almost reminiscent of a comment Chuuya made to him at the hospital. These two always insist on worrying over him. “Tell me next time you're hurt. At least send me a damn text so I know you're not bleeding out in a ditch somewhere.”

“Well, I could be, regardless of the contents of whatever text I might send you,” Dazai teases, and Kunikida looks like he might throw the pen he's holding right at Dazai's head, but he refrains.

“Get to work. You still need to finish that report,” Kunikida grumbles, tossing him a blue folder.

“I thought you said you'd finish it for me,” Dazai says, lifting up his head as the door opens, revealing Atsushi and Kyoka, both looking surprised to see him. Atsushi rushes past everyone else as Dazai smiles at him.

“No, you pissed me off. I started it, you do the rest,” Kunikida sighs just before Atsushi sits beside him and starts a string of worried questions and assumptions that Dazai only half listens to, only watches his eyes. Chuuya really does have them wrong, they would never want him in that situation.

Chuuya would definitely like Atsushi, with how much he likes Akutagawa. He might even get along with Kunikida. Chuuya joining them for dinner sometime is some faraway ridiculous fantasy that he could only ever see Oda suggesting, and he just smiles to himself.

“Are you even listening?” Atsushi sighs.

“Sorry, sorry,” Dazai says. “Start over?”

#request from ao3 <3 #my fanfictions #hope u guys like it sorry for the break 💔 #skk #chuuya #dazai #soukoku #chuuya x dazai #kunikidazai #kunikida #akutagawa #mori #ranpo #sickfic #injury #whump #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #illness #sick #ao3 #vomiting #ptsd #medical trauma #fanfics

[isaksbestpillow]

Suki yanen kedo dou yaro ka episode 1

Another day, another bl. Produced by Yomiuri TV, Suki yanen kedo dou yaro ka ('I like you, so what do you say') is the newest bl to hit Tver. Here is the synopsis copy-pasted from Mdl:

Soga, who, after a divorce and relocation to Osaka, seeks solace in dining at 26-year-old Sakae's restaurant. Unbeknownst to Soga, Sakae sees him as more than just a regular customer.

I don't know anything about this show or the manga it seems to be based on, but I'm now going to review the first episode for you. Ikimahyo!

We're starting with a winter sale version of the opening of His it seems

It can be hard to stand out in today's bl scene but this time we're trying something new with a main character who speaks in Oosaka dialect

We are making dashi

The food looks great!!

I like how everyone is speaking in Oosaka dialect! I was a bit disappointed that you couldn't really tell Bokura no shokutaku/our dining table was set in Tokushima.

We're experiencing a Fated Meeting 運命の出会い

Now we're experiencing Love at First Sight　一目ぼれ. At least Sakae likes Soga for reasons other than looks (he's kind to strangers, well-mannered and likes Sakae's food)

So far all the Oosaka people have been quite intense to say the least

Soga is experiencing a culture shock in Oosaka. I've actually never been to west of Ishikawa so I'd probably also experience a shock because my Japan is in the slow life of Touhoku haha.

Soga thinks Oosaka people are too fun-seeking. Sakae is horrified.

Sakae majored in dramatic face journeys

Despite the aforementioned face journeys, Soga texted back!

All Tokyo people do is lie, says Sakae before proceeding to gush over a text message

Sakae and the usual bl backstory: he has sworn off of love and dating after a breakup

Soga doesn't like asparagus, he is cancelled to me

Asparagus as a symbol of overcoming your fears for love

That's a lot of baggage to display in front of a guy you barely know, Soga! I guess that's the bartender effect

Well that was fast!!! Explains the title lol

Verdict: The story felt a bit rushed at times but it was intriguing enough for me to keep watching for now. The izakaya is a nice change of scenery from the usual office and school settings. The chemistry between the actors remains to be seen.

For those of you with Gagaoola, the show is apparently coming there soon.

#suki yanen kedo dou yaro ka #siiri watches #that's my new tag for these! not gonna go through my old posts to tag them though

[whimsical-lullaby]

Hi! So nice to see another person who writes for Shogun on here.

Anyways, I was wondering if I could get a Yoshii Toranaga x fem reader please? I don't know what all you write in the story, but I know it will be good. Thanks! And take all the time you need, I am in no rush.

Shrivelled Blossoms

You were always a strong person who knew what to say and when to say something in the right moment. And when to keep silent and re-evaluate words and tones that needed to be input in a conversation, whether serious or not. So, what happened today? You just... froze. A word you're so sure isn't even in your vocabulary.

Your friends warned that this would be a serious case to handle and you prepared for it every possible way you could. And when it came, you tackled it in every direction.

'It's not cheese and sprinkles, being a lawyer.' Your father would say. This field of work was hard but you weren't about to lie to yourself, that it didn't build you up as a person.

Entering the train, you took a seat and then texted your friends, telling them you were on the subway. Honestly, it was a miracle you even made it this far! What with the many shots of saké you shared with your friends, that you yourself couldn't remember the exact number.

Your childhood friends who still lived in Osaka texted you after work, when you were curled up on your couch and in your Disney pajamas, contemplating whether to do a Disney marathon starting with Pirates of the Caribbean or just continue binging the last episode of Demon Slayer. They invited you to a girls' night out to cheer you up and you were too nice to decline as much as you were anticipating the latter.

Plus, you thought that it would be nice to catch up after some time you three were caught up in your hectic careers.

Now you wanted nothing more than to plop on your bed and let the drowsiness take you to a peaceful slumber. The hangover can be dealt with once you wake up.

But still, thoughts of the court case resurfaced once more. It's to be expected, as you were an over-achiever ever since you could remember.

It wasn't so much as failing the case and bringing failure to your family name... Well, just a tad bit on that part. But the rest, you wanted to fight for someone so passionately and effortlessly. The dejected look your client gave you made you want to shrivel up and find a place to hide and never come out. But time waits for no one and this wasn't the last case you had. However, you viewed it as your big break.

What a waste, you thought as you contemplated appealing. However that thought was soon demolished by the fear of making a fool of your client and yourself so you just let it rest.

You were so caught up in your internal conflict that you didn't hear the intercom announcement. When you lifted your head up, you realized every passenger was gone and the train was moving once more. Shit.

Clicking your phone open, you immediately went to the phone tracker app only to stare dumbfounded at the moving point from your stop. "Shit, shit, shit, shit!"

You stood up hastily and turned your head to the right. Was it even possible to get ahold of the conductor? You didn't know but you would try. As you took your first steps, the lights flickered just for a millisecond and it went on once more.

A part of you furiously fought off the whispers in your ears of the urban legends of riding a train at night. You weren't big on scary stuff but you grew up mostly with your grandparents so you were a tad bit superstitious.

Gulping hard, you beelined for the front door, hoping that no ghosts or spirits will claim your soul. The train is probably old, it might need a few things checked up. That's why the lights are flickering, your voice of reason was there to calm you down as usual. It's nothing!

Those movies are unrealistic! How could the character's brains function properly when they are stuck in unsettling situation while you are struggling to open a damn door? Despite your voice of reason, your mind kept traversing back to those camp stories and deep down, you thought that a spirit of a bear would maul you. Why the fuck would a bear be doing in a subway station? You're not thinking clearly!

At some point, you managed to pry the sliding door open and enter the pilot's compartment. The air was knocked out of your lungs as the train violently shook from side to side but you managed to grab onto something to stable you. What the fuck is going on?

Losing balance, you fell to the floor and a dull thud filled your ears before it was replaced by a white noise that viscously stung.

The last thing your blackening vision saw was red liquid pooling on the metal floors of the subway train.

...

Furrowing your eyebrows, you blinked your disoriented eyes open, trying to adjust to the light seeping through the room. Room?

Examining the room you were in, you spotted no doors. Only three mahogany wooden doors and a traditional screen door.

You shut your eyes, trying not to panic. Trying to remember how you got here. Your head feels foggy, temples throbbing as you sort through vague memories.

The court case. Night out with friends, few shots of saké, maybe more since you didn't remember the number. The subway. Missing your stop. The light's flickering on and off. The earthquake.

And then ... nothing.

You can't remember.

Your eyes fly open and you take comfort in the feeling of being fully clothed. But it's not your clothes. Glancing down at the unfamiliar outfit. A simple teal kosode. It felt comfortable ... but it still unsettled you - the fact that someone could have undressed you. You hoped and prayed it was a woman, at the very least.

As you sat up, shutting your eyes as you listened to the ache in your head. Opening them once more, observing your new surroundings.

It looked to be one of those traditional homes. There were no windows. Light passed through the paper of the shoji screen. It kind of reminded you of that traditional Airbnb you stayed in for a night with your mom. There were no modern appliances like air-conditioning or heaters. It looked plain.

Your eyes found your sneakers, next to your neatly folded clothes. But your handbag was no where to be seen. I've been robbed, was your first thought and then pieced together the puzzle. And you concluded you were kidnapped and they confiscated your handbag.

Your heart leaps into your throat as it becomes clear that you need to get the hell out of here.

Wobbling as you slowly got up, your bare feet brushed along the tatami  mat, taking your clothes and sneakers in your hands, ambling your way towards the shoji screen. You dropped your shoes and pulled the sliding door to the left and you were met with shocked brown eyes staring back at you.

"Miss, you shouldn't be up and about with your injury!" The young woman gasped.

"Who are you and where am I?" Your hoarse voice croaked and felt scorching in your throat due to screaming for dear life in the train.

"I am Lady Toda Mariko," she introduce and from the corner of your eye, you saw two women shuffling in the room. One carried a bowel of water and a towel, the other carried what looked to be a neatly folded kosode. "I am instructed to bring you to My Lord once you regain consciousness."

"Your Lord?" You echoed and your eyes widen. "Jesus Christ? Am .. Am I in heaven?"

Lady Mariko blinked momentarily before laughing softly. "No, I assure you, you are very much alive. And seem to be doing well than yesterday. You are in Ajiro village and I've been instructed to bring you to My Lord, Toranaga-sama."

....

You had been out of place.

Exotic, is one word Toranaga could describe you and quite frankly the only word he could find in his mind after last night's events. His brother had betrayed him, his brash son drove himself to his death trying to avoid an already fixed fate. And just a few feet way from Nagakado's lifeless body was you.

An unconscious young woman, half drowning in a pond filling up with crimson blood. Sustaining an injury to your head that he requested should be treated by a skilled healer.

Hiromatsu thought you were an assassin or a spy who was caught up in the wrong place and time. Why else were you there? You were just so out of place. Upon closer inspection, you were anything but.

They confiscated your bag and searched for any weapon you might be concealing but found.. strange, peculiar things instead. Yet nothing threatening.

Scrutinizing you now in a different light, his thoughts were concluded.

Silence.

That was Toranaga's tactic. He waited to see who would speak first. And judging by how your eyes travelled everywhere in the room, unable to meet his. You were shifty, and you needed to fill the silence quickly.

Very simple, that's what you were. But definitely non-threatening. Unless your true self was hidden well behind a facade. Now that was a different story and he would soon find out.

You did not know how many centimeters your forehead was to the floor, or how many degrees you were bowing. Once you were presentable as so Lady Mariko deemed you to be, you were led to a relatively spacious room by two men in samurai haircuts and made to kneel before this person she had referred to him as her Lord, Yoshii Toranaga.

Behind Toranaga was a Tokoma which displayed an impressive samurai armer and a part of you thought the production crew really had the budget to pull off even the smallest detail.

"Hello-"

"Who are you?" He asked.

"Me? My name is Y/N." You answered. Silence dragged on again and it became unbearable so you filled it. "Is this a movie set?"

"A what?"

"I was just assuming... where are you hiding the cameras?" The two men shared a glance and you were starting to get annoyed that they were beating around the bush.

You desperately wanted an ibuprofen to sooth your headache and call a doctor to check if you didn't sustain any brain injury. Yes, you were grateful for their assistance whilst you were unconscious but you wanted nothing more than to go home.

"Look. There's been a huge misunderstanding here." You say, the tension reverberates in your throat as the words came out in a petty croak.

"Where are you from?" Toranaga asks.

"I am from Tokyo."

The lord hesitated, not knowing of a place by the name of Tokyo but ventured on. "And tell me. What were you doing in the middle of last night's squabble?" You blinked at his question, not knowing what to say.

"You mean the train incident?" You trekked, not sure to what he was alluding. "I was distracted and missed my stop so the train continued on it's journey."

"What are you saying?" It was the man on the other end of the room who spoke. Lady Mariko told you he was Toranaga's right-hand man, Hiromatsu. "Speak plainly."

Breathing out through your nose, you collected yourself. Opening your mouth to speak, you were cut off by the old man. "Are you an assassin sent by Ishidō?" He accuses.

"No."

"A spy?"

Your eyes bulged at the mere thought of doing that. "Jesus Christ. No!"

"Then explain this weapon." Toranaga placed your phone in front of him. "One of my Koshō took it from your bag and it's light burned his eyes."

Mouth agape, you couldn't fandom the craziness of this situation. What hell did I step into? You wondered inwardly.

"That's because he turned it on. Don't you know what a phone is?"

Toranaga and Hiromatsu stared at you as if you had grown two heads. You hated that it made you look stupid, in front of these serious-looking men. It reminded you of your years in college and some classmates never thought you would make it as a lawyer because you were too sensitive.

Seeing this was going no where, you played along with their game. Method actors, you reasoned with yourself. Perhaps you are in a movie set, set in feudal Japan ... based on their clothing and the extraordinary built set.

Surprisingly, they came to a conclusion and believed you. Toranaga allowed a roof over your head as a guest in his Edo castle until he figured out what he should do with you. You felt like a burden to him and you hated that.

Adjusting for you wasn't so much of a problem. You had a great teacher. Lady Mariko was very patient with you and explained everything you needed to know, that coupled with you were a fast learner, took you farther.

However, in some places you felt restricted. Like the many layers you had to carry when you wear your kimono, or the way you had to shuffle your feet all the time when you walked. Sometimes when you made sure no one was around you, you walked the normal way you did. Screw grace and elegance .. at certain times, that is.

Thankfully you would be going home pretty soon. Toranaga and his entourage were marching to Edo, present day Tokyo.

The lord's brows furrowed as he silently watched you raise your arm in different directions, clutching your magic box in your palm. Muttering something about 'no reception' in a groan.

You were a strange thing. But tolerable.

Upon arriving in Edo, you stopped on your tracks, no longer trailing behind the foot soldiers. He wondered what shocked you...

Continuing to observe your body language, you were now keeping to yourself as your eyes scanned the still thriving city of Edo.

A few days went by as Nagakado's funeral arrived all too quickly and he was staying within the walls of his castle, intent on having time to himself to process these emotions on his own. From afar, he gazed at the smoke drawing up to the sky - the fire that would turn his son's remains into ashes. He needed to distract his thoughts before grief took over. Weakness was never an option.

However, he's mind kept coming back to you. The lord noticed he rarely saw you. He began taking note of your routine. On most occasions, you spent your time in the gardens or by the pond. One time he caught you drawing something on the sand, and the gardener fumed at his ruined work.

Upon inquiry, you told him you drew what you explained as a stickman in an aeroplane, flying back to his home. You missed home ... yet you said Edo was your home. That confused him tremendously.

Requesting a maidservant to invite you to dine with him. Toranaga raised his brows upon receiving the response. "My Lord, she declined your invitation."

Nodding, the maid took her departure. Letting out a breath, he humbly sought you out.

The maids were flocking around you with towels in their hands, lecturing your ear off but you heard nothing. You weren't thinking straight as you sat under the rain. Perhaps a part of you was trying to reach God somehow by asking to end this dreadful nightmare. Reality hit you like a bus, the days were moving and you slowly came into realization that you were stuck, in the past.

Thoughts about your parents and family invaded Would they miss you too much? Would they think you were dead if they searched high and low and couldn't find your body? You began to recalling your grandmother's funeral .. all those sorrowful faces looking up at you, voices giving you and your family condolences. Would that be the same for you as well?

You were unable fathom why .. why this happened to you?

Was this to be your reality?

Drowning in your depressive thoughts, you hadn't noticed Lord Toranaga enter the threshold of your room, requesting the maids to leave you both.

Advancing towards you, he stood in front of you with furrowed brows confusion. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm not going home, am I?" My bottom lip trembled as your heart swelled, feeling tears fill up your eyes.

Feeling a warm finger under your chin, he brought your eyes to meet his. A warm smile settled on his lips. "I do not know how or what brought you here, Y/N. But everyone has a fate, perhaps being here is your fate."

You blinked away the tears, sniffling lightly. "But..but why?" Hot tears fell down your cheeks. "My life was just beginning, I was starting to make my parents proud of me, I was starting to find my footing in my career... There is nothing for me here."

As much as you wanted to appear strong all the time, you broke down. Everything you've ever worked hard for is gone and now you were forced to start life anew, in a time not of your own, with new people.

When she sobbed, Toranaga's body went froze, not knowing what to do. He wasn't accustomed to a woman crying in front of him, most woman he knew had learned to stiffen their lips and march on with their pain carefully hidden away.

Hesitantly, he brought you in an embrace, shocking himself as well. But was relieved as you didn't pull away, deciding to lay your head on his chest.

Not knowing how to comfort her any further, he decided to just listen. Inviting her to dine with him in his private quarters and just listened to how she grew up in the year 21st century.

Toranaga had found you infuriating at first.

You were a disagreeable woman with a sharp tongue and quick-witted mind. And he almost lost his words around you. Almost, being the key word. Brazen, just like his son and everyone else in his circle, you wanted him to fight.

He didn't know if you were stupid or too bold for your own good. Such matters needed to be handled tactically, that's what he told you one night as you dined together, getting to know you better. In hope of steering your mind away from the conversation.

And then you told him of your position as a lawyer.

Toranaga appreciate your willingness to fight for people you personally did not know, whom you addressed as 'clients'. He liked your spirit of having to give someone else a voice to speak their thoughts aloud, maybe that's what made you so fearless.

Daresay he wanted to believe you. That you came from the distant future. A world so extraordinary with tall buildings that reached for the heavens, flying steel dragons that flew across the sky from one country the other, horseless carriages that cruised through the streets. Such a world was out of his imagination.

That was when you showed him your rectangle magic box that glows brilliantly with a switch of a button, which stored countless moments in time called 'pictures'.

It stored pictures of you and the people closest to you in life. Places you've been to, your achievements. Every picture had a story. Most them were of you goofing around and you giggled at those, showing him a part of your character, a carefree soul. That was when he started believing you. This truth was solidified after he asked and you told him of growing up in a unified Japan. Toranaga gleamed softly. For he too wished to live in that reality with no wars, losses and betrayals.

Your reality seemed like a tranquil heaven he wished to bask and his heart shattered when he saw that look in your eyes when you finish telling him of your home. It was like a tide going out and it went out slowly... how he desperately wanted he could stop it surprised him.

You told him of how Japan was so beautifully broken. Your words were like a melodic poem to his ears. Narrating of the cycles earthquakes and hurricanes that destroy homes, the losses. Yet everytime, there still is that slight strength to keep standing up defiantly, rebuilding what was once broken. "That's what makes Japan unique," you told him.

That was something you both agreed on.

Daresay, he found himself distracted by you at times. Him of all people, distracted by a woman, no less. That was unheard of. Such feelings were hazardous ... but he was audacious enough to act on them one morning he made up his mind.

Toranaga found you standing on the engawa, overlooking the serenely pitter pattering rain.

It was like you sensed his presence because your body never stiffened this time when you both crossed each other. You were relaxed and just like at last night's dinner, you were free to speak your thoughts without hesitation.

"I've given myself time to think about it, what you said." A sigh escaped your slightly parted lips and they settled in a serene thin line which was half a smile. "It's not so bad when you get used to it."

Honestly, you began to think this whole thing was a vacation. A long needed vacation - you would adjust. Maybe you're starting to, maybe it'll take some time.

Peering up at the Lord, you saw what you could make out as a soft smile. It wasn't all the way to his eyes - perhaps one day you would have the pleasure to see that miracle. "I have given myself time to think, as well." He shifted to observe the garden and his brows furrowed in the slightest, as if contemplating his words. "I want you by my side."

"As what?" You quarried. "If you want to know the details of what happens in Japan's history, I don't know Jack shit, I'm sorry."

Toranaga chuckles. "Fate has many things fixed for us as a people. The heavens would have sent you anywhere in Japan but they brought you to my path ... And I'd be honored to have you by my side."

It was a lie. You knew exactly what happens in Japan's history. What kind of person does not know their country's history? You always stood by the law. The laws of physics, the laws of science, the natural law. It wouldn't hurt to break the laws of time travel, would it?

If these feelings were true and they ran deeper than what you ancipated ... you would help him win this war, so that you sustain the head on your shoulders and stay by his side.

Giving him a brilliant smile to his earnest words, you reply. "I'd be honored to be by your side, too."

There were many preparations Toranaga needed to settle for the next days to come, and today he would go to his son's final place. And thank him. Both he and his trusted friend, Hiromatsu.

And then ... Crimson Sky would commence.

But for now, he drank delight in this peaceful reprieve, observing the nostalgic drizzle of the rain with you by his side.

#shōgun 2024 #fx shogun #Toranaga x female reader #yoshii toranaga

[dellalalakang]

triple n: sunoo cut

masterlist | main masterlist

italics dialogue = english

how della lost no nut november

contains: mutual masturbation, playful death threats (pls it’s just besties being besties)

"Do you wanna have some ramyeon in my room?" Sunoo asked Della when they were packing up after the concert.

"With Riki?" of course not- Sunoo has ulterior motives.

"No, he wants to do a live later. Probably gonna use Heeseung-hyung's room."

"Ahh okay then. I'll just drop my things off and meet you there," step one; get her alone. Done.

❅◦❆◦❅◦❆◦❅◦❆◦❅◦❆

"Woahh, not bad at all," Della looked around the room with raised eyebrows. "Did you clean things up or was it actually this tidy?" she sat down on one of the beds. "It smells really nice too," step two; set the room. Done.

A bit of cleaning, sprayed cologne everywhere, played some nice background music, dimmed the lights. Perfect

"I cleaned things up a bit, but not much at all," he prepared the cup noodles. "And it's the new perfume I bought. Smells so good, right?"

"It really does."

Sunoo had a game plan. He did not want to join in on the dumb triple N challenge like the others, but that did not mean that he didn't make a challenge for himself.

He is not losing his virginity just yet, but he is going to be the one to make Della lose 3N.

"I have some of this if you wanted to give it a try," he took out a can from the fridge. "It's really popular here. Alcohol's at 3% and it's really sweet. It'll taste just like soda."

"Like beer?" she went to stand next to him. "I don't like beer or soda, baby."

"Yeah, but-"

"I'll give it a try. Don't worry," step three; loosen her up a bit. Done.

"Are these sweatpants new? I've never seen you wear them before," she eyed his grey sweatpants.

'Oh right, I forgot about these. Jake said Della loves when we wear these.'

'He told me that there's a trick to create seduction effects with these. Just wearing them isn't enough,' Sunoo recalled.

"Oh I borrowed them from Niki. I'm thinking of getting a pair," she nodded her head slowly.

"You should. Suits you well," forgotten step four which was supposed to be step two; wear grey sweatpants and follow Jake's tip. Done.

"Finished! Do you wanna put something on the TV while we eat?" Sunoo placed the noodles and drinks on the table.

"I'm good. The music's nice," everything is going right so far. "A toast to Osaka?" she raised her can.

"Toast!" he clinked his with hers.

For awhile, nothing much happened afterwards. They chatted while enjoying their food (and Della's tiny sips of her drink) but that was it. It was pretty much like two best friends hanging out instead of a couple.

So Sunoo had to escalate it.

"I just realised your nails are back," he reached to grab her right hand. "How'd they grow so fast?"

"Ah, these two are fake. See?" she showed him the proof. "Got them done just before we came here."

"It's so pretty," he said in his deep voice while stroking the hand lightly.

He could feel her eyes on him, but she remained silent, as if she was admiring him. Step five; get her to get in a makeout mood. Done.

He then slowly raised his eyes to make eye contact without changing his position. The action made Della look away when her cheeks started to tint (even more).

Step six; just fucking go for it.

He grabbed her chin to bring her in for a kiss. Just something slow and soft that leaves room for escalation.

One of her hands went up to Sunoo's cheek and tilted her head to the side. She could feel her heart doing flips when she heard him sigh.

She moved on top of his lap, adding tongue into the mix and hugging him close. There wasn't any grinding involved, but she could definitely feel something poking down there.

"Can I suck you off?" she rested their foreheads together.

"Yeah, but-" he paused a bit to swallow. "I wanna make you feel good, too," he held onto her thighs and carried her to his bed. "Can we?"

Suddenly the fact that it was November completely flew out of Della's mind.

"Of course," and that's how her shorts and panties disappeared.

Sunoo turned the two around so that she was the one on top, and loosened the drawstring of his pants. Della had her lips attached to his neck whilst her hands tried to push down his bottoms. She didn't go far, so he had to remove the rest himself.

"Mmm," her left hand immediately brought itself to the semi-hard-on. She could feel him get more erect as she slowly started pumping. She could feel herself getting wetter, and his beautiful moans only worsened it. 

Della is incredibly fucking horny, she needs stimulation now.

"Sunoo," she almost sounded pathetic, trying to grind onto his bare thigh.

"I'm right here- come here," he breathed out. His hand travelled behind her to reach her heat. He couldn't reach in enough to finger her properly, but he could easily rub her folds.

"Ahh," she let out a high-pitched moan, resting her head on his chest. She adjusted her position so he could actually reach the clit. "Fuck! Right there!" and as always, he could locate himself with ease.

"Go a little faster, darling," he groaned out. "Fuckk, there we go," he whined and used his free hand to pull her in for a kiss.

"Sunoo-ya," she pulled away with a gasp. "More, please."

If he could, he would've kept them in the same position, but since Della wants penetration, he would have to be on top. 

There was a time when they tried mutual masturbation in that exact position, and it did not turn out well.

So that's exactly what he did; he flipped them over again. Wasting no time, he immediately enters two fingers into her wet entrance.

"Sunoo ahh!" she threw her head back and unconsciously pumped faster. Her mouth let out moans after moans, unable to shut up for even a second. "You feel so fucking good!" of course, she never forgets to praise her baby.

Della's head was empty. She could not comprehend how mutual masturbation could feel that good. It felt as if it was her first time.

Suddenly she gave a loud gasp (and one that sober Della would be embarrassed about). The familiar knot in her lower abdomen was building up incredibly quickly, and she knew that she was going to cum any second.

"Are you close?" Sunoo breathed out. If Della's eyes had stayed open, she would have caught the smirk on his face. 

"Yes- please!" her free hand went to cover her mouth.

"Go ahead, you don't need my permission," he leaned down to plant kisses on her neck's sweet spot.

"SHIT! Ahh!" she held his head in place and squeezed her eyes shut. Her pumping hand was getting sloppier but she was trained enough to not stop or accidentally squeeze too hard. "Sunooo!" she cried out as she reached her high.

"Good girl," Sunoo said in a low voice, slowing down and lifting his head up to kiss her lips. He removed his hand to continue playing with her clit lightly. "I'm close too, keep pumping."

Della was still panting hard, but her brain cleared up enough to focus on giving an amazing handjob.

"Agh fuck!" now Sunoo was the one who was slowing down. He was nearing his orgasm, and it was coming fast. "You're so fucking good at this- ahh," his chuckle was cut off by a whine.

"Are you close, darling?" Della grabbed his working hand and rested it on her collarbone. "Relax, let me take care of you."

"So close, Lala. Any second now," his head floated above her chest to hide his face. "FUCK! Shit! I'm cumming!"

"There you go, darling. Good boy," she caressed his hair as ropes of cum spurted on her stomach. "Thank you," he lifted his head up so they could connect their lips.

"Thank you too, darling," he pulled away with a smile. "Let's clean u-" Della's phone suddenly started ringing before Sunoo could finish his sentence. "Go pick that up. I'll clean you up," he gave one last peck and stood up to grab some tissues.

Incoming call: Hubby ❤️

"Hello? Jaeyun?" Della immediately put the call on speaker to not leave Sunoo out, especially after what they just did.

"Uh- Della, where are you?" Jake's voice filled the room. Straight away, Della knew that he was not alone.

"The hotel room.. Why?"

"I'm with Heeseung-hyung, Jay and Sunghoon. We had a little discussion and came to an agreement," Sunoo and eyed each other as the former continued to clean up the mess he made on her abdomen.

"Mhmm?" Sunoo held back a laugh. He knows exactly what face his hyungs are making. 'They're down bad.'

"We decided that our triple N will be a competition on who can get you to lose first," and that's when it hit Della. "'Cause to us, it's just more rewarding," SHE FUCKING LOST NO NUT NOVEMBER.

Her eyes shifted to Sunoo's face in panic, only to find the guy smiling innocently.

'You fucking bitch,' she mouthed, making him look away to avoid laughing out loud.

"Hello?" Jake questioned.

"Jakey, are you on speaker?" Della looked into Sunoo's eyes with rage.

"Yeah, we can hear you," Jay spoke up. 

"Guys... How do I put this..." she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Prepare to get yelled at. "I... lost..."

"WHAT?!" she looked at Sunoo again while mouthing a 'fuck you.'

"Alone?!" Heeseung's voice boomed.

"Uhh..." Sunoo couldn't contain his giggles anymore, leaning against Della's chest.

"Sorry hyungs," he grinned.

"WITH SUNOO?!" "KIM SUNOO?!" "WHAT?!" "SUNOO-YA?!" all four hyuppas said altogether.

"I'm sorry guys but it just sort of... happened.." Della tried to explain. How can she get out of this? "I didn't even realised that I los-"

"Della. My room. Right fucking now," Sunghoon cut off in a dark voice before hanging up.

"KIM SUNOO, YOU DID THIS ON PURPOSE?!" Della slammed her phone on the empty bed-space next to her. "I'm gonna fucking kill you!" she sent multiple playful hits on his back but kept him on her chest.

"I won 3N!" Sunoo just couldn't stop giggling. "Thank you, darling!" he cuddled into her. "And please don't die tonight! I hope my girlfriend stays in one piece!"

"I'm going to kill you!" she playfully choked him. "I can't believe I lost just like that and with someone who didn't even participate!"

"YAY! I'M THE KING OF NOVEMBER!" Sunoo cheered, unbothered with the hands on his neck.

"RIP Kang Della. Born in Seoul, 2003. Died in Osaka, 2022."

requested: — triple n nsfw ver (part 3/4) — sunoo's triple n cut

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @lalalalawon @clar-iii @deafeningballoonpeach

#kang lala #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #sunoo smut

[fayrinferno]

The (printed) collection

From time to time I get a question like, "do you have this or that book?" So, a few weeks back, I finally took them all out of their hiding place and grabbed some photos. Wish I had used my camera instead of phone, I had to stand on a chair to get it all and yeah, the picture is not the sharpest.

Anyway, I have some other stuff, figures and such, although I admittedly DO focus more on books as an artist/writer/translator. These books are the ones I translate from so I wasn't going for mint conditions, although a few of them are. You can see some of them still packed in the store bags. I included the CDs cause... well, they were next to the books and they do have some printed material as well.

The Shiren Suiki book gets a separate photo cause after taking the photos at home I realized I had left it at work when I scanned it... practically crying as I did cause it was barely opened when I bought it and it's a beautiful book. My Anvils are also very fragile.

I may do a complete list one day but for now, here are the quick descriptions.

ARTBOOKS & FANBOOKS I have pretty much all of the major official books I think, missing maybe 1-2 pieces. The one that may look less familiar is Hiroshi Osaka's personal artbook. I also have four of the relevant Nobuteru Yuuki artbooks. The bottom right one with the orange title is the issue of Newtype Magazine with a feature about Esca.

SMALLER BOOKS (let's pretend that's a category) Here I got all the novels (they are out of their sleeves cause I was working on them), all the filmbooks, Secrets of Escaflowne, Escaflowne Bible, and the Energist Memories manga/doujin collection.

DOUJINSHI I was mostly going for stuff I haven't seen online so I only got a handful. Besides the Shiren Suiki book, there are three Minato Tajima doujins (one of them is racy heh but I'm not hiding that I have it). One of the other doujins may look unfamiliar; it's a compilation book that includes other series (the character on the cover is from DN Angel). People who talk to me on Discord probably recognize the Nanoka doujinshi cover.

CDs AND THE LIKE I don't have all the soundtracks for some reason, probably cause I thought the missing ones wouldn't be hard to get. The PSX game is the special edition with the tarot cards. The LDs that I literally bought just for the covers and inlays. I also have all the audio dramas, some CDs with extras... and a phone card that was for some reason packed in a CD case lol (kidding, it's precious that they would give it that kind of protection). Oh, and there are two movie posters which I guess don't fall under either category.

I have some other stuff that is kinda related to Esca "by association" such as by artist or things that "looked similar" but I didn't include them. Also the figures. I may update this post with those but this is the brunt of it. I will be posting some goodies from these soon!

Same goes for the ongoing translations that I've been doing updates on in this post. Life is too short to delay them for months and years because of perfectionism, or rather, being self conscious about one's imperfect language skills. I am thankful to everyone who has helped me so far, proofreading my translations (coverteyes, pikafwance, sevenstars, and radical-rad1986)... I'm not tagging you guys but know that I'm VERY grateful, also to the other people who are helping me with other projects). I always had fun working together with you but it's no longer sustainable and I likely bit off more than I can chew. So I will get myself out of the way. There are two books that are almost complete as of today so I will just probably go chapter by chapter. I hope to be done with this asap but also December is a busy month for me so I'm not sure how smoothly it will go. Let's hope it does.

#escaflowne #anime merchandise #artbook #fanbook #doujinshi

[hillbilly---man]

tell me all about your trip, what was your favorite thing you did, what's something neat you didn't expect, did you eat anything cool did you buy any souvenirs

Aaaaaaah thanks for asking! It's hard to answer so I've been thinking on it for a bit lol

My favorite thing I did:

Genuinely I don't know! I'm inclined to answer Ishinomaki/Tashirojima (Cat Island) though, mostly because of how off-the-beaten-path it was.

For some reference, most people who visit Japan for the first time (while technically it wasn't my first, it was my first as a tourist so I planned it like a first-timer) stick to a relatively small area: Tokyo, Kyoto, Osaka, etc, sometimes heading to Hiroshima.

[not that I think you personally need a geography lesson Kas but just in case someone reading this might]

But this place was up in Tōhoku (inside the red heart on the map) so it didn't have that touristy feel.. which isn't a bad thing to have but I thought it was neat to get away from that for a bit.

But yeah! In addition to that incredible hotel I mentioned in my other post (Tama Hotel in Ishinomaki), the city was really chill and the island was gorgeous. It had this whole "old declining fishing village vibe" to it which was so interesting. Plus the views of the sea were incredible:

Not to mention the cats! Which, despite the reputation of Japan's animal islands seemed to be in no worse health than your average stray cats I'd say. Several were also neutered. The island didn't feel overrun, it just seemed like a place with a whole bunch of them. And they were so friendly! We'd be walking down the street and a cat would see us and just start excitedly trotting towards us and beg for pets. My sister even got to hold a bunch of them! (You're not supposed to forcibly pick them up, so she wouldn't hold them if they showed even the first sign of wanting down)

A gif of them as a gift:

Something neat I didn't expect:

I didn't expect people to be so delighted by us speaking extremely basic Japanese to them!

Well, I did kind of expect it a little bit I didn't think it would be SUCH A BIG DEAL.

I've been very casually learning Japanese for a while, but it's mostly Duolingo so it's not like I like, know the language or anything. I went there with some vocabulary and just enough confidence to use a word or two. But when I hit a cashier with a "daijoubu" (I'm fine) when they ask if I need a bag or even just an "arigatou gozaimasu" (thank you) at the end they seem to be so much happier about the interaction. I honestly wonder if they're used to white tourists being kind of difficult and stubborn.

By far the most unexpected bit of useful vocabulary I used was "douzo":

Exiting an elevator at the same time as someone else? Old lady gets on the bus and you want to give her your seat? Someone in a store reaches for the same product you were reaching for?

Just gesture to the thing you're offering, smile, and say "douzo" to let them know they can go ahead. Doing that got me so many smiles from people! One old couple was so happy about it that they talked to us for a little while (we didn't understand much of each other but I caught that they were in their 80s and they caught that we were going to the aquarium) and they even helped us find our next train!

Did I eat anything cool?

I felt like I didn't really get a chance to be very adventurous with food this time! My sister is very picky and refuses to eat pork (it's not a dietary restriction or anything, she just thinks it's gross), raw fish, or cold entrees. Also, we were both pretty sensitive to the smell of seafood during the trip. This meant we were really limited on things like ramen, bento, sushi, etc.

We relied a little too much on American chain restaurants I think. But we did get to eat some good Japanese food though!

We went to this one place called Yakiniku Like (it's a chain and I think it's kinda trendy on tiktok bc it's very tourist friendly). You get a small grill in your table and you order your meat on an iPad and cook it yourself. It was pretty good! Not very adventurous or interesting though.

Snack foods are good too! I finally got to try Japanese pudding (good!), coffee jelly (not my thing but I understand why that pink haired kid I'm always posting about likes it so much), convenience store fried chicken (heavenly), and those strawberry-whipped cream sandwiches they sell at 7-11 (why the hell don't they sell those here).

Also, so many green grape flavored candies! We should do that more

Did I buy any souvenirs?

A little bit!

I spent most of my money on food/transport/logistics so I kind of found myself hesitant to buy too much stuff. I did get a bunch of pins and magnets though!

My pins:

I'm not taking them off my bag but I've circled the new ones! I got a bunch of vintage Olympics pins at a flea market on our first day, and I also got some from the Ghibli Museum and Rabbit Island.

(also in looking at this, I just now realized that I have two Lake Placid 1980 pins on my bag....)

And my magnets:

I collect refrigerator magnets when I travel even more consistently than probably anything else. Every time I travel somewhere I try to get at least one. I came back from Japan with several, lmfao

OH! Also I won this ugly little guy in a UFO catcher and I love him

#hillbilly japan

[ninapi]

New to this (Osamu version)

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Premise: Osamu fights for his very own chance at happiness when he is reunited with his first love, the mother of his brother's son.

Word Count: 2989

Chapter 2: The favorite Twin

You’ve been working with Osamu for the last couple of weeks now, at first you thought it would be tough as you were used to work from home, but having to go out every day and be active has been doing wonders to your mood. You feel energized when you wake up, ready to tackle the next day.

Your son is already used to his school scheduled as well and loves the fact that he goes straight to the shop instead of going home. Not only does he get to eat his uncle’s delicious food everyday but also his house is a lot more spacious and he has it all for himself when you guys are working.

Osamu’s shop is actually bigger than you would think for a shop that only sells onigiri, requiring much more work than just greeting customers and taking orders. The shop opens at 10AM but Seiji goes in at 7AM, since the shop is far from your house you go straight to it after leaving Seiji at school, startling Osamu the first time you did it, but it has now become your daily routine. You even have your own set of keys for both the shop and his house.

It takes you about thirty minutes to walk from the school to the shop but you’ve actually been enjoying it. The weather has been nothing but great lately, specially in the mornings, giving you the loveliest of strolls everyday. The old man from the electronics store waves at you now and his wife even gave you a couple of oranges the other day to share with your family. Since every time you got to the shop Osamu was still sleeping, you officially took on the breakfast duty. You would stop by the very nice small bakery next door every morning, it always had different assortments of bread and pastries, enticing you to change up the breakfast menu constantly. You would have not only that, but also coffee and scrambled eggs ready before Samu even stirred. And it quickly became your priority when you get there, have breakfast ready for him.

Once breakfast was ready you would go downstairs and start cleaning the shop; doing it after closing takes much of a bigger toll on your body so you prefer to do it early, thoroughly, leaving the floors and tables looking like mirrors. Then you would move to the windows and the display menu, making the changes for the daily offerings, all in time before Osamu even decided to go down the stairs to check on you.

His life has improved quite a bit too since you’re there. Not only does he have less things to take care of now, but he also has a lot more time to explore his creativity and make new dishes, causing the business to thrive even more in just a couple of weeks.

But in general, he feels so much better. He sleeps better, he stopped skipping breakfast out of laziness, he laughs so much more and he just feels like a side of him that he thought had died long ago has gone back, making him feel sort of complete again.

──•~❉᯽❉~•──

The lunch hour rush was very intense today leaving you completely out of stock of every single flavor Osamu had prepared that morning. 

You were cleaning one of the tables when you noticed someone left a flyer there teasing at the next big game for the MSBY, they would play in Tokyo this time, you hated when that happened, it made you nervous, was the only reason you watched the sports news, you wanted to be cautious about going out near wherever they would be playing at, but you find yourself in a big predicament now, what if you can’t avoid him any longer? You really don’t wanna think about it right now, but you have a bad feeling.

“Samu, does Atsumu come here often?” Osamu who’s currently preparing for the dinner rush turns to face you, he didn’t think about that. “Well, not really. He does have a house here in Tokyo, but he prefers to be in his Osaka one, they have practice in both places, so he is constantly in the move. He does come to the shop with the rest of his team sometimes though, specially after a game.” he nods, stabbing a carrot at the sudden thought of having to deal with him sooner than later.

“Yeah, about that….” you show him the flyer you found on the table, crouching down to the floor and sighing loudly.

Osamu washed his hands and crouched besides you, rubbing your back, “You really don’t wanna see him, do you?” shaking your head, you look up at him but he can see in your distant eyes that your mind is someplace else. He doesn't like it when you think about Atsumu, he never did. 

“(Y/N) I’ve been wanting to ask you something, but didn’t know how. Sorry if it isn’t the best timing but why did you become his girlfriend? It’s been in my mind for years, can’t really understand the thought process that took you to say yes.” he holds onto your hand, lifting you from the ground and bringing you to one of the tables, grabbing a teapot and some snacks with him on the way. It was time for a break anyways.

“Well, to be very honest, I don’t know. I remember I was very excited because you and I were going to this mysterious adventure after school in our third year and I thought it was a date, but you were so adamant that it wasn’t one, that we were just hanging out like best friends did, it made me feel weird. I was just so angry. And then Tsumu came to us and threw me on his shoulder and just ran away from you. He literally ran around the school with me flailing over his shoulder and I could swear at that point everyone had seen my panties by then. But he was just laughing so hard and his laugh was contagious. We were laughing like idiots for the longest time until he finally put me down when he reached the rooftop and told me he loved me and wanted to be my boyfriend. He…told me what I wanted to hear I guess…so I kindda said yes? Something like that…” you nod lost in your own memories, not even realizing the impact of what you just said.

“So you became his girlfriend just because I didn’t ask you first?” he knows that’s what happened, but always wanted to hear it coming from you.

“Well, yes and no. You were always my favorite, everyone knew that, probably the entire school did. But I was so angry at you and Tsumu made me forget how angry I was, he always knew how to make me laugh and forget my problems. And I don’t know he was so mean to all the other girls, but always so sweet towards me, and the way he looked at me when he told me he loved me…I just wanted to give him a chance, give us a chance and somehow it worked, for a while at least.”

“So I just took too long.” you nod at this, trying to open a bag of cookies, this seemingly being a horribly difficult task at the moment.

“I was going to ask you out that day. That’s why it wasn’t a date.” your eyes are on his, wanting to confirm what you just heard, “How could it be a date if I hadn’t asked you out first? That doesn’t make sense.” he pours some tea into two little paper cups, handing you one of them, “So you wanted to hang out, with me, alone, to ask me on a date?” all you could do was blink, not following his train of thought, “Not exactly. I wanted to be alone with you so I could ask you to be my girl, then I was going to take you on a proper date.” sipping on your tea you analyze the entire day in your head, trying to find clues that you failed to notice back then. You do recall seeing him sweat more than usual and he just wouldn’t look at you in the eyes. An awful thought comes to mind and your stomach falls, “Samu, did you tell Atsumu you were going to do that?” he did it on purpose, didn’t he? “Hm no, I didn’t. But he probably felt I was going to, it was long overdue. Never thought he would literally steal you away though.” your head is spinning.

“Do you think he did all that just to win over you?” you get up from your seat, trembling. Is that all you were? Another trophy for his shelf? But Osamu reached over and held your hand, rubbing soft circles on the back of it, “Nah, he probably loved you just as much as me. He’s just better at expressing himself, so he won.”

You can’t do this right now, letting go of his hand you ran up the stairs, locking yourself in his bathroom. You needed a moment.

Did Tsumu ask you to be his girlfriend because he wanted to be seen as the best twin? Did he just want to prove himself better than his brother like usual? Did he even love you?

And what about you?

Did you say yes to him just because you were upset? No, that’s not it. After that, he became your life. You dedicated all your time to him and you loved him dearly. So why is it so hard to answer that question? Any other day you would have said no to him and you know it, that’s whats eating you inside out right now. Could it be possible that you just used him to get over his brother? No, no, no, you loved Atsumu, even gave him a son. You are just overreacting.

You hear a faint knock on the door, pulling you back to the real world, you were nearly hyperventilating at that point and didn’t notice.

“(Y/N), can you please not lock yourself in my bathroom? I have to pee.” such a lame excuse, you thought, “Then use the one downstairs.” he could hear it in your voice, you were crying. “Just so you know, I have a key for this door, so there’s nothing that would stop me if I wanted to go in.” you let a soft sigh out, trying to control your breathing and reached out for the doorknob, unlocking it.

You were currently sitting inside the tub, hugging your knees to your chest. Face red and puffy. He closes the door behind him and sits next to you, squeezing you onto the side of the tub. He really is massive.

You won’t look back at him, still trying to get a hold of yourself, but you feel his arm sneak around you, laying his head on top of yours. This makes your balance fail and you slump to one side, now pressed tightly against him. You expected him to say something, but he didn’t. He just let you digest the situation while enjoying the warmth your body shares with his.

You are not sure how long after that was that you finally reacted, but you guess its been at least half an hour, “Samu, why are you here? What about the shop?” you nuzzled his chin with your nose, trying to see if he was actually awake, “Well, I wasn't just going to leave you alone crying in the bathroom. I hang the ‘BRB” sign on the door, it’s all good. Don’t worry.” he is using such a soft tone with you, as if he was scared of breaking you if he spoke too loud.

You just wanted to stay there with him, in a tub, for the entire day. But you knew you couldn’t, so you are the first to get up. “Let’s go, you still need to finish before rush hour.” your tears are dry, but your heart keeps screaming, you might or might not have used the father of your son to get over a crush you thought had no future, just to hear it could have one. You’re sad, angry even, at yourself. You know you probably didn’t hurt Atsumu, even if your initial intentions were dubious, you gave him your all and stopped trailing after Osamu the very same day. Even if he indeed got together with you just to win over Osamu, he gave you your pride and joy. There’s nothing to regret, you’d do it all over again. But why do you feel so empty?

──•~❉᯽❉~•──

That night Fukurodani’s current volleyball team came to the shop, they stayed late and ordered so much food, to the point you had to go to their table and tell them there were no ingredients left, they laughed it off and left a bit after that once everyone had finished.

Seeing the teens laughing and pranking each other brought you both lots of good memories. High school was your happiest time, even when they were always practicing you made wonderful memories with both. It was also the last of what you had with Osamu. Once you got serious with Tsumu he would just not let you two alone, never. He totally knew it was in his best interest not to do so. That always bothered you, but you knew it was probably for the best. Being around Samu always gave you second thoughts.

The shop was a mess, what were they, chickens? There’s rice all over the floor and its just disgusting. Not to mention the fact that they ate the entire kitchen. “I think we should close tomorrow. You can take the day off.” he was trying to give you space, but you didn’t really want that.

“A day off? No, it’s ok. Someone has to clean this mess. I can stay and clean while you go shopping. Unless you need my help, then we can just do both together.” he nods, untying his apron and heading upstairs to check on his nephew. He loved the fact that ‘we’ is once again you and him, not you and Atsumu.

Seiji was sleeping on his bed, under the comforter and all, hugging one of his pillows. He checks the time and realizes its already past 11PM, when did it get so late? You follow after him, seeing your son as comfortable as one can be, drooling all over Osamu’s pillow. “Getting him up right now will be a nightmare.” you sigh in defeat. Your tired muscles aching and a headache making its way out as well. “Stay for the night. You can take my bed and I’ll just take the sofa.” he grabs one of his pillows quietly, making sure not wake Seiji up and headed back to his living room, you following after him once more. “You sure? You should be as tired as I am.” but he shook his head, “Just stay, I’ll take him to school in the morning. I know you are very tired more mentally than anything. Sleep in, I know where his stuff is and he can get ready on his own.” you were so grateful right now, it was a tough day for you and you forgot what it felt to have someone backing you up in your bad days. He always did though, always there for you. 

You walked over to where he was getting his makeshift bed ready, wrapping your arms around his waist and placing a soft peck in between his shoulder blades, “Thank you, you’re the best.” giving him a little squeeze you let go of him and walk back into his room. You wished you could shower, but you were so tired, couldn’t even keep your eyes open any longer. You noticed that thankfully Osamu had done laundry that morning and some of it was still on his chair, so you stepped out of your grimy uniform and changed into one of his tees, they fitted like a dress on you anyways; then shifted the toddler slightly to remove the drenched pillow and occupy its place.

And just like that you had the best sleep you’ve had in ages.

──•~❉᯽❉~•──

The next morning Osamu took Seiji to school like he promised. Getting him ready for school was a painless process, he did mostly everything by himself and all he had to do was give him some breakfast and drive him there. Seiji was very well behaved and always listens to him. He asked him to please not wake you up, you had a difficult day and needed rest and he complied moving around the house like a ghost. They’re now at this point where words aren’t needed, they just look at each other and that’s it, an entire conversation with one look. It reminded him of the twin telepathy he has with Atsumu, but it was very different. Seiji actually listened to him.

He helped him out of the car and took his little hand in his before crouching down to hang the tiny backpack on his back, “Have a good day at school, Seiji. We’ll be waiting for you back at the shop.” Seiji nods, giving him a short hug and walked pass the gates. He was about to leave when a teacher stopped him, “Oh! Seiji’s dad! Is the first time we see you here, is always his mom. It’s a pleasure to meet you! Did your wife tell you about the play the kids will have at the end of next month? Seiji is very excited about it, make sure you both make some time if you can!” she didn’t even let him open his mouth, just blabbering things out and gone as fast as she came. It doesn’t surprise him to be confused as his dad, they do have the same face, but having heard someone call you ‘his wife’ was short circuiting his brain. He could feel heat creeping all the way from his neck to the tips of his ears and it lasts until he arrives back home. He peeks into his room, seeing you sleep with a peaceful looking smile plastered on your beautiful face. He notices you are wearing one of his shirts and he just can’t control his body, he takes his hoodie off, hangs it on the back of the chair and gets in bed with you, your immediate reaction being scooting closer to the warmth and laying your head on his chest, snuggling him to his death.

His wife, huh-

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Previous Chapter Masterlist Next Chapter

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fluff #miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya atsumu #fluff #angst #family fluff #Part 2 of a series #single parenting #slow burn #inarizaki #miya twins

[enigma-absolute]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! Get to know your mutuals and followers :)

…This is gonna make a total of 15 but oh BOY

This was mentioned in a previous ask before but singing a whole cover of ‘Rainbow Connection’ I did with friends joining me on the last third of it. It makes it extra special and I want to post it on here, but I’d rather ask the friend who I’d made this for, with posting permissions first.

Honestly? My silly little neopixel lightsaber I’ve (unwisely, in my mother’s opinion) bought at a recent con. It lights up, it makes noises, I can change the blade colour bc of the light, it’s so far everything I’ve wanted in a cheeky laser sword prop.

On a related note, my silly little sword collection! A LARP foam sword, a wooden katana, and even a steel replica of Sting, also from that same con over a few years!

Fashion! Me from 10 years ago being on this hellsite for the first year would never believe it, but growing and defining my own sense of style and aesthetics over time has not only been fun, but I *feel* happier too. I know what I like and what I don’t, and I’m still learning!

The very fact that I was blessed to go to the uni I did. Sure, the culture is different there compared to of course, my old high school and bible college, but I loved what I studied (more rather than less!) and I’m still in touch with people I’m honoured to call friends. To think some of those cool people live near or in the same city as me!

Not to be simple, but, music! I’ve been getting back into some of my favourite songs and remixes from The Living Tombstone as one point, (Long Time Friends you angy catharsis tune), but also listening to playlists I’ve curated for OCs and Stories and even shared songs with me and my friends over on Spotify has been fun!

Travel!!!! I didn’t know how much I’ve missed travel until my Singapore trip earlier this year - I missed boarding planes, taking off and landing, I missed going out to places like malls and cafes and food and friends outside of my own country. I missed the new sights to see and the good vibes to encounter when you look in the right places. And having my first taste of independent sightseeing at the botanical gardens felt like something new was set in stone.

As of recent, RP has been somewhat active between me and a couple buddies on discord. To the Chrumblr RP gang and Star Wars discord RP server: I love you and I'm grateful you allow me to bring plorbo from my brain into Situations with the characters you play!!!

Painting!!! I haven't touched it in a bit since I've been busy with other things, but I adore, ADORE watercolour and gouache painting. It brings me joy to mix colours and use my palettes to bring characters and situations to life, and I even have a whole sketchbook from 2022-2023 dedicated to just paintings. Sketchy paintings, refined ones - the only goal was to PAINT.

The crochet sunflowers I bought last year! I've got a tiny potted one on my study's windowsill with a broken Miles Morales Spidey keychain, and a longer simpler one in a glass bottle in my bedroom. I really wanna get more crochet flowers, but they were from this one random stall that set itself up like, twice overall at uni last year. That being said, I adore them.

From the same con I got my lightsaber on, I got lucky to buy a print poster of A New Hope from Lucasfilms artist Mark Raats direct. I'm not kidding, and we even had a chat and I did a little 'handy-dandy-notebook' portrait of him in line, even getting to airdrop that to him! Best bit, the poster was $30 on INCREDIBLY archival paper. I just need to get a frame for it...

Just recently, I'd gotten a haircut for the dry ends and long, thick fringe; and can I say??? I love my hairdresser? She's a really sweet Japanese lady who came from just outside Osaka and she's out here in my city doing the best and she once cut my fringe to my standards SO quickly than other hairdressers - I was stunned! I'm deeply grateful to have her work on my hair, and I could not thank her enough.

This is a bit silly somewhat to me, but I love the brown messenger bag I'd bought for myself end of last year as a treat to myself for finishing honours. Did the side strap holders snap twice? Yes. Do I care? no. I love this thing, it feels so *right* for adventure and it brings me so much joy.

Something that makes me smile if I glance at it in my study is my shelf of books. Not sketchbooks, not notebooks that have been filled (though I am proud of that too!), just proper books. From comics to 'Tales from the Loop' and cabin architecture and treehouses, and recently a couple Star Wars visual dictionaries from Pablo Hidalgo... I'm gonna need more space soon. (Shoutout to the copy of Farenheit 451 that legit made me scream and kick my feet because BRADBURY.)

Honestly? Just… friends. Online, real life - if I think about you too hard, I’ll cry. I’m blessed to have met friends online In Real Life (looking at you Swift and uni mates!), and blessed to have mailed and wrote and created silly little things to share my love with ‘em. Good are the ones that stick with you. 💙 Get loved, nerds.

#enni answers #seeking-elsewhither #lilliesandlight #pma #long post

[argumentl]

Osaka Noutei Tora no ana: fan report, Sep 23/24 2023 - Kaoru's talk event!

First I just need to say, I consider myself very lucky to have been able to attend and take part in this event!

I arrived at the venue at about 11:30pm, there were already a lot of fans hanging outside, and almost immediately a staff member of one restaurant opposite the venue building approached me and asked me in a shocked tone what on earth was going on with all these people here!😂 I told him it was an event by Kaoru from Dir en grey, and he just had no idea at all, asking, 'Is he Japanese??' 😆

Some fans were saying then that they saw Kaoru pulling up in a taxi and waving as he walked past them to go inside earlier...damn, I was too late!

After entering the building and lining up, I was eventually THIRD LAST into the venue! My ticket number was twice as high as last time..agh! It made me realise how close I was to not getting a ticket at all 😱 so I was grateful, but I was also stressing, because as my ticket number was so high, I was worried I wouldn't be able to see or hear anything from right at the back. In fact, I WAS right at the very back, there were no tables left and only one lonely chair left, but thank the gods, from that chair I had a clear view of Kaoru the whole time!!

Having said this, I did end up with a bit of trouble...in being handed a bunch of stuff as I entered (q&a paper, coaster, drink order token) and having nowhere to put anything, losing stuff, panicking, and then after that having to balance my drinks/food on my lap all night, but HEY, I could see and hear fine, so its all good!

Again, as far as I could tell, I seemed to be the only person there who was not Japanese. If any other foreign fans were there, let me know!!

The talk started with Fujieda and Takabayashi coming out for a quick greeting before calling Kaoru to join them. For some reason, Kaoru didn't immediately come out when he was called, and the audience ended up having to do encore style clapping before he actually came out 😆

He was wearing a black shirt, khaki shorts, a beanie, and glasses.

Kaoru and the managers got their drinks pretty quickly and Kaoru tried to raise a toast, but as us poor folk at the back still had no drinks, Kaoru decided to delay making a toast until we all had drinks (which, I must say, probably took another 30 mins or so). I'm so grateful he waited for us! 😭😭😭

To start, Kaoru talked a bit about how things had been for the Tokyo exhibition. That big collage board was also propped up on the stage next to them, and he explained a bit about it.

He also talked about his drawing of the Genesa which was on display in Tokyo. It was his original idea for how he wanted the guitar to look.

They then talked about how they came down to Osaka and brought all the art by car the previous day(Friday). When they got to the venue, the people who they had hired to help them set up everything didn't come, so they called the company and it turned out the company had mistaken the date, and thought they were due to set it up on Saturday instead! Thankfully, it was still all ready by the end of Friday, just a few hours later than expected. Kaoru said that while Takabayashi was on the phone seriously trying to sort out the problem, he himself went to the nearby convenience store, Mini-Stop, and bought ice cream. He really likes the ice cream at Mini-Stop 😆 This reminded them of how they occasionally had to go out to DIY stores for extra supplies during the Tokyo exhibition, and Takabayashi bought taiyaki while he was at one of the bigger stores. This made Fujieda jealous, as he loves taiyaki. Fujieda then told everyone that once during Tokyo run, Kaoru bought all the staff donuts from the store JACK IN THE DONUTS.

Kaoru said that he needed extra space to paint while he was creating all the art pieces so he rented a seperate apartment for the short term, just to paint in...but he heard a lot of noise there from people shouting in foreign languages next door (.....or something like that).

They talked a lot about the mangas they all like, as Kaoru had had some of his fave mangas with him on his desk at the exhibition. Fujieda said that as well as being a huge fan of Dragonball and Slamdunk, he is also a huge fan of Death Note. Kaoru found this kinda funny, and asked him if he'd seen the live action remake of Death Note, which Fujieda said he hadn't. This also reminded them of the recent One Piece remake, and then Kaoru remembered the Dragonball Z live action remake, saying it was astonishing...in a BAD way 😂 He even mentioned how Akira Toriyama had refused any association with it.

Speaking of watching things, Fujieda and a lot of the audience have been watching the new VIVANT TV drama recently, and they couldn't believe that Kaoru hasn't been watching it. (I haven't been watching it either, so this went over my head a bit!!😆)

Kaoru said if he could take any manga to a desert island, he would take Kochi Kame: Tokyo Beat Cops, as stuff like Dragonball etc is already all in his head.

During the first half of the event, a screen was lowered behind Kaoru and the managers, and they used it with a kind of overhead projector to showcase some of the new art. Kaoru used the exhibition pamphlet to project images of the art onto the screen behind, which meant we also got a lot of closeups of his hands and arms ☺️ There were also plenty of spoilers for me, since my ticket for the exhibition is for after Tora no ana 😆 (Again, I still feel lucky there, because I heard some women near me talking in the line that none of them had been able to secure tickets to the exhibition at all.)

Just like when writing music, Kaoru said he also ends up with a lot of duds/write offs when he is painting too.

He started having ideas about putting on an exhibition after the completion of Phalaris, but started the actual painting in January this year.

Fujieda and Takabayashi both revealed their fave pieces from the exhibition, and those works were then discussed in more depth.

It was around this time that a woman in my row at the back started bravely calling out comments and questions to Kaoru, which he was replying to! Im fairly sure I recognized her as one of Kaoru's more visible online fans. Oh, to have her courage!!

Ive totally forgotten how they got onto this topic, but at one poInt Fujieda started talking about how he used to regularly get brazillian waxes when he used to be a bandman. And these days he also waxes his nose hairs...you're welcome for the mental image!😂

It was well past 2am by the time the break was announced. Kaoru dissapeared back stage for around 15mins, and by this time I was also kinda drunk.

After getting restarted, there was a bit of casual talk for a while iirc, and then the Q&A section began.

Once again Im going to start this part of the report by saying my question and name were read out!! BUT with hilarious/tragic results!😂 My question was concerning Kaoru's old band Charm, since he had displayed the flyer in Tokyo, and I also asked if he could expand on his pre-Dir band history in general.

Fujieda was like, "Ok, this question is asking about Charm, what kind of band was it, and stuff? I can't even understand the rest of the question..", and then he promptly announced my name to Kaoru too! I'd be lying if said I didn't feel slightly dead from embarrassment at his last remark! 😂 But let me clear things up here! Remember I said earlier that I was practically last to get inside with no table? Well, I knew I had barely any time left to scribble down a question when I got in. I had mentally prepared the question in my head in advance, so I had to write it as fast as I could with one of those flimsy plastic clip/pencil things, resting on my knees, in a totally frantic state, and in VERY poor light...in my second language! 😂 My handwriting was certainly rushed and untidy, and knowing me, I probably made errors and missed out words etc in my haste. I was actually shocked that it was picked up at all, considering its lack of readability, and the fact that so so many of the other question sheets just got passed straight over. So after some consideration, Im taking this as win! 😂

As for Kaoru's answer, he basically said he has nothing to say about Charm, as if HE was embarrassed to talk about this topic! So yehy, I managed to embarrass us both!! 😆😆 Again, Im taking this postively, you only live once, and I will never forget this! 😂

As for the other questions, he was asked various things, includIng firstly which of the other members is most into exercise? To this he said probably none of them, since none of them are actually inherently sporty.

One question congratulated Kaoru on Hanshin winning the series (the whole audience applauded this), and asked for his alternative suggestion to diving off the Ebisu bridge in Dotonbori. (This practice has been banned due to people getting hurt/killed while jumping off the brige in celebration) Kaoru sarcasticly suggested diving off Tsutenkaku tower instead...the audience was audibly shocked 😂

Another fan asked about how the other Dir members refer to Takabayashi, since Kaoru always calls him Tōru. Apparently the other members call him Tōru too, except Shinya who refers to him as 'kimi'(you). But then again, Shinya refers to Fujieda as 'kimi' as well.

About half way through the Q&A Kaoru introduced some of the merch available at the exhibition, using the overhead projector to showcase it.

Another question asked the dates for the fan trip next year, and Kaoru confirmed it will be on the 16th and 17th of Feb. He already has the location decided and the venue booked, but he couldn't say any more for now. The only hint was that is was nothing like all the suggestions considered back in March. The official announcement will be made next month.

Someone also wrote something suggesting that Kyo and Kaoru do should a shared birthday event, because they didn't like having to choose bewteen Kyo and Kaoru's seperate events. Kaoru was reluctant to do this, because 'its him, right?' (i.e We all know what Kyo can be like when he feels like it...or not!) 😅

There were a few other questions about the usual things, food, baseball etc, and after the Q&A was finished, Kaoru declared he was gonna give away a signed nouteikarano2 poster to one audience member. He asked everyone who wanted to win it to stand up, and then started a game of rock paper scissors, with him against the audience. In the end one fan was remaining and she was called to the front where Kaoru handed her the poster! Obviously I lost against him, but I'm just happy to have played!!😄

As the event was coming to an end an audience member quietly ordered two rounds of tequila shots for Kaoru, and the managers! The were kinda surprised, but still drank them! (Tonnes of food and drink which the audience had been ordering for them was still left over though!)

To end Kaoru stated that the streets were still full of weirdos at this time in the morning (4:30am)..so to be careful (Like, its dangerous, but off you go anyway! 😂). Takabayashi confirmed that, yes, the clubs are still very much in operation at this time. So I avoided the backstreets on my walk back alone! Haha.

Much more was talked about in addition to the above of course, he talked the night away! Despite my blunders, I do feel very lucky to have been here, and it was joy to be drinking till morning with him! Next...the actual exhibition!😅

#dir en grey #薫 #report #tora no ana #nouteikarano2

[sktsnation]

Title: Warmth-seeker Summary: Kiyoomi is a warmth-seeker. Miya is built like a furnace. This is how he ends up getting a boyfriend out of it. Characters: Atsumu, Kiyoomi Word Count:  4,039

As a child, Kiyoomi has developed a habit of running up to his parents to hide in their jackets whenever he gets cold. Years later, he still carries the habit even after joining MSBY.

He has his own jacket, yes, but the moment a cold gust of wind would blow outside, he'd speed walk to the nearest teammate available and sticks himself behind them immediately. His cold hands would snake around their waist in search for warmth, and then they'll walk the rest of the way like that.

If he's in the gym and it suddenly gets too cold, he'll sit on the bench and scoot closer to the nearest teammate, lay his head on their lap, and curl his body. Kiyoomi will hide his face in the inner flap of their jacket and stay like that until he feels warm enough to function again.

The first time it happened, Bokuto cried on the spot, surprised that Kiyoomi would consider him comfortable enough to do this with.

The second time it happened, Meian held Kiyoomi's hands and told him all the stories about how his daughter did the same thing while they walk the rest of the way to the gym.

Once, on the bus, on their way home from a match outside of Osaka, Kiyoomi had gotten so cold that he ended up shivering. His skin felt cold as ice and he needed warmth, ASAP. He and Miya somehow ended up seating together, but they weren't close enough yet to be completely comfortable around each other, so he shot Miya a quick apology before pressing up against him.

Then, without any further warning, he laid his head on Miya's lap, ignoring the surprise squeak that had left the setter's mouth, and hid his face in the inner flap of his jacket.

“It's fucking cold.” Was all he offered as explanation.

Kiyoomi briefly wondered what cologne Miya used since he smelled good, then grunted a ‘thanks’ at whoever draped their extra jacket over him, and burrowed closer to Miya's stomach, hoping to God this won’t make the setter awkward around him because that would be sad.

What happened next came a bit of a surprise. Kiyoomi felt Miya's fingers brush through his hair, massaging his scalp. “Omi-kun, you're cold as hell.” Miya told him.

“I know—keep doing that.” It didn't come much of a surprise that he spent the remainder of the ride in deep sleep.

🔥

It doesn’t take long for everyone to be aware how much of a warmth-seeker Kiyoomi is. Heat packs has become a common sight in each member's bags, ready to be used if they see their beloved outside hitter rubbing his hands together. Even though it feels a bit embarrassing to be taken care of by Hinata (who is smaller and younger than he is), Kiyoomi finds that he doesn't care at all because Hinata knows how to take care of people—by virtue of his nature as an older brother... Kiyoomi's sure.

Miya ends up being the one he latches to the most, and with good reason too. The man is built like a whole ass furnace, and the setter damn well knows it. It becomes an unspoken rule between the team how Miya's the one who gets to seat next to him and Kiyoomi doesn't find it weird at all.

It starts getting weird once winter rolls.

Suddenly, Kiyoomi finds himself around Miya more than usual—and more than anybody else. Then, the weird becomes even weirder when no one from the team even bothers to point it out. It leads Kiyoomi to wonder how frequently he does this because it seems to be a common sight if no one isn't saying anything. Like now, the team is walking up to a nearby restaurant for their weekly dinners, and Miya just starts walking next to him.

Okay, everything seems normal so far. Kiyoomi resolves to look ahead and ignore the warm presence next to him, but even that proves difficult to do because Miya is suddenly grabbing one of his hands before slipping into the pocket of his jacket. Kiyoomi stops walking altogether and instead looks at the hand Miya firmly grasps in his hold—the one hidden inside his pocket.

“Yea, Omi-omi?” Miya asks him, and it's the way the question leaves Miya’s lips so causally while his thumb massages little circles in his palm that makes Kiyoomi feel all warm and weird again. Tingly. It's like that time when he woke up in the bus, only to find Miya's hand buried in his hair, while the other hand cradled his cheek.

“Omi??” Kiyoomi is pulled away from his thoughts the moment he feels Miya's free hand come up to cup his cheeks. Miya hisses. “Damn, Omi-kun, even your cheeks are cold!”

Kiyoomi swallows. There goes that weird feeling again.

“C'mon, Omi-kun,” Miya moves to resume walking, and it's the way Kiyoomi's still aware of his hand wrapped around his own that makes him think that they'll be linked like that for another three blocks until they arrive at the restaurant.

Does Kiyoomi let go? He doesn't, but he does perform a lot of mental gymnastics during the short walk, and by the time they've entered the restaurant, Kiyoomi's already reached a conclusion as to why he's feeling this way.

Is he happy with the conclusion he’s arrived at? He can't say for sure.

🔥

The restaurant is warm in a way that it's full of people enjoying a good meal over drinks. Kiyoomi orders something foregoes any ice-cold beverage. Instead, he accepts the house tea offered to them at the table.

All the while, he begins to feel more and more conscious about Miya, who just happened to take the seat directly beside him. Miya is attentive like all the other setters Kiyoomi had the honor of working with, but Kiyoomi feels like this level of attentiveness transcends his duties on the court.

(“Are you comfortable there, Omi??”

“Do you wanna switch places? I think ya can feel the AC from where you're sitting...”

“Just tell me if yer feeling cold, ‘kay? I have a hot pack here.”)

When Miya moves to grab his hands while their food is being served on the table, Kiyoomi thinks to himself: “No, my high school and college setters this accommodating to me.”.

When Miya bring him into the conversation, making sure he's part of the chatter, Kiyoomi wholeheartedly accepts the conclusion he's reached not too long ago. He also decides that he's not going home without getting an answer straight out of Miya.

Once dinner ends and it's time for everyone to return to their apartments, Kiyoomi makes his move.

Miya is right there next to him the moment they step out of the restaurant, bidding farewell to everyone who's out of their way. What’s funnier is how close their apartments are to each other, but that's a whole other thing.

This time, Kiyoomi wastes no time and grabs Miya's hand, linking their fingers together, before slipping their joined hands in the pocket of his jacket. Miya sputters in surprise, turning red in the face, but he makes no move to move his hand away.

“Miya,” Kiyoomi mumbles softly, still building up courage to say something. Miya seems to have sharp hearing since he turns his attention to him. “I realized something today...”

“Hmm? What izzit, Omi?”

“You're always there… and I feel weird about it,” Kiyoomi confesses. It's true, but it's not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, looking back, Kiyoomi finds that he quite likes it.

“Is this a test?” Miya asks him, voice tight as his eyes switches back and forth between Kiyoomi and the street. Kiyoomi shakes his head.

“No, just an observation. I just want you to know it's appreciated.” Miya smiles at him in that god-awful way when he's unsure how to answer a reporter's question. Kiyoomi doesn't like the expression that sits on Miya's face, so he tries to mimic what he did earlier. Kiyoomi uses his thumb to massage small circles in Miya's palm, hoping the small gesture offers at least a modicum of comfort. The frozen look on Miya's face has Kiyoomi worried for a moment, thinking he'd overstepped some sort of boundary, but then, he remembers that Miya doesn't know the meaning of boundaries, so he carries on.

The look in Miya's face on shifts into something else, and it's an expression Kiyoomi knows very well because that's the face he had been wearing earlier on their way to dinner.

“Omi?” Miya’s eyes turn to him. His brows are drawn together, a sign of him deep in thought. Kiyoomi knows—he's already woken up to that face a handful of times by now whenever he falls asleep at the bus. “I just gotta ask, coz it's been in my head for quite a while now, but—"

Wordlessly—mindlessly—Kiyoomi's free hand comes up to touch Miya's cheek, mimicking the blonde's actions from before. The sudden contact startles Miya, who tries to move away from his cold, cold hands.

Kiyoomi inwardly frowns at the injustice. How is it that Miya's cheeks are warm compared to his. The team had joked about Miya being built like a furnace, but it amazes Kiyoomi just how warm his skin can get. Miya tilts his head in another attempt to move his face away, but Kiyoomi's hand seems to have a mind of its own and instantly follows.

“Why are you so warm?” Kiyoomi asks out loud.

“Maybe if ya get yer hands away from my face, then it wouldn't be so warm!”

“Wait,” Kiyoomi squeezes Miya's hand and frowns. “Your hand is cold.”

“That's because—”

“Here, do this.” Kiyoomi pulls away and takes both of Miya's hands, pressing them against the setter's own cheeks. Maybe Miya's face can warm them up with how warm it is right now.

“Omi-kun!” Miya groans and tries to hide his face but to no avail. His own hands are pressed up against his face, which are also kept hostage in Kiyoomi's own. “This is embrassin'.” He murmurs, shoulders slumping. Giving up.

“You do this to me all the time and I haven't complained once,” Kiyoomi scoffs. "I do this once, and suddenly, you're acting all weird—”

A passing thought crosses him mind, and it gives him pause. Maybe now's a good time as any for Kiyoomi to get an answer out of Miya? “I—I hope it's a good kind of weird though…"

Miya's eyes narrow into thin slits, looking suspiciously at him. “And if I say it is?” Miya asks him, slowly, as if testing the waters. “What would ya say?”

The proverbial lightbulb goes off in Kiyoomi's mind. Is this Miya playing along? He wishes yes.

“I'd say,” Kiyoomi breathes, “we're on the same boat then.” His hand is still attached to Miya's cheeks, cradling the warmth in his palms. He briefly wonders how long they've been standing in the middle of the street like this, but he supposes he deserves a cliche every now and then.

Miya blinks his eyes at him, slowly, like he's processing a large batch of complex information that his brain is too frozen to do. All the while, Kiyoomi patiently waits. He waits until Miya makes the first move, but if he doesn't, then Kiyoomi isn't above letting his emotions do all the talking for them. Miya remains silent, but he hasn't torn himself away from his touch, which Kiyoomi takes as a good sign.

Instead, Kiyoomi uses the silence as an opportunity to brush Miya's warm cheeks.

A radiant warmth blooms in Kiyoomi's chest when he sees Miya's eyes grow wide at the gesture, a faint shade of red dusting his cheeks. White mist leaves Miya's lips as he exhales, and Kiyoomi surprisingly finds that he doesn't care that Miya essentially breathed on him. Not when Miya is currently looking at him like he had hung the moon and stars.

Kiyoomi isn't entirely sure if that even is the right translation to the expression on Miya's face, but he likes to think that it is.

“Sooner or later, you're going to have to talk to me.” Kiyoomi says. "You're warm and all, but my hands are starting to turn numb..." That startles Miya out of his trance. A fraction of Kiyoomi's conscience feels guilty about losing that look on his face, but his hands are legitimately starting to freeze, and the fact that snow is starting to fall doesn't help him in this scenario at all. A cold gust of wind blows through the streets, causing a shiver to run down the length of Kiyoomi's spine.

He's physically vibrating from the chill, which snaps Miya into action. “Okay, okay. Ummm... here—” Miya unwraps the scarf from his neck and coils them around Kiyoomi's own. Then, he makes quick work with unzipping his bag and pulls out the hot packs he keeps ready just for this very reason. He spends a short while heating it up, then passes it over to Kiyoomi, who's quick to keep it hidden in his hands.

“Sorry,” Miya grabs Kiyoomi's arms and drags him quickly down the street towards Kiyoomi's apartment. “Let's get out of the cold first—"

“Do you like me?” Kiyoomi asks him out of the blue. His face is red from the chill and his hands are gripping the hot pack with such force, it's a wonder that it hasn't broken.

“Omi-omi, let's get you home first—"

“Because I like you.” Kiyoomi cuts him before Miya manages to say anything else. "I don't know how or when that happened, but I just realized it today when you held my hand the entire time we walked to the restaurant, and I need to know if this is something I can place my hopes on."

“Wow—okay, we're talking about it while you're freezing.” Miya peeks at his face and bites his lip in reflex at the expectant look on Kiyoomi’s face. “Let's walk first, yeah? The faster I get ya home, the quicker you can interrogate me. I promise, Omi!”

Once Miya deposits Kiyoomi on his doorstep in record time, there's nothing left to do but ask him to step inside (because Kiyoomi refuses to close the door until this guy is inside with him). Kiyoomi slams the door shut and tosses his keys to Miya, asking him to hang in on the wall hook as he walks to his room to change into something comfortable—and maybe fish out his thickest blanket or whatever.

🔥

Minutes pass and Kiyoomi now finds himself sitting comfortably on his couch, safely wrapped in his own blanket, and cradling a warm cup of tea in his hands. Still, the look on his face remains the same as it had been earlier. Expectant.

There's an intensity behind his dark eyes that apparently seems to unnerve Miya because he looks like he's seconds away from fleeing or melting into a puddle. For some reason, Miya remains standing; never moving from his spot by the door (despite the time that has passed) and looking like a fish out of water.

There's a weird disconnect between the Miya now and the one Kiyoomi is familiar with. Miya used to walk around his apartment like he owns the place whenever he's invited over. That casualness seems to be gone today.

Kiyoomi pats the surface of the couch. "Come here."

Miya looks like he's unlearned everything there is to know about breathing and is on the verge of passing out. Kiyoomi doesn't understand; there is absolutely nothing for him to be worried about—well, at Kiyoomi's end.

He’d had laid out an extra blanket on the coffee table for Miya to take, as well as another cup of tea to drink. A light, fluttery feeling sparks within Kiyoomi chest as he watches Miya finally leaves his spot by the door and make himself comfortable on his couch next to him.

Miya keeps a respectable distance between them but given how the couch isn't meant for two grown-ass men with incredibly long legs, that distance doesn't amount to much at all. He's only arm's length away, so to say. Kiyoomi quickly decides that that distance is still too far from him. He likes this closeness Miya had bridged for the both of them.

Kiyoomi notes how Miya hasn’t picked up his tea, instead, he keeps his hands busy by playing with the edges of the blanket wrapped around him.

🔥

“You still haven't answered me yet...” Kiyoomi breaks the silence.

(Miya would have said something in reply, but his traitorous mind drifts away all on its own and instead informs him how unbearably cute Kiyoomi is right now—but of course, Kiyoomi is totally unaware of this thought seeing as it isn't his.)

“Miya?" Kiyoomi calls his name once again.

“Yeah!” Atsumu squeaks, and his face turning in an even darker shade of red.

Kiyoomi briefly wonders how incredibly warm his face must be right now, and his fingers involuntarily twitch against the surface of his cup with the impulse to feel them.

“You said we were gonna talk." Kiyoomi reminds him, his head tilting to the side innocently.

“Yeah, ya did. It's just... um, this is mortifyin'...” He confesses, followed by a forced out laugh. “I wasn't expectin' ya ta confess to me so out of the blue, yanno? I don't know what to say in return...”

Kiyoomi's tenses and his face falls. “Oh...”

Miya's face pinches in alarm and freaks out for a moment. “Wait! No—that's not... whatever yer thinkin'—no! I don't know what ya thought I meant but yer definitely wrong!”

Kiyoomi breathes out a sigh of relief. He wiggles his toes, pulling his knees closer to his chest, his whole body hidden beneath the warm blanket. He shifts his position, reclining his back against the armrest instead so that he could face Miya.

“Well, as long as you didn't think I was wrong for what I said back in the street... because I know well enough to know that what I said is true...” Kiyoomi pauses to take a sip from his cup, “I do like you.”

“Oh god,” Miya groans and hides under the blanket. “Oh my god—”

“Now that,” Kiyoomi points a finger at him “is a mixed reaction, and I don't know what to make of it. I'm holding out hope that it's your way of showcasing positive feedback because I'd like to attend next practice in a jolly good mood, please.”

Miya gives his answer moments later as if he had been mulling over whether he should answer at all. But given that he’s now hiding beneath his blankets, the words come out muffled that Kiyoomi couldn't make out anything from it at all. That, or maybe Miya's purposefully making it difficult for him.

Kiyoomi can't tell since he's hiding. He didn't peg Miya as someone bashful, but he doesn't mind being proven wrong.

“You're gonna have to say it again. I didn't understand anything.” Kiyoomi says honestly.

Seconds pass before Miya says anything else, and honestly, Kiyoomi is more surprised at the sudden volume than the actual reply because he had been blindly hoping that all of Miya's gestures towards him hadn't been done out of his bleeding and friendly setter-heart.

“I like ya too, idiot!”

“That's good to hear.”

The speed in which he replied must've been a beat too fast because Miya's now popping his head out of the blanket and staring at him with wide eyes.

“That reply seemed too reflexive to be genuine.” Miya childishly accuses.

Kiyoomi feels a vein tick in his forehead. “It's a reply nonetheless—and you called me an idiot after saying you like me back! Who does that?!”

“A nervous wreck like me!”

“But why?!"

“I don't know—” Miya's eyes bulge out when Kiyoomi lays his cup back down on the coffee table and reaches out towards him, forcibly tugging the blanket away from his body.

“Yo, what the hell?! Omi—” Kiyoomi succeeds in pulling it off and moves forward to pull at Miya's arm next.

“Wait—”

“Too slow.” Kiyoomi wraps a firm grip around Miya's wrist and hauls the blonde’s entire weight towards him. Miya's head accidentally collides with his chest, punching the air out of him.

“Again,” Kiyoomi wheezes, "Why?” He wraps one arm around Miya's waist while his free hand reaches for the discarded blanket to drape over themselves. Miya's steady weight feels comfortable against him, Kiyoomi notes. He also notes that the man in his arms is now murmuring to himself—which somehow plants a seed of doubt in Kiyoomi's chest. Seeing as Miya had just shifted into a more comfortable position and tucked his head beneath his chin instead of storming out of the apartment, Kiyoomi thinks he might've just overthought it.

“Just so you know...” Miya starts, “this is the weirdest confession I've ever received—and perhaps the bossiest one too.”

“Okay, I see why.” Kiyoomi agrees.

Looking back now, he did seem bossy, but it's only because he doesn't half-ass anything, including confessions to teammates. “But this is reciprocated, right? I didn't bully you into saying you like me back?”

“Oh yea, definitely.” Miya laughs. “Ya'd know very well if I didn't like ya back. Like, it'd have been very obvious from the get-go.”

“So, the whole holding my hand and sitting next to me in the bus when I'm cold?”

“A prime opportunity taken.” There is pride evident in Miya's tone when he answers the question. Then, he tenses, turning his head to face Kiyoomi. “That was... um, I hope yer aren't mad that I did it... I just wanted to be closer...”

“You'd know very well if I didn't like what you were doing.” Kiyoomi mimics.

“Oh, that's nice—” Kiyoomi brings up his free hand to run his fingers through Miya's hair. “That feels nice.”

“You always do that on the bus—I keep falling asleep, did you know?” Miya laughs again and Kiyoomi decides he quite likes the sound of it.

“I know. Didja know you complain in yer sleep when I stop massaging yer scalp? It's kinda cute.”

“I believe you. I think I've been conditioned to sleep the moment someone massages my head.” Kiyoomi stops and rests his hand over Miya's head. “My mom always did it to me when I was a child—even when I visit home, to be honest.”

“That's cute.”

“You've called me cute twice in the span of a minute.”

Miya scoffs. “Omi-kun, ya don't know how much I call ya cute in my head.” He pauses for a long while, catching Kiyoomi's attention.

“Miya?” Miya pulls away for a moment so they could talk face to face.

“This thing—well, I'm calling it a thing since I don't know what's next on the agenda after confessin' to ya, but—”

Kiyoomi might have an idea of where Miya's thoughts are heading. “Do you want to go on an exclusive date just for the both of us? And many more in the future?”

Miya's shoulders visibly sag in relief. “Oh, yes, please. I'd like that very much. Like, A LOT. Yes, let's do that very soon—like, soon! Hopefully, after practice next week? If yer up to it, that is?”

Needless to say, dates have become a frequent thing in the following weeks to come. Along with nosy teammates who eventually confess under threat of disembowelment that everything had been orchestrated so that Atsumu would be the closest to Kiyoomi every single time. Kiyoomi lets it slide since he managed to get a boyfriend out of it. Atsumu, on the other hand, uses this as an opportunity to rain volleyballs on the court, slamming down one monstrous serve after the other against the whole team during practice without repercussions.

Hot packs are still a thing. Atsumu resolves to continue bringing them along for Kiyoomi even though he has his own stock in his bag, but nothing warms Kiyoomi more than walking alongside Atsumu with their hands linked together and hidden in the pocket of his jacket.

#sakusa kiyoomi #miya atsumu #sakuatsu #skts #sakusa x atsumu #mine: fics

[stewblog]

JOHN WICK: CHAPTER 4

In the lead up to its release, I’d heard no small amount of seemingly-hyperbolic praise heaped up on John Wick: Chapter 4 by friends lucky enough to see advanced screenings. Surely, I reasoned, this is merely pre-release hype fed by the thrill that comes with seeing something highly anticipated before everyone else.

I was wrong.

Believe the hype. This really is an incredible feat of moviemaking. John Wick: Chapter 4 is the rarest of sequels. Most film franchises are barely running on fumes by their third film, much less a fourth. Director Chad Stahelski and star Keanu Reeves, however, have delivered a movie with such ferocious style and breathtaking intensity that I walked away wondering if I’d hallucinated half of it.

The John Wick series has been one of consistent escalation. The first film feels almost quaint now with its eponymous protagonist leaving a miles-long trail of bodies through New York City on his sympathetic quest for vengeance. Now fully drawn back into the neon-drenched underworld he so desperately fought to leave, Mr. Wick brings his unparalleled expertise across multiple continents as we are immersed even further into this alternate reality of assassins and shadowy rulers. Chapter 3 never found the right balance of world building and characters, resulting in more than a bit of cinematic wheel-spinning, a problem Chapter 4 solves by shifting the focus from John as a loner against all odds to him navigating a web of relationships old and new in an all-out battle royale for his ultimate emancipation

He’ll just have to go through the toughest, most ruthless opponents he’s ever faced, including a former best friend, to get there. What unfolds is something exhilarating.

Chapter 4 is as much a love letter to every twin-fisted action flick Chad Stahelski has ever loved as it is a modern classic of the form. This may be the fourth time in a row that Keanu Reeves has pumped boxes of bullets into endless waves of underworld goons and assassins, but it’s an experience that he and Stahelski have honed to a mirror sheen. Throw in the likes of Hiroyuki Sanada, Scott Adkins, Rina Samayawa, Shamier Anderson and the godlike Donnie Yen and the result is the most relentless action movie since Mad Max: Fury Road. Every time you think the movie has topped itself with inventive ways to beat, slice, stab, bludgeon, whip and otherwise maim both heroes and villains, Stahelski says, “Nah, hang on.” Save for the aforementioned Fury Road, this may well be the ultimate form of an action movie, delivering a perfect blend of Asian-influenced mayhem and Stahelski’s own decades of experience as a Hollywood stuntman.

It’s a visual knock-out, too. The complexity of Wick’s action successfully escalates with each film and Chapter 4 delivers a symphony of destruction to the point where it’s nigh impossible to pick a favorite. The siege of the Osaka Continental featuring what may be the single best use of nunchucks ever in a movie? John’s rampage through a dilapidated apartment building viewed largely from a top-down perspective? A fight in and around traffic at Paris’ Arc de Triomphe that has to be seen to be believed? Any one of these would be considered the high watermark of any action director’s career.

These scenes are electric thanks to the outstanding choreography and a level of visual panache that puts every other recent film of this kind to shame. Any given environment is stunning to look at thanks to phenomenal production design and art direction (as well as Dan Laustsen’s gorgeous cinematography). But what makes these scenes as impactful as they are is something far more fundamental than fancy moves and good photography: Stahelski lets you see what’s going on. You’d think something this basic would be a principle more widely embraced, but getting a Hollywood action movie where the lighting is intentional, the edits are minimal and the camera movement precise and steady is maddeningly rare. The John Wick films at large have embraced this fundamental approach, but Chapter 4 takes it to an echelon above where even its predecessors unquestionably succeeded.

What really makes this one sing is the cast, though. Stahelski has made a habit of putting fantastic character actors throughout this series, but the additions in Chapter 4 are, as with most everything else, a cut above. Even ignoring the fact that I could listen to Clancy Brown read the phone book, the gravitas he brings to a role like The Harbinger cannot be understated. It’s abundantly clear that Bill Skarsgaard was put on this Earth exclusively to play movie villains. And Hiroyuki Sanada reminds us why he’s been a mainstay of Asian cinema since the 1960s. But it’s Donnie Yen who completely steals the show as John Wick’s friend-turned-nemesis Caine. Yen has been a mega-star of Hong Kong cinema for years, but he’s either been woefully underutilized (a la Blade II) or been cast to play second-fiddle (XXX: The Return of Xander Cage) and never given a true chance to fully shine for audiences in the West. Stahelski lets Yen cut loose in a way that is sure to blow the minds of at least a few moviegoers, and that’s on top of him playing a character that feels every bit as sympathetic as Keanu’s.

And speaking of Keanu, I’d be remiss if I didn’t talk about his work in these films. Say what you will about the quality of his acting, I dare say no award-winning actor could bring the level of commitment to authenticity and the bottled fury Reeves lets loose across these four films. Keanu Reeves could play Forrest Gump, but Tom Hanks probably couldn’t go toe-to-toe with some of cinema’s greatest martial artists. The amount of pain and abuse John Wick endures is basically superhuman at this point, but Reeves manages to make the impact land and be felt because he believes in this character and the exaggerated world he inhabits.

It feels almost miraculous that this series exists, much less that it has flourished in such a way. In a landscape filled with movies based on pre-existing intellectual property and remakes, we now have four movies bursting with creativity and originality that also serve as love letters to the inspiring source material. If this is the last we see of John Wick, there’s no better way to send him off.

#john wick #keanu reeves #lance reddick #chad stahelski #scott adkins #donnie yen #hiroyuki sanada #action movies

[kyliafanfiction]

Improvements the FX show did over the books:

Cleaned up a few of the more cringe-worthy orientalist bits (though I think the book wasn't that bad by the standards of the time, YMMV)

Gave us all those scenes in Osaka castle when Blackthorne and Ishido weren't present. Makes it a bit easier to grasp what's going on.

Raised Mariko up to a full co-protagonist with Blackthorne and Toranaga

Something the FX Show did worse than the books, IMO

Downplayed Blackthorne's knowledge of things significantly, and frankly kind of made him a little too hapless and useless in places. Like, I get why they did it, but I think it went too far. Same with not letting him get that much Japanese fluency.

#Musings #FX Shogun #Shogun #Seriously that's my one major complaint #I also don't like that the FX show didn't have the sailor's dance bit but the book kind of did that away with in two paragraphs #so it's more a 1980 Shogun thing but I really liked it