#also don’t focus on me forcing the adopted au into things

[made-my-peace-with-all-the-bad]

That great expectations at the end really is every Ponyboy.

Trevi as canon Pony

Josh as adopted au Pony

JPC as older Pony

Emma as fem Pony

[walkawaytall]

Star Wars 2024 fic rec list

(in no particular order, but I do have a favorite, which will be mentioned at the end)

(also, I've tagged everyone I can find on Tumblr, but there are a few writers who don't have blogs listed on their AO3 profiles. I did my best.)

Non-Han/Leia fics:

quantum entanglement by smallblueandloud (@smallblueandloud) (An Organa family fic feat. some weird quirks of the Force)

The Benefits of Involvement (When it Doesn't Leave You Dead) by Jumiko (an AU in which a young Boba Fett sort of adopts a young Han Solo)

When the Dust Clears by Knitzkampf (this is technically tagged as a Han/Leia fic but it's very background to the main focus of the story)

Leia's Paradox by NotaBunny (also tagged Han/Leia, but it's more Leia introspection than anything else)

Han/Leia fics:

there's a war outside (but it can't get us here) by JuliaRose12 (@thesandwichincident)

Christmas on Coruscant by BookishBrigitta (@bookishbrigitta)

Tied in Knots by DiplomaticPrincess (@diplomaticprincess)

everybody wants to love you by spinninginfinity (@yoyomarules)

Don't Worry, My Dog is Friendly by CaptainCWB (@captaincwb)

Strange how my heart beats by lajulie (@lajulie24)

Count me in by OtterAndTerrier (@otterandterrier)

The Real Thing by kroland

Graduation by DiplomaticPrincess

Love Persevering by BookishBrigitta

A Good Hand is Hard to Find by CaptainCWB

A tactical omission by OtterAndTerrier

I'd Like to Make Myself Believe by BookishBrigitta

My personal favorite fic of 2024 (also a Han/Leia fic):

I Don’t Really Mind That It’s Starting to Get to Me by CaptainCWB

[gx-gameon]

Gotta ask how's Seto's relationship with the rest of Yugi's friends in this au? How'd the gang take the news that Seto and Yugi were dating? What about when they got engaged and married on the same day?

Okay so we are actually going to see a lot of this in the story itself.

So right now I’m editing all the rough drafts I posted here. I think I have three more to do and then it’s brand new content.

I think I’ll have somewhere between 2 to 3 more chapters from there. I have them all scripted out I just need to actually write them.

That will finish the first arc of this au. Jaden getting adopted and the afterlife adventure.

It will also be the end of the first book.

I think from there we will go into the second arc which will focus on two things. 1) Jaden and Atem adjusting to life 2) Yugi and Seto

The story will set up Gx season one. I think it will take place over Jaden’s first year or two in the family and then we will time skip to Gx.

I might do some one-shots with young Jaden and the DM crew in the time skip eventually (like Seto and Yugi’s proposal/wedding. But that could also be the last chapter so arc 2 I’m still scripting the second arc.

So we are going to have a whole little adventure dedicated to the two of them.

But it boils down to Seto realizing he has feelings for Yugi starts trying to so affection, as only Seto Kaiba can.

Jaden and Yugi are getting harassed by paparazzi? Now they had a security team following them ‘from a distance’

Things like that.

Problem: Yugi thinks this is Seto sending people to follow them to get him or Atem to duel.

He goes over to Seto to be like. ‘Hey we’re friends now. If you want something from me, like a duel, just ask me. Don’t send a goon squad to follow me. It’s freaking Jaden out.’

Seto hears two separate statements. ‘If you want me ask.’ And ‘security is scaring Jaden’ he will take care of that later.

He takes care of number 1 first and asks Yugi out. Yugi’s brain kinda breaks. Looking back he can see how everything Kaiba has been doing can be seen as either sweet or flirty in the most Seto Kaiba way ever. Because of this, and the fact that he’s not used to people actually flirting with him, made him totally miss the fact that he was being flirted with? Courted?

(All the people who flirt with him at tournaments actually want Atem or so he thinks. It’s hard sharing a body with someone for years because people outside their group don’t know. Yugi just naturally assumes that anyone that flirts with him really wants Atem, because Atem’s confident and wonderful. Yugi still has only kid insecurities.)

Seto also has no idea how to human when it comes to things like dating. He was raised to conquer businesses. He’s pretty sure your not suppose force people to date you (Mokuba said no) and your not suppose to pay them. So he has to get Yugi’s attention some other way. Mokuba is the point of reference and reason. “Do something nice for him. Talk to him. Show him you care.”

But he’s Seto, rich boy, Kaiba and he’s pursuing Yugi, if I’m near anything expensive I’ll have anxiety about breaking it, Muto. Yugi, for better and worse, isn’t interested in his wealth.

What is Yugi interested in?? Games and his friends.

He already hired Yugi and Atem to Kaiba Corp.

this is before he started pursuing Yugi. It was because he over heard them taking finances once. Its was going to be hard having Yugi, Atem, Solomon, and Jaden in one house.

He can’t just give them money, Yugi and Atem would refuse. He thinks Solomon might burn it to prove a point.

Yugi is going to college, Atem though is new to the world and still figuring out his place. Seto offered him a job at play testing games. Atem will probably beat all of them, but it will help show the flaws in the program, were things are to easy or to hard, and no one knows how to think outside the box quite like Yugi and Atem.

Atem is skeptical at first, thinking the job is just dueling Seto all day long. Which fun but no. But after hearing the actual job and pay. He takes it. (He talks with Yugi before doing so and they agree)

Later at the end of Yugi’s semester they have a final project to create a game. Their freshman so it’s not suppose to be that impressive. Yugi knocks it out of the park. Like a few tweaks and it’s ready to be sold.

He starts getting offers from other businesses. Pegasus, Zigfried, and others to higher him.

Seto isn’t losing his rival to another company. (And ya maybe the crush played a role but you can’t say Yugi didn’t earn his spot) so he highest Yugi as a game designer.

This makes there failed flirting worse and better. Because some co-workers think Seto only higher Yugi because he likes him. This gets swiftly shut down because of Yugi’s skill at his job, but there are still whispers of favoritism. They are also the most entertaining water cooler gossip of all time. Especially once they start dating. They go through all the proper channels to make dating an employee as ethically sound as possible. (They’re 19 and have known each other forever, it’s not surprising to outsiders. But Seto is still a CEO and held to certain standards when starting a relationship.) but all the other workers get a free show of watching their boss trying to flirt with his boyfriend.

It back to topic. They already have jobs so he can’t offer them that and they won’t take money without reason.

Yugi is interested in games and friends. So Seto will play games and ‘help’ his friends.

Problem. All these people are used to Seto only doing ‘nice’ thinks when he wants something (which he wants something but he’s genuinely not trying to trick them, he for once is trying to be nice) and they are not having it (Seto’s over here like I get it but let me grow as a person)

He’s trying to flirt with Yugi. A part of liking Yugi is being around his friends (preferably getting a long with them) everyone thinks Seto is finally joining the friend group but they are wary (some more than others, Joey and Tristian)

He’s someone who only knows how to show he cares through taking care of someone (you have a problem he removes it) (his love language is acts of service you can’t convince me otherwise wise)

unfortunately he’s not the best at telling people what he’s doing or asking them how they want help. He will learn but it’s ruff in the beginning.

Leading us back to. ‘Hey your goons are scaring my kid. Can you maybe call them off? If you want to duel just ask.’

‘Will you go out with me?’

They talk it out. Seto revealing all the nice things he’s done.

‘So is this why you hired me?’ ‘No I hired you because you’re competent. But I do like you because you’re competent.’

‘The goon squad?’ ‘Reporters weren’t leaving you and Jaden alone so I made them leave you alone.’

‘Joey’s sponsorship?’ ‘I wouldn’t have offered if he was going to embarrass me. He’s not on our level but he is, (big sigh) a good duelist. You value your friends so I value your friends. He earned his spot in the pro leagues. Money should be the thing that stops him from entering.’

This is also the time that Seto reveals he’s started planning duel academy because he wants Jadne to be able to have a ‘normal’ high school experience. Plus it’s a solid business move and the more he looked into it the better it was. He’s actually making 5 schools all around the world. It started out of love for Jaden but will now help so many kids.

And look Yugi always had a crush on Seto. But they have both grown and changed as people. To see Seto now verse the Seto he knew at the start of season 1. He’s grown a lot.

They talk out a lot of things. Mainly Seto’s instinctual need to fix his loved ones problems vs actually talking to them about what they want/what he’s doing.

The do end up on that date though.

Now everyone else’s reactions….. that’s a story for another time.

[fenikorg-talks]

ZoSan - Music and Lyrics AU

Musician!Zoro and Compositor!Sanji

ok, hear me out: musician!Zoro and compositor!Sanji, BUT they don’t know each other. 

See, Zoro is an outstanding musician, he plays any kind of instrument and even can play three at a time if the methods are favorable, but even tho he has an angelic voice, he can’t write lyrics to save his life. He sucks at lyrics so much that he takes Luffy’s advice (who doesn’t know shit about music but somehow still has an opinion on the matter) and goes complete sound experience artist. He has become even more popular than before now that he focuses on the chords and not on the lyrics. 

His manager, Nami (because of course is Nami), tries to persuade him to partner up with someone else, but Zoro insists on going solo. 

He receives an invitation to a collab with the Soul King and it’s kind of fun at first but their music just doesn’t match, and even tho they stay in contact for future collabs Zoro doesn’t think he can pair up with the lunatic again. He had just too many ideas in three seconds and comes up with the weirdest instrument combinations and even tho it always ends up sounding good, it sometimes is a mess and Zoro can’t focus on which instrument to start playing at which time or compass. 

In a social gathering Zoro doesn’t want to be at and Nami forces him to go, he meets the super rock star Franky and his (creepy looking) manager Robin, and after a chat, Zoro refuses yet another collab with the perverted big guy. But Nami butts in and has a lively conversation with Robin in which she tells her that there is this new compositor who keeps asking for a job and is being said he’s a great poet. Nami takes the initiative to search for the guy even when Zoro is reluctant of having a partner. 

Zoro didn’t expect the guy to accept the job in less than one phone call, because Nami demanded so many things at the same time, like: the lyrics have to be impartial so Zoro can sing it freely and not start rumors; Zoro has to have entire freedom in the music matter; the guy can’t write about something they didn’t accord beforehand; etc. 

Zoro isn’t convinced yet and asks for a test, and to his surprise the next day a long-nose black guy appears on their doorstep with the lyrics at hand. His name was Usopp and he was the compositor’s agent (actually his delivery guy) and he hadn’t read the lyrics either. Zoro, Nami, and Usopp read it together and it’s just awesome. Usopp goes in a proud mood since he has known the guy for a long time and hadn’t had any doubts about his talent (he had), Nami is awestruck at the magnificent writing, and Zoro is speechless. He doesn’t want to admit that the lyric is great, but also can’t take down a great compositor. Zoro asks Nami to request a meeting for the contract but the mysterious compositor refuses and requests to do their jobs through Usopp. Somehow this ended up with a friendship between Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper (Zoro’s adoptive younger brother). They just hang out bothering him in the studio doing nothing specific. 

Zoro stays in close contact with the compositor, asking for requests, giving advice in chords, and trying to connect with the guy, but he keeps avoiding each question directed to him instead of the songs. The lyrics he sends are still amazing and sentimental, and Zoro can do whatever he pleases with the music because it just sticks with everything. 

When he finally finished the recording for his new album, he thought he would finally get the compositor’s name, but instead, is hit by a pseudonym: Mr. Prince. And he’s confused because he was so sure he had heard the nickname before, but couldn’t remember where exactly. A very very long time ago, he heard that name, when he wasn’t so invested in music, when his parents and sister hadn’t died yet.

Zoro doesn’t hear of him in a long time, since Nami gave him a little vacation before going with the next job. Zoro goes to interviews and music channels to talk about his new album. Sometimes they would mention the compositor but return quickly to Zoro instead of asking more about the guy. 

Zoro is stressing himself out because he can’t take Mr. Prince off his head and everyone starts noticing. So Usopp invites him, Luffy, and Chopper to a boys’ outing to this new restaurant that just opened a few months ago but is said to have the best cuisine in the entire city. Zoro is somehow bored at the time, watching the others eat like starved men. He knows, he just tasted the food ok, so he knows. The rumors weren’t exaggerating, they could be even underestimating the restaurant’s food. At some point in the night, he hears the light sound of a piano. He remembered seeing a piano somewhere inside the gigantic restaurant. Without noticing he got up and followed the sound of the piano, recognizing little by little the piece being played. 

Zoro loses the sound about three times, and he’s praying that the music doesn’t stop. When he finally reached the piano, he finds a slick blond man playing it, with such concentration. The lounge is empty, and Zoro figures it was an event hall. The echo makes the melody even more mesmerizing, and Zoro can’t think straight anymore. The sensation of floating in midair ends abruptly when the blond notices him and stops playing. 

“Hello,” says the blond with a surprised look, “if your last name isn’t Don Quixote and it isn’t ten-thirty, I don’t think I was expecting anyone.”

Zoro stumbled in his words when he tried to apologize, and the blond laughed a little. Zoro caught himself blushing for unknown reasons and changed the subject as fast as he could. The blond introduced himself as Sanji Black, without any further explanation. If he wasn’t one of the Don Quixote family himself, what was he doing in here, then?

“That was one of KingOfHell’s,” Zoro didn’t want him to know who he was, at least for now, “y’know, the one that you just played.” 

“Ah! Yes! I’m a big fan of his! Do you know of him?” Sanji’s eyes just started to shine the moment they changed the subject to music. 

“Have you heard the new album? They say is amazing.” Zoro never was so egotistical, but for just this fan, he would like to see how fans see him. 

“Well, I haven’t. I don’t have enough money to buy it, and it’s eating me alive to not have it.” 

Sanji continued to blab about how fantastic the KingOfHell was and how extraordinaire of a person he was, and how excited Sanji was about the new album release because he would start to sing again, and whoa he really knew about Zoro’s career so much, it almost creeped him out. But it was average for a fan to be so invested in his favorite artist’s life nowadays, he really couldn’t find anything creepy about the guy, anyways. The clock turned ten-fifteen and Sanji pushed Zoro out of the event hall. He accompanied Zoro to his table and offered everyone a dessert from the house, and that’s how Zoro realizes he’s a waiter if not a chef of the place, and he immediately has a crush on the dude. Like, damn, who’s this gorgeous man who claims to be my biggest fan, knows how to cook splendidly, it’s the fucking sous-chef of the place and knows how to play the piano so goddamn good. And because Zoro has big money he starts going almost daily to the restaurant and sometimes asks Sanji to play a piece in the piano. He’s just lovestruck by now and Luffy and Nami can’t hold the laughter at his dumbness. They became very close friends but Zoro is still reluctant about telling him he’s the KingOfHell so Sanji is still very far away from getting intimate with him because he just knows Zoro’s hiding something. 

Zoro gets very conflicted with his two different lives, so he resorts to his sessions-like with his composer. The so-called Mr.Prince is a very understanding dude and listens to the whole story. He doesn’t answer right away, Zoro even though he didn’t know how to respond to his situation, then claimed he indeed was in a similar situation, but instead with a crush, it was with his family. For the first time, Zoro was the one listening and not talking, and it gave him a feeling of dizziness. Mr. Prince opened up to him, and that was a good sign they were getting closer. That would look good for future jobs, too. 

Not too long after talking things with Mr.Prince, he sends the lyric of the song they were working on, and it is just astounding, like always. But there is something along the lines that keeps Zoro on his nerves. Mr.Prince told him that it would sound so cool with a fast rhythm, to make people dance and jump and shout the song, but Zoro didn’t find it proper to give a party song such an angsty lyric. Maybe Mr. Prince was avoiding the subject, because he would know what his own song was talking about. He would know that a lyric with a double (could he say triple?)-meaning would be forgotten the moment the rhythm strikes. 

So Zoro denied the request and made his own music. The lyric of the song wasn’t just what Mr.Prince was feeling, about always being behind a screen, never having a chance to show the world what a great person he was, not having support from anyone, and being treated differently from everyone else because he couldn’t do anything more than use his hands in obnoxious hobbies. No, it was what Zoro felt, too. About his double life, about his crush on a normal almost poor guy (tho didn’t know why, he was the sous-chef after all), about his losses, about his career, and about the person he wanted to become. So no, Zoro wasn’t going to give it a poor, party dancer sound, but a nostalgic and unforgettable sound, that could move every single person alive. He didn’t care about the rumors anymore, as Nami warned him. He didn’t even care if the next album wasn’t related to it. He would just release a single, then. 

He took the piano, an instrument he hadn’t touched in decades but the memories were still so vivid, and composed at his heart's content. 

Even tho he wanted the melody to be amazing, to be melancholic, to be draining, to be heart-breaking, to be just perfect, he couldn’t find the right thing for the bridge. Like, everything else was literal fire, but the bridge? He didn’t know what to do with it. He wanted it to be the breaking point, where everyone started to cry his eyes out, but he couldn’t find the right fucking tone. So he goes to the All Blue, to visit his beloved friend and take a rest for a minute. If he was this exhausted, he couldn’t even start to imagine how tiring most have been to write such a poem. 

Sanji’s father, Zeff, tells Zoro that the blond is taking his break and is probably playing the piano again. Zoro goes to Sanji and finds him just as Zeff said. Zoro knows by now that he can’t interrupt the cook’s concentration. The melody he’s playing isn’t a melody Zoro has heard before, so he pays close attention to the blond’s hands. The melody is full of melancholy and sadness, and Zoro can’t help but run again against Mr.Prince’s song. And then Sanji slows down and the world slows down too, and it hits Zoro hard. Sanji tells him that is one of his diseased mother’s favorite songs, and she would play it to him every night. They talk a little about Zoro’s frustration with the song (being able to not give away the secret he was a musician of course) and how that was draining him a lot. Sanji tells him to have a break and invites Zoro on a date, and Zoro wouldn’t let down such an offer. Sanji led him around the city at night, guiding him into sweatshops and bakeries, talking about how good it would be to own a tiny restaurant, in a tiny town, making sweats and pastries for the ladies in town, help out some old hag, live in the nature, away from all worries and burdens of the world, just… stay in a corner of the world with his own rules. Such a poetic future, Zoro thought. Sanji looked so beautiful he wanted to kiss him. And when it hits midnight, some crazy random decides it is a great day to fly fireworks even tho it wasn’t an important date (Luffy, Sabo, and Ace), and Sanji’s eyes just shine in the night. That stargazing blue eyes, looking amused and happy, and just so full of love, and… a very nostalgic view. Zoro indeed though it was nostalgic. The nostalgic type that could bring him thirteen years back to the town he lived before with his sister. The nostalgic type that recreated an exact moment but at different times. The nostalgic type that made him realize something so precious to him he was shaking with happiness. All made sense now. 

He couldn’t say it to Sanji, yet. But he would, eventually. Zoro returns to his studio where Luffy is being sold by Nami for eating again in the control cabin, and finishes the partiture. He calls Usopp over, because he wants to pass on a message to Mr.Prince, and tells Nami he wants the radio on call. He tells the broadcasters that he is going to have a concert in three weeks (Nami convinced him because he wanted to do it the next Friday and that was impossible to assemble) and the money paid for the entrance will be donated to social care, but besides that, the entrance is free (in the sense it’s paid the same day when you get in). 

Everyone is shocked but of course, no one denies it to him. Nami thinks is character development and Luffy thinks is funny to see Zoro so weak for someone. Usopp is just confused at this point. 

In the concert he plays a lot of songs, some of his old songs, some of his new songs, and the crowd is just SO hyped and happy, and even Zoro feels good to see so many fans around him that love him and maybe it isn’t so bad to be a musician after all. Maybe I can interact with my fans more often like Nami said. In the middle of the concert, he reveals his true identity because he just got so bored of having different lives in different places and trying to get a balance but that balance was never going to happen. He feels free and starts having fun for the first time in a very long time. Luffy, Chopper, and Usopp are hyped and Nami is biting her nails. Turns out Zoro invited the Soul King and SuperFranky over, too, and now the three of them are having fun and oh wow social care gotta be rich by now. At the end of the night, almost midnight, the lights go slowly down, and there is just Zoro and a piano on the scenery. Nami doesn’t give a shit by now, expectant of what the bastard is doing. And so he goes, the first chords for his newest song. He talks on the mic while his hands follow an invisible music sheet.

“This is my newest single, so for obvious reasons, you haven’t heard of it yet. As you may know, I suck at writing lyrics, so I have a composer you always seem to forget about. He’s called Mr.Prince if anyone has heard of him before. He’s a very kind and comforting person. Has helped me in many ways I didn’t think I could be helped. And he brought me joy in my job. He composed this song, too, and it would be my pleasure to show it to you since is his best work so far.” 

He plays the song, with Mr.Prince’s lyrics and his music. Everyone’s in awe. Backstage, Chopper, Usopp, Franky, Brook, and Luffy are sharing a cry. When Zoro gets to the bridge he only thinks of Sanji. His smile, his voice, his laugh, his food, his kind heart… and in Mr.Prince, who sold his heart to Zoro in every piece of writing. The song finishes and the crowd explodes in cheers. Zoro takes the mic again, filled with what he hopes is the courage to what he’s about to say. 

“I have not enough words to thank all of you for being here. You don’t know how much it means to me seeing you here all gather up to see some sweaty bastard playing a lot of instruments at the same time or listen to great, yet weird music from two awesome, yet stupid rock stars. Or even just for the social care money, I don’t care what’s your reason to be here, I just wanna thank you. This isn’t just me, all the songs I sang tonight were written by my partner Mr.Prince, and I want everyone to know that. Even if he doesn’t, even when he tells me he doesn’t like fame and that he’s already busy with other things, I want you people to acknowledge his work. Because I do, and I don’t know where I would be without him.” He looks at the crowd, expectant, hopeful, nervous. “I know you’re here, Prince!” he finally shouts. “And I hope my words get to you, just as yours got to me. If there was ever a chance for us to meet, please, say something! I can’t write you a poem, I can’t compose you a song… just… let me give you a melody you can follow.” 

The crowd is silent, expectant of what will happen next. Zoro was waiting for Mr.Prince to appear, to give him some sign, to give him something. Apparently, the crowd was waiting for it, too. Zoro was losing hope when he heard someone cry the name of Mr.Prince. Little by little, the shout got louder and louder as people joined the call. Even with all the crowd calling his name, the composer never showed up. The concert was over with Zoro’s last thanks. He got down and was met with his teary friends. Chopper and Luffy jumped to hug him, and he could see Robin passing tissues to Franky. Nami was smiling behind her hands with blushed cheeks and red eyes. Everyone was happy for him and the amazing show he just gave, and proud at how much he had changed over a year. But Zoro was nowhere near the feeling of satisfaction. He couldn’t see his composer. He got silent and didn’t express any emotion towards his friends. When they asked and he told them, gripping his hands with so much force they almost bleed, Usopp smiled.

“Well…I wouldn’t lose hope, yet.” 

Then, Sanji appeared out of nowhere, trying to catch his breath with his messy hair and his messy clothes. He was a total mess. 

“You can’t just say those cringy lines in front of the entire world, Marimo!” He looked exhausted from all he had to run. “Do you even know how embarrassing was to look at you on the stage? Damn, I was dying inside, and I wasn’t even close to it! I’m pretty sure you left your fans hanging on a cliff tonight. Let me tell you, it was a shock when I found out you were the KingOfHell, Usopp never told me anything related before. Now that I know it’s you I feel embarrassed of all the times I blab about, well, you. And,” he laughed, “where do those cheesy ass lines come from? I never took you off the romantic type-” Zoro didn’t let him finish, as he rushed to him and hugged him. He stayed there, embracing the blond, waiting for him to say something else, or to push him away, or just do something. Sanji returned the hug and asked in a whisper only Zoro could hear. 

“How did you know? I tried hard so you couldn’t recognize me.” 

“Making me fall for you not only twice but three times in a row makes me wonder” he chuckled. 

“I bet that without me you had already gotten lost in who knows where.”

“Lucky me I have you.”

[mo-the-gremlin-dandelion]

Happy Coradrag AU - The Insurgent Serpent (Part 1)

Happy Coradrag AU Masterlist

Summary:

It seems that Dragon was not as careful as he thought he was. 

Dragon’s secrets are revealed and his plans foiled. He is forced to leave the marines early and Rosinante without an explanation.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Context:

Happy Coradrag AU - Meeting Rosinante

Happy Coradrag AU - Doomed Love Anyone?

Happy Coradrag AU - Akainu's Feelings

Garp adopted Kuzan and Dadan. DDK Childhood // DDK Childhood 2

Was planning on including this bit at the end of Doomed Love Anyone? but that part got away from me. So I decided to just make a new chapter.

Akainu, Borsalino, and Dragon are admirals.

Akainu is delusional, he can't handle Dragon's rejection (if confused, refer to Akainu's Feelings). He also thinks Ace is his kid.

Made up island: Needle Island - a mostly unused stopping point before entering the Grandline. Only the mostly secretive people would go there to restock.

Pop Pop Monkey = Garp’s grandpa

Dragon - 35 to 36 (Birthdate: October 5)

Rosinante - 20 (Birthdate: July 15)

Ace - 2 (Birthdate: January 1)

Dadan - 35 to 36 (Birthdate: August 30)

Kuzan - 30 to 31(Birthdate: September 21)

Akainu - 36 (Birthdate: August 16)

Borsalino - 37 to 38 (Birthdate: November 23)

Imagine the One Piece Narrator when you see this: {Words}

Italics = Thoughts

The Newspaper/Notes

-

{The Revolutionary Army was created by Monkey D. Dragon, son of the Marine Hero: Monkey D. Garp, after the death of the Pirate King: Gol D. Roger.

Dragon created it with a group of like minded individuals with the goal of dismantling the corrupt government that ruled over them. Their main focus being on the Celestial Dragons. The group was originally called the Freedom Fighters, but as Baterilla became bloodier, their operations became larger.

People, seeing the destruction or experiencing it themselves, joined at a rapid rate. 

Even more so after Ohara.

So they became the Revolutionary Army.

A very effective threat against the marines. It helped that their leader was an Admiral and thus was able to gather valuable information.

But Dragon was not planning to stay with the marines forever.

If he was caught, he wouldn’t be able to escape Marineford alive. So he was only planning to stay until the Revolutionary Army was stable enough to leave.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans.

In an impulsive move, Dragon had agreed to raise Ace, son of Gol D. Roger and Portgas D. Rouge. The reason the marines were causing all the suffering in the first place.

Dragon didn’t regret adopting Ace, he could never regret his little firefly.

But he did wish things were different.

So his plans changed, Dragon made new plans to leave after Ace’s third birthday.

It should be enough time to plan for the disappearance of two people rather than one.}

-

Mid September - Marineford

Every now and again, Dragon would tell the other revolutionaries to drop “evidence” in a certain location. 

This was so the marines thought they were following the correct trail to a hide out or a drop site. They were also instructed to always keep their faces covered and to use code names.

This had worked for the past couple of years, marines thinking they were finally getting a breakthrough only to find an empty warehouse or were just missing them. Meanwhile the revolutionaries were on a completely different island or had left weeks before the marines had even heard of the location.

Even CP0 couldn’t find anything.

Unfortunately, routine can make people too comfortable which in turn causes some slip ups.

A week after Dragon, Ace, Garp, and Kuzan left for Dawn Island; Sengoku called for a meeting with Kizaru and Akainu.

The three of them were in Sengoku’s office discussing what information they had on the Revolutionary Army.

Which wasn’t much.

“It’s almost been five fucking years and we still have nothing!” Sengoku yelled, banging his fist on his desk, “We don’t even know who the leader is!”

“We know his nickname though!” Kizaru pointed out, “They call him The Insurgent Serpent!”

“Yes, thank you Kizaru.” Sengoku sighed, pinching his nose, “But that’s not good enough. We need to find a base of theirs! Or hell, even a ship will do at this point!”

“I might have something.” Akainu spoke up, “A couple weeks ago I got word from a base in the East Blue about a suspicious ship lurking around.”

“Was there any markings on it?” Sengoku asked, intrigued at the possibility of gaining an edge.

“No, considering how careful they are, it's not surprising.” Akainu told him, “But the ship was as plain as can be and has been making frequent stops on Needle Island.”

“Needle Island?” Kizaru asked, confused, “I’ve never heard of that place before.”

“It’s just a small stopping point before the Grandline.” Sengoku explained, “It’s not very popular because Loguetown is a much better place to go to.”

“Which makes it great for criminals who don’t want to be noticed.” Akainu supplied.

“Oh, I get it.” Kizaru exclaimed, “You think it’s the revolutionaries.”

“Exactly.” Akainu said, “It’s an unmarked ship repeatedly coming and going from an island known for criminals.”

Sengoku contemplated it for a moment. Akainu did have a point and it couldn’t hurt to check it out. Even if it wasn’t the revolutionaries, they could still have the chance to remove other criminals from the populace.

“Hmm, we’ll check it out.” Sengoku said, stroking his beard, “Even if we don’t get the revolutionaries, it could be smugalars or something of the other.”

“Great, when can we contact Garp?” Akainu asked.

“Garp?” Sengoku asked, confused, “No, we won’t be contacting him or the other Monkey’s. They deserve to have their break uninterrupted.”

“If not Garp, then who?” Akainu asked, confused.

“Yeah, who will we be sending?” Kizaru asked, equally as confused as Akainu.

Everybody knew that the East Blue was Garp’s territory. The man always wanted to know what was going on there so he could be the one to deal with it. If he wasn’t there already dealing with the issue or the cause of it that is.

“Well since Akainu is the one who brought it up, he’ll be the one to deal with it.” Sengoku stated, surprising the both of them.

Akainu had not been allowed off base since Ohara. While the burning of the refugee ship didn’t cause him to lose his title, it did make Sengoku lose faith in the man. Especially since the Celestial Dragons were the ones stopping him from firing Akainu. They were quite happy that the civilians were killed.

“But it’ll take weeks for me to get there!” Akainu shouted, “They could be gone by then!”

“Then you should set sail as fast as possible.” Sengoku calmly told him while looking him in the eyes, “Besides, who knows when you’ll get another chance of getting off base.”

Akainu huffed and stood up, swiftly walking towards the door.

“Oh, and Akainu?” Sengoku asked, making him stop, “Try not to kill any civilians this time.”

Despite his calm and even tone, Akainu knew that Sengoku was threatening him.

“Yes sir.” Akainu gritted out, trying not to break the doorknob in his hand. He quickly gave a stiff salute and walked out, shutting the door behind him.

“You’re really not gonna call Garp?” Kizaru asked, turning back towards Sengoku.

“No, I will.” Sengoku replied, sitting down in his chair, “But I’ll let him enjoy some family time first.”

“If you’re gonna call him anyways, why send Akainu?” Kizaru questioned further, curious about the man’s intentions.

“Hopefully they’ll arrive at the same time and Akainu will learn a thing or two about real leadership.” Sengoku explained, “Garp may act like a fool most of the time, but he is actually quite tactful when he wants to be.”

“So… you want Akainu to learn from him?” Kizaru tried to clarify.

“Yes.” Sengoku told him, leaning back in his chair, “Hopefully by the end of it, Akainu will have learned how to complete a mission without civilians being murdered.”

Kizaru gulped at Sengoku’s brutal honesty.

Poor Sakazuki, Kizaru thought, He really is going to be a mad dog by the end of this.

-

Akainu’s Quarters - Marineford

Little did Sengoku know, but this was exactly the result Akainu was hoping for.

Akainu finally had the chance to expose Dragon as the Insurgent Serpent.

He had been suspicious of Dragon for a couple of years now. It just didn’t make sense to him how the revolutionaries could know when to attack a Celestial Dragon or raid a base.

The only explanation could be that a high ranking marine is either working with them or is their leader.

And Dragon fit the profile.

He was very outspoken about his distaste of the Celestial Dragons, not to mention the injustice of Baterilla and Ohara. The man was highly intelligent and a fantastic strategist. Not to mention that he was also incredibly secretive. 

There wasn’t anybody else in Marineford that matched.

Or maybe you think it’s him because he wants nothing to do with you, his subconscious told him, Just like you’re convinced Ace is yours.

Akainu had never believed the story Dragon told everyone else. That Dragon had slept with someone other than him and that the father was a nameless nobody nowhere to be found.

Or maybe you can’t handle the fact that it meant nothing to him, the little voice spoke up again, Who's to say he didn’t do the same with someone else that didn’t matter?

Akainu refused to believe he wasn’t important to Dragon. He had always thought that Dragon was someone to be admired and it took a long time for him to admit to himself that he did indeed love the man.

He got even more furious when he saw Sengoku’s brat getting close with Dragon and their his child. 

That brat can’t even walk without tripping and Dragon thinks he’s responsible enough to watch Ace!? Akainu had thought when he found out, Why didn’t he ask me!? I’m probably the kid's father!

But unfortunately for Akainu, Dragon thought he was nothing more than a mistake and a monster to avoid.

So if Akainu couldn’t have him, then he’d arrest him.

-

Late September - Monkey D. Residence - Dawn Island

“Auntie Dadan!” Ace yelled, running up the pathway to Dadan.

“Firefly!” Dadan exclaimed, catching the toddler and swinging him around, “Oh my! Did you get taller?”

“Yeah! Three inches!” Ace told her while holding up three fingers, “I can reach the doorknob now!”

“Wow!” Dadan said, “You’re such a big boy! Soon you’ll be just as tall as the rest of us. ”

This made Ace giggle and bashfully tuck his face into her neck. He started fiddling with her necklace as they watched the others come up the hill.

Dadan had come down from her house in the mountains to clean up the Monkey D. residence before they arrived. 

The house sat on a hill overlooking Windmill Village and backed up to the forest. There was a garden and a treehouse in the newly fenced backyard. The fence had to be put in because Ace was a runner.

So were Dragon, Dadan, and Kuzan, but Garp had actively encouraged them to fight the wildlife so he didn’t feel the need to put in a fence before.

The house itself was a little weathered, but well loved. Garp’s grandparents had built it themselves when they got married and it had housed the past five generations of their family. There was a master bedroom on the ground floor, four bedrooms on the second, and a converted attic room. 

The house hadn’t been consistently used since Kuzan joined the marines. Dadan preferred to live away from the village in Pop Pop Monkey’s old hunting lodge. It allowed Dadan and her bandits to have the privacy they needed to run their business and steal from the rich folk in the Goa Kingdom.

But she also made sure to come every now and then to run maintenance on the house.

Or clean it up before the rest of the family comes back.

“Did you repaint the siding?” Garp gruffly asked, while setting down his luggage.

“Gave it a fresh coat last week.” Dadan told him, shifting a wiggling Ace to her hip, “I also fixed the hole in the attic.”

“Looks good.” Dragon told her, “Did you find anything dead in the gutters this time?”

“Surprisingly no.” Dadan replied, “There was a nest or two, but nothing disgusting.”

“Maybe those rats with wings finally learned to stay away.” Garp huffed, crossing his arms.

Garp didn’t mind birds, but they sure did make a mess of the house in the spring. And much like the other wildlife on Dawn Island, the seagulls weren’t normal. They went everywhere and got into everything. Often falling down chimneys and smashing into windows.

Maybe Garp had a point when he called them rats with wings.

“At least there won’t be any chirping at 6 o’clock in the morning.” Kuzan huffed, flopping facefirst onto the couch.

Ace then immediately jumped on his back and started using him as a trampoline, laughing like a maniac as he did so. 

Kuzan would have pushed him off if he wasn’t already snoring.

“Okay, how about we stop abusing Uncle Kuzan and put away our stuff.” Dragon suggested as he grabbed Ace, “We’ll be back down in a minute.”

“Ah take your time.” Garp told him, waving him off.

“Relax a bit, Dragon.” Dadan laughed, “There’s no rush.”

“Fine.” Dragon sighed, before turning to go up the stairs.

-

The stairs were to the right of the entrance and opened onto a landing. Connected to it was a long hallway with five doors and two staircases at the end of it. There were three doors on the right and two on the left. As for the staircases, one led back downstairs to the kitchen and the other led up stairs to the attic/guest/rec room.

Emphasis on the rec.

Dragon’s room was the first door on the right. The windows looked out onto the front lawn, farmland, and Windmill Village in the distance. It wasn’t a very big room, but it also wasn’t very small either. 

It was cozy with its wood paneling and green accents. 

God I’m going to miss this, Dragon thought, thinking of when he’ll be leaving the marines.

Before he could get anymore melancholy, Ace started wiggling to get down. Dragon gently set him down on the bed and watched as Ace started to jump around.

“Look! I’m a bunny!” Ace yelled, waving his little arms around.

“Oh yes, look at you go.” Dragon laughed, setting their bags to the side and closing the door. 

Dragon sat down on the bed and quickly took off his shoes. Then he turned around and caught Ace to help him do the same.

“Hey! I was jumping!” Ace whined as Dragon took off his shoes.

“I know, but how about we take a nap instead.” Dragon gently suggested, “That way supper will come faster.”

“Oooh, okay!” Ace easily agreed. The toddler then squirmed off his lap and over to the pillows. 

Dragon laughed as he watched his son burrow himself under the blanket. He got up and shut the curtains before climbing into bed himself.

I’m going to miss this when he learns the concept of time, Dragon thought while tucking Ace under his chin.

They both fell into a deep sleep as the afternoon sun reached its peak.

-

Late September - Marine Docks - Marineford

Back at Marineford, Akainu was setting off for Needle Island.

He had been planning this trip for two weeks. Starting the very minute after Sengoku assigned him. 

He was not going to fail this assignment. He would find something. Whether it was files, ship debris , or an enemy soldier in a bodybag.

Akainu was not going to leave empty handed. He was known to be a determined man. 

He also wasn’t stupid.

Akainu knew that Sengoku would still be calling Garp. The man would go feral if he knew someone else was in his territory.

But if he could prove that Dragon is the Insurgent Serpent, Garp wouldn’t be a problem anymore. 

He would either have to arrest his son or die trying to save him.

Akainu was honestly hoping for the second option. 

With Garp and Dragon out of commission, who would take care of Ace?

His lazy uncle? His petty criminal aunt? An old man and his walking safety hazard of a son?

None of them would be viable options. The most obvious answer would be his other father of course.

-

From afar, Sengoku and Rosinante watched as Akainu boarded his ship. 

“Do you really think this is a good idea?” Rosinante asked, turning towards his father.

“Garp will keep him in check.” Sengoku sighed, “Everything should be fine.”

Although, when he said that, it sounded like he was trying to make himself believe it.

“I’m sorry about yesterday.” Rosinante said, looking down at his broken arm, “If only I didn’t slip.”

Sengoku had planned to send his son along as an extra babysitter, but Rosinante had an unfortunate time on the stairs and broke his left arm. This resulted in him not being able to go on the mission.

“You have nothing to apologise for.” Sengoku firmly told him, “Never apologise for what you can’t control.”

They both knew he was referring to the irreparable damage caused by the torture and the malnourishment in his youth.

Sengoku quickly pulled his son into a hug to reassure him as they watched Akainu’s ship pull out of the harbor.

-

{Most of the time it is our own actions that guide us. Every choice we make causes a reaction. Even the smallest choice like the colour of a shirt can lead to tidal waves.

But every once in a while fate likes to pull a fast one.

Almost like marionettes, we are pulled into situations we never imagined we’d be in.

This often leaves us with thoughts of: What if?

In Garp’s case: What would have happened if he never agreed to Roger’s terms? What if he found Rogue earlier? 

In Dragon’s case: What if he left the marines early? What would have happened to Ace? Would he still have met Rosinante?

In Akainu’s case: Would Dragon be with him if he wasn’t such a lap dog?

In Rosinante’s case: What would have happened if he went with Doflamingo? Would still be the person he is today? What about yesterday with the accident on the stairs; would his presence on this mission cause less heartbreak?

We unfortunately can’t see what’s ahead. So we have to make the best decisions we can make in the heat of the moment and accept the results.

Whether it ends in joy or heartbreak.}

-

I might actually build the Monkey D. house in the Sims 4. Mostly for my benefit as I almost forgot which side I put Dragon's room on.😂

[sibillascribbles08]

Writing some silly to banish it from my mind so I can focus again on important stuff

Blah blah blah self indulgent AU hi

If you are coming into this blind though, Donnie's full name in this AU is Belladonna and he also uses both he and she pronouns yippee

“Donnie, you’re gonna get in so much trouble.”

“Then stop following me.” Belladonna turned as she snapped at her best friend and self proclaimed cousin.

Leo just kept smiling, always so wide it made the red markings around his eyes curl. “Nah, I wanna see how bad this goes. Sides, you’re gonna need some portal tech for an emergency exit, right?”

Belladonna grumbled. He would admit no such thing, but Leo’s portals would be appreciated.

And also he just didn’t want to break into Draxum’s home by himself. 

Her mother would flip a lid if she found out. Holly Blue rarely made strict rules. Over time, Belladonna proved she was responsible enough to go to the surface, run the storefront, and even explore the city by himself.

But going near Draxum? Even looking in his general direction? Absolutely not.

That and his mother still wouldn’t let him smoke.

Whatever. The chewing stick in his mouth made a decent substitute. He kept rolling it between his teeth as they walked. He could fly, but then Leo would demand a lift and carrying him was a pain in the ass. 

“So… remind me why we’re going in here again?” Leo refused to stop speaking, even as they approached the excessively long bridge that led up to the house, or palace, or whatever it was. 

Belladonna had seen it more than once, to scout the area, but she hadn’t been bold enough to break in until now.

“I want answers.” Belladonna rested the end of his spear on the ground. “If I’m a mutant like my mother is, there’s a good chance he’s the one who made me.”

“But you don’t know that you are.” Leo rested his hands behind his head. “I mean, if you are, then I could be too, right?”

“You might be. You’re adopted too, remember?”

Leo shrugged. 

“Whatever, either way we can know for sure if we go in there.” Belladonna pointed to it with his spear. “If this Draxum is really a scientist as he claims, then he’ll have records, and we can—”

“Incoming.”

“Huh?”

Leo jerked him back and around a nearby wall. Belladonna still had no idea what he was talking about until the growling reached his ears. He stayed low and peered around their hiding spot.

Two heavily armored yōkai sped past on the backs of massive dogs. One of them had some kind of glowing bubble in his hand, but the contents weren’t visible. The pair headed straight for Draxum’s castle. 

With the coast clear, Belladonna re-emerged, spear resting on her shoulder. 

“Looks like Draxum’s got guests.” Leo stood next to him and frowned. “Maybe we should try later?” 

“Don’t be a coward. That’ll just mean he’ll be distracted.” He huffed. “Come on, let’s—”

“Incoming.”

“What—”

Belladonna only heard the faint scream when it was right above her. A beat later something crashed into him, sending him directly into the ground. 

“Whoa!” A female voice shouted. “Great, if this is Wonderland it’s a whole lot crazier than I— Ahh!” 

Whoever it was, she shoved her hand against Belladonna’s head. 

“Hi.” Leo said, tone as cheerful as ever. “Whoa, are you a human?”

“I, yes?” The stranger answered. “Wait, there’s more turtle guys out there? Is this a secret city of turtle men?”

Belladonna forced her head up. “No! Now get off me.”

“Oh, shoot, sorry.”

With the weight finally gone, Belladonna got to her feet. He turned to look at the stranger, and as Leo guessed it was indeed a human. Her eyes gave it away. From what he could guess about humans too, she must be around their age.

“What do you mean more turtle guys?” Leo’s grin was back. “Are there turtle guys around humans these days? Why didn’t you tell me about that, Donnie?”

“Because I haven’t seen any.” Belladonna crossed her arms. “I only interact with a few people on the surface.”

Leo snickered and leaned toward the girl. “Yeah, don’t worry if Donnie sounds rude, by the way. I know he likes humans. He has a major crush on one.” 

“Shut it, Leo! Jase and I are just friends!”

“Okay, hang on.” The girl held up her hands. “This is all super entertaining, but I was kind of on a mission here. Also… who are you?”

“I’m Leo.” His cousin pointed to himself. “And this is Belladonna, but I just call her Donnie.”

“Oh, he and she, huh?” The girl smiled at Donnie. “Rad, well I’m April. And yeah, human. I was trying to save a weird little dog thingy but these huge guys in armor stole it.”

“We just saw those guys.” Leo pointed to the palace. “They were headed that way.” 

“Great, thanks, I’ll get out of your way.” 

April was about to take off when Belladonna snapped out a hand and grabbed hers.

“Hold it,” he said. “My cousin and I were about to infiltrate Draxum’s lair ourselves. Allow us to assist.”

April blinked at him a couple of times. “For real? You don’t have to.” 

“Told you.” Leo hummed. “Donnie’s a big softie.” 

“We share similar goals, and it may be safer for all of us.” Belladonna shrugged. “We’re going in there either way, if we assist you or not.”

“Well, sure, let’s go.” April pumped her fists. “It sure beats wandering around by myself. Usually I have the boys with me, the other turtle guys, but they kinda got left behind when I fell down here.” 

Belladonna followed her toward the palace. “You’re friends with yōkai?”

“Yōkai? They always said they were mutants.” April tapped her chin. “Are you guys yōkai?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out.” Leo said. “Donnie and I are both adopted, so we don’t even know where we came from.” 

“And you’re cousins?”

“Only sort of.” Belladonna rolled her eyes. “Our parents are good friends and we grew up together.”

“But we’re both turtles.” Leo leaned around April as he smiled. “Crazy coincidence right?”

The human stared at him, and then at Donnie. “Are you sure it’s a coincidence?” 

Well, now knowing there were two mutant turtles living on the surface…

Belladonna decided it probably wasn’t a coincidence.

[deficd]

GET TO KNOW THE MUN.

respond to the prompts out of character!

what made you pick up the current muse(s) you have? oh man. uh. i guess, following my url's general meaning, i choose to write muses on here that have defied their fates/expectations in some shape or form. this is true for more of my older muses on here, as i've definitely added some recently where i have to kinda twist that a bit. aside from that, i really just write muses that i can connect with on some level. my apparent calling is sad men who are prone to violence and are also incredibly sad/lonely. the mains i have floating in my head are usually there because it's the current media i'm consuming (i.e. star wars: the old republic). i could write long metas on why i adore all of my muses though. c':

is there anything you don’t like to write? uhh, you know. i'm actually pretty open to most things. i need some sort of action going on, regardless of the type, to keep interested i suppose. like, if there's a lot of conversation, i tend to get stuck. that's just because i struggle with it and i don't want to bore my partner, though. aside from that, pretty much any genre you throw at me, i'll be interested in writing.

is there anything you really enjoy writing? I'm a sucker for redemption au's, even if it takes thirty threads to get there. i enjoy writing the aftermath of a character's worst arc, and all of the guilt, pain, and sorrow that comes with it. so do i want to write arcann's redemption? yes. do i want to write about nihilus somehow healing from being a literal wound in the force? yes. (or even, writing who he was before malachor.) ragnar going back to being a farmer? please. all of it, yes. aside from that, i really, really enjoy hurt/comfort, violent/gore threads, general sci-fi adventure, and general fantasy adventure (the campfires, the fights, the enemies in between destinations, etc.)

how do you come up with headcanons?  it's kind of a mix between being inspired by outside sources, such as media, music, mututals, and things that pop into my head after hyperfixating about a muse for three straight hours or something. i do adopt headcanons/partial headcanons from other people, but like sparingly and if it's appropriate/i know them/have asked. most of the time i really just get hit in the face with them though.

do you write in silence or do you play music? i am someone that requires music to write. i need to drown out distractions however i can. i really struggle with being easily distracted (getting tested for adhd soon lol) because i can very easily lose a thought before i'm able to write it down. i find that with music i can focus better, and i have playlists that help with whatever mood i'm going for in the reply.

do you plan your replies or wing them? i usually just sort of write what comes to mind first and then, if i have questions about something, i'll either approach the other mun or write things in the tags. sort of referring to the previous question, i try to write my ideas down as soon as i see a reply, or i'll be prone to forgetting them.

do you enjoy shipping? yes, 1000% yes. i love all sorts of relationships, not only the romantic ones. i don't really get to write about platonic/friendships too often, but i really enjoy the times i can. that said, re: romantic ships, i'm usually on board if there's chemistry between muses. i also encourage other muns to approach me if they think they might want to ship because chances are, i'm already on board.

what’s your alias/name?  Lee

age?  old

birthday?  December 25th

favorite color?  silver, purple, black

favorite song?  i... don't think i can choose? there are all sorts of songs that hit me in the right way. i can tell you a song i'm listening to on repeat right now is The Wind Weeps Eleanor by American Murder Song.

last movie you watched?  Hagazussa: A Heathen's Curse, but I hope to go see Dune 2 this week.

last show you watched?  just started Shōgun and it's wonderful.

last song you listened to?  Dwamn by Tech N9ne 🫣 

favorite food?  fry bread! or a step further: navajo tacos.

favorite season?  winter

do you have a tumblr best friend? um i think i'm close to a few people on here, but the only one i know i can tag for sure is @vuulpecula starbuck has put up with my nonsense on here for years and somehow still talks to me lmfao we have the greatest and the worst ships and honestly i am always always always excited to write with her❤️❤️❤️

and idk if i should tag u because this is an rp meme and this is one of my rp blogs but @oolathurman is my other bestie and i've known and adored them for literal years so. yeah sflkjdslf❤️❤️❤️

TAGGED BY @valorums thank you<3

TAGGING @vuulpecula @riiese @hcxcd @fasciinating @juramentum @mistrdctr / @respondedinkind @auroradicit @red-white-and-trauma @blue-eyed-banshee @helreginn @astridnorddottir @brittlefcrged and YOU!

[steele-soulmate]

Princess of Candy Coated Lies, Modern Royalty AU- King Peter Steele & Single Mother OFC, Soulmate AU

Chapter 10

SUMMARY: Single mother Molly Anne Harper does the best she can do, given her circumstances- since she broke up with her ex-boyfriend by sending him to jail, she’s been struggling to be the best mother to twin daughters while working barely minimum waged jobs. But when she meets her soulmate- King Peter Thomas Ratajczyk of Brooklyn- she quickly finds herself falling heads over heels in love with the guarded, battle damaged ruler. Likewise, Peter finds himself with a family of a women and two little girls who call him daddy. But what happens when their father gets out from behind bars and starts to cause mayhem?

A Soulmate AU where you never know what the first words your soulmate says to you until they say it

CHAPTER WARNINGS: mentions of illicit drugs (nothing graphic) mentions of forced prostitution (nothing graphic)

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORESS: This fic is dedicated to SkullWoggle on AO3 and @rock-a-noodle on Tumblr.

WORD COUNT: 1259

The next morning, the king was shaving his face clean while I took a steaming hot shower, using the high end shampoo and conditioner that Princess Cathy had thoughtfully bought for me. I swiped my blue washcloth over my arms, having squirted a dallop of the king’s musky pine trees and autumnwood scented body wash onto the terrycloth square, knowing that he wouldn’t mind if I smelled like him.

“Hey sweetheart, I sent my lawyer an email last night, asking him to get started on the paperwork for adopting the twins,” the king told me, flicked his razer into the sink, tapping off the excess shaving cream before resuming his current task. “I also sent an email to my friend, who a chaplain priest who can perform ordained services and asked him if he can join the both of us in holy matrimony. I am currently waiting to hear back from the both of them.”

An excited chill raced down my spine at the thought that the king couldn’t wait to call the twins and I his.

“I have no doubt in my mind that the girls would love to officially call you their father,” I murmured as I stood under the showerhead, rinsing the conditioner from my curly red hair.

“Is the girls’ father on their birth certificate?” he wondered as he washed his now clean shaven face with water. “My lawyer will need to know in order to pull the right paperwork.”

“No, I did not put Henry down on the birth certificate,” I answered him, turning the water off before wringing my hair of water. “I do not want anything to do with him. He is not a good man.”

“I’m not arguing with you on whether or now he is a good man or a bad man,” he validated me, handing me my towel before turning to give me privacy. “With Henry not on the birth certificate, that should make thing significantly easier.”

“Good,” I sighed, stepping out of the shower, leaving the water on to rinse out the tub. “If Henry should ever find out that he is a father, he will petition the courts for fifty-fifty custody, and then he would let his little druggie friends use them for a pretty price to pay off his debts. That’s what he did with me.”

“Sweetheart…” I didn’t have to look at the king to see the horrified rage in his dazzling eyes.

“Yeah, whenever he had a debt that he just didn’t want to pay, he would just offer me up to settle the score.” I didn’t look up.

“Jesus…” wheezed the king, handing me his wide tooth comb, which I began using in place of my improvised finger combs. “Sweetheart, you don’t need to have him living in your mind rent free. Let’s focus on more pleasant things now, yeah?”

“Like what?” I wondered, flipping my hair back behind my shoulder, refashioning the towel tied underneath my armpits and stepped up to the mirror to rub moisturizer into my face, neck and collarbone.

“Do you want kids?” I froze. “With me, I mean.”

“I do, yes, but…” I trailed off timidly, nibbling at my lower lip as I mulled over what I wanted to say, but luckily, the king caught on.

“Sweetheart, as soon as I get you onto my health insurance, do you want me to look into therapy for you?” he asked me, stepping up behind me and beginning to gently massage my tense shoulders. “Given your turmoil past with the girls’ father, I’d personally feel much better if you received a bit patriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchpatriarchmore emotional and mental support then what I can provide for you.”

“Can you pair me with a female therapist?” I begged hesitantly. “Please?”

“Of course,” he smiled kindly at me. “Do you want me to arrange for you to meet with your therapist physically or do you want to do everything online?”

“Um…” I returned to nibbling at my lower lip once more. “I don’t know. Hybrid, maybe? Can I do both?”

“I think you can do both,” he answered before taking a step backwards, clearly picking up on me becoming overwhelmed. “We can talk more about this later, okay? I can tell that you’re becoming overwhelmed. Do you want me to leave you and let you finish getting ready now, sweetheart?”

“Nono, you can stay, if you want.” For the first time, I realized what a fine specimen the king was. His green boxers peeked up from the hip of his black jeans and a thick trail of curls trailed from below his bellybutton into the great unknown, making a deep red flush overtaking my befreckled face. His chest and stomach were well balanced with muscled and fat, and I knew that he took great pride in looking like a presentable ruler.

“Like what you see?” he chortled, flexing his arms teasingly. “I’ll be in the bedroom getting ready for today. Do you want me to choose something for you to wear?”

I nodded mutely, my eyes following this magnificent creature as he left the bathroom and headed into the master bedroom, leaving me to my thoughts.

I reemerged from the bathroom fifteen minutes later and found two outfits laying out on the neatly made bed- a light jade green tunic dress with long sleeves and a mock neck and soft black cotton leggings and a deep hunter green sweater and dark black jeans. In between the two outfits was a fresh pair of cotton panties, a bra and socks.

MEOW

Coco, a pure black cat, jumped up onto the bed, making a cute cat expression on her face as she clearly demanded cuddles and attention.

“Hello there, pretty kitty,” I crooned petting him behind an ear. “Which outfit should I wear today? Hmm?”

MEOW yowled Coco, looking at the second outfit, then up at me before sitting and beginning to lick at a paw.

“Good choice, kitty!” I praised him, quickly dressing myself before bending to place a sweet kiss between the cat’s ears.

MEOW

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noolde

@elianafilthyrose

@ch3rry-c01a

@rockstarslutt

@angelxfuckk

[inklingofadream]

Ink’s Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi Fic Rec List

many eons ago, i received the encouragement to make this from @maya-custodios-dionach and since then I’ve gotten very wrapped up because. 1) finding the links I got distracted rereading the fics, 2) I had so many tabs open for this it slowed down my computer, like, independently, 3) I’ve typed this up sooooo many times and had it get eaten. So instead of my usual thoughts and notes these are mostly just trope info, you’ll have to trust me and click through

also literally I’ve thought of 3 more for this just typing this intro, but again, it took actual weeks to get this far, it’s just going to have to be incomplete. Without further ado:

Draluram by ironhoshi; 76k, WIP. Teen au, great OC friends for Jango

Star to Star by KivaEmber; 38k, WIP. Teen au, post-Melida/Daan and Jaster lives au, slavery/escape

The Lesson by cjwritesfanficnow; 50k, WIP. Time travel au

All We Ever Have is Hunger (All We Never Get is Power) by crispyjenkins; 32k, WIP.  Phantom Menace au, Bandomeer au where Obi-Wan was adopted as Padme’s brother, bounty hunter Jango, Jaster lives

Always in motion is the future by arrowupmysleeve; 53k, complete. Galidraan au, teen au, Obi-Wan has a force vision and helps the Mandos

there is no death (there is a wedding) by virdant; 8k, WIP series. Accidental marriage au, ghost marriage only Jango turns out not to be a ghost

Integration by Millberry_5; 80k, complete. The foundational text of the Integration au, Mandalorian Empire au, brainwashing

Of Teachers and Ta’ayl’e by biscuitlevitation; 8k, WIP. Force sensitive!Boba, kidnapped Obi-Wan as his teacher

Entry, Descent and Landing by Kutaisi; 3k, complete. Integration au, Anakin centric with recaptured Obi-Wan; WIP sequel with Anakin and Rex being Integrated

Untethered by Anonymous; 27k, WIP. Integration au, injured Obi-Wan who’s temporarily blind and mute, Obi-Wan hiding that he knows Mando’a, Jango doesn’t realize he’s very obviously in love yet

Fate and Choice by Emrys_Fae; 3 different WIP variations on an au. Soulmate au, Mandalorians can feel the Mand’alor’s soulmate, Jedi don’t have soulmates

Aliik by brightclearline; 51k, complete. Fate and Choice au, Obi-Wan’s Mandalorian mission au

Stand Against the Tide by sometimes_i_right; 28k, WIP. Melida/Daan au, Integration au, focus on the Young, betrayal

Lineage and Legacy by therehavebeenworsenames; 17k, WIP. Integration au, kid!clones, Obi-Wan decides he can’t let the clone army thing happen

Kairkiyc by biscuitlevitation; 26k, WIP. Integration au, Obi-Wan and kid!Anakin as Integrators, Jaster is invested and Jango is suspicious

To Tyrants by toque; 22k, complete. Captured!Obi-Wan and Boba, duel for the Dark Sabre, Obi-Wan gets tied up on the wrong side of political stuff

[dearestminyoongi]

To be natural – is a training exercise | 3 |

‣ summary: As a result of the recent dating rumours spreading around, you are forced by your agency to resort to a very popular practice among idols: adopting a hybrid to draw the attention of your fans to the adorableness of your new platonic partner and not the scandal on the verge of breaking out. But it’s hard to get used to having a second shadow when you’re accustomed to being on your own, especially if your new companion is hell-bent on having all your attention directed at him. Constantly.

‣ pairing: Jimin x female reader

‣ genre: hybrid au; idol!reader; fluff; hurt/comfort; slice of life; sassy!reader

‣ word count: 14.5k

‣ chapters: 1 / 2 / 3

Notes: Hitomi is your idol/stage name! OKAY I’m very sorry, but the reader eats some things in this chapter which are animal derivatives, but! There are vegan options of those, so if you have some differences in your eating habits, you can pretend the food to be of your preferences. You also eat some vegetables, vegan meat and a Korean chicken soup. Also you drink coffee here. If you don’t in real life: think of it as decaffeinated, or as just orzo? I tried to keep it really vague. This is the only warning. Oh! Also: cuteness, hurt/comfort. Lastly: if you catch some mistakes, please notify me!

You’re mentally listing the things left to do in your morning routine, toothbrush dangling from your pursed lips while you’re applying the eyeliner when suddenly you remember you’re not alone in the flat.

To be more precise, your train of thought goes as follow:

Finish brushing my teeth (should buy new toothpaste)

Search for the new mascara and that berry blossom-scented hand cream

Air dry hair (no-one will berate me since today I’m not leaving the agency. It’s important that Jimin can get used to the place)

Change purse to match the outfit

And then there’s a sudden jolt in your sleepy brain when the image of your cat hybrid flash in your mind. You promptly choke on the toothpaste and swallow down some of it. You hurry to pull out your toothbrush and wash out your mouth, drinking the water straight from the tap.

When you raise your face your disgusted expression greets you in the mirror, along with a pretty, thick, black line that from the corner of your eye reach your temple. You don’t really have time to fix that, so you pick up your make-up remover and just decide to go bare-faced.

You don’t even spare a look at your hair and just return to your room, retrieve the handbag you used yesterday and rush out. How could you forget him? To be sure, you’ve grown used to be on your own, and you learned to appreciate your alone time, but after all that happened yesterday, especially that exchange right before you went to sleep–

You halt in front of Jimin’s door and put a stop to your thoughts. Right now you should focus on the important things and make sure he’s ready to come with you. Quite honestly you should’ve already integrated him into your morning routine, planning for his presence, now you fear you’ll be running late. Officially you need to be at the agency by 8 A.M., but you usually meet up with Lee beforehand to grab a quick breakfast together and catch up on the day’s agenda.

The wristwatch tells you it’s a quarter to seven. Could he be already up?

You raise your hand and knock gently against the door, calling his name in a voice that’s little more than a whisper. His sensitive ears should be able to pick that up, but you receive no answer. You try again only to get the same result. Shuffling a little on the spot, you wonder if he’s still asleep, if you should inch your way inside his bedroom and wake him up.

He’d be quite sleepy, you imagine. With his beautiful hazel eyes lidded and his pupils like pinpoints from the morning sunlight entering from the window, his squishy cheek pressed on the pillow, his fluffy ears hidden in his messy blonde hair. Maybe he’d try to burrow under the blankets, mumbling about just five minutes or maybe he’d smile languidly at you the moment he recognizes you, greeting you with a groggy voice. You wonder if he’ll still have that higher-pitched, melodious tone or if, perhaps, he’d have a lower, more rough timbre.

You’re itching to find out for yourself, heart speeding up at the prospect and after hesitating for a few seconds more, your hand grips the door handle. You have opened it just a couple of inches when suddenly in the still, windowless hallway, you feel a gust of air brush against your nape, whispering delicately near your ears. Then a touch against your damp hair, something resembling a nudge, and a puff of air warm the back of your neck.

You freeze on the spot, fighting a shiver. There is most definitely someone behind you; someone who is… smelling you?

You can almost feel him humming when he asks you: “Were you searching for me?”

Almost in auto-pilot, you close the door in front of you, then spin yourself and lean your back against it. And here, in front of you, stands Jimin in all his glory. He’s already dressed in a pair of tracksuit black pants and a white t-shirt, feet clad in soft socks. His hair is brushed neatly, covering his forehead, and his ears are tilted up in mild interest. He’s watching over you with a slight smile on his plump rose lips, and the longer you look at him the more it seems to want to bloom in a full-fledged grin.

He doesn’t look sleepy at all. You don’t have time to suppress the stupid, nonsensical sense of disappointment that rise in you, never mind pretending to have the presence of mind to formulate an answer or even a greeting, before he’s leaning towards you.

Even if there’s still much space between you two, your breath hitch and you almost choke – for the second time that morning – on your spit. You swallow and you swear his eyes follow the movement. But then Jimin’s gaze locks with yours and he keeps you pinned down under his laser-focused attention.

His soft lips open delectably – your eyes almost flicker down to watch them, but you barely resist – and he asks you: “Did you have sweet dreams?”

Usually, you’re quite proud of your composure, the way you can withstand the worst interactions and malicious comments with a straight poker face, sometimes even a polite fake smile if the occasion calls for it. However, you are not accustomed to being subjected to such a devastating attack so early in the morning, in what should be your safe space, where you let down your guard and relax.

You feel yourself getting hot in the face and you hope that he’ll somehow miss the blush colouring your cheeks, while you ponder the apparent fact that Jimin is going to be the mean of your end, one way or another. What a way to go, mumbling half phrases and unable to maintain his gaze.

Your head is filled with the clear memories of the night before, of the text he sent you and the answer you gave him; in the spaces between those recollections sits the strong impression and vague reminiscence of the sweet dreams you indeed had.

They were filled with sunlight, a lot of greenery and you were surrounded by soft and almost impalpable fabric which hugged you tight. Your fingers were playing with the stems of some flowers and you were trying to work on a crown made of bright yellow buttercups, but something resting in your lap kept snagging your attention with its cute gestures. It had fluffy ears, blonde hair, lidded hazel eyes–

You clear your throat, before asking him: “Were you just sniffing me?”

While it’s the most unsubtle change of topic you ever saw, it does its trick: Jimin blinks once, before opening his eyes wide in a bewildered expression and he straightens up at once. You didn’t even notice he was inching closer to you until he did that.

Now he’s the one to blush. And he’s either a fast learner or just better at making an exit, but he inform you in a dismissing tone that he ‘started on breakfast; c’mon let’s go before it burns’, then he turns around, tail swishing agitatedly behind him and hurries down the hallway towards the kitchen, without waiting for you.

You make use of those spare seconds where you’re alone to regroup and calm yourself a little bit. There’s no reason for him to try and bring up the topic during the rest of the day, not if he wants to avoid being questioned about his behaviour. Which is in all probability completely normal by hybrid standards, since they are so susceptible to smells and whatnot. Still, you’re going to exploit that slight weakness to the best of your ability, because you do not want to feel so caught off guard again.

When you enter the open kitchen Jimin is in front of the stove, turning a golden omelette in the pan, with the table already set for you two. In fact, you can see he has already placed a poached egg on each of your plates, alongside– yeah, those are scrambled eggs and kale.

“Uh,” you utter, because the possibility that Jimin is only able to cook variations of eggs is not something you took into consideration.

His ears twitch and he spares you a look from behind his shoulder, smiling bashfully at your perplexed face.

“Your fridge is really empty,” he informs you lightly. “And the expiration date of those eggs were today, so I thought we could do a breakfast made of only those and kale. Is that okay?”

“Of course! You thought right, let’s not waste them,” you hurry to say, walking to the fridge to see if there is something to drink that isn’t energy drinks. The desolation inside squash your hopes, and you start to feel bad: not only he prepared breakfast for the two of you while you were busy forgetting he existed, but he did so when his options were so limited it was bound to be frustrating to conjure up anything. You close the fridge’s door and go to your coffee machine, only to see there is already a smoking cup sitting there, ready to be drunk.

Jimin brushes close to you when he goes to place the omelettes on your plates. He glances at the hot drink you took in your hands.

“That’s yours,” he tells you. “I tried to do it the same way you took it at lunch yesterday, while we were at the mall. I don’t know if I succeeded, though.”

“No, that’s… It’s perfect, thank you so much Jiminie,” you answer.

You feel kind of choked up, which is absolutely stupid and inevitable when you have such a sweet, caring, darling person who tries to accommodate you, even when it’s not their job nor their responsibility to do so. It’s been a while, since the last time someone took care of you in any form without it being related to their line of work…

Jimin laughs at you, even if he’s blushing again at the use of his nickname. He sits down at the table and watches with lidded eyes and a grin as you round it to sit in your place.

“You don’t know that, yet,” he points out. “You haven’t even tried it!”

So you bring the cup to your lips, blow air on it for a couple of seconds and take a sip. The rich flavour washes over your taste buds, warming your tongue. While the capsules you have are definitely not like the ones from your favourite café, it’s strong and delicious. You think that you wouldn’t mind switching your routine and stop going out for breakfast every morning, not when the alternative presents you with an eager and considerate hybrid sitting in front of you, watching your every move to see if you like what he did for you.

You hum, delighted. “It is good,” you reaffirm to him, before drinking again.

He smiles back, before taking his fork and gesturing to you to try out his food, too.

And you have to admit that, even if he indeed was only able to cook variations of eggs, at least he was great at doing so. They were golden, crisp and seasoned just lightly; once in your mouth, they immediately melted in a delectable way.

You are lost in contemplation, trying to appreciate the first warm homemade meal that you ate in quite some months, when Jimin begins to talk.

“I’m glad you like them,” he says, his fluttering eyes averted from yours, while he shyly smiles at his plate. “I woke up early today because I was so excited and I just couldn’t wait for you to get up, too. It felt like an eternity, so I chose to busy myself in the meantime.”

You blink back, baffled. Early, he says. As if you don’t set your alarm to 6 A.M. sharp every day and are such a late riser.

He seems to read your expression from beneath his long lashes, and he giggles. “You know,” he begins, before flicking his ears and catching your attention with their movements. “Cat genes. Sometimes in the middle of the night, I wake up and I’m filled with a nervous energy so strong that it’s useless trying to go back to sleep. It’s better if I just do something to dispel all of that build up exuberance.”

Jimin has the zoomies, is the first thing you think. And then it’s a struggle moving on from that thought. You try to keep your face blank while he continues eating, none the wiser to the series of adorable images that are following each other in your head.

You clear your throat to focus back on your breakfast, inadvertently catching his eyes. “Won’t you be tired during the day, then?”

“Oh, yes,” he answers, shrugging his shoulders. “I usually take several naps in the afternoon and late evening.”

You wish you could do that, too. But on a more serious note– You try not to frown and for a couple of minutes, you limit yourself to eat the kale and the scrambled eggs. It’s when you’re almost done with your meal and you’re sipping the remaining coffee, that you point out the thing that had you preoccupied.

“I wonder… would you rather stay here, today? So you can rest, since you slept so little.”

Immediately Jimin looks on high alert, with his eyes opened wide and ears straight upon his head. He’s so agitated that his nervous tail hits one of your legs under the table; he doesn’t even seem to notice, as focused as he is on what you just said.

You can’t imagine why he seems so caught off guard. Of course, you’d rather he went with you so you could, for starter, get to know him more; then you’d feel better knowing he’s not alone in your messy apartment free to discover the complete state of disarray it verses on and, lastly, you’re pretty sure it is expected of you to take him with you so that he could get used to the agency and your job.

However, this is his first day out of the shelter, he admitted he’ll get quite tired and you don’t think he’ll have many opportunities to nap in another brand new place surrounded by strangers. That seems to matter very little because your consideration appears to have been regarded as a distasteful offer.

“No!” Jimin promptly denies your suggestion vehemently, while shaking his head at you. You swear the fur on his velvet ears is raised in alarm as well. “I’ll be alright, totally okay really, I’ll sleep once we get back and– and tonight probably I won’t be compelled to get up, so I’ll get used to your schedule just, uh, fine!”

Now you’re the one taken back by such a strong reaction, but you quickly shrug it off when you see your phone light up with a text message. A quick glance informs you that Lee is asking if you’re running late or if he should just wait for you at the building. Swiftly you write back ‘omw to agency w/ J’, before rising from your seat.

Seemingly on instinct, Jimin follows your lead. When he gets up he takes the dishes and puts everything in the sink, watching you with a light furrow between his brows while you check your appearance one last time on your pocket mirror.

You put it in your purse, then turn and smile at him. “Then let’s go, it’s time to start the day.”

His face relax in an easy grin, with soft rosy cheeks and gentle hazel eyes, all signs of preoccupation wiped away as if they never even existed. “Show me the way.”

It’s 7:45 in the morning when you get out of the company issued car in front of your agency. Jimin follows you with a picture-perfect expression of curiosity colouring his face, brushing against your side when he starts to walk with you towards the entrance. You can already see Jeong-hoon through the glass doors, curved on his phone by Jin-eu and you certainly can spot the way his lips are downturned, the distinct two lines on his forehead that appear every time he’s holding back some kind of negative emotion.

You conceal your sigh.

In a matter of seconds, you have passed through the entrance and are headed towards the receptionist, who is already scanning Jimin up and down. Fortunately, there aren’t many people around, and those present are all busy doing their job, so he isn’t on the receiving end of too many double backs. But he seems to catch on to her curiosity and he stops looking around, marvelling at each new aspect he finds interesting, to look back at her with a more guarded expression.

Jin-eu simply smiles at him, before greeting you by your name, thereby snatching Lee’s attention, who hurries to send one last text before raising his head up. While he straightens his suit’s jacket and fidgets with his cufflinks, as if he could ever be caught dead in any kind of unkept, it becomes blatantly obvious that he had already contrived a plan of action for today and that he had sought a helping hand to facilitate everything.

In fact, Ms Yi doesn’t waste any time before she turns her pretty black eyes on the only hybrid present. “Hello, you must be Park Jimin,” she deduces, before pointing at her own nametag in lieu of introducing herself. “I’m sure you’re aware that, as the companion of Hitomi, it’s quite expected of you to tag along in most of her endeavours.” She barely waits for his nod of confirmation before proceeding, a polite smile firm on her ruby red lips. “For you to be able to do this you’ll need to have your own badge, so anyone will be able to identify you and there won’t be any unfortunate mistakes. Since we have already taken the liberty to fabricate everything you’ll need with the information we were provided, we only need your approval and your signature on a couple of documents.”

On her organized desk appears the items she hinted at and in the next blink Jimin is holding a pen in his hand and he’s looking over the written words presented in front of him, a slightly bewildered look upon his face. He doesn’t seem too bothered, however, because his ears are relaxed back and his tail is flicking just a tiny bit.

When you turn around, manager Lee is pointedly trying to send you a hint by making eyes at his own phone and then at you. You retrieve your own device just to see he indeed texted you. It must have been the last message he sent, too, because in his hurry he butchered some words.

i distracr Jimin you ned to talk to mangment, it reads.

You raise an eyebrow at that, sending the most deadpan expression you can manage before you answer him: I’ll talk to mangment, but stop being inconsiderate and don’t overwhelm him.

He doesn’t read it, but you know he can be a sneaky one when he wants, and he’ll do it without being discovered as soon as possible. In the meantime, he looks appeased, probably guessing you’ll do your job anyway. You try to be likewise pleased, knowing he’ll heed your words and treat the hybrid nicely enough, but still, it’s unlikely you’ll see him for the rest of the day and it’s hard being gratified with that knowledge.

In your line of work, there’s seldom a break and there aren’t many parts where your input is taken into consideration, and since the idea of adopting had been brought up by the PR’s director and the order was issued directly by the CEO, you suspect that all the important people already know of the new addition. Whether he likes it or not, your hybrid has just been dragged in this world and you doubt they’ll ever let him go.

Jin-eu’s voice puts a momentary end to your mopey thoughts: “Perfect! Please remember to keep the badge on your person every time you come here, because even if people will soon start to recognize you as Hitomi’s partner, you’ll still need it to access some upper-level sections that are otherwise restricted to lower-ranked personnel.”

“Yes, thank you,” says Jimin, with a little secretive smile on his full lips and a light blush colouring his cheeks. Now that, is something to wonder at. What could Ms Yi have possibly said to make him react to that? Did you miss something important?

That idea unsettles you, and you immediately try to stop your abnormal and useless fretting. For once someone is there to help with that.

“Mr Park,” begins cordially the man at your side. When the hybrid turns to look at him, he extends his palm and you watch them shake hands. “I’m H’s manager, my name is Lee Jeong-hoon. In case you’re in need of anything or have any worries that need to be assuaged, please know I’m here to assist you to the best of my ability. If you’re not sure how to do something or are uncertain of one particular aspect or another I’ll be glad to help you whatever you’re struggling with, as well.”

“Nice to meet you,” says Jimin. Then, looking a little awkward for being put on the spot, he sends you a rapid glance, before blurting out: “I have your number on my phone.”

Silence wrap all of you in its suffocating embrace for a couple of moments.

“Ah,” answers Jeong-hoon genially, before giving a single nod. “Good.”

Then Ms Yi helpfully interjects: “Mr Lee, since you’re such an accomodating manager, could you give Mr Park a tour in my stead? I’m afraid I don’t have much time to spare, certainly not enough for giving justice to every floor and you’ll be the most adept to answer any questions regarding Hitomi.”

You wonder if your dear friend deliberately asked the receptionist to kiss his ass as much as she could, or if she’s always been so good at offering platitudes. For a moment you even contemplate the chance that she’s coating her every word in irony before she turns to you. While you have only exchanged greetings and little else with her, Jin-eu regards you with a kind expression that appears completely genuine, as far as you can ascertain.

“I was instructed to inform you that the director of management is expecting you in his office. The meeting with the marketing team that was cancelled yesterday has been rescheduled to start in half an hour in CONF_303,” she informs you. “I’m sure Mr Lee will have finished by then and he’ll bring you back Mr Park along with the rest of your timetable. Have a nice day, all of you.”

That said Jin-eu turns her attention back on her tasks, and starts typing furiously on the keyboard as if engaged in a personal vendetta against whichever thing has her now preoccupied. Taking her plain dismissal for the clue that is, Jeong-hoon doesn’t waste any time before taking back the reins.

He claps his hands together a single time. “Well,” he starts. “Looks like we all have our things to do before meeting up again.”

You imagine that Lee is expecting everything to go smoothly from that moment, but it appears Jimin has another idea. He almost scrambles to be by your side, eyes wide open and pleading. Not only it seems like he’s beseeching your approval, but it’s as if in his frenzy he forgets he’s in a public place. In a matter of seconds, you find yourself plastered to a hybrid, all his firm muscles and soft curves pressed against you, his head pushed firmly to yours, and you're left immobilized and staring straight ahead of you.

Jeong-hoon brows furrow and even Ms Yi raises her head from her work the time necessary for arching one of her slim, perfectly plucked eyebrows. You silently share their bewilderment.

“Wha–”, you start, forcing yourself to not struggle away from the sudden embrace. Like a prey frozen in front of apparent danger, contemplating the chance to dash off, you know rationally that it’d be best for you to remain still, but you’re itching to race away. Surely there must be a reason why he’s acting like that and putting distance between you two seems like the thing he’d hate you to do most. You try to focus on that thought instead of your agitation.

“I told you yesterday,” Jimin interrupts you, with a barely-there voice. You don’t think he’s deliberately trying to conceal what he’s saying to you from the others, it looks more like he’s currently unable to reaffirm himself. “I told you I would follow you all day long. That I looked forward to it. I… I don’t want to leave.”

“Ah,” you muster, patting the arm around your waist in a vague attempt to supply comfort. “But you won’t leave the building, I’ll be there–”

“No,” he cuts in, again. He pushes his head even firmer against your hair, strengthening his hold on you. “I don’t want to leave you.”

You raise your eyes to the ceiling, either asking for divine intervention or trying to catch a glimpse of his face, you’re not sure. Your beating heart definitely didn’t skip a beat and you’re not flustered. Not at all. When you lower your gaze you catch your manager’s, and you try to compose yourself to at least give the semblance that you know what to do in this circumstance.

“Jimin,” you say, your voice on the point of being suffocated, trying to remain lax in his hold.

You should be able to find comfort in it, but you aren’t used to… to that. Nowadays if you hug someone it's an event that's over in a matter of seconds, blinks of time that flow by you before you could register the feel of it. But he holds you steadfast, and he’s warm and solid, no figment of your imagination. He’s strong – you can feel it in the way his arms are tensed around you, the sinewy energy hiding just under your fingertips – and he’s also so deliberate in the way he pulls you against him: he secures you to him, but in doing so he remains careful, not putting any pressure around your ribs.

It should be nice.

In the dream you definitely didn’t dream last night, it was nice.

And yet you have to suppress the want to fidget, to slip away and put distance between you. So that you can catch your breath and refocus. You, who have spent almost a decade painstakingly training your body to move each of your muscles as you desire, that has worked to have efficient control of every part of yourself, feel lost. You don’t know what to do with yourself and it’s a struggle to even think. In a queer, unfathomable way, it seems like you’re an outside force looking on the scene, with no power to alter anything, just a spectator of your own life. While you don’t want to hurt his feelings, while you want to address his worries and reassure him that there’s no reason for him to panic, all you can concentrate on is how long is he going to hold you for, what you should do, what everyone around you is thinking about that. How to put an end to it.

You don’t say anything else, but he seems to catch up. In a gesture that appears reluctant, he lowers his arms, passing his nose near your ear in a last nuzzle, before taking a step back.

Breathing in and out, internally counting to calm yourself, you turn to look at him. He looks deflated, his fluffy ears trying to hide between his blonde locks, his eyes downturned. Even his tail is mostly still and gives a sudden, rapid flick when his gaze meets yours. You don’t know him as well as you wish, so you can’t be sure what emotions are turbinating behind his eyes, but you could swear he somehow perceived your unease.

“Jimin,” you start again, before clearing your throat when you notice your voice still sound a little bit smothered. His ears raise up in attention. “Let me show you the map of the building, for starters. So you’ll know where you’re more likely to find me if you’re searching for me.”

Lee reads the room easily and nods. “Yeah, good idea. I’ll double-check that the paperwork is in order, just give me five minutes.”

You barely register what he told you, taking Jimin by his hand and gently leading him towards the nearest floors plan, hoping that the few meters distancing you from the reception desk will lend you a little privacy.

While you walk there you can feel his grip around your hand tightening, his tail brushing against your side. You can also hear Ms Yi asks Lee if he truly has so little faith in her and her competence that he feels the need to check her every move, and his amused voice is clear when he quips back that while he’s sure she is a wonderful, hardworking receptionist, maybe the heavy workload could bring her to make some mistakes. And he just doesn’t want her to embarrass herself, isn’t he such a sweet and attentive person?

Vaguely you wonder to yourself if they are actually closer than what you were brought to believe at first glance, or if they are just exceptional in faking cluelessness; maybe their ability to avoid awkward situations is mandatory for their job positions.

Once in front of the building’s plan, you halt, and Jimin comes to your side, taking care to hold a slight distance between you two that has never been there before. You keep ahold of his hand, brushing your thumb back and forth in a vain attempt to reassure yourself him, but you remain facing forward.

“This is where my personal office is allocated,” you begin, pointing it out easily with your free hand. Then you show him where you usually go to practice, where the communal canteen is, where is your studio. You do so almost automatically, taking your time to ponder how to approach the topic you truly want to discuss with him.

When you start to run out of places, you take all your courage and start: “I would like for you to be near me during most of my workday and to make this possible you need to know where everything is, where you can go without being questioned and where it’d be better for you not to follow me. I don’t think they’ll like you very much, my superiors I mean, if you were to accompany me during important meetings where all my concentration is required. If you were there I would have to resist talking to you, and frankly that sounds like a very difficult thing to ask of me. Allow me to be selfish and ask something difficult out of you: please don’t tempt me with a good time.”

This pries a tentative giggle out of him, and you are run over by a powerful wave of satisfaction and relief, feeling as if you can return to breath more freely. In your renewed confidence, you find the nerve to tug him towards you; he easily follows your lead and you bump his shoulder with yours. You never relinquish your hold of his hand, finding the way his palm press against yours reassuring.

“We’ll be there five days per week, for most of the time, this will be your second home in all but feeling and fact, so it’ll make me feel so much better if you were able to move around, never running the risk of getting lost and being in need of help.” And then, looking at the way he starts to frown, you hurry to add something a little cheeky. “Far from being the only idol present, I can certainly image you running in someone prettier and kinder, who will be there to rescue you and catch all your affection, and then what will I do? You’ll ask to leave, and I’ll have to get back to a very empty apartment, all by myself, surrounded exclusively by the chaos I’ve made with no motivation to clean it, with no one to share my meals with.”

Jimin’s airy, Tinkerbell-like laugh rings out before you’ve finished talking but even so, he’s already shaking his head at the depressing scene you painted for him.

“No,” he denies between breaths. “I would never run off with the first person who is nice to me.”

You hold your tongue, not wanting to point out the obvious – because he had run off with you, hadn’t he? - and instead, you conspiratorially smile back at him: “Ah, I see, you won’t follow the first, but there’s no telling with the second or the third who will help you out in your moment of need.”

Jimin vehemently protests against that notion, but you dramatically sigh and continue: “There’s no helping it, with such a sweet hybrid like you I’m going to have to ward off many people, but surely you can try to ease my fears and learn to move in this place so as to not get lost?”

You know you are not fooling him, and this isn’t your intent, but the back and forth seems to have relaxed him enough that, if not ecstatic, at the very least he looks resigned to get it over with.

You take care not to mention the reason behind your previous discomfort, not wanting to shift the scrutiny on you.

And how would you have explained it away, besides?

You couldn’t come out and declare: ‘Ehy, it’s totally fine. It’s not you, I mean it. It’s just that I’m so touch-starved that continued exposure to intimacy easily overwhelms me.’

Because that sounded absolutely normal, and not a bit much to unload on the second day of your acquaintance with someone. You would at least let the first week pass, before trying to talk to him about your fucked-up boundaries or whatnot. If you could get away with it, you wouldn’t talk of it, full stop. Sadly, that wasn’t an option, because you were a responsible adult that didn’t shy away from displeasing talks.

Ugh.

Talking about being adults… You spy Jimin’s ears raise up in alert from the corner of your eye, and soon enough Jeong-hoon is clearing his throat from behind you. He must have checked his watch and concluded you had enough time to talk it out.

When you turn around he smiles, but you can see that he’s starting to fret, and while you usually would agree that making any director wait was something you should strive to avoid, this time you think you had a valid reason for your potential tardiness.

“Jiminssi, are you ready?” He asks anyway, even if it’s evident that he expects to hear only one answer and he won’t accept any other. The hybrid spares a quick glance your way, as if to gather all the assuredness he can, then he gives a quick nod and when Lee starts to walk, he follows him.

You have to let go of his hand and all the time – while you’re watching his figure disappears in an elevator, while you take your own lift to go to the director’s office, and even while you are knocking at the mahogany door once there – you have to flex your fingers, to try to get rid of your nervous energy.

You already miss his palm against yours, the way his fingers perfectly fits in the empty spaces, so perhaps you’ll have to find out why you like his touch so much and rationalize it, before telling him that you do your best to avoid all superficial contacts. Maybe… maybe he could eventually be your only exception.

It became apparent that separating from Jimin had been a good decision when, five minutes in your private consultation with the management’s director, it turned out he doesn’t have any patience or consideration for the feelings of other people, nevermind hybrids’.

If it makes you uncomfortable hearing strangers speak of Jimin as an asset and being listed the myriad of ways the company can work him to benefit them, you can’t imagine how that would affect him.

That conversation and the subsequent meeting with the marketing team couldn’t have been over sooner and even if just an hour went by, you felt as if they had leeched out all the energy you had in store for the day. To be completely sure you are going to be dead tired by the time lunch rolls around, your considerate manager informs you through text that your schedule of the day sees the regular three hours of training placed immediately after.

You’re only half an hour in, when Jimin reappears, looking the part and acting as a mirage; you certainly feel like a desperate lost soul in search of a reprieve.

You have just completed your extensive warm-up, already in need of a break and utterly dishevelled, when you see the door of the practice room inch open. You watch through the mirrors lining up the wall the way his ears peek inside, soon followed by the rest of the head. He’s got a tentative smile and a somewhat circumspect expression about him, as if doubting his welcome.

“Hi,” he greets you when he meets your reflected gaze.

“Hi,” you call back, with a decidedly breathier tone, combing back the astray hair that escaped your scrunchie to achieve a semblance of order.

He takes that as his permission to walk inside. Once in he checks his surroundings, probably categorizing away all the oh so interesting particularities of the bare, empty and generic room. Usually, there are more people utilizing the same place, working side by side, but currently, you are the only one that is preparing herself for a tour, and most know you like being on your own when you need to concentrate, so it’s just you two.

Like when we came back home yesterday, you think unhelpfully to yourself, while you’re sipping your Gatorade. Quick as lightning, your mind replays the way he brushed his lips against your wrist, the intense expression on his face when he told you to dream of him, the erratic beating of your heart. How he made you feel alive, present, living the moment to the fullest, even if that moment lasted only a few seconds.

So, anyway, you end up sputtering out some of what you were drinking. Yeah, not your brightest moment, but at least he doesn’t witness it, since he’s checking out the playlist on your phone. The speakers let out a catchy pop song, and you’re somewhat surprised when you see him humming the harmonies to himself.

“I recognize some of these, I think,” he tells you promptly, scrolling through them while you covertly try to regain your breath without coughing up your lungs. “Are any of them yours? I’m sorry,” he bashfully sends you a rapid glance, just as you’re placing down your bottle, his tail flicking nervously behind him, and you force yourself to focus on what he’s saying. “I know more about classical music, and it’s been a while since I’ve listened to anything modern so I’m out of the loop. I don’t even know much of what’s it like, being an idol. I promise I’ll listen to what you put out.”

“Oh,” you say, surprised he even thought that was a topic which he should have done his homework on and therefore that any apology was in order. As if he was lacking on that front. “Don’t worry, yes it’s my job, but you don’t have to know everything I’ve ever done in my career to show your support. As for your question, uhm–” you halt, thinking back.

You don’t really pay much attention to what is in the background when you are just doing basic training, as it’s the case today, and not working to get down a choreography.

“Probably,” you start tentatively, “there are some that are mine…?”

Jimin raises an eyebrow at your unconvinced tone and unsure expression. Fair enough.

You shrug at him: “This is just for me to build back my stamina and get back to the best shape possible. We’re preparing for a comeback, so it’s imperative that I’m at the top of my form when it’s time to face the upcoming tours, even if they’re two months from now and we haven’t released the single yet, nevermind the album. And the dance instructor and choreographers are still working on the moves, as well.”

His vacant eyes make you wonder if he actually caught anything that you told him, or if he’s in the middle of processing it. You awkwardly move to silence the alarm when it rings out, signalling the end of your five minutes break. You raise back the volume and when you get back to look at him, he is again with his feet down to earth.

“Since I’ve got no plan to go anywhere else, can I watch you while you train? Maybe you can answer some of my curiosities while you’re at it,” he asks you.

“Oh, sure,” you rush out while taking position in front of the mirror. This isn’t to be vain, because there is little worth being checked out when you are sweating like a pig, but more so to look over your form and be sure you are doing your exercises the correct way. “I don’t know how much I’ll be able to actually speak. After this one hour session, I’ll have to go to the gym to finish everything off.”

“Mmh,” he ponders out loud, stretching leisurely directly on your right so that you can look at him both through the mirror and the corner of your eye. “Sounds tiring. Maybe I’ll take a nap while I’m waiting for you to be done with it.”

You raise your head from the floor where you are already cursing the seemingly infinite series of situps you have to do, and yes, Jimin’s looking at you with an impertinent grin decorating his face. You huff, before putting down your head again. You stare at the white ceiling before you, counting the reps, a sleepy hybrid by your side that’s already started with his purring, and wonder how your life has come to that.

Two hours and almost a half later, you’re almost done with your morning schedule and, unsurprisingly, your life as well. The gruelling time you spent working on your body has been rendered even more brutal by the fact you haven’t put in any serious work since your last comeback, nearly nine months ago.

If this wasn’t enough, Jimin’s presence was a hard test all by itself. Being an idol means getting used to the spotlight and owning the stage, but somehow it was a different story with him and even if he shouldn’t have put you off so much, he truly unnerved you. Not only you were extremely conscious of every loud grunt and relieved sigh you let out, all this without even counting your messy appearance, but his intense, laser-focused eyes made you feel self-conscious even when all you were doing was drinking your stupid Gatorade.

Under his watchful look you had to wipe off, multiple times, all the dribbled liquid you managed to get on your chin and throat. It got so embarrassing even Jimin averted his gaze and pretended to be busy cleaning his nails, and you appreciated his effort, truly, but it was quite apparent he felt some kind of second-hand embarrassment by the blush that coloured his cheeks.

‘Any deity available that feel up to it, please hurry to rescue me. Or end me,’ had become your cheerful mantra.

While you can’t ascertain for sure the existence of a God, you believe there are some small mercies in this world. One of those is the fact that, right now, you’re the only ones surrounded by the gym equipment. There were a gaggle of other people before, but they mostly kept to their activities, drenching their curiosity with only sporadic, quick glances towards the hybrid always laying on the nearest bench to you. Now, finally finished with all your cardio, you’re ready to just go to eat.

Heeding your growling stomach, you send a quick text to Lee, asking him to retrieve a couple meals. There’s no way you’ll go to the communal cafeteria without showering first, but there’s also little chance you won’t just faint if you catch a quick one before eating something.

You immediately get down to stretch, gladly welcoming the way your muscles are loosening up, feeling the sweat you worked up beginning to cool off.

It’s ten minutes in and you’ve just stabilized your breathing, you’re sitting down, futilely struggling during one of those stupid exercises where you have to touch your toes and feeling like if you stretch some more your spine is going to break, when Jimin wakes up from his nap and immediately chooses violence.

Like the naive little fool you are, you don’t even notice his approach, and your fate is inevitable.

You have just straightened up a little, to catch the momentum and use it to rapidly get down and try to go beyond your ankles, when a wall encompasses you from behind. A sharp intake of breath and the next moment you find yourself curved over your extended legs, fingers well over your toes, folded like a pretzel and with an unmoving weight pushing you down.

The first thing you notice, truth be told, is the burning muscles screaming for being forced to go well over the usual breaking point, so for the first few moments, you’re a little busy internally cursing up a storm.

But then, all the other senses get their moment to shine and, little by little, in a painful gradual way, you become distinctly conscious of him.

Jimin’s chest is pushed against you, de facto acting as a wall of muscles against which you have no chance to resist; Jimin’s arms surround you, cocooning you in their circles; Jimin’s light hair and Jimin’s warm breath are brushing against your face, one moment touching your nape and the next one against one of your cheek; Jimin’s muscular thighs are folded over, pressing against your sides and encapsulating you in a little place: underneath you the floor and your own trembling legs, all around you– him.

Botton line: Jimin is sprawled on your back.

You have just come to terms with that fact (that’s a lie, you’ll be thinking about this specific moment for the next few months, wondering if that truly happened to you and being devastated by the fact that it must indeed have happened) when he lets up and like a spring that was restrained, you bounce back, sitting up as if electrified.

“Careful,” he giggles from what seems a mile away, so loud your heartbeat is resounding to your own ears. “You almost caught my nose there.”

“Nice,” you sputter out, frazzled. “I almost caught a heart attack over here.”

His laugh rings out, but your concentration is broken, your composure vanished, your self-awareness is on an all-time high. Your own skin itches, as if your body is an ill-fitted suit, rubbing your exposed nerves and scratching uncomfortably against that nagging feeling inside you, snagging on it, catching on that uneasiness which never leaves, ready to raise up like goosebumps every time you're touched, that makes you feel so wrong. You’re left feeling like a misplaced object who mistakenly found itself inside a person, somebody who is receiving tenderness while being painstakingly conscious that you are unworthy of it.

You wish you could’ve enjoyed it. You suddenly are frustrated and angry because here is your cheeky companion, your friendly hybrid, trying to get closer to you, seeking out the physical affection his instincts demand he finds to be assured of his place in the pack. A pack that is new, because you’ve just picked him up and placed him in an unknown territory, and therefore he’s in need of all the reassurance you can spare. You know that, you want to be able to withstand it, you are mostly sure you want the closeness as well and yet, you recoil.

Oh, this moment that lasted a half minute is going to live in your thoughts forever, because you’re going to think about it, yes. And you’re also going to dream of it. But that’s it. You’ll be left wanting, yearning for several other moments like that, longing for them and dreading their very own existences the second they’ll happen. You’ll wish for that eternal fraction of time resting in between the instant you’re taking in the love bestowed on you and the bit where you realize it’s all a mistake.

You stand up.

The stretching session is over.

Stop thinking, stop feeling. Focus on now. Now.

You’re fumbling with your bag, searching for a towel to wipe off the sweat beading your forehead. You did so before you started your cooling off routine, but now you’re again a shivering and overheated mess. As if you normally aren’t a disarray of–

But no, that isn’t the thing you should be thinking of.

You check your phone (Lee sent you a grumbling text, but he did manage to pick up your lunch), and your skin is prickled: you can feel Jimin’s eyes on you, the questions hovering behind his silence, the suspects you nurture that tell you he knows something is up, that he can feel it.

It’s okay, he’s too nice to press you, he’ll let you tell him everything when you’re ready. No, not when you’re ready, because you’ll postpone it forever… next week, that’s what you decided on. How will you even start? How can you explain something so– so stupid, really. You’re a baby, you seriously can’t even handle an extensive hug? But no. It’s not next week yet, now is now, so: stop thinking about it!

You let out a quivering sigh, and then you laugh it off.

“C’mon, Jimin. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving” you say, shouldering your bag, and sending him a smile. A beat passes, and he grins back at you. But his ears remain folded sideways, and the questions are still lingering behind his eyes.

However, he is nice, a dear really, so he gets up and comes to you without voicing them. You walk side to side to your office, and on the way, your nerves settle down enough for you to reach out and hold his hand. He squeezes it back immediately, so you see: it’s okay, nothing happened.

Plastic bags were ruffled open, box and little containers were taken out, wooden chopsticks got separated and soon you were both busy eating all that you could get your hands on, sipping from cold drinks directly from the can.

For a while in your little office were you, in truth, seldom remained for any considerable stretch of time, there were only the satisfied murmurs and hums of two people appreciating their hot meals.

However, after the initial ravenous hunger had been sated, you initiated the conversation.

“You know,” you began, while dabbing a thin napkin on your mouth. Jimin looked up from his bite, ears pointed up in attention, slitted eyes focusing on you. “I usually eat with other idols and singers in the canteen. But I must admit this is quite a nice change of pace: here you could actually hold a conversation with the person in front of you without shouting.”

The hybrid, sitting in the comfy, leatherbound office chair usually reserved for you, regaled you with an arched eyebrow and a quick, almost sly grin. “Then we could make it a habit. So I won’t have to share you.”

That said, he went to lay back, no doubt attempting to casually recline against his seat and look upon you with all the condescension he could manage, sure he left you scrambling to regroup your neurons to coordinate an answer. Sadly, he didn’t take into account your society’s needs to add luxury options wherever it could to make more money, and he wasn’t ready when the backseat reclined down with him, leaving him to be the one scrambling about.

A loud hiss resounded. You immediately hid your smile behind your hand, pretending to be chewing something. His tail all puffed out and eyes enlarged for the fright, he gripped the desk so tightly you were sure he’ll leave behind the imprint of his sharp nails.

You’re thankful for his misfortune, because you don’t have to contemplate why he’s so eager to have you all to himself. Still, for his sake, you pretend nothing happened, and continue on: “I don’t think manager Lee would much care for your proposition.”

It would be nice, of course. You don’t mind the others, checking in how it’s going, lamenting about minor things and occasionally bouncing off ideas on each other can be fun. But the lot of them are more out-going than you are, almost as if they were born to land on the pedestal they found themselves on; they’re there to engage everyone, to talk and to listen, always. So, cutting out a moment for just you, and of course Jimin, to relax a little without having to worry about keeping up any appearances sounds– delightful.

Your private office is quite secluded, made up of three solid walls which are supposedly soundproof (you never had the occasion to put that to the test since the loud action is exclusive to your studio) with a fourth made of glass, overlooking the city. Or, to say it like it actually is, presenting you with the thrilling view of all the other taller buildings surrounding you and the almost ever-present fog and smog, always ready to blur the landscape in an eery, dim illustration taken straight out of a gothic story.

If one were to act ostentatious, the interior could be described as minimalist. There’s the wooden desk, on one of its sides is the leatherbound chair where Jimin is currently fidgeting and absorbed in a thorough investigation with a suspicious look upon his face, two beige armchairs opposite. Some abstract paintings on the walls of artists you perhaps should know of, but struggle to recall, a mini-fridge that’s always empty because you’re never here, a pretty bookshelf half-empty with some classics and ornamental curiosities ready to attract a bored eye and all the dust they can. A plant in a corner that you suspect is fake, because during the last three years it went on remaining completely the same; a lush blue carpet in the middle of the room complete the desolate picture.

That’s it.

Excluding some personal knick-knacks undoubtedly lost in the drawers, you could leave this office tomorrow to someone else, and they wouldn’t need to get rid of anything before settling in.

You clear your throat. “Speaking of Jeong-hoon… this afternoon is going to be pretty boring, nothing out of the ordinary. I’ve got meetings after meetings before my appointment with the vocal coach. We’re still going to return home quite late, so I think if it’d be better to take advantage of the early afternoon to go grocery shopping so that we don’t end up like this morning.” You try for a smile, but he’s already frowning at you before you even finish your proposition. “Would you like to go accompanied by Lee?”

He doesn’t answer you. Verbally, at least. The glare he’s directing towards you speaks by itself, and it looks like he’s trying to intimidate you in a sudden change of heart.

“You can take everything you want,” you try to soften him up.

He doesn’t hesitate. “Ok, I want to take you with me.”

Aw, c’mon, Jimin, you silently lament to yourself at that. Don’t do that.

But it’s to no use, he’s already pouting. Pushing around the last scraps of his lunch with his chopsticks, almost glowering at it with downturned ears and slanted eyebrows, he makes for quite a pitiful vision.

It doesn’t last. He lets out what appears to be a long-suffering sigh and relents: “I was just joking.” You both know that’s a lie, so he goes on, and explain: “I’ll be fine with manager Lee. I just wanted to hear you sing, too.”

You reach over the desk, patting him amicably on his unoccupied hand. As you expected he immediately turns it around to hold yours, the gesture appears as a blur so fast are his reflexes.

“It won’t take much time,” you’re quick to reassure him. “You’ll be able to come back and listen to me, if that’s what you really wish.”

“That’s what I want,” Jimin nods decidedly.

“Of course,” you indulge him. “But, consider this: it will also be nice to do things on your own, so that whenever you have to come with me at the agency you won’t be confined to this building and to the inevitable boredom that will assault you. You can just go out, do whatever you want without having to wait for me all the time.”

He listens to what you tell him, just like he lent his ears this morning when you calmed him down in accepting your temporary separation. Still, it looks as if it’s a struggle, on his part, to accept his own independence, the fact he exists as a whole even, if not especially, when he’s detached from you.

“Even if you think it’s boring, it’s all new to me,” he says at last. “I like seeing you here, in your element, being confident and doing what you love to do. I don’t want to be anywhere else, when I’m here with you.”

He’s grown quite attached in an extremely short period, it is now too apparent to pretend he’s just the most affectionate person in the world you ever had the pleasure to meet. You don’t know if you’re exaggerating or projecting, but it feels as if he’s trying to desperately clutch at you, seeking all the attention you can provide, maybe even endeavouring to tempt you in a codependent pseudo-relationship. After all, if you start to wish for his affection, it’s less likely you’re going to give him back to the shelter. Not that you have the intention to do that, of course, but… it would explain everything, wouldn’t it? Why would he exert himself to cultivate a reciprocate fondness, nourishing it with constant vigilance and lovely touches, if not to gain something out of it?

It hurts to think like this of Jimin. But in your experience, no one gives out any form of love just for the sake of it. And you? Why would you ever deserve it?

“Don’t think I don’t want you here,” you start, trying to stop your harassing thoughts. “It’s just that… this is my job, yeah I love it most of the time, but it’s not easy or always exciting. And even if you’re really patient, well-mannered and sweet, I’m going to worry about you.” You stop to draw a breath and confide to him: “I’m going to be anxious, thinking: is he really doing okay? Does he wish to do something else? Is he going stir-crazy? It would put my mind at ease to know that if you want you can walk out and do other things.”

Jimin looks at you straight on, hazel eyes gradually vanishing while his pupils slowly expand, remaining stock-still. He seems still a little unsure, so you squeeze the hand still in his unyielding hold and add: “Then, at the end of the day, once we’re home, you can tell me all the things you did when I wasn’t around, and if you saw something you wanted to try out with me in our free time. You know, ideas for our quality time.”

He brightens at that. “And you would do it? You would accompany me?”

“Of course, if that’s what you want,” you answer, sounding like a broken record. Because: does he want you around? Or does he just needs you to like him enough to be free? And can you begrudge his possible facetiousness in face of the blatant fact that, in his eyes, it could very well decree his likelihood to attain more rights?

So it’s settled. And your accordance is sanctioned with your request to buy more cleaning products.

(“To be quite honest, I’m not even sure where the last ones I bought ended up.”

“Do you often misplace things?”

“I mean, I know they’re somewhere out there. If I really want to I can find everything. The problem is that I can’t be bothered, so yeah, I have lost things for months on end. But then they always turn up somewhere.”)

By then, you’ve gathered the trash, wondering where you’re going to stash it since your beautiful, unused office actually lacks a garbage can, of all things. You still have twenty or so minutes before you’ll have to hurry up and put yourself together, so maybe you’ll just find someplace to discard it safely on the way.

Jiminoffers no help to your dilemma, limiting himself to slow blinks. He’s clearly holding his head up only thanks to the support of his hand. He must be growing sleepy, but you watch him stubbornly fight against his lowering lids; he gives a little shake of his head and lets out an almost imperceptible growl anytime he catches himself on the point of headbutting the hardwood. It’s really endearing, so obviously your amusement lasts less than a Mayfly’s life. The moment you put the plastic bags filled with what remains of your meals on the ground and sit down again in one of the guest’s armchairs, he is at attention.

He gets up, fluidly, as if he never was two minutes away from drooling on your desk, and walks towards you. He stops from a moment in front of you, swishing tail cutting the air behind him, with his languid eyes fixed on yours.

Then he just plops on the left armrest, almost crumbling in your lap, stretching one of his arms behind the backseat, with the hand of the other searching for your palm. Afterwards, seemingly content to remain perched on the furniture in such an unlikely posture, he lands his head atop yours and let out a content sigh against your forehead.

You’re stuck there, flabbergasted, confused and quite possibly also a little tiny bit flustered.

Anticipating your questions, Jimin mutters: “Can’t trust the office chair for naps.”

“Ehm,” you intelligently answer him, before pointing out: “There is another unoccupied armchair identical to this one precisely beside us.”

“Mmh-mmh,” he murmurs, pushing his head even harder against yours. Now it seems he’s actively trying to headbutt you.

Since what you’ve just told him appears bereft of any interest in his eyes, you try another approach: “Also, I’m still sweaty and gross.”

Jimin crowd you even more at that, letting his nose trail against your temple and cheek, before nudging against your throat. He breaths evenly for a little while, but just when you start to ponder if he just fell asleep on you, he sighs on your skin, searing it hot with his breath and your blush.

“You don’t smell gross, trust me,” he assures you in a whisper.

After that, twenty minutes go by inexorably slow and breathlessly fast.

You are half an hour into your singing session, struggling to not get frustrated every time you have to restart, when in the corner of your eye you see the door hitch open and a fluffy tail appears.

Jimin sneaks into the adjourning room accompanied by manager Lee. While the hybrid wastes no time before sitting on the couch, eyes pointed at you through the glass, Jeong-hoon nods in your direction just once, places a couple of documents on the low-end table in front of the sofa and takes his leave.

You don’t have time to ogle Jimin for very long, for you devote all your concentration to the session. Kang Eunseo is a kind coach, but she wants her demands to be met: she likes to pretend you’re already recording when you sing with her, so she books the recording studio and goes back and forth between the live and control room. She is a professional through and through, focused in her craft and in continuing to better your voice; she doesn’t spare even a glance to the new visitor, and simply walks around him, instructing you.

Since you don’t wish to be reprimanded nor do you want to be a source of disappointment, you keep your focus until the end. And even if you’re conscious of his presence, somehow he doesn’t discompose you as he did when he was beside you in the gym.

It’s when the clock is signalling 7 P.M. and your workday is officially over, that Ms Kang points out at the hybrid with her head and gives a chuckle.

Jimin is leaning against the couch’s arm, head tilted back and eyes closed. His lips are barely open, like a flower bud about to bloom, and even his tail, curled on his lap, is still. You turn off the lights in the live room, closing the door behind you; once you reach him you start to hear his low purrs.

Eunseo dons her jacket and shakes her long ponytail free from her backpack straps, then she bids you farewell with a silent wave and a slight smile. She tries to leave inconspicuously, but you both know how heavy is the door of the recording studio, and the noises are inevitable: even still, his ears don’t twitch when the coach takes her leave.

That must be a good nap, you think. You know you’re smiling, and you also know there’s no use to hold it back.

You sit beside him and for a while, you two remain there. How does Jimin look early in the morning, swaddled in his soft blankets, with the rising sun shining on his golden locks is still something you could only imagine. But now, even if it’s under the cold lights of a windowless room, even if he must be hardly comfortable with his head pushed so far back, he still paints such a pretty picture. He’s even smiling in his sleep, making you itch to know what his dreams consist of.

He’s irresistible, and you know you aren’t doing yourself any favours by staying there, watching him enraptured, looking and acting like a creep. But you don’t have the strength to wake him up.

You have finished with your day, yes, and usually that meant a mad dash to go back home, to bask in the sweet loneliness of an empty place, to decompress and breath more easily. Just to start all over again. It’s uncharacteristic of you, this wish to remain longer. You send a text to your assigned driver, telling him not to wait for you.

Feeling awkward and not wanting to make Jimin uncomfortable, you divert your eyes and, by chance, you glance at the documents Lee left behind. Glad of the distraction, you lean over to take them in your hands, and those soon sober up any giddiness you were experiencing.

It seems he’s already done his homework: here is the paperwork you’ll have to bring to the city hall to formalize what you’ve done yesterday. There’s a printed copy of the Acquisition of Hybrid lease you signed, other two forms – already filled in, because of course, Jeong-hoon won’t leave anything up to chance – full of “I, the undersigned” and things you’ll have to accept so that, once you’ll give them Jimin’s temporary documents, they’ll hand you back the Certificate of Adoption. And on his ID there’ll be written your name, too, under the label of ‘Guardian’.

There’s also a yellow sticky note, that reads: “You have a work permit for Friday, starting 2 P.M.”

So here you have it, the day in question. You won’t be able to turn back from that, it’ll be truly official. His future will depend on you, on what you’ll do to help him achieve what he set his eyes on and on how you’ll help him navigate this troublesome world.

You return to look at him, admiring his soft features and lean figure, for a couple more minutes. Sighing, you get up to put the documents in your discarded purse. There’s no use remaining here, keeping watch over him, stressing over the inevitable. You know you’re going to be a nerve-wracking mess the day of, but you’ll gladly spare yourself the anxiousness, for now.

Luckily, you have an idea to distract yourself. Jimin and Lee must have done their grocery shopping as well, and they must have stored everything in your private office, downstairs. Sparing a last glance at the snoozing hybrid, you leave the recording studio.

As you suspected yesterday, you aren’t much of a cook. After retrieving the ingredients that looked like they would withstand better your mistreatment, you made use of the communal kitchen reserved for the higher-ups. There, sure of the privacy, you required and with nothing else to lose but your dignity, you got to work.

Currently, you’re in front of the recording studio’s door, facing a struggle. See, you’ve been good: you’ve put your pan-fried vegetables on two plates with a couple of vegan hamburgers, then got them on a plastic tray together with the two bowls of Korean chicken soup and two closed bottles of water. Your taste tests while you cooked everything told you the food was edible, so you took a fortifying breath and decided to face Jimin’s judgment.

You managed to take the elevator, not even you are quite sure how, but the heavy door you’re currently braving is another matter altogether. A saviour comes to rescue you unexpectedly when someone opens it on the other side.

“Oh, thank you, Jimin,” you empathetically burst, ready to enter and place the heavy tray on the low-end table in front of the couch. What you didn’t expect was his reaction.

“You’re here!” He exclaims back to you, sounding surprised and relieved at the same time. His ears are pushed down against his head and his tail is all puffed up, as it was yesterday when he unexpectedly found those fans with you, in the shop.

He looks eager, as if he’s a moment away from jumping on you, but even in his confusion and panic, he still manages to notice you’re struggling, and comes to your help. Jimin takes the tray from your hands, hurrying inside to put it down, all the while continuing to turn his head back to look at you, as if to check your presence.

You follow him inside, closing the door, wondering why your hybrid – with eyes still crusted with sleep and a veritable, adorable bedhead – is more agitated than a mother of four kids, who has risen late and has little time to waste.

“You fell asleep, so I went to prepare us dinner after I was done with the training,” you hear yourself say, trying to justify your absence. You tentatively sit on the couch.

“Yes, yes of course,” he answers promptly, but he appears mollified by your explanation, and he immediately relaxes once he takes his place beside you.

Silence settles once again: on your part, you don’t know how to waddle through the tension in order to start a conversation, and Jimin appears completely fine steaming in the lingering awkwardness. So you watch him start to eat, munching on the passable food you gifted him. At least he’s not grimacing while he gulps down his bites, so you tentatively count it as a win.

But his behaviour doesn’t escape your notice: he keeps glancing at you every few minutes, progressively getting antsier, nevermind the fact that he’s trying to scoot towards you with all the nonchalance he’s able to exert. His efforts are in vain, for the leather material of the sofa squeaks and groans his displeasure each time he fidgets in your direction. And the strangest thing of all is that he keeps twitching his nose: you’d think he’s caught a cold with the amount of sniffing that’s going on.

You’re halfway done with your meal when Jimin quietly slurp down the remaining broth in his bowl and place it down. He sends you another zealous look and then, seems to come to a decision. A blink later, the hybrid slides towards you, closing the distance, before proceeding to rest his head against your shoulder, eyes closed.

You’re getting better at this, after a full day around him, you think, because you freeze for just a couple of moments, before relaxing. You even nudge against him, letting out a breathless laugh.

“Are you still sleepy?” You ask.

“Yep,” Jimin answers you blandly, seeking out your warmth by pushing his face near your neck. You can almost see by a third point perspective the blush that’s raising on your throat, and you certainly feel the heat spreading underneath your skin, lighting you up.

You push a piece of spinach around, wondering how in the world are you supposed to eat when you’ve got someone plastered to your side, breathing in and out against you, nuzzling his head with his soft ears pressed against your jaw.

“So,” you begin, trying to not get distracted by the way Jimin hums to let you know he’s listening. You swear you can feel his soft lips glance your skin. “How was your grocery shopping?”

A lame question. Something that is obviously not really what you’re currently thinking about. You expect him to laugh at you, but he gives a pause.

“It went well,” he says, at last, sounding bashful.

The hybrid doesn’t offer anything else, and you’re left with a vague curiosity. Did manager Lee say something out of line? Did they even talk, or was it just a painful, boring and tiring outing?

Quiet descends once more. In the next ten minutes, you try to finish your meal without disturbing him, a question or two get asked and answered by turn, whenever either of you remember something you wanted to know.

At last, you can’t withstand it anymore.

Jimin’s warm and soft, gentle in the way he still has most of his weight off you, only placing his side, shoulder and head against you. But the prolonged contact starts to be overbearing. He keeps pushing his nose against the hollow of your throat, to then follow a line that snakes towards your ear where, invariably, his pillow-soft lips end up brushing against the lobe. He sighs, he inspires so keenly it seems he’s taking his last breath before taking a plunge in the dark ocean and then, in the last couple of minutes, he started to purr as well.

It’s agony.

“C’mon,” you strain to say, mustering up the courage to get up. Jimin almost slides sideways once you raise, but in a fluid motion, he regains his balance. He looks up at you questioningly, with a petulant pout on his plump lips. He doesn’t look sleepy, at all.

You resist the urge to gulp. “Let’s go home,” you smile at him, offering your hand.

He halts his sulking at a moment notice, promptly capturing your palm against his.

“Mmh, let’s,” he acquiesces.

After spending the whole elevator ride reassuring him you won’t disappear and leave him behind, you briefly separate ways: you go back to the communal kitchen to place what you used in the dishwasher and he goes to retrieve the grocery in your office.

You meet back at the hall, where he insists on carrying it, even if the sleepiness is back and his eyelids are half-closed. “I’m right here, let me do it,” he pleads, so you don’t insist, even if the taxi you called takes its sweet time before arriving.

Perhaps you fell asleep on the journey back, because everything is a blur: you know you must have tipped the taxi driver, you’re pretty sure you greeted the concierge and you definitely also managed to open the door to your flat.

You know that because you’re in the kitchen, surrounded by plastic bags, busy putting away product after product, directing Jimin in what cupboard goes that one thing and scrubbing your eyes to fight against the urge to just fall asleep against the sink.

Usually, you have complete faith in Lee. But the hours of training he scheduled for you did a number on you: you can feel now how sore your muscles are, the numbness seeping out all the energy you’d usually have, because honestly, it’s still quite early in the evening. You’re 24, and you feel like an elderly woman who strained herself too much by taking a lengthy walk.

If tomorrow I wake up with an excruciating back pain…, you ominously think to yourself, while you go in the living room to place the cleaning products on the table, in plain sight. You dare them to disappear.

You give a little stretch, wondering… maybe you could find the time to luxuriate in a bath, before preparing to leave for work. Full of bubbles, with your favourite scents, hot and with classical music coming from the speakers of your phone.

The thought is lovely enough, so with your spirit somewhat restored, you turn back to Jimin. He followed you like a duckling, and now he blinks back at you, tail whishing lazily behind him.

You can’t resist the smile his adorableness calls forth. “Let’s go to sleep early, so we’ll be ready to face the day.”

Jimin walks to you, push forward his hand in a silent gesture, and follows you once you have it clasped in yours. You guide him to his room, already compiling a list in your head of the things left to do before you can rest: brush your teeth, check on the emails, tend an ear on the gossip mill…

“’night, Jiminie,” you tell him, halfheartedly suppressing a yawn. You give his hand a last squeeze and then you let go, walking to your room.

As a human being, your actions can be founded on fallacies. Right now, for example, you are acting on the wrong belief that you’ve done everything you had to do. You ate dinner, returned home in one place where you put things in their places and you bid your flatmate to sleep well, and now you can go back to focus on yourself.

Until yesterday, that would’ve been logical.

But your roommate isn’t an introvert, a temporary guest, wishing for the same things you want, and after such a busy day, half spent away from you a ‘’night, Jiminie’ just isn’t cutting it for him.

He teaches you that lesson at once.

You don’t even manage to open your bedroom’s door, because the moment you go to push the handle down, a palm appears on the doorframe. For a moment you look at it without understanding, because you didn’t even hear his steps, so all you register is: there’s a hand on my door?

A split second later you’re the one almost plastered to your door, trying to comprehend what’s going on. You’re trapped between the solid wood in front of you and the likewise firm body of the cat hybrid from behind. Just like that morning, you feel his breath on the back of your neck, but it seems this isn’t enough: his lips soon follow, brushing the tingling skin, tracing a path to one of your ears.

Deliriously you wonder what’s his deal with your them and the whole of your throat, too. Nevermind your wrists.

Because while he puffs there, nuzzling his head against yours, his other hand sweep down your side, skipping your wristwatch until he reaches your palm, soft fingers stroking your inner wrist as if he’s trying to clean a non-existent stain.

Then in his groggy voice, Jimin whispers to you: “A night isn’t enough. I want you to dream of me all the time.”

He raises the hand he’s got in his hold and you vaguely catch his profile from the corner of your eye when he reaches over your shoulder to kiss the palm. His lips are searing hot against your cold skin, and for a crazy moment, you think he just branded you with them.

The hybrid turns his head, holding your palm against his cheek, wanting you to cup his face. In the dark hallway, all you can see are his hazel eyes, lidded but sharp, pointed right at you. It should be an uncomfortable position (any possibly existing diety be merciful, you were internally complaining about sore muscles just ten minutes and an eternity ago and now–), but the only thing you’re aware of is him.

“Even if you do, even if you manage to think of me and meet me in your dreams, it won’t be enough to catch up to me, you know?” Jimin tells you in an undertone, as if he’s a conspirator sharing dangerous, life-changing secrets. You would compare the feeling to be akin to what a priest in a confessional must experience when he’s hearing the most shocking admissions – but your emotions aren’t quite what a man of faith should endure. “I want to spend all the time with you, with your attention on me. And since you’re such a busy hardworking woman, naps have just got even better for me.”

You’re struggling to follow his sentences, him asking you to discern the meaning behind them is too much. What could make a nap look even better for a cat hybrid? And where do you enter the equation in that?

Jimin nears you, and you swear you feel his pillowy lips brush against your cheek when he goes to whisper in your ear: “There I can be with you.”

“Oh,” you breath out, as if he truly swooped your feet from beneath you and showed the meaning behind a troublesome problem that plagued your existence until then.

He delicately leaves your hand, nuzzles his head a last time against yours and then you feel his chest, his warmth, break away from your back; he leaves you with a sweet, innocent: “Goodnight.”

You don’t even hear him retreating, and you notice he’s gone only when the door of his room opens and closes. While it doesn’t give you any credit, you must admit that you remain there, staring blankly in front of you, for a couple more minutes.

Then, frazzled, almost senseless, you go to your bedroom as well.

Did he do all… that, just because he was dissatisfied with the way you bid him goodnight? Did he want to be reassured you’d dream of him again? Was he just feeling like it? Did it mean anything to him?

You scramble to think back on the list of things to do that was so clear cut in your mind, following its directives numbly. You try not to watch your face in the mirror when you brush your teeth, because yes, your face is on fire, your eyes are shiny as if your soul is grappling to find an outlet to glint through. Your emails would bore you to tears, but there are so many mentioning ‘the new asset’ and ‘the cat hybrid you and Manager Lee acquired’ and ‘legal documents regarding your companion’, that you skim through them at best. Social media are even worse: everywhere you go you find the photos you took with those fans plastered, cut to show only you and Jimin, smiling, holding each other.

You set your alarms and leave your phone to recharge.

Laying in your bed, at barely 10 P.M., the sweet detergent on your soft pyjamas trying to fight off the lingering scent which you’ve come to associate with Jiminie in a day and a half of being acquaintances. Still reeling from the strong emotions he makes you go through, every brush against your hyperaware body that mean so much to you and that maybe for him are less than nothing.

If he’d have been taken in by anyone else, would he have acted the same?

You turn off the lights and curl yourself, bringing the covers up, over your head.

You tell yourself it’s a moot argument: he’s here with you. He just told you, and in a manner that was all but conviction itself, he had dreamt of you all day long, whenever he took a nap. In the gym between busy exercises, sprawled on the nearest bench, when he wasn’t watching you intently. After lunch, when he sat against you on the armchair, saying you didn’t smell gross (that was a fat lie, you can’t imagine otherwise) and purring loudly. Even when you were done with your vocal training and you watched him sleep on the couch, his head tilted back, and you were wondering what he was smiling about, he was dreaming of you.

You groan against your pillow, closing your eyes tight. You’re going to think about that every time you’ll see him sleeping, you just know it.

Did he do it on purpose? Does he want you to wonder, constantly, what’s going on in his head?

He told you he gets random bursts of energy during the night, and you can’t help but wonder if he also gets bolder with his tiredness, if you’re destined to battle against his suaveness every time the sun goes down.

No matter how much you try to force yourself to focus on anything else, it’s an exercise in futility, and you fall asleep still thinking of Jimin.

If you liked it, please Reblog and Comment!

Your support would truly help me and I’d like to hear from you!

Thank you so, so much for reading all that, and for waiting for the update. It took half my life to write it, and while there are some bits that I really love, others seem lacking to my eyes. Even still, I didn't want to overthink too much.

A remainder: English is not my first language, so please tell me if you notice any blatant mistakes. Also, I copied and pasted everything and double-checked, but there might be some words put together where there should be a space in between: please ignore it? I'll re-read the chapter ten more time, eventually, and fix it.

Two things, before I leave you.

Jimin leaves you to have his tour with manager Lee. This you??

Ok, it's not a question, it's a fact. That was you. Can't blame you ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Also, the stretching scene should have reminded you of this:

Lastly, the dear, sweet people who asked to be tagged:

@4evahevah @sevenpersona @cloverblogs @thedyingwriter

Thank you, see you soon~ (｡●́‿●̀｡)

[phoenixyfriend]

👀 PLease tell us your thoughts about the Jedi babies re-growing up among different cultural contexts.

Oh fuck okay

Context: original post, chrono The specific post this ask is referencing: here

Summary of the AU: Disaster lineage got tossed back in time. Anakin stayed 21-ish, but Obi-Wan and Ahsoka got deaged, took new names for time-travel reasons (Ylliben and Sokanth, or Ben and Soka), are now staying with the True Mandalorians under Jaster Mereel because the Force said to, go back to the Temple after about a decade. They grabbed Shmi about three months after arriving.

So as far as the cultural background goes, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka had similar upbringings. She spent a few years on Shili first, but both spent the majority of their childhoods up to age 13/14 being raised in the creche. So that's the basis that they would default to, in a vacuum.

Nobody is raised in a vacuum.

Along with the Jedi cultural background, they're being raised by Tatooine natives in a Mandalorian environment.

Shmi and Anakin are both former slaves who have desert survival baked into their bones. The longer Anakin spends around her, the more his accent slips, the more he talks about old folktales, the more he uses idioms that don't exist on a cityplanet like Coruscant. All the things that he tamped down to be a Jedi come floating back to the surface, and Shmi's never known anything else. Anakin's knowledge of slave customs make her feel more comfortable, which in turn makes him feel better, and so on.

Mandalore is just... the culture they're living in. You don't grow up in a new culture with a new language without picking up on it personally. (Source: I moved to the US when I was a little under two years old.)

I think the thing I'm going to focus on as an example is the way each of these cultures approaches family, and then maybe how they approach the keeping of peace/what peace means.

Jedi: Where you come from means little, only the legacy you leave behind in your students. Mandalore: You protect your clan and your children; adoption is a major cultural value, if not actually practiced consistently. Tatooine: You can lose your family at any time, so you value what you have in all its forms. You don’t forget where and who you came from, to family of blood and family of choice alike. You cling to your memories and what little you still have of them, to what your master cannot take away.

These are all valid ways to approach family, and each of these approaches can have significant meaning to different people. But they do all, to a certain degree, conflict with one another, despite all three being fairly communal cultures.

The Jedi have a culture, one that’s built on a shared ability and religion over thousands of years. It’s not just an organization, but a continuous community with legends and traditions and art and records. But it’s one that is built on new blood coming in from the outside, volunteers who join because the religion speaks to them (near literally, given the nature of Force Sensitivity), given up by families who couldn’t or wouldn’t teach them in a way that let their talents flourish instead of pushing it all down.

For the Jedi, a culture built on people coming together due to something they have in common intrinsically that their families of blood do not, it makes sense to put emphasis on letting go of that past when they can, and to place importance on teaching lineages. It’s not just the official master-padawan pairs, either, but that’s the most obvious and easily paralleled element. Moreover, a lot of the Jedi culture is about gaining knowledge, so obviously spreading it is good, and also on supporting the galaxy to make it a better place; to view the Jedi order as a heavily communal culture would make sense, since their values are all about selfless betterment of the universe, which on a larger scale is about the galactic conflicts, but on a smaller scale is about supporting their own community, the children and the ill and elderly.

So that is the specific culture that Obi-Wan and Ahsoka grew up in, one that holds blood family as relevant but not particularly crucial to one’s identity, but is structured so people leave behind legacies through education in a manner that often becomes adoptive family (depending on your definition, I guess). Jedi are encouraged to connect to their home cultures, if not their families, with practices like the coming of age hunt for Togruta leading to the young Jedi taking a trip out to Shili to engage in that cultural milestone. This can also be viewed as a way for the Jedi to maintain personal connections to the wider universe, a (not entirely successful, but certainly attempted) way of keeping them from becoming too isolated and insular from the universe at large, and losing touch from what the galaxy actually needs of them.

They’re now growing up with two cultures that do place emphasis on blood and found family.

Mandalore, as presented in The Mandalorian, has their traditional values set as being heavily associated with their armor, battle skills, and childcare. While that’s clearly a set of values that aren’t actually followed by everyone with full sincerity, we can assume that these stated cultural values do have at least some impact on the way the society is structured, since we do see more traditional characters (Jaster, Din) adopt orphaned children and then have the Mandalorian elements of their immediate circles support that claim.

(We’ll ignore Jango and the whole clone army thing because the amount of Sith influence is up for debate and also holy trauma, Batman.)

However, we also see that a lot of Mandalorian culture is built on their family histories. On the New Mandalorian side, we see emphasis placed on the fact that Satine is House Kryze and that she’s a duchess. Her bloodline is relevant, though not the most important thing about her. On the Death Watch side, we have Pre and Tor placing emphasis on the fact that they’re Clan Vizsla, descended from Tarre, that this is important to why they deserve what the darksaber represents, this is part of why they not only deserve to lead, but should for the good of Mandalore.

Bo-Katan’s armor is a family heirloom. Boba’s armor was Jango’s, but before being Jango’s, it was Jaster’s. Armor is important enough to pass to family, but the family can be adopted. This all tracks.

The resol’nare specifies loyalty and care for the clan/tribe among the six tenets.

These two elements seem relatively well-balanced: the importance of adoption and the importance of family as a larger unit on the level of a house or clan.

And then you have Tatooine, which also balances blood and adoption, but for entirely different reasons, that being this: it can always be taken from you.

For all that a Mandalorian could historically expect their family to die in battle, and a Jedi could expect to lose their master the same way if things went poorly, those were usually choices. A Mandalorian was raised to walk into battle, and then they could make that choice to do so. It wasn’t often much of a choice, but they could feasibly turn their back and choose to be a farmer or a doctor or something, and support the people who went out to do battle instead of being the one on the field themselves. A Jedi could choose to be a healer or an archivist or join one of the Corps.

A slave does not get that choice. A slave can be killed or sold on a whim from their master. It’s not a one-time trauma, but an ever-present fear. Your parent, your child, your sibling, your spouse, all of them can be separated from you at any time. You can always lose them, and you have no choice but to grin and bear it, or try to run and die before you reach freedom.

In a context like that, I imagine Tatooine places a very heavy emphasis on family, both of blood and of choice, and on treasuring what you have while you have it. A person is always aware that they can lose whoever they have in their life, and so they make the most of their times together, have clear and consistent ways of expressing that love (I imagine primarily direct verbal confirmations and physical contact, practical gifts like water and fruit). Childcare is important, elders are venerated. Those who survived that far have valuable wisdom, and the children are to be given what happiness they can have before reality wipes that ability from them.

The family ‘networks’ among Tatooine slaves are smaller and tighter knit. There’s less trust for outsiders, but once you’re in, you’re in until you are taken away. Still, families are torn apart regularly, and often can’t contact each other after being separated if they’re sold far enough away, so families stay small because they’re always being broken up. Unlike Mandalore’s tribe/clan system, or the Jedi’s wide, loosely-structured community, Tatooine’s slaves form smaller groups that cling for as long as they can, and try to support each other. (There are selfish ones, of course, especially the newbies, but... well. Most try.)

Tatooine is also much more likely to assign a familial role (e.g. referring to an elder as ‘grandmother’). It’s not uncommon in the others (multiple Jedi refer to their masters as a parent or sibling, like Anakin’s “you’re like a father to me” line), but it’s not as baked-in that such a role should be given.

So on a structural level, we have two people from a community culture with little emphasis on blood family or formal familial roles are now being raised in a community that has them asking “what can you do for the people around you first, and then the wider world?” by people who tell them “your family, blood and found, is the most important thing you have; never let anyone take more from you than they possibly can.”

And that shit has an effect.

For all that Sokanth and Ylliben were once raised with a knowledge that their duty, their goal, was to better the galaxy as a whole, they are now being told that the community that raises them asks their loyalty back, because societies are built on support networks, and if you support the tribe, it will support you. There are parallels to that kind of thinking among Jedi, because it is basic social theory, but it’s not presented as the same kind of cultural value. It’s not given as something to strive for, just a basic fact.

This, for instance, means that once they’re back at the Temple, they have a tendency towards suggesting study groups and other ways of supporting people in their immediate circle, often structured in very unfamiliar ways. Again, this isn’t uncommon among Jedi, but it’s not done in the same way, or with the same emphasis. The Jedi also often approach problem-solving in a different order, so the step of “meditate on it and you may find your solution” often comes before “gather information from people who know more about it than you do,” while Ben and Soka have by this point learned to do it the other way around, because that’s what the Mandalorian system taught them: rely on your family first.

Meanwhile, the Tatooine element of their upbringing has them being much more willing to just... casually refer to ‘my dad’ and ‘my sister’ and so on. They use those words. It’s not just “my master is like a father to me,” but “this is my father.” They don’t hesitate to talk about the family they had and still have in Mandalorian space. None of the Jedi begrudge them it, really, but it’s always a shock to hear for the first time, and between the Tatooine refusal to pretend the connection is gone and the Mandalorian tendency to err on the side of roughhousing as affection, they’re just... odd. It’s not like none of the other Jedi know family outside the Order--some of the old books had Obi-Wan visiting his brother on Stewjon once in a while--or like none of the active Jedi are loud or boisterous, but the specific manner in which Soka and Ben interact with the Order, especially when their dad is around, is very weird.

More Soka than Ben, really, but that’s mostly just because Ben’s a very quiet person until he gets a little older, so it’s harder to notice on him.

Point is, while they still hold to their duty to the wider galaxy and will continue to keep that duty above almost anything else in their lives, the way they talk and act about the subject of family, especially in private, is heavily influenced by their new cultures.

This is already very long but I promised I’d talk about peace so let’s go:

The Jedi seek peace as an absence of war and conflict in the portion of the galaxy under their purview, in hopes that they will prevent as much suffering and death as they can.

The Mandalorians are varied, but Jaster Mereel’s group (which is the community the Skywalkers are with) is likely to view peace as unrealistic to achieve in the long term. They do not seek war, but they know the world they live in, and are prepared to protect against violence as their first resort. They always expect an attack, even if they don’t seek it.

The Slaves of Tatooine view peace as the calm in a storm. It is the status quo. Nobody has escaped tonight, for the guards aren’t searching, but neither is anyone dead. The Master you have is in a good enough mood to not sell you, to not kill you, to not beat you. Peace as an absence of suffering is impossible, so you seek for your master to be peaceful, that is to say: not raging at you.

The scope of each of these narrows significantly. From the known galaxy, to the wars that meet Mandalorian space, to the household one serves.

A community like the Jedi can choose to address peace as something to be sought on a large scale as an absence of war. They primarily function within the borders of the Republic, which has its problems but is largely structured to prevent such things from occurring until the Sith interfere. The Jedi have a structure that allows them to address peace as an ideal to be sought, at least within the borders of the territory they serve.

Mandalore, meanwhile, has been at war on and off for... ever. When they are not at war with themselves, they’re at war with someone else. ‘Peace’ is just the time between wars, and they know that if they do not attack first, they will be forced to defend. Jaster Mereel was known as the Reformer, and part of that was that instituting a code of honor, one that was intended to prevent Mandalorian warriors from acting as raiders and brigands, but rather acting as honorable hired soldiers, or taking roles such as the Journeyman Protectors. Given that, I imagine that he views war as something inevitable, but also something that can be mitigated.

War doesn’t touch Tatooine.

Oh, it might raise taxes and import rates. It might prevent visitors who come for the races. It can do a lot of things.

But to a slave, these are nothing. The only thing war does is affect the master, the person who chooses when their slaves get water, when they get beaten, when they are no longer useful enough to keep around or keep alive.

The peace of a slave’s live is dictated by how much abuse they are subjected to by the person who owns them.

What this means for Soka and Ben is... well, they are viewed as war-hungry by the people who don’t know them very well. They have armor. They focus on fighting, both with and without their sabers. They know tactics better than most masters. They claim that war is coming, and don’t seem too sad about it.

(It is a fact to them. War will come. All they can do is meet it. They’ve already done their mourning once.)

They also... well, Shmi tells them things in hidden corners. How to duck their head to hide the hate or fear in their eyes. How to watch for the anger in the tendons of a hand. The laugh of someone who enjoys the pain they’ve caused, not just the adrenaline of a fight. She is free, and so are they, but she has not forgotten how to hide in the shadows until the master’s ire has turned elsewhere. How to be small and quiet and unseen until the danger passes.

A Jedi’s first resort is words. Their second is their saber. But the Jeedai hold their heads high, and the Mandalorians do the same.

“You rely on the Force, and you have your pride,” she tells them, her hands on their own. “But there will come a time when you will not be able to remind people that you are free. You will not be able to say that you are a person, that you deserve the respect of a living sentient. Perhaps it will be a politician who treats everyone like that. Perhaps you will be captured by an enemy. Perhaps you will be undercover. You will not be able to fight, with words or with weapons, and you will have to know how to survive.”

Tatooine does not have peace. Tatooine only has survival.

And while Jedi fight for the survival and peace of the universe, they are refined and composed. Mando’ade fight like warriors of old, and Tatooine slaves fight like cornered, rabid anooba.

The galaxy comes first, but when the chips are down and the Sith come out to play, Soka and Ben do not need refinement, because they know how to toss aside their pride and live.

[celestialarchon]

Celebrating 600+ Followers

i can’t believe i’m writing another celebration post less than two days after my first

this has been rotting in my head all day and might become a series in the future

Genshin Impact x F!Reader | Modernish AU | warning: it’s cute!

“I hope you don’t mind, we gave you a student teacher as well. It’s only fair since you were given the most troublesome class,” Headmistress Ping smiled at you warmly.

“Ah,” You nodded, “Thats fine.”

The elder woman patted your back, “Genshin Academy is truly lucky to have you. Your track record is impressive and you have an extremely rare vision. I think you’ll get along fairly well with Mr. Aether, he’s a good kid.”

You smiled at her, honored by her words. Genshin Academy, the elite and prestigious school, had taken you as a teacher. The education system was impressive and diverse, teaching elementary to college aged students. You were given the first year elementary school students and now a student teacher as well. No matter how troublesome the class may be, having assistance would be appreciated. If it didn’t, the extraordinary pay would make up for any issues you had.

The older woman walked you to the doors of the building and then left you to prepare yourself. Clutching your class roster, you stepped in and made your way to your classroom. When you entered your room, you were greeted by a young blonde man. He introduced himself as your assistant teacher and made some small talk before leaving you to prepare for the day. You appreciated his thoughtfulness as you tidied the room up a bit, smiling at your class pet, Dvalin.

Soon enough, the children poured in and greeted each other and you. Aether returned to the room, beaming at each child. You took attendance, ticking off each name as they all answered. Qiqi, Teucer, Klee, and Diona seemed to be the most lively of them all. They were also marked with asterisks as the worst “troublemakers” but so far things were running smoothly.

“Welcome, my name is Miss Bright,” You beamed at the children, “Let’s have a good year, okay?”

“Wow, you’re very pretty Miss Bright!” An energetic Teucer exclaimed.

Klee squealed, “I’m so excited!”

Diona scoffed and Qiqi nodded in agreement. You went through the motions, following your detailed curriculum perfectly. There were two separate general subjects, academics and control. One was simple enough, teaching the kids by the book. The other was all about assisting your students in controlling and growing their abilities as vision users.

By the end of the day you were exhausted. Soon enough the week flew by. As Friday came, you were exhausted. Most people had made these kids out to be terrible and mischievous, and in some ways they were. Yet, you had already grown very fond of all of them. They were much more tame than you had expected, save for some explosions and outbursts. Now you were stuck as some of the children were late being picked up.

“I hope my big brother gets a girlfriend like Miss Bright. She’s so nice and pretty.” You overheard Teucer whisper to the last three kids.

“Oh yeah!” Klee’s whispers weren’t whispers at all, “She’s like a princess. My brother is a prince. I wish he’d marry Miss Bright.”

“Tch,” Diona intervened, “Honestly, I wish Miss Bright had adopted me instead of that annoying man at home.”

“Qiqi thinks Xiao and Zhongli would like Miss Bright a lot.”

You giggled at their words, they were too sweet. Aether chuckled overhearing them as well and waving you off.

“Go finish up your paperwork, I’ll take care of them.” The cheerful blonde nearly pushed you out the door.

You sighed and made your way to the office up front. Paperwork was such a drag, not nearly as fun as over hearing those brats gossiping. The paperwork ended up taking up the rest of your time. By the time you were done you wanted to scream. As you left the office, a handful of coworkers approached you and invited you out. No was not an option as they insisted you let them treat you.

You were exhausted as they led you to their favorite bar. Aether followed like a lost puppy and you sighed.

“You can’t drink can you?” You questioned him.

“Ahhh,” Aether started but was interrupted.

“It’s fine! I know the owner. He doesn’t have to drink he can just babysit us.” Venti exclaimed.

Poor Aether couldn’t get out of it either. Once you entered the bar, things blurred. Immediately, your coworkers bought you many drinks. Venti was especially aggressive about drinking. The short music teacher was babbling to an extremely handsome bartender with vibrant red hair.

The scarlet haired man seemed to be a bit annoyed by the drunken chaos ensuing. Amber was giggling crazily and the school nurse, Baizhu had cornered a tall man with amber eyes, and Ganyu was petting you. Aether was awkwardly fidgeting, stone cold sober. Eventually, your poor student teacher ended up having to call a cab and carry you home. He was forced to try and navigate to your cozy apartment by unlocking your phone with your drunken face. It took way too many attempts.

You awoke the next day with a pounding headache and over a hundred notifications. The night was still a blur so you proceeded to try and take care of yourself. Aether was kind enough to go out and buy you some pain medicine and left it on your counter with your keys. It was embarrassing how you couldn’t find any memories of your adventures in liquor.

The weekend flew by until Sunday night came and your phone buzzed. You looked down and horror filled your body. Tomorrow was parent conferences. It wasn’t mandatory for parents but encouraged. Suddenly, you were tearing through your apartment trying to prepare for the upcoming doom.

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

Before you knew it, parent conferences were upon you. Aether wasn’t attending because it wasn’t mandatory and you insisted he go home and rest. He had done so much for you already, you didn’t want him to suffer through it with you. You looked up as somebody knocked on your class door and opened it to see two beautiful blondes.

“Hello, is this Miss Bright’s room?” The woman’s blue eyes met yours.

“Yes,” You held your hand out, “Hello, I’m Miss Bright.”

The woman shook your hand, “I am Jean, Klee’s guardian. This is her older brother Albedo.”

The young man’s beautiful eyes bore into you as he shook your hand. You stepped aside and gestured to the tables in your room. The two took their seats and almost immediately a tall red haired man sauntered up to you.

“Hello!” His tone was cheerful, “I’m Childe, Teucer’s older brother!”

“A pleasure to meet you, Childe. I am Miss Bright.”

“Ah,” a crooked smile formed on his lips, “The pleasure is all mine. You are just as beautiful as Teucer claimed.”

You blushed and laughed nervously, but before you could answer he was shoved into your room. He turned to glare at the two dark haired men in the doorway. Huffing, he found his way to a table and sat.

“So annoying.” The shorter of the two men scowled.

The taller one sighed, “Hello, Miss Bright. My name is Zhongli, and this is my cousin Xiao. We are Qiqi’s foster family.”

Xiao stomped past you, Zhongli followed him quickly. You didn’t have time to introduce yourself to either of them before they sat down.

“How rude,” A smooth voice came from your door.

Two men stood there, a tan man with dark hair and a very familiar red head. Internally, you groaned at the sight of the bartender. It was going to be a long conference wasn’t it? You were glad you had organized your agenda so well.

“Diluc. Guardian of Diona, and this is my brother Kaeya.” The redhead said almost sternly.

He strolled through the doorway to sit at a table, all four families spread out. Kaeya winked at you and followed his brother. Now you were sure the night would be long.

No other families came, and you were left alone with the strange bunch. In the back of your mind, you were thinking of your roster and the asterisks. The irony in all of it was that the troublemaker’s parents were the only ones who showed. The room was quiet, families only talking among themselves. You cleared your throat and introduced yourself once more, starting in to your very planned speech.

A short time had passed but it felt like years to you. You felt incredibly awkward but continued on. Childe raised his hand which nearly made you laugh but you contained your amusement and paused.

“Yes?” You called out to him.

The lanky man smirked, “I’m sorry but what sort of vision do you use?”

“I will address that later on.” Your voice was kind but also stern.

This response earned several looks from the families listening. All of a sudden, their full attention was on you. The change of atmosphere had put you on edge. You tried to continue on but Childe stood abruptly.

“That’s an interesting response.” He chuckled.

“Tartaglia!” Jean intervened, “Thats enough.”

Kaeya kicked his feet up on the table, “You can’t say you’re not curious though, right? It’s only natural we want to know. This school has just as much focus on vision skills as academic skills.”

You were beginning to grow irritated. The children were more respectful than the adults. Composing yourself, you sighed. Nobody denied Kaeya’s words, although Zhongli and Jean seemed to disapprove of the attitude.

“As i said before i will-“ you were interrupted again by an arrow of water, you easily side stepped it.

Jean stood, sword in hand and glared at Childe. Diluc shoved his brother’s feet off the table and scowled. Albedo yawned while Xiao clicked his tongue. Zhongli merely observed the scene. Childe cackled at Jean which only angered her more as she dove at him.

You opened your mouth to say something but were forced to dodge a cold sword. Kaeya grinned at you but was yanked back by Zhongli. The room was in utter chaos. You gritted your teeth and once more tried to remain calm. Another arrow narrowly missed your ear and you felt yourself become enraged. Kaeya dodged Zhongli and thrust his sword at you but was stopped by a sharp pillar of light.

“That’s enough.” Your voice was cold as you used your own weapon to shove the pushy cryo wielder away from you.

As if by magic, suddenly everyone stopped to stare at you. Quickly, they sat down. Albedo’s eyes were alert now, he was suddenly interested in every word you had to say. Even Xiao seemed to have a better attitude.

You continued your speech without any further interruptions. Finally, the end was in sight.

“And to answer your earlier question,” You pushed your hair back behind your ear to reveal your vision on an earring, “I am a light wielder. I will not take any questions on it. Have a wonderful night and thank you for coming.”

You turned and exited your classroom quickly as murmurs spread across the room. Light visions were only gifted to those who were recognized by multiple gods. Light was a strange element that could mold itself and change to take shape of different elements, although it wasn’t perfect. Elemental mastery took a lot of time and the light could only bend to your will for short periods of time. Using light as anything other than itself could backfire easily. Ontop of the many complications, attaining a light vision meant going through a crisis so terrible that multiple gods had to intervene. It was a blessing and a curse.

As you headed home, shivers ran down your back. You couldn’t help but feel that you were being watched or followed. You shook it off and returned home. It was just paranoid thoughts after a rough night.

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

After the conference, you seemed to be plagued by the families. Outside of work you ran into them constantly. It was nerve wracking.

“Miss Bright, Teucer loves you so much. He’d love to see you on the weekend. We could get lunch and then have a play date with him. What do ya say?” Childe grinned at you as you exited your classroom.

“Sorry, sir” An arm slid around your shoulders, “But i’m afraid she has plans for this weekend.”

You looked up to see the school librarian with a tight smile. Lisa was so kind, saving you from his shameless flirting. Although, she often seemed to flirt with you as well. You couldn’t really tell if she was being nice or flirting though.

He scowled and turned. Lisa laughed and squeezed you tighter. She escorted you out of the building, telling you about the new books the library had just received. Her eyes twinkled as you laughed at her puns and asked her questions about being a librarian.

“Excuse me,” A deep voice said “May I have a moment of Miss Bright’s time?”

You turned to see Zhongli, one of the only reasonable guardians you’d met. So far you’d not seen him after the meeting so you felt safer around him. Even Jean had appeared before you several times, though it didn’t seem intentional. You weren’t entirely sure but you’d swore you’d even seen Xiao lurking around when you were out.

“Of course,” You waved Lisa off.

She frowned and kissed your cheek before sauntering off. Zhongli raised his eyebrows as you laughed, clearly embarrassed. The nerve of that woman sometimes.

“Sorry, she’s a friend but she’s very affectionate,” you apologized quickly.

“Hm,” Zhongli nodded and stared at you intently, “I’m sorry to bother you but is there a way I could schedule another meeting with you? I would like to hear about Qiqi’s progress.”

Your heart nearly melted. He was so kind and it was refreshing.

“Of course! How about this weekend?” You beamed at him.

The two of you scheduled a conference lunch and parted ways. From afar, Diluc grimaced. He was curious about Diona’s behavior in school. She was a very moody child. Furthermore, he was curious about you. Kaeya had also pestered you for a date so the scarlet haired man was trying to find the right time to ask you. He didn’t want to come off the way he was sure Kaeya did.

“I would also like to attend the meeting.” Xiao announced to Zhongli once he got into the car.

“Too bad,” Zhongli chuckled “It’s one on one, you’ll have to schedule your own.”

Xiao huffed at his words. He disliked the idea of the two of you doing anything one on one. He couldn’t decide whether he was jealous of you or Zhongli. He decided it was you, since both Qiqi and Zhongli seemed to be infatuated with you. He clicked his tongue, Zhongli merely smiled, and Qiqi demanded coco goat milk.

“Does she like science?” Albedo questioned Klee.

“Miss Bright likes a lot of things I think.” Klee said, ice cream smeared on her face.

“I want to know more.” Albedo stated.

Klee grinned, “More ice cream?”

Albedo nodded, only hoping Jean wouldn’t catch them.

This new job had many opportunities open up for you. With so many people in pursuit of you, who would you choose?

[cafecourage]

The moment they realized they loved you. (Isekai Au Edition) Part 3

If you want more information on this AU here is the Link!

Hyrule:

- It confusing and full of yearning.

- The Fae Folk are very affectionate in nature. Physical touches and platonic kisses are just normal. Hyrule growing up briefly with them had adopted this habit.

- You are like that as well so you’re the one to take care of Hyrule when he wanted affection. Since other then Legend, it’s awkward to ask the others.

- He finds however while he still asks/gives you affection. He gets more flustered and embarrassed when you initiated contact.

___________________________________

Admittedly Hyrule never had a clear understanding of Hylian social norms. Some things were easy to pick up when he was just traveling by himself. However, there was a lot that conflicted with Fae social norms. While yes, the Fae were more mischievous and could be borderline malicious, they are very affectionate creatures. Which was the one of many things Hyrule picked up when he was being raised by the Great Fairy.

Before you join the chain, he had to hold himself back from being overly affectionate with the group. Yes, when he had chances, he would give a quick side hug or ruffling of the hair for the younger Link’s. But nothing on the level of cuddles or small peaks on the cheek and forehead. You though! You were the one to lay the affection on everyone thick. Most if not every Hero has melted from all the complements and physical affection.

Hyrule was living his best life now with you! Cuddles are a must for the two of you. Especially when one another has been having a rough day. You’ve also gotten the others involved with this newly formed ritual. He just over all feeling comfortable and loved.

Which then leads to Hyrule’s issue. Slowly he began to feel embarrassed with every peak after he heals you. Then his heart begins to race when he is cuddled up resting his head against your chest. Even holding your hands became hard for him to stand! It felt so warm but also made him fearful. He was scared of losing you. Losing this warmth. This comfort. He wanted to keep it but scared that this feeling was to good for him.

“-and that’s what happen so far.” He was visiting the Great Fairy Cotera of Wild’s Era. He had visited her each time they visited Kakariko. Cotera gently hummed messing with his hair. “What should I do?” He looks up to the giantess worriedly. His small sisters surround him ether sitting on top of him or by his side.

Their mother hummed as she thought about his problem. “My dear sweet child.” She started after a long pause “this human… do you feel different compared to your other friends? Or with your siblings in the forest?”

Hyrule thought about it after a while shook his head. “No… I did used to feel embarrassed with the others but it was different. This is more… warm?”

“Warm?” She urges him gently to continue. “Do you hate it?”

“No…” he sounded like a child, fidgeting in his seat “I hate how anxious it makes me now.” You meant a lot to him. Hyrule knew you meant a lot to everyone too, but that normal! You’ve helped them all in some sort of way! Yet he was deep in that unidentifiable emotion towards you. He adores you. All of you. Even during your more impulsive actions he didn’t mind having to heal you. Of course, he would truly rather not heal anyone with his magic. Yet… with you giving his payment in kisses on the cheek or forehead… he can’t stay mad at you.

“Chin up little one.” Cotera lifted up his head “your feelings are valid and has a simple explanation.” Hyrule pouted slightly making her giggle a bit tapping lightly on his nose. “You my dear seem to love your sweet human.”

It was like a lanterned was just lit in a dark cave he was wandering in. Finally revealing a path out. Everything thing slowly explaining itself. “Oh…” was all he could say as he was comprehending it. His sisters were giggling at their brother’s expense causing him to blush. It all made to much sense.

“Roolie! Are you nearby?” He and the Great Fairy both perk up when they heard your voice. He stared up at the Great Fairy expectingly.

“Well?” Cotera nudged him off of the petals of her fountain. “What are you waiting for little one?”

___________________________________

- Well, that was embarrassing and he knows once he starts perusing you. The more his siblings of the forest will start to tease him. Not only that but the chain also catches on pretty quickly.

- He becomes a blushing and stuttering mess around you, not pulling away from your touch but leaning more into him.

- It will be a miracle if he confesses but he will! And he will do it in a more intimate manner though, with or without help.

___________________________________

Four:

- It took long to accept but filled with soft cotton fluff.

- Isn’t canon in the manga that the colors (minus Vio) straight up try to impress a girl they just met?

- Now I’m not saying he is like that now a days, but old habits die hard right. He probably doesn’t even recognize that he still does it.

- Honest to God the resident brain cell is the only one that new point blank what was happening. Having a “not again” moment.

___________________________________

It’s been a while since Four was back in his forage. He missed every second of it. The smithing process was the one hobby each color had in common. As Link they found it relaxing, something to get their mind off of things.

That morning was no different. Traveling on the road was stressful even for a seasoned adventurer. Traveling alone was boring which was the upside according to Red. It relieved them of responsibility Green was used to taking upon himself to carry. Blue was at least a lot calmer with having to be on alert all the time. Vio had pointed out this was mainly because of You.

The chaos came back full force. The same argument has been happening recently, it was about his feelings towards you. Now they all liked you as a friend. Four knew that for a fact. He was only six when he felt your presence and this situation, he was in was as if an imaginary friend became real! At least that’s what Red felt.

No matter if they were unified or separated, Four could trust you to help him out of even the messiest situations. So, what if some of those situations were caused by him trying to impress you? That doesn’t mean anything!

Just because Blue became a stuttering mess when you surprised Four with a flower crown just meant he was taken aback at your kindness! He isn’t good at showing his emotions. Yeah, so what about Green becoming a soft mess when you first showered him in praise and affection. Wouldn’t any person do that from someone that been through hell and back with them? It doesn’t count that Red craves your affection! He is like that with everybody and just because it makes him feel different it doesn’t count. Someone saves Vio from this.

Four was conflicted which is why he was working so early in the morning. They wouldn’t shut up about their own feelings. It was a chaotic mess inside his head as soon as he woke up. A weight on his back clued him back into reality “Good morning!” You while looking down at him smiling still holding on lazily. “How is the most beautiful person here doing?”

Ah. There goes most of composure out the window. Vio was the last one standing with Green and Blue almost hanging on. You loved to tease him and he was never able to get you back. “Don’t know how are you?” Four was really struggling to keep unified and calm. He was shaking because of the other three’s nerves. You stared at him wide eyed.

“Jeez look at you!” You give him a squeeze before finally let go of him “you’ve grown! If only you were that smooth towards Erune.” You teased.

The blush he was so desperately trying to beat down started to flare up this time out embarrassment. “Can we not talk about that?” Four could only cringe when he thought back at that bit in his adventure. Him and Erune have been close friends since then, but the colors were really trying to play the hero in front of the poor girl back then. Their antics truly were really not impressing anyone.

Green was really happy he grew out of it. Seriously it‘s not like Blue really cared about it anyway he was just a kid! Red was just happy that he got a long-term friend out of it! The audacity the others had was killing Vio. They are still just as bad and it seems like no one was listening to reason.

An explosion of emotions and thoughts collided in Four’s skull. Three denying their logical side’s claim all while getting thrown every instant in their faces by the odd one out. “Whatcha making anyway?” You were observing the short knife blade curiosity not seeing the other’s internal debate. Vio felt like he had to spell it out to each of them. Pulling up memories of their actions towards the outlander. Four struggled to focus on what you were saying but it was too loud!

“Woah there.” You turn him away from his project letting it sit safely on a cooler section of the work top. “Breath Link.” You where kneeling down in-front of him holding his hand. He focused on your warmth. The way you rubbed small circles on the back of his hand. On your voice that instructed him to breathe. In for four, hold for seven, let out for eight. Repeat. Slowly the divide melded back together. Soon the voices faded out. “There we go.” You whispered “good job Link.” Four stared back at you still tired from everything but nonetheless happy that your here with him.

Man, he loved you so much.

Wait-

___________________________________

- It was definitely an I told you so moment.

- Four as a whole though is still struggling to come to terms with it, even though he had already admitted his feelings.

- Another case of: drown him in affection until he realized. Not because of him not believing you! It’s just you have four people in a trench coat here! If one is conflicted then four as a whole will feel that subtly.

___________________________________

Bonus (just Headcanons):

Wind (finding out that a Link has a crush on you)

- The little gremlin is going to have a field day! He was thinking about messing around but the other hero is doing his work for him!

- The only one saved from this Black Mail harvest is you. He does have a few things but you mostly let him off the hook when he gets in trouble anyway sooooo…

- Not the best wing man but he honestly isn’t trying. He is just enjoying the journey.

- He might be tempted to help if he was asked but there isn’t much he could do. You are his right hand after all! Why would he let your secrets go so easily?

- Imagine Wind just vibes with you when the other Link is trying their best and you literally ask if the other hero was ok since they are acting weird around you. It would take Wind a minute to get an answer because all he is thinking is: ‘are you dense?’

- Or on the flip side. If you know about their feelings. He would definitely be on board of helping you out. Again, you’re his right hand! Of course, he’ll help you! (Favoritism)

- Wind: “Don't worry. He likes your butt and fancy hair. I know. I read their diary.” (Y/n): “He thinks it's fancy?”

(Part 1) and (Part 2)

My First Request is now done :D! That was fun. Thank you Pinky and Star for the request <3

[thundrpilot]

Naruto Fic Rec 1/∞

Naruto Fic Recs: [1] [2] Fic Masterlist here for full list.

☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆

** Kill Your Heroes by TheLightAtLastAndAlways

Word Count:  268,501 (68/?)

Summary:  It's time to stop waiting for other people to save you. A story about fear, resilience, and Sakura.

Comments:  Slow Burn BAMF!Sakura. Also, Kakashi working his way up to being a good teacher and good mentor to Sakura. Genjutsu-type!Sakura.

☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆

** Bleed Out by HazelBeka

Word Count:  103,754 (16/16)

Summary:  After Iruka’s confrontation with Kakashi before the chuunin exams, he’s targeted by a serial killer who seems to be picking off disrespectful chuunin. Iruka survives, but it’s only a matter of time before the killer returns to finish the job. Finding his name on the suspects’ list, Kakashi bullies his way onto Tenzou’s investigation in an attempt to clear his name and protect Iruka from the real threat.

Comments:  Murder Mystery, ANBU, Seals Master!Iruka, basically all the best tropes all in one fic. This was the first Naruto fic I ever read, so I’m very attached and compare all KakaIru fics to this one.

☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆

** The Bingo Book by flailinginlove

Word Count:  64,500 (10/10)

Summary:  Kakashi avoided relationships. He didn't want to put others in danger. So he couldn't understand why there was a face staring back at him, as a sub-entry to his own, in this Bingo Book. Umino Iruka (lover) the caption read. It didn't matter that it wasn't true. The Book was fact, and to Kakashi's enemies, Iruka had just become a weakness they could exploit.

Comments:  Sensor-type!Iruka, ANBU, awkward KakaIru, what else could you possibly want in a fic? I love it when Iruka surprises people with how good of a ninja he is, even though he's "just a chuunin teacher". One of my favorite tropes, along with his chakra-location (like echolocation) from that one episode. Also, flailinginlove is an amazing author and you should go check out more of their stories.

☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆

How to File Form 39-B by thehoyden

Word Count: 10,426 (1/1)

Summary: The first time Iruka met Hatake Kakashi, he was still on some pretty god painkillers.

Comments: Kakashi/Iruka. This one is cute, very light-hearted read with a pinch of angst and a heaping of Iruka parenting Naruto.

☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆

The Bijozakura Seal by megyal

Word Count: 38,055 (13/13)

Summary: Kakashi and Iruka are bonded together, entirely against their wishes. While Iruka begins to deal with it, Kakashi still has… doubts.

Comments: Mission!fic, the two start off not exactly friends, and this fic definitely leans into the angsty and kinda uncomfortable, not-as-often-considered side of having a psychic bond with someone you don't know that well or trust.

☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆

Part of the Pack by SparrowStrike

Word Count: 125,303 (37/37)

Summary: Legend has it the Hatake Clan is an off shoot of the Inuzuka Clan. It's where they get their sharp teeth, affinity for ninken, and tendency to casually adopt every other person they meet.

When Kakashi realizes Naruto's assigned caretakers aren't even sort of doing their job, the young anbu decides to do a bit of long term babysitting (and possibly commit treason). What follows is the story of Uzumaki-Hatake Naruto and his unconventional family.

This is primarily a slice of life piece and heavy on both fluff and angst. It covers a lot of the canon events and has cannon typical violence and darker themes. It can be read as a stand alone, but is the first work of 3 planned in this AU.

Comments:  Dad!Kakashi raising Naruto, lots of politics, hella canon divergence. Part 1 of 3 in The Pack series.

☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆

Roots and Wings by ideaoforder

Word Count:  84,985 (12/12)

Summary:  When Naruto is kidnapped from his orphanage at age three, Kakashi is so done with this shit. He gets Naruto back, tells the Hokage where to go (politely, because he isn't suicidal), and raises the boy himself. Or, you know, tries and is proud when there aren't too many explosions.

Then everybody starts to copy him and it's a whole thing.

Comments:  Found family plus Fix-It fic galore! Focus on Kakashi being a good dad to Naruto, but does have some pairings aren’t that central to the plot: Kakashi/Iruka, Naruto/Shikamaru. Bonus Iruka being a Fuuinjutsu BAMF.

☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆

** by my blood by justdoityoufucker

Word Count:  30,892 (7/7))

Summary:  Kakashi finds love and family, all in one near-successful murder.

Comments:  KakaIru. Found family trope, Everyone Lives / Nobody Dies, Jiraiya is a Hatake, Iruka Whump. This is 100% one of my new favorite Naruto fics, its not what you are expecting and I love it.

☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆

Thought and Feeling Interwound by tucuxi

Word Count: 36,122 (1/1)

Summary:  Tsunade walked around the desk and sat directly next to Iruka, turning both of their chairs with a casually powerful grasp. In the end they were facing each other, not the desk. He tried and failed to hold her gaze. She reached out and tipped his chin up, forcing him to look at her again. Another hit landed. This time it came from Iruka's left. It felt like it must have shattered bone, ribs grinding against each other in his chest, and Iruka bit his tongue almost until it bled to keep from crying out.

“Tell me, Iruka-sensei,” Tsunade said. “How long, exactly, have you been feeling Hatake Kakashi’s emotions?"

Comments:  Kakashi/Iruka. Accidental Soul Bond fic, also known as Jutsu Gone Wrong. Slowburn fic with lots of denial and angst and misunderstandings.

☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆  •  ☆

Fic Masterlist here for full list

[couldyouspeakmyname]

About & Rules

Ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ (Updated 8/21)

This blog does a few things for the fandom!

1) Imagine/Reader Insert requests. This is my bread and butter, and they’re so fun for me to do. These include headcanons, drabbles, dating x would include ect.

2) Headcanons for canon ships and/or characters. Also includes fandom character ships/crack ships

3) Theme Days!  See here

4) Read/Watched the whole series

5) I ADORE OC’s/Self inserts! Please, tell me about them and all the things that go into it!

6) I try my best to be friendly, so feel free to send any questions/concerns in!

7) Masterlist (or put /tagged/”whatever you’re looking for here” at the end of the url)

8) AU’s (WIP) (Demon!Shishigumi in progress)

Requests

Headcanons:  [] Open [x{ Closed

 Reader Inserts:  [] Open [x] Closed

Ship-me Requests:  [] Open [x] Closed

Drabble Requests:  [] Open [x] Closed

Imagines:  [x] Open [] Closed

Asks in Inbox:  Drafts: 2+

-PLEASE READ-

LIMIT OF 3 CHARACTERS FOR EACH ASK! HOWEVER-! You can submit the same ask with three different characters, it just makes it easier for me mentally to do requests

The only exception to this is the Shishigumi, who I love and will always write for as a group when requested!

INBOX CLOSES 9/27/2022

RULES

1) I have the right to refuse any ask that comes in my inbox. I usually will post an apology saying i wont answer it so I don’t leave you hanging. Do NOT spam my inbox and try and rephrase it in order for me to do it. I wont and will turn anon off.

2) I love writing for side characters and find many of the main ones...less than fun to write for. Don’t get me wrong, I still love them, but I lack the creative drive to get requests done for them. I will, but please understand they may take longer, since they’re so much harder for me to write for.

3) Due to the fact I am one person writing, I will probably focus on side characters more (I wont exclude everyone else, It’ll just take longer). I don’t like writing for many of the main characters, and this will enable me to get things out quicker for a faster turn around. These are ONLY APPLICABLE for reader inserts. I will write for everyone in terms of headcanons/fan ships/ship-me-with requests. 

I’m sorry but I just can not write well and will get burned out if I force myself to write for them.

Characters I wont write for

Any and all Beast Complex characters due to lack of free time from me, which allows me to focus on current requests. I love them, and maybe someday this will change, forgive me

3) All NSFW will be tagged properly, and I do take these requests...just keep a few things in mind

- I can roll with most stuff but I wont do inflation, scat, watersports, giant dick/tits, inflation, drowning, burning alive, resuscitation, tongue-jobs, breathing one another’s air, breathing/breath in general, feederism, Formicophilia and related or vore.

- I reserve the right to refuse requests that make me uncomfortable

- I will always let you know when the above occurs, just don’t spam me with it or try to rephrase it. I will dig my heels in. 

4) If you submit reposted art, or art without the artists permission, I will kick you. I will not follow/reblog from you if you do this. I will not post your ask/ideas if you add art that is not yours. I am an artist and despise people who do this. It’s my biggest peeve and while I refuse to put people on blast, I may block you.

5) I hate fandom drama. This is a fun and safe space. I have and will block people who bring bad vibes. Debate is fine, so if having opinions and back and forth. If you get mad and throw tantrums, I wont tolerate it. 

6) I WILL do fanship headcanons, and I love crack/fandom ships. 

7) This blog is LGBTQ+ friendly. This includes asexuals, poly, ect. This is another one of my hard stances, and I will delete anything that says otherwise. I will block you if you make anyone feel bad. 

8) No incest, adoptive or not

9) DO NOT SEND NSFW ASKS RELATED TO UNDERAGENESS IN ANY MANNER. (Unless it’s about a Cherryton student with someone similar in age and you don’t specify/fetishize the underage aspect.)

10) I want to make the reader pretty neutral, however, if you want something specific (gender, species, ect) please ask!!

11) No humans. The phrase “Humans exist in beastars they’re just rare…” comes from a Reddit post by someone that can’t read Japanese and made an assumption without verifying the actual contents. Added to that, no mystical animals. It’s established in canon that most mystical animals are hybrids that were just mistaken for something else. It’s an AU mystical animals are OK but otherwise, no sorry :< I will not, please don’t pressure me. Also, don’t try to get around humans by making them ‘half human’ and half something else. 

12) If you don’t like something I wrote or I misunderstood, please ask again! I’m here to make stuff for you guys.

13) Please when you request specify the character/request as much as possible because answering a general “do-whatever” ask is actually a lot more pressure than answering something specific, we don’t know what you like! Give me less of the burden of guessing!

14) I will tag things, but if I miss a tag let me know. You can also search things on my blog by typing couldyouspeakmyname.tumblr.com/tagged/tagyou’relookingfor

15) I will not write your OC fics for you. While I love OCs, sending me an entire plot of a fic that doesn’t really include any of the beastars characters themselves is a little much? I don’t mind writing OC x Character, but WE HAVE TO TALK ABOUT IT FIRST!!

16) Please don’t send ‘X’ characters reactions to super buff reader. I can only write about muscle so many times ;-; To add to that, don’t ask me to write about ‘x’ characters reactions to giant dicks. Please.

17) Do not spam the ask box with the same request over and over, If you’re worried we didn’t get it that’s okay, YOU CAN ASK! Just don’t send the same thing in fifty times.

18) Do not act entitled. I’m doing this for fun and for free. If you don’t like what I write, do it yourself.

19) Character limit!!! Four characters per ask UNLESS it’s the Shishigumi. I’m a simp, what could I say

20) We try to do asks mostly in order, and it’s okay to ask if we got yours! Just understand asks take time. I’m just one idiot

21) We do NOT write full blown fanfics on this blog! Maeve may write short reader insert stories, but not full blown fics.

[platypanthewriter]

AUgust prompts!

Image text under the cut! 

1. Superpower AU (Marvel/DC/power rangers/Sailor Moon/secret identities)

2. Darkside AU (murder boyfriends/villainy/monsters/possession)

3. Kink AU Sub/dom stuff, sex clubs, kink discovery

4. Profession AU (mechanic/lifeguard/tattoo artist/flowershop/doctor/chef/fireman/musicians/band/fashion--go wild)

5. Historic or Fantasy AU (Pirates/Princess Bride/Lord of the Rings/Avatar the Last Airbender)

6. Fairytale AU (princes/dragons/curses/good fairies, retellings of traditional tales/traditional themes)

7. Detective/Crime AU (mystery/buddy cops/investigation/Film Noir/Mafia)

8. Asian Drama/Martial Arts Drama AU (Untamed/Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon/Rookie Historian/Word of Honor, anything goes!)

9. Spies or heist AU (secret identities again if you like!  James Bond, Leverage, Oceans 8, gadgets and plots)

10. Classic play/novel AU (Shakespeare/Jane Austen and modernizations like 10 Things I Hate About You/Clueless/don’t forget Pride and Prejudice/Dickens/whatever)

11. Monster/Huge Robot AU (Pacific Rim/Jurassic Park/Godzilla/Transformers)

12. Magic/Witches/Wizards AU (Harry Potter/Hocus Pocus/familiars/curses/daemons/body changes or swaps/hanahaki disease)

13. Natural disaster/Nature survival AU (volcanos/earthquakes/lost/Tarzan/living in the wilderness/dogsledding/mountain climbers)

14. Modern horror AU (Supernatural/Teen Wolf/Buffy the Vampire Slayer/weres/demons/hunters/zombies)

15. Queer Subculture AU (Gay/straight alliance clubs at school, drag, gender-non-conforming characters as the focus/Stonewall/protests)

16. Athlete AU (skaters/baseball players/skiiers/roller derby Robin/coaches for kids or each other)

17. Future/sci-fi AU (Terminator/5th Element/Blade Runner/Matrix/Jupiter Ascending etc.)

18. Stripper/pole dancer/burlesque/sex worker AU

19. Creatures AU (Fairies/mermaids/creatures not in a horror setting)

20. School AU (college/university/pranks/gradeschool/middleschool/drama class/school sports teams)

21. Classic Movie AU (Victor/Victoria, Ghost and Mrs. Muir, Some Like It Hot, Miyazaki movies, Coraline, Nightmare Before Christmas,  comedies/musicals/anything)

22. Soulmates/ABO/Destiny/Red Strings AU

23. Animals AU (zoo workers/trainers/pet owners/characters as animals/horseback riding)

24. Historical AU (cowboys/musketeers/Babylonian royals/politics/soldiers/anything you like)

25. Kidfic AU Childhood friends or sweethearts/parents/babysitting/adoption

26. Mythology/gods/cryptids/urban legends AU (Also includes Lara Croft/Indiana Jones/American Gods/Percy Jackson)

27. Stranded together/forced proximity AU (paired up for work/ stranded/blind dates/project together/fake dating/arranged marriage/handcuffed/deserted island/in the Upside-Down/roommates)

28. Injury/disability/illness/dreamscape AU (Amnesia/injury aftereffects/barely survived/coma/hallucination/questioning reality)

29. Canon-adjacent AU (change one thing from canon, like gender/soulmates exist/an event/a death)

30. Internet/fandom AU (chat rooms/catfishing/texting/social media/Twitch/Onlyfans/early fansites/cons/cosplay)

31. TV Show AU (Star Trek/Baywatch/anime/Doctor Who/anything you like)

Alternates:

Apocalypse AU (zombies/bombs/post-natural disaster/aliens/Annihilation)

80’s movies AU (Gremlins/Lost Boys/Stand By Me/Goonies/Ghostbusters, Spielberg/Stephen King, Karate Kid/Cobra Kai, anything with an 80’s vibe=fair game!  Google “movies released in the 80’s” and blow your mind)

RULES:

Anything goes, use these however you like to make whatever you’d like!  Do some, do all, or just enjoy the stuff other people make!  Tag your work HarringroveAUgust  and reblog what you like!  We’ll make a HarringroveAUgust collection on Ao3, I’ll make a link later.  Add whatever you want!  This is generally a Stranger Things fandom thing, but everybody’s welcome!

Have fun!

tagging @ihni​ and @cherrydreamer​, my enablers (fixed at Ihni’s excellent tag suggestion!)