#why do I keep swapping their eye shape in different aus??

[crees-a]

One wrong step and Moon is no more

I like to imagine scenes where they help each other using their own abilities. Like Sun can swim in lava while Moon is perfect at climbing

[unclewaynemunson]

Pt5 to the Wingman Wayne AU!! | AO3 link

It doesn't take long before hanging out with Steve another time turns into hanging out multiple times a week. Being friends with him turns out to be something surprisingly easy. The many differences between them don't make it awkward or difficult to bond – on the contrary, they make for endless conversations and a never-ending stream of fun new discoveries, because it soon becomes clear that Eddie is just as fascinating to Steve as Steve is to Eddie. It soon feels like they've already known each other for years, time flies whenever they are together, and Eddie feels like Steve is the first person – except for Wayne, of course – with whom he can be completely himself. There's an easy companionship between the two of them, and it doesn't take long before Eddie has to admit to himself that he gravely misjudged the guy, prejudiced as he was by his preppy appearance and his love for sports. Steve is nothing like the closeted Chads Eddie has crossed paths with over the last few years: he's comfortable with his sexuality, comfortable in his body, comfortable walking around town in the company of Eddie “the freak” Munson... He's actually an amazing friend in every sense of the word.

Which is why it is a problem that one night, Eddie fails to fall asleep because his mind keeps wandering to Steve's brown eyes, the chest hair peeking out of his stupid polo shirt, the shape of his fingers... And his first thought when he wakes up in the morning is about the moles on Steve's cheek, and – worst of all – those goddamn pink lips.

'What the fuck?' he mumbles to himself as he gets out of bed. He hasn't had his coffee yet, his stupid brain should know that it's forbidden to have any confusing thoughts this early in the morning.

As if all of that isn't concerning enough yet, Wayne is sitting at the table and gives him some creepy all-knowing grin when Eddie walks into the kitchen, like the fucking psychic he is when it comes to his nephew.

'What?' Eddie growls at him.

'Nothin',' says Wayne, slightly too innocent. 'Made you coffee.'

'Shouldn't you be asleep?' Eddie asks as he flops down into the creaky old chair opposite of Wayne.

'Swapped shifts with Jimmy for the week,' Wayne tells him. He rolls his eyes as he adds, 'Had a big fight with his wife again.'

Eddie knows much more than he wants to about Wayne's colleague from the dayshift: every once in a while, Jimmy will ask Wayne to swap their schedules as a tactic to avoid his wife. In spite of the sad implications that gives about the man's marriage, Eddie selfishly hopes Jimmy will keep having many more fights with his wife, because that means he gets to see more of his uncle.

'Stupid straight people,' Eddie comments under his breath as he takes a sip of his coffee; it tastes perfect, the way only Wayne can make it. 'Does that mean you'll be making me coffee for the whole week?' He stretches out his arm while balancing on the two rear legs of his chair to reach for the box of Honeycombs on the kitchen counter behind him.

Wayne snickers. 'Wouldn't get used to it, boy,' he says.

Eddie stuffs a fistful of dry Honeycombs into his mouth. 'Maybe you could blackmail Jimmy into swapping shifts forever,' he says, his words muffled by the food in his mouth.

Wayne cocks an eyebrow at him. 'Maybe I should. I'd finally get to teach you some proper breakfast manners like you aren't a grown-ass man.' He lights up a cigarette and Eddie motions for him to give him the pack, so he can follow his example.

'So...' says Wayne, blowing the smoke towards the ceiling. 'You gonna tell me who it is?'

'Who what is?' Eddie asks, blankly.

Wayne only shrugs.

'How do you even know?!'

'It's written all over your face, boy.'

'It doesn't matter because it's stupid anyway.'

'Is it Steve?'

Eddie shoots him a deadly glare. 'Jesus, this is getting unfair!' he exclaims. 'Can't a guy just have his secrets in peace in this house?!'

But Wayne only snickers at his little outburst.

'Steve's a good guy, Ed,' he says. 'I know you're probably not exactly waitin' for your old uncle's approval, but if you ask me, he's much better than any of those guys you used to mess around with. Those um... Chads.'

Eddie had always respected the wishes of the guys he was seeing, tried to be patient, tried to be understanding of their processes... So he'd always call them Chad when he talked about them with Wayne. Wayne would always get those worried looks on his face whenever Eddie was talking about one of the Chads, so after Chad the Fourth, Eddie had decided to stop dating once and for all. That hadn't made Wayne's worried looks disappear, though – it had made him come home with that stupid piece of paper with Steve's number on it. The stupid piece of paper that is now taped to the wall next to the phone, gross as it is, because that's how often Eddie has been using it these days.

'I know he's better than the Chads,' he finally admits with a sigh. 'But I totally friendzoned him right from the start, man. Maybe he was actually interested, but I kept turning him down in the  bluntest possible ways, so now he certainly doesn't see me that way anymore – I made absolutely sure of that all by myself!'

Wayne lets out an understanding hum, then takes the last drag of his cigarette before carefully pressing it out in the ashtray.

'Can't you just... talk to him?'

Eddie groans in frustration. Why does Wayne always have to make everything sound way too simple?

Pt6

I’m kinda starting to feel like a broken record here but thanks everyone for all your heartwarming comments and tags, I can’t even explain how happy all those responses are making me <3

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[thebad-lydrawn-sanses]

May... may we get info on the super au? 👉👈

"Monsters", in local dialect, can refer to any being that wields magic and/or is made of magic

SOULs are a culmination of magic, not self

tw/cw (trigger warnings/content warnings)

long post

medical system neglect/trauma

eating disorder (kind of)

food difficulties

knives

violence/murder/death (all implied/mentioned)

body horror, sort of

Killer

first to join the gang

hand arthritis because you're not allowed to enjoy your remaining arm (but you get an arthritis glove so)

mask

transhumeral (above elbow)

knee disarticulation

only character who gets a prosthetic

weird soul shape is the power

very stable

very unstable

Cross

second to join the gang

hood

mask

hasn't lost any limbs (yet)

knife summoning

"scarf"

saw Dream ACCIDENTALLY crush a metal beam with one hand and now screams at the top of his lungs anytime Dream gets close to grabbing him

Dust

third to join the gang

motorcycle-esc helmet

and they were roommates

literally

the economy is in shambles

Doctor: well actually we can't give you prosthetics unless we do a procedure to ensure you're actually missing your arms

Dust: ...but i was born without arms

Doctor: the procedure costs over a thousand dollars and i don't have the authority to diagnose you if you don't do the procedure

Dust: what

Doctor: im sorry

when the medical system is useless you have to improvise

bad for teeth probably

adjustable length grabber tool

whoopee cushion probably

villain outfit

scarf

ankle length

got blue to cut off the arms of a morphsuit and sew the holes up

GASTER BLASTER

Random Civilian: WTF

glowy eye

has a lot of magic to burn

Horror

fourth to join the gang

villain outfit fits him when he grows to a specific height

hasn't lost any limbs

motorcycle-esc helmet

least scared of Dream (because he can run away fast enough)

sharp teefers

Dream

was originally meant to be a manipulative government-working hero who's fake personality reflected canon Dream's while the real personality reflected canon Nightmare's

psychologically broken from spending 500 years in a statue

the constant hunger pains don't help

huge lidless eyes and permasmile tend to disconcert people (uncanny valley)

head is always slightly tilted to alleviate neck pain (making it worse in the long run)

little-no fine motor control

anything in his hands will be held with every ounce of strength he has (which is a lot)

Swap

was sweet and relatively innocent when he started working as a hero (and was a bit squeamish about even hitting villains a bit too hard)

naturally black hair, dyes it constantly to match outfit

prone to trembling violently when angry

blurred for violence

Karen: <- interrupting Blue while he's trying to do his job

originally tried to replace screams with laughter to trick his brain into not panicking during high-stress moments and now ends up laughing hysterically when startled/scared

Villain 42: boo

Past Blue: hahaa! you missed!

Villain 42: boo

Current Blue: AHAHAHA

Villain 42: hey man wtf

Current Blue: i don't know why i did that

Villain 42: it's ok

sledgehammer

mental stability is stretched thin from constantly supervising a murderous human-eating being with the psychological state of a severely traumatised child and a paint-eating psychopath with severe memory issues

Ink

travels the aus where he's human and technically doesn't actually belong to the super au

dislikes water (makes him start dissolving)

likes this au because he doesn't have to hide his supernatural abilities

Ink: wh.. where are my vials

keeps mixing up the definitions of hero and vigilante because it's different from au to au

supposed to have a tragic backstory but he's always forgetting it

legally diagnosed with traumatic brain injury and ASPD despite never taking the tests

[disruptivevoib]

mx voib how on earth do you go about designing your hmsw variants, i'm so jealous

Oh I feel fancy now!

Anyhow, I don't have any distinct go-to process but generally having a good idea for the au or the concept I want to design them based on and stemming from there.

Many of my more baseline Aus are close to my canonical designs. With the re-designs of Eleutheromania having a half/half Heart to match the Mind design and make him more distinct.

Then there are the more abstract things like the "Death Thirds" Which is an au I've not really spoken on, and I don't recall if I've posted them here. Though I know I have on Twitter. (I recall CJ liking the Soul design)

Those are meant to be more ethereal, uncanny and inhuman designs. They are VERY self indulgent and more an experiment than anything. Though I knew I wanted to use the Mind design off the album cover for CCCC as baseline inspo for Mind. Soul happened kind of accidentally tbh. I was doodling and he came about.

Theres a set I'm drawing right now which have been far more in-depth. But thats because they stem from an existing media. But that's all I'll say on that one!

As for the smaller guys... I wanted to draw an HMS which was closer to 'canon' in some ways or just different from my typical used for the Song Pieces! They actually well exemplify some thematics in terms of square mind, circle heart, triangle (with rounded edges) soul. Which is a motif I've had since even my VERRRRY very very first concept ideas for my HMS designs!! Shape language is very important to me, and its something I highly suggest learning about or messing with.

I also like to take their canonical clothing; Mind's leather jacket or black vest, Heart's hoodie, Soul's jacket and apply or manipulate it to fit a design. The stripes in my Soul jacket I believe aren't how the real jacket CJ owns is but more so ripped from Kai @/calamarispiderart ?

But yeah! Overall. Themes, motifs, things like that are key in my designs.

Pluto is also a good show of that. I wanted to make sure he looked as faded and washed out as he felt. So his hair is white and his colors, even his Heart and Mind's colors are desaturated and a little off. Lacuna Mind leans into navy and teal while Lacuna Heart is nearly pink!

The Swap designs are also a good example. Viscera is a Whole with nothing in him, and while now I see Soul as more exemplifying that- Whole needs to exist in this au more physically. So— Viscera takes that place. He's a husk and a shell. The half mask with an empty void on the otherside showcases just as much. And for as uncanny and blank as he seems, he is soft. His face is always very soft and maybe a little bit sad. Ennui, Swap!Mind maintains the half/half motif of my Mind designs if only to keep him recognizable. But, his source is a jagged and sharp edged heart and the strings run in a simplistic but sharp form of a heartbeat. Electricity forced to be another way. His features are also softer still from the typical Mind design! Even in what he wears! Judge I have fewer notes on other than his blindfold is not present and in its place is his brain source, obscuring both his eyes if he technically has them at all. Astray, Soul, is faceless. For what is Soul supposed to even be without the mask? Especially when he doesn't know much of anything at all.

Sooo yeah! Just. A big ramble that boils down to the answer of... I try most often to make sure the designs convey the personality or story of the character in some way. Themes and motifs or ideas from or for the au also play that same part.

Course I cannot tell you why the au where they are in eternal snow, Mind has white hair. That is far more a "felt like it" moment than anything else.

Sorry if this is too broad or non specific. I can probably go more into depth on particular designs but yeah! And sometimes a design is one and done. Other times they need many thumbnails or concepts to cycle through. My own designs for the canon HMS have changed a lot in little ways since I began drawing em!

[marine-indie-gal]

Ok, so real thing;  Originally, I was going to make Pontus and Thalassa as Roman Titans/Counterparts to Oceanus and Tethys but then I realize that upon my own big mistake, Pontus and Oceanus were not exactly the same God, thus, I completely mistook for a version of Ocean Parents. 

In Greco-Roman Mythology, Amphitrite was actually the Daughter of Nereus and Doris. However, since in my version, Amphitrite is Oceanus and Tethys' Daughter (based on some sources where she was an Oceanid), my mind completely wanted Me to have Salacia as Nereus and Doris' Daughter giving as to how that there are Rare Media showing Nereus being barley the Father of Poseidon's Wife (example is in Disney's Hercules). And mainly because Nereus and Doris are Amphitrite/Salacia's actual parents throughout lore, I felt really embarrass of making Pontus and Thalassa as replacements for Nereus and Doris as The Parents of King Poseidon's wife in my AU since I know for a fact that SpongeBob isn't that 1.1 accurate towards Mythos (and defiantly wouldn't take Mythos THAT seriously), but based on the Wife Swap scenario in Different Timelines between Timeline A and Timeline B (which is Kamp Koral), there's only unsolved questionable asks like who could Amphitrite and Salacia's own Parents be if Poseidon and Neptune had swap their own consorts? That is, who exactly are the Parents of the Wives?

So yeah, another Headcanon Retconned for my SpongeBob AU (mainly because on how my brain is slowly progressing a change development for Certain Alternate Backstories which I still have kept developed ever since). Granted, I was actually going to consider Nereus and Doris having their own Family (in which Nerites and Nerea would've been Nereus and Doris' only children) but seeing as to now that Pontus and Thalassa just now don't really work as Different replacements for them as I feel like that keeping the one popular version where it's an Elder Man of the Sea is a Father to Fifty Beautiful Daughters is a lot more comparable to the Elderly Parent type in a Fairy Tale where their own Child sacrifices their own Parents' lives to be in their own place (Beauty and the Beast, anyone?). It's not necessarily that I would keep the Counterparts to have the same body type, because we live in a world where we have our own shapes and sizes (like comparing an Apple with a Pear), though one can say for sure is how that not every God has a Counterpart of their own by different name. So, just why not have the Two Different versions of the Sea Queen's Parents be Counterparts of each other for the sake of their own Daughters? Could've been a LOT more easier if I already had done that before in the first place...

Anyways, here's a little new re-addition of Nereus and Doris, the Parents of the Nereids (including Salacia).

Nereus is very Wise and Strict, always keeping a close eye to each of the Seven Seas and even most importantly towards his Daughters, the Nereids. He is annoyed by Salacia's actions whenever she's doing something that gets her in trouble but despite the fact that Salacia is one of his Nereid Daughters who is the most different, he still loves all of his daughters briefly no matter what.

Doris is very Patient and Calm, often hard-working with all of the choices that she tends to get done and is indeed an watcher of all of the Seas just like her own Husband. She takes very good care of her own Daughters and would often tell them stories (usually Fairy Tales). Of course, being a Supportive Mother she is, she would mainly comfort her daughters (including Salacia) no matter what sorts of trouble situations they are in. 

Nereus and Doris (c) Me SpongeBob SquarePants (c) Stephen Hillenburg and Nickelodeon 

[chocominnie]

One Last Time 02  —  Pjm. (M)

⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader

⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, Exbf!Jimin, model!reader, sad au, fluff, tons of smut, angst

⇢ Synopsis: Your idol ex boyfriend Jimin cheated on you. You two have been broken up for a while now and the media has been keeping track of you and him. You’re trying to get over him, but the things that happen inbetween makes you re-think the entire breakup, and so does Jimin…

⇢ Song : xxxxx

⇢ Previous : 00   01

⇢ Word Count : 

⇢ Warnings: dominant jimin, makeout sessions, this is honestly a sad angsty au, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected and protected sex, a bunch of sex, no really a LOT of sexual themes too, I know I’m forgetting some but sorry in advance!

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Authors note: This is my mini series for the summer! Get your tissues, things to take your anger out on, and sit back and watch the drama unfold. Shall we begin?

Your eyes shoot open, chest heaving heavily as you let out a blood curdling scream. Not this again. The same dream over and over again each night. It leaves you sleepless. The time on the clock on your nightstand reads 3:04 am. Just only four hours ago is when you fell asleep. But a full night’s sleep hasn’t happened for a year so why would it matter anyways.

Once you catch your breath you unplug your phone from the charger and read some of the notifications. From your window, the night-time critters sing their songs along with the persistant owl that’s somewhere around the apartment complex. You’d only noticed him, the owl, just a few months ago when your cat started meowing with his hoots. 

A missed call from your uncle. 

Immediately you unlock your phone and dial the number. Bringing your index finger to your mouth you gently nip on it waiting for it to answer, The rings are agonizing to you. If something has happened you only wish and pray it wasn’t as bad as you think. He’s the only parental figure left in your life.

‘‘ Princess! Hello I was just calling to speak to you earlier. But I realized you are five hours ahead of me and you had probably went to sleep.’‘

His soothing voice calms your emotions making you let out a tiny breath of air. Thank god.

‘’Hey Charlie.” You sigh. Looking towards your left, you spot Clara purring quietly next to you. You can’t help but to smile while bringing a hand over to rub her head with your thumb.  She’s so small under the shining moonlight from your window.

Her white coat shines brightly amongst her, making you remember the first night you had brought her home. All she did was sleep, and it worried you because you had no prior expierence caring for anything, let alone a small animal. Clara only drank kitten milk and slept back then. Occasionally being awake enough to nip at your fingers whenever you pet or touched her.

Now she’s a bit bigger and walks around the apartment like she owns the place. Quite the little attitude she has, but its too damn cute for you to scold her whenever she does something wrong. 

“ Yes I did fall asleep from after a gathering at someone’s house.’’ You continue on, bringing your knees to your chest after opening the curtain of your window fully.

The moons brightness illuminates the entire room, but not so bright for you to complain though. ‘’ Oh- was it Jimin’s? Tell him I said hell-’’

You bite your lip hard at his name. He doesn’t know and you wont even dare to let him know. Knowing him, your uncle would have a fit and oppose to come back to Seoul to ‘set the record straight.’ to Jimin. That’s the last thing you want to do, cause trouble.

‘‘ It was his brother’s house warming party.” You say, lowering your tone in your voice. You look at the nightstand for a couple of seconds just before opening the top drawer of the wooden, polished piece. Your hands shakily pull out a picture of you two together.

It was taken at  Marne-la-Vallée, France right infront of Cinderella’s castle. That was the day that you and Jimin had to went to Disneyland in Paris, France. You cant help but to think, with the picture in hand, that it was one of the best nights ever. It was also the same night your virginity was taken.

‘‘ Oh.. I know that tone. Are you two arguing at the moment.”

You shrug, “ I mean you could say that.’’

No you cant.

‘‘ Alright alright I won’t talk more of him. Let’s change the subject.” He chuckles deeply into the phone.

‘‘ How’s Europe? Anything new happening on base?”

‘‘ Same old Same old. It’s been what? 2 years since I’ve left Seoul? The food is different over here. They don’t have kimchi pancakes sadly.”

You can only imagine the frowny face he makes at you whenever he doesn’t approve or like something. It always turns out to be funny.

You giggle into the phone shaking your head slightly, “ Of course. You are in Europe Charlie. Where are you getting food from anyway if you are on base?’’

‘‘ I can go off base to a certain mileage when I am off duty. I just have to report back in time. But you do know that you can always come live on base with me...’ He trails off.

Oh boy. Here he goes. He’s always talking about moving you on base with him. Hell, he’s been talking about it since before he had to go to be based in Europe. By then you were twenty years old and old enough to live by yourself. Growing up in Daegu, Korea since you were six, you felt as if Korea was home to you and you definately weren’t ready to leave yet.

Especially, after losing your parents here. Around eight years old, your aunt and mother were on the way to pick up your father from the airport. With your mom and dad also being military and based in Korea with your dad’s bestfriend, your uncle Charlie, your father had been called to take military leave to go and be based in Korea for the National Guard.

On the way back from the airport, a drunk driver had struck the car knocking them off the road and colliding head first into the railing of the bridge. All bodies were reported dead upon collision, including your aunt. Charlie didn’t take the news well at all, and so did you. Only eight years old and still a bit new to a foreign country. It was devistating for you and Charlie. Charlie did what was right and stepped up to be your legal guardian while taking some time off from the military. Till this day, he treats you like his sacred little daughter and you can’t ask for anyone better than him.

 “You are old enough to live on your own and housing is avail-”

You jump at his voice on the line again, being too spaced out from the tragic memory. Before he can go on any longer you cut him off. ‘‘ Im fine with the apartment you left me. Im paying the bills on time and taking good care of it.”

‘‘ Alright fine. But that option is always available you hear me? I will always be ready for you to come with me.’’

‘‘ Okay Charlie” You groan.

‘‘ Alright.. sweetie it’s getting late on this side and it’s already 3 am on your side. Get some sleep okay? Don’t you have a model shoot thingy or something? You have those a lot.’‘

‘‘ Yes i actually do in a couple of hours. It’s been a while since I’ve did a shoot. Please eat and sleep well. Don’t injure yourself.’‘

‘‘ I promise. You promise to do the same right?’‘ He says, rustling movements are in the background.

‘‘ Yes I promise. Good night sleep tight..’‘ You smile as you wait for him to finish the rest.

He chuckles one last time on the other end, ‘‘I’ll always love you, goodnight‘’

Beep Beep Beep

You in a racy light pink lingerie with white duvets and sheets is the concept of your comeback. It’s supposed to symbolize the “Night After’’. Camera’s click and directors yell and praise you in your subtle yet damaging moves and facial expressions. You want.. no need for this comeback to be successful. Not only did your manager schedule this, but she is making sure that they release this same very day.

Nobody in this company’s industry has ever did this before. But you, you are sort of the special one. The special foreigner as they say. It’s not like you don’t like it but you don’t like that they label you as that. Stylists, employee’s hell even anybody who works there treat you as a princess. It’s not bad, but it’s just weird.

‘‘ One last one. Give me a sexy yet innocent look mama.’‘ Elliot, the director says, smiling wide at you.

You slip a finger into your mouth and do a little pout with your lips.

Elliot busts out into a roar of happiness with his hands clapping furiously. ‘‘That’s it mama yes! That’s just what we needed!’‘

Adjusting his microphone earpiece, he turns around to greet and thank everyone, ‘‘ Alright everybody this concludes our shooting! You all worked so hard today. Make it home safe, eat well.’‘

Finally. You sigh out in relief and close your eyes. It’s been a long day. Almost 6 hours of shooting. Three Videos, and five swap outfits for each session of shooting for the ‘’ Night After’’.  As everyone heads out and starts cleaning up you bow your head slightly and thank them.

A stylist brings you a satin robe to cover yourself in. You thank her and put it on just before getting up from the bed and walking towards wardrobe. Once you are done putting on your clothes, your manager leads you straight out the exit. Outside awaits the car that drives you everywhere. Literally everywhere.

‘‘ Tomorrow somebody has put in a special request for you to appear as the main lead girl in their music video. It’s short notice and I told them I would have to bump some things around and notify you. But they are paying us and you good money to be in it.’‘

Money? Sounds like a plan.

‘‘ It’s fine. Who am I shooting for?’‘ You say, fluffing your hair just a little while inspecting yourself in the rear view mirror.

Your makeup is still intact with no ruins and the contacts they had given you suited you very well. A hazel with a slight bit of teal. Suddenly the car moves off into the busy streets of Seoul. You can’t help but to notice every couple that walks along the sidewalks. They seem so happy, glad to be around each other.

On the floor of the car lies your little mini backpack filled with all of your items and belongings. Picking it up, you begin to dig through it looking for some hand lotion to soothe your semi-dry hands. Once you find it you gently start to squeeze the tube.

‘‘ Kim Namjoon.’‘

You freeze. Namjoon? The same Namjoon from the group? Joonie? It’s been well… a year since you’ve seen him in person. Hell since you’ve seen all of Bangtan Sonyeondan together. Except for lastnight when Hoseok and.. that guy showed up.

You sigh already knowing the answer from the question you are about to ask.

‘‘ From…?’‘ You ask then put the lotion back in your bag. Slowly you rub your hands together to moisturize.

Your manager quickly flips through the daily planner, ‘‘ Bangtan Sonyeodan but this is for one of his mixtape songs.’‘

Thank goodness.

‘‘ That’s fine. What time will the car be arriving tomorrow?’‘

‘‘ 8 am on the dot. You need to be there by 8:30. I’ll be tending to one of my other models tomorrow so you will be alone. I can send som-’‘

‘‘ No no it’s truly okay. I know how to manage things myself. Besides, I learn from you.’‘ You reassure her with one of your winning smiles, laying your head on her shoulder.

‘‘ Aigoo what am I going to do with you?’‘

The day ends very well. The movies you’ve been watching have kept you occupied. But not occupied enough for you to keep crying at all the sad parts in the chick flicks. Breakups, someone had died, someone had even just spilled something onto the floor and that was enough to send you into tears.Only because when the main lead boy rushed to help clean it up, it reminded you of Jimin last-night helping Isabel.

‘’What is going on with myself.’’ You blow your nose into a tissue for what seemed like the thousandth time today. Clara lets out one of her meows beside you then goes back to grooming herself.

You place her onto your lap and begin to run your fingers through her fur over and over again. Such a soothing effect to you as you stare into space sulking in your thoughts.

Why is it that you weren’t enough for him? Why is it that every single little thing reminds you of him? You gave him your all and he gave you his but what happened? Where did you go wrong? Cooked, cleaned, satisfied his needs. You guys had even started to plan out what you wanted out of a family. When you wanted a baby and what you would name it. It was fun. The whole relationship was fun. Right until that scandal.

Ding.. Ding.. Ding.. DI-

You unlock your phone immediately to stop that annoying dinging noise. Not surprisingly it’s a text from Jeon Jungkook.

Kookie : Im coming over I’ll be there in exactly 3 minutes.

Kookie: Don’t think about leaving either.

Kookie: Im bringing someone with me.

Kookie: We need to have a serious talk babycheeks.

You roll your eyes at the nickname he’s given you. No matter how many times you tell him you want him to change it, he declines. There’s no point in asking anymore.

Why would he want to talk anyways and who is the person he’s bringing. Eh.. it might just be Ryan they seem to do everything together as a team.

As soon as you step foot out of your bed the sound the door clicking makes your head shoot up. How in the living hell does he know the password to your house? Rage takes over you. That’s something that you hate. When people invade your personal space. In this case, personal home.

‘‘ Jeon fucking Jungkook!’‘ You scream, abruptly stomping your feet all the way to and out your bedroom door. Suddenly you stop at the sight of the two faces staring back at you.

Jungkook’s expression holds a concerned yet upset face while the other just stands there calm and cool. But you on the other hand are way besides that level.

Your eyes must be filled with rage and the expression on your face is no good. How dare he disrespect you like that? Bringing him into your home, knowing the bad blood between you two. Oh, they both have something coming towards them. You begin to walk to them again making each step make the floor shake.

‘‘ Get out. Both of you. One you invade my personal private home..’‘

You grab both boys by their collars, making sure to grip the one on the right’s harder than usual. ‘‘ Two, you fucking invite him over here.’‘ You drag each of them towards the exit. Which is going good until Jungkook rips your hands away from his shirt and takes you over his shoulder.

You’ve had enough of him and his invasive ways. Pounding on his back with your fists, you make sure to scream into his ear. “ Put me the fuck down Jeon Jungko-”

You hiss at the stinging sensation on your ass. Did he just? Jimin stands there awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. You make sure to make eye contact with him and roll your eyes. Something that always had and will piss him off.

‘‘ Hush. I told you all of us needed to have a deep talk about you.’‘

Jungkook plops your frail body onto one side of the couch in which he sits next to you. He motions for Jimin to come sit across from the both of you but you aren’t having it.

‘‘ Don’t you do it.” You glare at him. Jungkook sighs harshly only to pluck your forehead two times. You whine and rub it with your index and middle finger.

Jungkook shakes his head in disapproval, ‘‘ When are you ever going to learn? Jimin sit down now.”

‘‘ Truthfully.. I feel as though I shouldn’t be here so-”

“ Good. Get out you are unwanted.” You snap back causing him to give you one of his long stares with no facial expression at all.

Jungkook glares at you just before getting up to throw his hands in the air full of disappointment. “ Enough! “

Yelling. Something else you don’t like to hear being done at yourself. You finally sit still and quite avoiding any eye contact with the both of them.

He sits back down and clears his throat. Jungkook gives Jimin a look before continuing on.

‘‘ I gathered us here to talk about you..”

‘‘ Why. Im fine. How many times do I have to say it. Im fine im fine im fine im fucking fine!’‘ You exclaim, getting more mad by the second. When will people accept this?

‘‘ Baby.. ’‘

Your eyes shoot up to him and his soft voice. You didn’t want to but you did because his voice to you is like candy that melts into your mouth.

‘‘ Don’t call me that. You have a girlfriend at-least be loyal to her rather than what you did to me.’‘

‘‘ Fuck is anybody going to just sit here and listen? Can we at-least get to the source of the problem? Huh?’‘ Jungkook leans back into the couch clearly pissed by your attitude.

Jimin’s the first to speak and holds a firm eye contact with you, almost daring you to break away from it.

‘‘ Fine. Im just going to cut straight to it then. Why are you so jealous? You aren’t okay at all. I seen the way you looked at us yesterday. You wanted to break down so bad but you didn’t. It looks like you’ve been dropping weight day by day why aren’t you eating well?’’

You’re taken a-back by his jealous comment. Although you are you just cannot admit it. You are jealous. You do want him back. You cant bear to see him with another girl but you. But the fact that Jimin is concerned makes you really hope. Just hope that there is something left of you still in his heart.

‘‘ Jealous? Jealous tuh.” You scoff, leaning into Jungkook’s arms where you rest his head on your chest. You only do this just to see Jimin’s reaction and by the look on his face he doesn’t enjoy that move one bit.

‘‘ Yes jealous. I mean why else would you put almond extra-

‘‘ Woah. No need to go there. We established that it was a so called accident lastnight.” Jungkook does finger quotes into the air and looks down at you.

You lift your head up and furrow your eyebrows in annoyance, “ So called? So you really believe that I did it on purpose. Wow Jungkook. Escort yourself out.’’

He sighs, wrapping his arms around you securly in hopes of you settling down a  little, “ Honestly it’s not like that. I wasn’t there to see you bake them nor was I watching her eat it. Im just saying that you knew Jimin was coming and obviously his girlfriend was going to come too. It’s a little sketchy is all.”

There’s no fixing what he said. Him adding onto his explanation just made things sound worse than what he’s trying to say. You don’t have time to be ganged up on, nor like it at all. It’s best if they both just leave, to not turn nothing into something.

‘‘ Get out. Now. Before I call and tell Ryan what you said and then she’ll definitely deal with you.’‘ You say, removing yourself from off of him and onto the other side of the couch with your legs crossed.

Mad isn’t even the word to describe yourself right now. You’re just a mixture of all emotions.

Jungkook now looks of sorriness written all over his face. You bite your lip and shake your head while pointing towards the door. He sighs heavily and takes one last look at you while removing himself from the couch. You watch him slip on his coat and shoes.

Jimin gets up from his spot on the couch, ‘‘ I’ll be leav-”

‘‘ Sit down we aren’t done talking.” 

He looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed, sitting back down slowly.

Jungkook keeps his head down as he wraps his blue scarf around his neck. Poor baby, but he shouldn’t of said it. “Please better yourself and talk it out with each-other. Im leaving.”

‘‘ Make it home safely.. Kookie.” You sigh once the door closes behind him. Now you’re here. Face to face with Park Jimin.

The same Jimin who cheated on you. The same Jimin you haven’t seen in a while. You take a few moments to take in his appearance. He seems to have re-gained his muscles that are peaking through his black, longsleeve shirt. His thighs are still thick, just like his luscious lips. Of course he changed his hair color to black. But who knows, he might change it again.

‘‘ You’ve been doing well?’‘ You say, voice low but enough for him to hear. You drop your eyes to your lap instead of keeping intact with his.

‘‘ Yes. But you have not. Im disappointed in you. Why are you doing this to yourself? Don’t do this because of me.”

‘‘ Jimin you don’t know the feeling. You don’t know how it feels to be left wondering why you weren’t good enough for someone. Why they had cheated on you. You don’t understand at all and wont ever.’‘ Your voice cracks on the last sentence and you an feel the lump in your throat become sore.

He bites his lip unsure of what to say next. Those words had hit him good inside. ‘‘ Im sorry. I truly am. But you know the reason why we had to end it. I fucked up bad and the media was making the scandal bigger and messier day by day. It was better to just call it off.’‘

One by one your tears start to drop. You nose begins it’s running trip but you sniffle it back up.

‘‘ You could of denied it. You know you could of made a statement and denied it. But you felt something for her didn’t you? Didn’t you?’‘ You semi-yell, sobs already starting to take it’s way over.

He bites his lip once again and ruffles his fingers through his hair, “ Baby..’’

You wipe your tears with your hands making your face even more puffy from the crying. “ I am jealous. I am I admit it Jimin. But do you know i have been suffering for one year and two months? I can’t sleep at night because im so used to your touch at night. I look at every couple in Seoul and think to myself, Dang they seem so happy. What’s their secret?’’

Jimin sits up, making eye contact with you with tears welling up into his eyes. It hurt’s you more than yourself to see him crying. It always has.

‘‘ Please don’t do that. Don’t do this to yourself. Please get help from someone to try and move on. Please. I don’t like to see or hear you make yourself suffer.’ He begs, getting up from his seat and coming towards you.

Jimin sits next to you, hesitantly opening his arms up to you. Would it be wrong to embrace him? He’s being too sincere, but thats what you want right? You decide to just do it, and lean into him only for him to pull you in closer into his chest.You just lay there crying and sobbing while he runs his fingers through your hair. You shouldn’t be doing this. He has a girlfriend. But it feels so right.

‘‘ What does she have that I don’t? Why couldn’t you love me the same way you love her “  You cry into his chest, soaking his shirt with your tears. 

You’d been waiting for this moment to just let it out. Let everything out.

‘’ Please don’t make this harder than what it is right now. Just try and forget me and move on. Please.” Hypocritcal. How does he expect you to get over him when he’s the one whos holding you so tight right now. Soon enough his sniffles join yours in harmony.

You raise your head up and look him deep into the eyes while you wipe away his tears, “ Don’t cry Jimin. I’m the one supposed to be crying over you. Don’t cry.’’

He takes your hand away from his face and wraps his fist ontop of yours, “Please promise me you will move on okay?’’

You shake your head no, “ I can’t make that promise.”

He doesn’t say anything. He gently cradles you in his arms and lifts you up. You don’t think to where he is going. You just close your eyes and grab onto his shirt firmly not wanting to let go.

Soon enough you feel the cold sheets over your bed. He covers you in the duvet and leans down to your forehead.  A kiss. Your fist is still locked onto his shirt in which he tries to pry it away but you don’t want to let him go. He sighs and raises his arms up as he takes off the shirt revealing an extra plain white wife beater under it. Taking your other hand, he wraps your hand into another fist onto the shirt to where both of your hands are holding onto it.

‘‘ Please better yourself for me baby. Sleep and eat well. “

Is all he says before turning off the lights and walking out your bedroom door.  You can hear him putting on and zipping up his heavy coat but you just don’t make a sound.

The apartment door clicks and beeps letting you know he’s already gone.

[jungshook69]

.:☆.°☾.Jealous.☾°.☆.:

DISCLAIMER: This doesn’t represent the members’ actions or the army’s actions in any manner it’s pure fiction. This is an original work, do not copy. The taglist is open if you want. Taglist is now closed.

WORD COUNT: 1358 words

PAIRING/S: Jungkook X female reader

GENRE: Established relationship au ; Oneshot/Imagine

WARNINGS: None

ABOUT: This oneshot is part of a 7 part BTS imagine called “Jealous”. This oneshot is a reaction imagine of how each member would get jealous of their s/o in a given situation.

7 PARTS: Namjoon || Seokjin || Yoongi || Hoseok || Jimin || Taehyung || Jungkook

STATUS: Complete

☆.。.:*・°☾.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☾☆.。.:*・°☾.。.:*・

You felt a bead of sweat travel down your forehead as your legs moved at an incredulous rate on the treadmill beneath you. Your chest was heaving and completely drenched in sweat as you tried to keep your staggered breath steady. You shut your eyes close, as you tried to engross yourself in the music blasting through your air pods.

Two minutes later you heard the familiar beeping of the machine underneath you, indicating that your hour on the treadmill was over. You hopped off and turned your attention to the rest of the folks in the gym, disconnecting your air pods simultaneously.

You watch Taehyung, Yoongi and Namjoon lifting kettle bells in the corner, Jimin and Hoseok were still running on the treadmills and lastly Jin was situated on a pec-deck machine, and your boyfriend Jungkook was seated beside the older, lifting dumbbells.

You were their personal fitness trainer and took exercise very seriously. You liked to maintain a healthy lifestyle and were incredibly proud of your toned abs that were sprawled across your abdomen, as you took a quick take of your figure in the gym mirror.

You made your way over to Jin and Jungkook and observed Jin’s figure. Now this may sound a little weird, but you never ogled anyone in the gym. You didn’t look at them with lust. When you were observing someone’s figure, who in this case was Jin in a black tank top, you always kept it professional. Your mind immediately kicked into auto drive as you begin thinking about what machine you would recommend them to work at next.

“You know Jin oppa, you don’t need the pec-deck machine.” You spoke up after a minute of thinking.

You caught Jungkook’s attention too. “What?” Jin spoke up.

“See, you already have pretty broad shoulders like Taehyung, but your shoulders are already pretty uplifted naturally. So this makes it appear as though you’re naturally toned at the chest. And trust me when I say you have a great upper toned figure already. I think you should work on your quads. So I think you should ditch the 25 minutes over here every week and swap it out for 40 minutes on the seated leg press machine.” You state your analysis.

“Okay” Jin said without a complaint, moving to switch spots for the rest of the session. This is what you loved about working with them. They always respected your decision and knew that whatever was being suggested was only to make them a better version of themselves.

You were about to move on to the trio lifting the kettle bells, when Jungkook’s feeble voice stopped you, “Noona, what about me? Do I need to change anything?” he said his eyes sparkling.

That was something you found astonishing about him. How his face represented that of a young teenage boy, his doe eyes sparkling, while his body was that of a muscle man. But recently after you had complimented him on his cute face, he had taken it the wrong way, and had decided to grow his hair out, indulging into man buns, in an attempt to make his face look more manly. You absolutely loved his long black hair, but you had kindly explained to him that he needn’t look all macho all the time to impress you. After understanding the situation he had decided to keep his long hair, as he’d fallen in love his new look.

“Noona?” Jungkook’s soft voice disrupted the array of your thoughts.

“Yeah… no… you don’t need to change anything babe, I think your routine is fine, at least for another month.” You said turning on your heels to move towards the trio in the other corner of the gym.

Before you knew it, you were assessing the three and assigning them their respective machines. You were right in the middle of checking Yoongi’s weight plates so it wouldn’t be too strenuous on his fragile shoulders, when a loud yelp echoed off the walls of the gym followed by a loud thump. You motioned the others to wait as you ran towards the source of the familiar voice.

Your eyes met with the sight of Jungkook’s left hand gripping his right shoulder, his eyebrows furrowed, his mouth partially open, gasping for air, a pained expression written all over his sweaty face. Your eyes shifted to multiple giant weight plates all on a pile on the floor, having slid of the dumbbell bar.

“What do you think you’re doing?” your voice half-laced with annoyance, half with concern.

“I was just… lifting weights” he said breathlessly.

“Yeah I can see that. But why are they out of your weight class? Why did you add on an extra 10 pounds to the barbell?” you ask.

“I just wanted to try something…”

“Well you can’t just impulsively change your weight class Jungkook. It’s gonna strain your arm muscles. No wonder you got hurt.” You said crouching down to your knees as you tried to move his arm back and forth, checking on his muscle strain.

“I just wanted to improve my frame…”

“Well you can’t do that Jungkook. We follow a level of professionalism here. There’s a reason I’m your personal trainer.” You said sternly. Nothing came in between you and strict professionalism, and Jungkook knew that. It was part of the reason as to why he found you so enticing.

“I- I’m sorry” he said chest heaving.

“You gonna tell me why you really did that babe?” you say in a softer tone. You could tell Jungkook had a hidden intention behind his impulsive action.

“No reason.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit Jeon, tell me…”

“Fine! I got a bit insecure when you were complimenting Jin hyung’s figure, so I wanted to change things up a bit…” he said sighing.

“Gguk, hey look at me…” he immediately looked up to the voice of you calling him by his nickname.

“Listen… please don’t feel insecure… it’s my job to observe and analyze your guys’ figures and ensure you guys remain healthy and fit. And the comments I throw around about your bodies during our sessions are merely to decide what’s the next step to keep you guys in shape. It’s my job Gguk, you need to understand. I am in no way comparing you guys to each other okay?” you said calmly explaining to him.

“Okay…” he said a small smile forming on his lips.

“Promise me you won’t go ahead and do anything impulsive like that again… because if you hurt yourself, your fans are gonna be really upset and worried about you.”

“Yeah…”

“Mr. Jeon Jungkook, I never thought of you as the jealous type.” You said giggling after a short pause, trying to lift the tension in the room.

“Noona… hush” he says his cheeks turning red, as he refused to meet your eyes.

You drank in his flustered and disheveled state as you bent down to his level and thread your fingers through his long black hair. His eyes visibly widened as you closed the proximity between the two of you.

“You have some guts, telling me what to do Gguk…” you said dominating the chiseled man in front of you. You watched as his Adams apple bobbed up and down nervously.

“N-Noona… someone might see us…” he gulps, his breath uneven.

“Let them” you say connecting your lips in a steamy kiss, the fear of being caught, leaving a feeling of excitement shiver through your body. You let your tongue dart out, tracing a warm trail along his soft lips. Just as he opened his mouth to give you the entrance you ever so subtly asked for, you pulled your tongue away, completely disconnecting your lips from his.

You watched his hooded eyes, blown out with lust, flutter open, as he looks at you with his mouth agape.

“Sorry baby, duty calls.” You say standing up, smirking.

“B-But…” you watched his adorable red cheeks as he struggled to form words.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you tonight.” You say winking and walking away to resume your job, leaving Jungkook’s mess of state behind.

☆.。.:*・°☾.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☾☆.。.:*・°☾.。.:*

A/N: I wanted to try something different and write Y/N as a dom character and the male lead as a sub character. Also I wanted to show that Jungkook is a perfectionist. He wants to be good at everything, and he is, owing to his competitive nature. But I just wanted to make a point that he doesn’t have to be good at everything for us to love him. We all love him no matter what, and that he doesn’t have to strain himself, just to feel loved by us.

Don’t forget to follow @jungshook69​ for more content:) You can check out more works of mine here. Have a great day:)

TAGLIST: @yzkyzkuniverse​

ENDING NOTE: Hey guys! I just wanted to say I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of love my series got. I never expected more than 3 people or so to read my story. But you guys surprised me with the amount of people who liked my series. I just wanted to say a big thank you for the support as it motivates me to work harder and give you guys better works in the future. Sending you all a big virtual hug, stay safe, and I look forward to sharing more of my writing with y’all :)

[shivada-jade]

magical mischief (2)

hogwarts!au

character(s): diluc ➡ mentions: kaeya, sucrose, childe, venti, baal, diona warning(s): swearing <3

notes: it was supposed to be diluc, zhongli, and thoma but diluc's unexpectedly got longer than i hoped oOPS so i made a separate one for zhongli and thoma

part 1: kaeya, childe, albedo

gryffindor!

diluc

everyone knows of the gryffindor prefect. some people would mistake him as ravenclaw for being so studious; some people would mistake him for slytherin for being so closed off. in his first year of hogwarts, people often mistook him as hufflepuff for being friendly, overly polite, and outgoing. the hufflepuff mistake changed when he turned sixteen.

no one knows what happened to his sudden change of personality. no one but kaeya and a strange, childhood, ravenclaw friend that works with another even stranger ravenclaw.

sucrose pushes her glasses up, watching you create another explosion in her room.

you cough, wiping off the ashes from your face. the black smudges on your face don't go away. sucrose hands you a handkerchief and you gratefully accept it, finally getting the grime off.

"project sixty-two oh-eight is unsuccessful." the mint haired girl notes in a journal. "moving on to..."

you tilt your head, giving her a nod to go on but she stares at the space behind you. you turn and see kaeya, cracking open the door with a quiet knock. you frown, his uncharacteristic actions feel so weird. he usually just blasts open the door with a flick of his wand and sashays inside.

"kaeya?" you ask after apologizing to sucrose for interrupting her. "what's up?"

the slytherin clears his throat, opening the door more widely. "may i have a moment of your time? preferably not here, though."

he's so... formal. unlike himself.

you wave goodbye to sucrose and promise her to do another experiment next time then direct your attention back to the boy in front of you. "sure, outside?"

he nods. with a swish of his robes, he walks out. you note his posture is so unlike him. his strides are more rigid, less carefree. it's like a comparison from a beauty model to an uptight CEO.

he leads you right in a place where you can see the black lake. it's awfully farther than you expected. you thought he was going to lead to to the court yard, or at least the slytherin common room.

"kaeya, you're not acting like yourself." you comment.

"haha!" an airy laugh escapes from someone. you jolt, surprised from the unexpected guest. you feel two hands clamp your shoulders. "you're absolutely right, my dear."

you knit your brows, walking away from kaeya and... diluc. you slap a hand over your mouth. "wait, diluc- did you just laugh?!" did he just call you 'my dear' with a peppy tone

kaeya grumbles in displeasure. his arms cross while his brother leans on him with a carefree attitude.

you make an 'o' shape with your lips, piecing the clues together. "oh.. oh." you try to remain stoic and serious about the situation, seeing how uncomfy kaeya- no- how uncomfy diluc is.

you gasp out laughing, clutching your stomach. you crouch on the ground unable to control your laughs and look up to the brothers with tears in your eyes, "oh- please! you've switched bodies! how?!"

no wonder the slytherin had been acting all curt and polite. diluc in kaeya's body pinches the bridge of his nose. "the new first year did this," he starts to explain. "took one look at me and said, 'i will destroy the wine industry!' i don't even know how the kid knows of my family's business in the muggle world."

"placed a spell on us with weird words while having a quidditch practice match," kaeya finishes. "but really, who doesn't know of the winery? even the purest of purebloods know of it."

kaeya (still in diluc's body) looks at the red portion of his robes with a scrunched up nose. you're unable to tell if he hates how the robe feels on him. or if he hates wearing gryffindor's colours.

you hum, scratching your head. "you want me to undo the spell, right?"

"if it isn't a problem," diluc presses his lips together. with one glance at your unsure face, his shoulders droop. "you don't know how, do you..."

you smile sympathetically. "i'll try my best to undo it, but just in case, we need to find that first year, to the source itself"

kaeya raises his arms behind his now red hair, "great! it feels so weird to be seeing with both my eyes. or well, with both diluc eyes. the kid's name is diona. she's also in slytherin like me. diluc will lead you to her."

"what? why me," diluc asks.

"because you're the one who looks like me, duh! i cant go in the slytherin common room if i look like gryffindor prefect. just bring [y/n] with you. childe can also help-"

diluc glowers, "you still hang around that scum?"

"you still keep that vase?" kaeya throws sweet poison to diluc.

you chuckle nervously when you see them bring their wands out. "so, diona? let's find her."

kaeya raises a brow, and smirks. "toodles~! i dont want to spend another minute in this grump's body. that donna girl keeps trying to give me a pie- i dont want seven different pies." he wriggles his fingers to show his goodbye.

you shiver. it's so weird to see diluc- when you know diluc isn't actually diluc in his body. but his face keeps smiling and showing emotions with kaeya's soul inside. it's weird to not see only little quirks of his mouth or his typical sighs.

but really though, you could stare at kaeya's new face. it's strange seeing diluc with a scheming face: the one kaeya typically wears

"please at least try to not get into any trouble..." diluc purses his lips. "i'll try to act like you- you try to act like me."

you stare at diluc with owlish eyes. diluc? acting like kaeya?

it seems kaeya has the same reaction, because he freezes. luckily for him, he's quick witted, "oh? act like you?" he musters the grouchiest face and crosses his arms. "hello, i am diluc ragnvindr. i am a grouchy gryffindor. i hate kaeya. i hate lots of slytherins, especially the beautiful, gorgeous asshole named kaeya," he praises himself.

diluc fights the urge to throw him into the black lake. you laugh, dragging diluc away and leading him to where the slytherin common room is.

"i've only been here once, but i am acquainted with childe, so he can show us around." you bump his side playfully and stand outside the slytherin common room.

"CHILDE." you yell with your hands amplifying the noise.

"WHADDUP SHAWTY," you hear a shout from behind you.

you nod to diluc, encouraging him to somehow find a way to get the slytherin password from childe. you know he hates him, but you want to see dilucs words come true. you want to see how he acts as kaeya.

he lets out a shaky sigh and smiles so casually. the smile is so pretty, it hurts. it's a shame he doesn't do that with his own face.

childe beams seeing the two of you, "hey comrades! what are you all standing around for?" he prods around, eying diluc then snaps his fingers as if realizing something.

you wait a bit for diluc to say something, or act more, but it seems he's done his acting gig and goes straight to the point. "what's the password?"

you deadpan. childe's gonna question him now and he'd have to say he's actually dilu-

"yeah sure no problem! it's 'reckoning'"

diluc says the word to a blank wall and enters through the door. you squint your eyes and make a face at childe. "you're up to something, i know."

he shrugs and pushes you in after diluc. "tell diona i said hi."

...

you sit at the lounge, waiting for diluc to show up with diona. your brows crease, because diluc is right. childe knows something others don't. you don't recall telling childe you were trying to find diona.

you doubletake, seeing a hufflepuff drinking an absurd amount of butterbeer from who knows where. they hang their arms around a slender, purple haired slytherin who tries to push him off with disgust.

what is venti doing hanging out with the slytherin queen. he'll die-

"venti," you hiss, reaching out to try and let him live a bit longer.

he hiccups and waves you over. he 'whispers' to the slytherin next to him. oh he's in trouble now. "psst, baal. is that the one all the slytherins are talking about?" his whispers are shouts at this point.

the slytherins at the lounge freeze, hoping you havent caught on yet.

baal hits venti's head with a hand, "shut up. you're ruining the plan."

you snort seeing venti spill his drink on his clothes.

"but baal," venti downs what's left in his mug. "if that grumpy gryffindor wont confess to [y/n] then how on earth is the plan even going to work? he barely even talks to [y/n] these days because hee likes [y/n] too much." he says as if you're not in the room. he continues babbling even after baal kicks his shins, "kaeya's plan won't work if diona-"

oh shit so it's kaeya's plan and every slytherin is on it

baal drags venti out of the common room and throws him out and all the other slytherins hastily leave to their own rooms.

diluc coughs from behind you, now transformed to his normal self and with who you assume is diona. pink peppers his face while he tried to cover his face with his fiery hair. "um, i found diona. she swapped me back."

diona sticks her tongue out. "that ugly kaeya made a deal with me on something and i had to oblige! it's honestly so pathetic how you can't confess so deal or no deal: i had to do it, but the uglier bard ruined the whole plan so i turned you back."

diluc dusts imaginary dust off his cloak and grasps your hands. he looks down to his feet, still unsure of whether to do this or not. "well, you heard it all. it's a shame it couldn't be from me but-" he rambles. with other's he's confident, but with you he's a mess. "i hope you can accept my feelings. if not i understand, i'll go on with my day and you'll never have to see me."

he holds his breath, silently quivering with the lack of response you give. a hand lifts his chin up and he stares at your eyes, nervous.

you didn't say anything, but you smile and give his the warmest hug.

he knows the answer now.

he wraps his arms back, silently thanking kaeya for his idiotic plan. it's stupid, but it worked in the end.

BONUS!:

"KAEYA I WILL FUCKING MURDER YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS"

kaeya swirls a gold goblet with sparkling grape juice inside. he wolfishly grins and holds his cup up with a hand. "a toast for master diluc! for finally confessing, if people can even call it that."

he lowers it, placing it on his lips but never drinking it. he grins under the cup seeing diluc's wand in his hand flaming red.

"it's not even my fault." kaeya starts to explain his bullshit to diluc, "you can blame yourself. honestly, it gets tiring seeing you pine for so long and avoiding them like you weren't childhood friends with them."

the tips of diluc's ears turn red, not wanting to agree with his brother, but it was true. he was hopeless in the romantic department by himself. he can reject thousands and millions of people. he can have who ever he wants, but you aren't "whoever." you're the most special someone to him and that made him scared.

kaeya hands his drink to diluc, "do i get a thank you?"

diluc scoffs, yet accepts the drink. "thank you," he quietly mutters.

part 3: thoma, zhongli

[maybankiara]

YOU’RE IN MY HEAD

pairing: Footballer!Rafe Cameron x Reader

summary: When he keeps putting you off your position during matches, you decide to take it up with him -- unbeknownst to you, there’s more to Rafe than just wanting to prevent you from being a good football player (and it’s called unresolved sexual tension.)

w/c: 4k

a/n: happy valentine’s day!! @drewstarkey and i have a whole football!obx au (soccer, for you americans) planned that i keep putting off, so here’s a little something loosely inspired by the idea, until that finally arrives. also, in this universe, football is a unisex sport. i’m not a football expert so there may be some inaccuracies. i hope you enjoy both the day and the fic! (and do let me know if this football!fic is what people are interested in.)

masterlist

It’s the half-time of one of the better matches the team has played this season and, of course, Rafe Cameron ruins it by uttering a single sentence: ‘Y/N, you’re swapping positions with Kiara.’

 The captain’s orders don’t end here, and he decides to implement some more strategies the team has practiced before, adapting the approach to the heavy-defence strategy that North Carolina is playing tonight. Sarah gives you a sympathetic look and a tap on your hand, but all you can do is shake your head.

 This is the third time in a row Rafe has put you on the sidelines, basically. Always swapping with Kiara, whom everybody knows to be a lot fiercer right back than you, or anyone else on the team. Just like you’re better at being in the front, charging for the goal.

 When the changes are in place and there’s about five minutes left, Rafe asks if anyone has got questions. Peterkin stays quiet and lets Captain Cameron take over, just like she always does.

 You raise your hand, and Rafe calls on you. ‘What the fuck, Rafe? Why are you putting me in the back again?’

 His jaw clenches. ‘We need someone firmer on the front.’

 ‘But you also need a firm defence,’ you argue. ‘You’re not making any sense.’

 He stares at you and you hold his gaze, unwavering, feeling his sister stir next to you. On the other end of the locker room, Kiara pulls her jersey down, biting her lip. ‘Y/N’s right—’

 ‘I know what I’m doing,’ Rafe cuts her off. ‘Now let’s get back on the field.’

 You listen to what he says, but not without letting your disagreement with his choice be written all over your face. When you’re headed out, he’s waiting to be the last, and you bump into him as you’re walking out, shoulder to shoulder, torso to torso.

 He glares, and you clench your teeth, trailing behind Pope.

 Back on the field, time flies. You warm up quickly and it’s back in the game again, only on a different position than where you started. Kiara offers you a sympathetic glance, much like the one Sarah gave you, because everyone is starting to notice that Rafe is treating you differently.

 As you run, a little out of the grounds he told you you’d be covering, saving the ball more than a handful of times, you feel his watchful eyes on you. You’re not meant to be playing the right back but you’d rather do your best, even if it means overexerting yourself, just to make sure you don’t lose.

 You foul an opposing player and drop to the ground, feeling your ankle get sore; Rafe’s the first to get to your side, helping you up. ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’

 It’s a free kick, but not a yellow, so you say, ‘Whatever it takes.’

 ‘Don’t go breaking your legs, Y/N.’

 You pull your arm out of his hold, sending a glare his way as you go back to your position. You should keep paying attention to the ball, because it’s about to be kicked, but you can’t help but shout, ‘If you let me play what I’m supposed to play, maybe I’ll listen!’

 The game picks up. You dive a few more times, Kiara gets a nasty foul that has her off the pitch for about half a minute, Topper gets a cramp, JJ fouls in the front and gets a yellow, John B and Rafe nearly start a scrap when someone gets Sarah to the ground – but you win.

 That should be what’s important, you think as the entire team is hugging and celebrating, but your heart isn’t in the right place.

 Playing football is far from fun when you keep being treated like a lesser player than someone else.

 Time wears on, the team gets changed, and it’s time for a proper celebration, down at the Wreck. Sarah tries getting your spirits up, even Kiara tries telling you that at least you evaded getting fouled like that, Kelce tells you that you saved his ass, but none of it matters – not when Rafe celebrates as if what he’s doing is right.

 Seriously. Three matches. It’s fucking ridiculous at this point.

 You approach Rafe without hesitation, but still keep your voice hushed, because you’re not exactly trying to ruin everybody’s happiness with your tension. ‘Can we talk?’

 He glances at you as he pulls his jersey over his head – your eyes drop to his lean torso, despite the fact you see it on an almost weekly basis.

 ‘There’s nothing to talk about,’ he says, and takes his shorts off. ‘You were good today, as a right back.’

 ‘That’s not my— Jesus, do you need to be half naked right now?’

 ‘What?’ he asks, almost innocently, but the grin betrays him. ‘I’m getting changed. Why are you getting so worked up?’

 ‘I’m not—’ You pinch the bridge of your nose, letting out an exasperated huff as he takes off his socks, too, and is now wearing literally just boxers. ‘You’re ridiculous.’

 He chuckles, dropping down on the bench. You half-wonder what Topper, sitting next to him, must be thinking – and realise that most of the team is taking selfies and chatting in the other end of the locker room. It’s just you and Rafe.

 Good.

 He looks up at you from the bench, manspreading with his back leaning on the wall. ‘What do you want?’

 ‘I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m kind of trying to have a serious conversation with you right now.’

 ‘Yeah, I got that.’

 He’s hot. Okay, he’s hot and the reason why you’re so bothered about him being almost naked is because it’s taking your mind off of what you’re wanting to talk about, and giving a different meaning to you being “worked up”.

 So you gather all your courage and bring your eyes up to meet his, trying to exude as much fierceness as you can muster. ‘I need you to let me play on my position. I’ve had enough, you can’t keep doing that if you’re not training me to play Kiara’s.’

 ‘Easy,’ he says, shrugging. ‘Then we’ll train you.’

 Your jaw drops. ‘Are you being fucking serious right now?’

 Before he gets to answer, JJ calls from the other end that they need to hurry up, if the team wants to make it to the Wreck at a normal time. It breaks whatever moment you and Rafe were sharing and, telling him the conversation isn’t over, you retreat back to your locker. It takes all you’ve got to not let this affect the celebratory mood, because winning 2 - 0 is pretty damn good, and you should take some credit for that. Even if it wasn’t on your position, for half of the match.

 It ends up not being so difficult, actually, to not think about what happened. Once you’re back in Kildare and at the Wreck, food and drinks are flowing, and as long as Rafe is out of your earshot and sight, it’s good. He tends to stay away from you most times, anyway.

 (Which, okay, you can admit now sometimes bothers you, you’ve had a few drinks.)

 It’s not so difficult, until JJ lounges in the chair next to you, beer can in one hand and a donut in another, asks, ‘What’s up with you and Cap’n?’

 ‘Don’t even get me started,’ you sigh. ‘I don’t know what crawled up his ass.’

 ‘Language, Y/N.’

 ‘Fuck off, Maybank.’

 The blond just grins, probably happy to see you slightly irritated – but not at him.

 He pushes the chair back from swinging into its normal position, resting his elbows on the table. He leans towards you as if he’s about to tell you a secret – even his eyebrows furrow, the ever-present smile shaping into a frown. ‘Seriously, he keeps pushing you in the back. He’s gotta have a reason for that.’

 ‘Not that I’d know of,’ you admit. You shrug, lightly, despite the actual weight of the subject. ‘I thought we made a good team in the front. He assisted me, I assisted him… It’s been working well.’

 JJ nods, pondering. ‘It was the game against New Jersey, right?’

 ‘The last time I played without the change?’ You play until JJ nods, then sigh, playing with a broken piece hanging off the wooden table. ‘I didn’t even get to play, since that bitch nearly sprained my ankle.’

 ‘It’s always your ankle,’ JJ says, chuckling.

 His thoughts take him to stories of all the injuries you and the rest of team have gotten so far, drawing a couple of your teammates into the conversation. Rafe slips off your mind for the most part, as you laugh along to the ridiculous number of times Kelce has faceplanted while tackled, or to Pope is retelling how he defended the goal by getting the ball in his nuts, which made him fear for his offspring (it was all fun, and makes for a hilarious story).

 It’s only when you glance around the table and catch him in conversation with Topper, or James, or Sarah, and his eyes are trained on you for just a moment before they’re gone – as if he wants you to see him, but wants you to question whether it was an accident. You feel yourself growing stiff; when it happens too many times, your mind flashes back to the locker room – you, trying to talk to him; Rafe, half naked, grinning at you like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

 He’s conceited. He’s selfish. He’s attractive, with that prep-boy look around him that falls apart when he’s leading the charge on the pitch – when the wisps of blond frame the sharp lines of his face, and he embodies the look of the leader he’s become.

 It just sucks that you don’t quite agree with his leadership, and he doesn’t quite agree with you speaking up about it.

 Night wears on, and your teammates flock to their beds, one by one. You’re only staying at the Wreck, the local hotel, for a night – tomorrow’s a new day, a new tournament. It would be smart to go to sleep early. Get the energy you need for tomorrow, because tomorrow’s filled with press conferences, which you don’t tend to enjoy.

 It would also be smarter to deal with the captain tomorrow morning, when you’re both sober, instead of the buzz running through your veins right now.

 By the time it hits midnight, it’s only you, JJ, Pope, Kiara, Rafe, and Topper. Instead of taking the big table at the wreck, the few of you retreated to a secluded one in the corner of the hotel’s dining room. Topper’s beating everyone at cards, but Kiara’s at his neck, and everyone has downed enough drinks for the night to be called quits soon enough; you are starting to sober up, and can already feel the headache looming.

 Inadvertently, you glance at Rafe. He’s holding his cards in one hand, spread evenly, long fingers adorned with rings keeping them in place. Across from you, his eyes don’t meet yours, as they look around the table, through everybody’s poker faces – you notice the angle of his cheekbones, the sharpness of his jawline, the unstyled hair having the slightest bit of a messy wave to it. You hate how much attention you pay to the parting of his lips, and the line of his nose, the curve of his eyes; his Adam’s apple bobbing as he taunts Pope across the table, trying to get him to break the cards.

 When he turns as if scalded and his eyes meet yours, you don’t avert your gaze.

 It might be the alcohol, but the room is starting to feel a little stuffy, a little warm; you’ve never realised how intense his gaze can be. It’s almost as if it’s unguarded, spiked with the few drinks everyone’s had.

 You clear your throat, looking at your cards – you’re definitely not going to be the one winning anytime soon. ‘I think I’ll head to bed, soon.’

 If anybody notices the fluttering of your voice, they don’t comment on it. Kiara nods, JJ boos you, and Rafe says: ‘We should all probably head to bed if we want to be ready for tomorrow.’

 ‘Okay, Cap’n,’ says Topper, resting an arm around the blond’s shoulders. ‘You go get your beauty sleep, me and the boys are going to let you know how it went when you wake up in the morning, princess.’

 Kiara clears her throat, drawing the attention to herself before quirking an eyebrow at Topper. ‘What’s making you think you’re getting rid of me?’

 There’s a collective of ooh’s, and you think about staying, but it wouldn’t be smart. Rafe’s right, you all would be better getting some sleep, but there’s also the fact that you’re pissed at him and you’re drunk enough for that to be making you seem in a bit of a different light.

 (You’re still struggling to breathe, a little bit. Hopefully no one has noticed.)

 In the end, you bid everyone goodnight, pay your bill, and head for your room. You’re still not feeling well and there’s a water dispenser in the ground hallway, opposite end of where the stairs to the upper floor are. You think about making a cup of tea, but settle for water – water is good.

 Cold water should unhaze your mind.

 You stay in the hallway, for a little pit – it’s peaceful here. Hallways have meant something to you ever since your team’s career started to take off two years ago. Wherever you go, rooms and places are different, but hallways are nearly always the same. They’re always just transit spaces, connecting point A with point B; it’s not quite a liminal space, but it’s where you feel like nothing can hurt you.

 That is, until you’re about to set your foot on the stairs, and you see Rafe walking out of the toilets.

 His eyes settle on you at the same moment and both of you freeze; the hallway is quiet, save for the music reaching it from the dining hall. You can almost hear your heart beating.

 ‘Thought you were going to bed.’

 You raise your glass, which you refilled just before embarking for your room. ‘Had to stop for a bit.’

 He nods, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Outside of the locker room, outside of the dining hall, he doesn’t seem like the overconfident Rafe you’ve got so much against. He still is the same – it just doesn’t show that much.

 ‘I meant what I said earlier,’ he says, slowly, as if the words are hard to push out. ‘I think your should train to be right back.’

 If you had half a shot more, you would’ve thrown the water into his face. Now, all you do, is say – ‘You’re an asshole, Cameron.’ – and go up the stairs. For a moment there’s nothing, but then there’s rushed footsteps coming up the stairs, and you feel a hand on your wrist, and his voice calling your name.

 You don’t turn around instantly. You’re too angry for that – you close your eyes instead, and breathe, before collecting yourself enough to not explode.

 He’s still holding your wrist when you turn around, and he’s close enough that you can almost feel the heat radiating off his body; the cologne mixed with the scent of fresh clothes.

 ‘Please don’t be angry with me.’

 You scoff, pulling your hand out of his grip. ‘You’re ruining my life. You know how important this is to me, and you keep— you keep putting me where I don’t belong!’

 ‘I’m sorry,’ he says, and he sounds earnest; he sounds the way his face looks – a small frown on his face, lips quivering breathlessly, the wrinkles around his eyes almost pleading with her. ‘I’m just doing what’s best for everybody, Y/N.’

 ‘I don’t play defence. That’s Kiara’s job, but apparently that’s not good enough for you. You know where I’m good at.’

 ‘You’re good playing any position.’ He says it quick, as if the words escape from him. He swallows loudly enough that she hears him and takes a step back, shaking his head. ‘Look, you’re one of the best players on the team. That’s why—’

 ‘Then why don’t you put me where I can be the best?’

 ‘Y/N, just trust me, okay?’

 ‘No,’ you say, crossing the distance he created between the two of you until his back’s pressed against the wall, and you’re right in front of him, a finger jabbed into his chest. ‘I want to know why you’re doing this.’

 He hesitates; you feel his heart beating faster than you thought possible. ‘We were playing against rough teams. I couldn’t let you get hurt.’

 You scoff again, half-laughing as you rub your forehead with the back of your hand. ‘That’s bullshit. Jesus, Rafe, you’re spewing shit.’

 ‘Look, it’s the truth. I couldn’t take that risk.’

 ‘But you could take that risk with Kiara.’

 ‘Yes.’

 No hesitation; no wavering. It’s something he must’ve thought through, over and over again, for the answer to be so certain. You’re a little taken aback, and your finger falls from his chest, but the distance is still almost nonexistent.

 It’s because I’m good, you tell yourself, that’s why he’s keeping you safe, but it doesn’t ring true. Not when you can smell his cologne and not when his eyes drop to your lips, cheeks flushed.

 So you decide to ask why.

 He hesitates again, and you feel his shoulder slump as thoughts run through his head. Whatever he settles on, he’s certain, and you can see it. His voice is almost sad when he admits, ‘After the game against New Jersey, I couldn’t stand the thought of you getting hurt. I couldn’t lose you on the pitch, because when you weren’t around, it was like I couldn’t get my head straight.’ He pauses, and then: ‘I’m sorry.’

 Rafe breathes slowly, carefully, but your heart is racing around your ribcage, threatening to break through. His words echo around your head as you try to make sense of them – make sense of the way he felt like it was more than just a admission of being a good team – make sense of the way he’s looking at you like he’s expecting more than a reaction to the recognition of your worth as a teammate.

 There’s a feeling in your chest that you can’t describe. It’s in your throat, in the back of your head, burning through your ears – a thought almost too scary to form, but then it does, and it refuses to leave.

 So you swallow the gulp in your throat and ask, ‘Is my being good on the pitch the only reason?’

 A beat. ‘No.’

 You nod, slowly, as if in a trance. His eyes are gazing into yours with intensity you’ve never felt before – it’s as if he’s asking you to say something, to do something, to show that you understand what he’s saying without saying it.

 And you do.

 You do.

 You nod, and your lips are on his before you get the chance to think this through. His hands are quick to grab your waist as your fingers get tangled in the soft waves of his hair, bodies pressing against one another in a heated rush.

 ‘We shouldn’t be doing this,’ he mutters, a moment before his lips find your neck, fingers slipping underneath your top, dipping into the skin on your back. You moan, a little too loud, and he laughs against your neck. ‘We really shouldn’t.’

 ‘Yeah, we shouldn’t,’ you agree, watching him as he pulls his head back to look at you, a dazed smile on his face. ‘My room or yours?’

 Rafe’s grin is enough to set your body on fire. ‘Yours is closer.’

 He kisses you again, a firm kiss planted on your lips, before taking your hand and letting you lead to your room. The moment the door is locked, your lips are on his neck, clothes are clumsily coming off on your way to the bed, and you only have a second to wonder how long this has been inevitable until his lips hit the right spot, and every thought is as good as gone.

 When you wake in the morning, you’re half-surprised to find him curled into your side, head resting on your shoulder and an arm draped over your stomach. He’s still asleep, and you take a moment to think about how calming—how right—it feels to be here, with him. The hotel room is nice, a quiet rose gold, and the light coming through the windows is making it almost ethereal.

 It doesn’t feel like a mistake. You’re still a bit angry about being pushed back, but things seem a little different now that you know he wasn’t trying to hinder you, but protect you.

 (You still need to tell him that you don’t need protecting; you know what you got yourself into when you decided to play the sport.)

 With a smile on your face, you start playing with your head. He wakes within five seconds, with the same dazed look on his face from last night. His eyes find yours and he pauses for a moment, as if he were taking it all in, before his lips find home in yours. Neither of you think about morning breath, or about the fact that you should both probably go for a shower before leaving the hotel, because Rafe snuggles into your shoulder, pressing butterfly kisses to your collarbone, as his hand traces circles around your stomach.

 You take it upon yourself to ask, ‘No regrets?’

 ‘None.’

 ‘You should have one,’ you tease, and only let him be frightened for a moment. ‘Pushing me into the back.’

 He sighs, burying his face in the crook of your neck. ‘Are we still arguing about that?’

 ‘We will be, until you let me play offense again.’

 ‘If it was you instead of Kiara yesterday, it could’ve messed with your leg,’ he says. Before you get to respond, he pushes himself off the bed so he can look at you. ‘I know your ankle is still hurting from New Jersey even if you’re not saying anything.’

 You can’t deny the truth.

 Rafe kisses your forehead. ‘Just promise me you’ll be careful.’

 ‘I always am.’

 ‘More,’ he says, breaking into a smile. ‘I need my partner back.’

 ‘If you promise to never make decisions for me without consulting me first.’

 He squints, as if thinking about it, but you can tell he isn’t. ‘I promise.’

 ‘Okay, then.’ You wrap your arms around him and pull him down, kissing him softly. ‘I promise to be more careful.’

 In the end, it’s like he promised – you go back to playing offense, in the front of every attack, and you and Rafe are back to being the dynamic scoring duo you’ve always been. Except this time this dynamic extends to beyond the field, and you support each other when the football isn’t around. Nobody is surprised by the turn of the events – you’re not entirely sure, but JJ passes Kiara a few bills when you and Rafe break the news to the team, and you think there was bets going around.

 Things get back to fine. Things get better. You end up winning the tournament, and Rafe kisses you with the cup in his hand, and the next morning, the headlines are full of your and Rafe’s names more so than your team’s, but that’s fine. You’ve made it.

 You’ve got everything you need – you just never thought it’d be no one other than Rafe Cameron, the Captain himself.

[burnedbyshoto]

m a s t e r l i s t (n - z)

updated: 9/27/2020

▹ - sfw

▸ - nsfw

notes: this list is put in alphabetical order by last name and then from oldest to most recent fic. please do not judge any of the older pieces too harshly as they were pretty bad! as of january 2020, drabbles will no longer be added to masterlist.

this is the masterlist for characters with last names n - z

masterlist for characters with last names a - m

do not repost any of my fics without permission.

sero hanta

▸ pocky challenge — kinktober day 10 (scenario)

▸▹ alphabet hc’s — nsfw and sfw alphabet (hc)

▹ colors — you can see peoples colorful auras (scenario)

shigaraki tomura

▹ kitty cat — shigaraki is a cat hybrid with a rash (hc)

▸ ready player one — kinktober day 5 (scenario)

▸ ahegao face — his reaction to your ahegao face (drabble)

▸ power — you were known to bring powerful men to their knees (scenario)

shindou yo

▸ twice — kinktober day 30 (drabble)

shinsou hitoshi

▸ cat lingerie — shinsou catches you in cat shaped lingerie (hc)

▹ ignored — in which he doesn’t acknowledge you anymore (drabble)

▹ don’t do this — being a hero means making hard calls (drabble)

▹ blood — please don’t close your eyes (drabble)

▸ torture threesome — in which shinsou is your third with bakugou (drabble)

▹ soulmate shit — you two just can’t be seperated can you (drabble)

▸ fantasy — you’re hot and you flaunt it (drabble)

▹ heartbreak — shinsou’s hiding a secret from you (drabble)

▸ here, kitty, kitty — kinktober day 9 (scenario)

▸ trust — kinktober day 25 (scenario)

▸ dom!shinsou — what’s he into when he doms (hc)

▸ orgies — more todobakukiri now with shinsou action (hc)

▸ scarves — using a capturing weapon in bed is a thing (drabble)

▹ study dates — studying with shinsou is always a trip (drabble)

▹ distractions — you can never focus when you study with him (drabble)

▸ jealous — when men touch you, shinsou gets jealous (drabble)

▸ sensei — being a pro hero means having a will of steel, too bad for shinsou that will of steel has one major kryptonite: a schoolgirls skirt. (scenario)

takami keigo (hawks)

▸ situational — you two are stuck together and tension rises (drabble)

▹ phoenix — you have a quirk that gives you the hero name phoenix (hc)

▸ caught in the act — kinktober day 15 (scenario)

▸ heats — how takami is during his heats (drabble)

▸ his ahegao — you react to his ahegao face (hc)

▸ ahegao face — takami reacts to your ahegao face (hc)

▸ overstimulation — how he overstimulates you (hc)

▸▹ alphabet hc’s — nsfw and sfw alphabet (hc)

▸ booty — slap his ass (drabble)

▸ dorm room — in which takami sneaks into your dorm room (drabble)

▹ asexual — he finds out you’re asexual (hc)

▸▹ dating — hc’s for dating takami (hc)

▹ because I love you — he broke up with you to save you, but he still wants you (scenario)

▹ frosting mishaps — baking with takami is disastrous as always (scenario)

▹ do you trust me — will you take the birds hand or die? (drabble)

takeyama yu (mt. lady)

▸ lingerie dreams — kinktober day 21 (scenario)

todoroki enji (endeavor)

▸ seven — rich and powerful men can marry seven different women in a wild attempt to produce the perfect heir. todoroki enji is one of these powerful men, and you’re his seventh bride. (scenario)

todoroki touya dabi

▹ stronger than you — dabi is a dad now and his son is just like him (scenario)

▸ dominate him — you’re a lady in the sheets and a freak in the sheets (hc)

▸ werewolf lover — they’re horny and you’re asexual (hc)

▹ stay in bed — dabi doesn’t want to let you go in the morning (drabble)

▹ wedding date — youre desperate for a date, and dabi wants a kiss (drabble)

▸ louder — make dabi a subby bitch (hc)

▹ 2 am call — you need dabi at two in the morning (drabble)

▹ laughter — dabi’s laugh is not cute but thats okay (drabble)

▸ scream my name — dabi won’t stop until you’re screaming (drabble)

▸ add another — how many fingers will fit in you (drabble)

▸ blindfolds — with no sight you sit and wait (drabble)

▹ glass doors — you run into a glass door (drabble)

▸ no boundaries — dabi will fuck you anywhere no matter the mood (drabble)

▹ you missed — getting stuck in a closet is always weird (drabble)

▸ 4 times dabi wanted you; 1 time he got you — kinktober day 1 (scenario)

▸ piercings — what piercings does he have? (hc)

▸ ahegao face — dabi reacts to your ahegao face (hc)

▸ size — dabi with a size kink (hc)

▹ happy birthday — sometimes dabi just needs a hug (drabble)

todoroki natsuo

▹ todoroki-sensei — todoroki natsuo is an esteemed trauma surgeon, and you’re the volunteer that won’t leave his mind (scenario)

▸ study breaks — natsuo needs a break and you’ll give him one (drabble)

▸ mamihlapinatapai — mamihlapinatapai: the wordless yet meaningful look shared by two people who desire to initiate something, but are both reluctant to start. (scenario)

todoroki shouto

▹ strawberry milk and watermelon seeds — first piece on tumblr (scenario)

▹ childhood lover — going from childhood friends to lovers (hc)

▹ seven days late -  part two— shouto leaves for seven days and has nothing to say for it (scenario) 

▹ sleeping — how the two of you sleep together (hc)

▹ not ready — shouto reveals the horrors of his childhood (scenario)

▹ welcome home: the series — part one  part two  part three  part four  part five the adventures of your family with shouto and your baby, kaito. (scenarios)

▹ captured — in which youre captured by villains and chaos starts (hc)

▸ and they were roommates: the series — part one  part two  part three modern!au. there are many issues when getting a new roommate. you just never expected your issue would be fucking your hot roommate every chance you had (scenario)

▹ i love you? — shouto realizes he’s in love with you and needs help (hc)

▹ lip synch queen — you enjoy lip synching songs to shouto (hc)

▹ I think I’m pregnant — you believe you’re pregnant with your ex’s baby (hc)

▹ meeting the todorokis — shouto introduces you to his family finally (scenario)

▹ concerts and songs — shouto takes you on a date to a concert (scenario)

▹ staying home — you like to stay home and thats okay (scenario)

▸ I hate you - part two — shouto is a villain and you’re the one he’s after (scenario)

▹ gone for too long — long distance relationships suck sometimes (scenario)

▹ hollow — youre an assassian; shouto is your target (hc)

▸ dominate him — you’re a lady in the sheets and a freak in the sheets (hc)

▸ my girl — jealous lovers and work don’t mix (scenario) part two

▹ drinks — shouto is upset and you are on the receiving end (drabble)

▹ confessions — you’re dying and you have to confess (drabble)

▹ come back — shouto doesn’t want to leave the bed (drabble)

▸ fuckboy — in which shouto is a fuckboy and you’re his target (drabble)

▹ dumbass — you threaten shouto with a good time (drabble)

▹ you never came — shouto never shows up to a date (drabble)

▹ apologies — shouto apologizes for being mean (drabble)

▹ hold me — shouto’s quirks come in handy to keep warm or cold (drabble)

▹ what’s happening — shouto bangs his head really hard (drabble)

▸ broken hopes — makeup sex is bittersweet (drabble)

▸ dirty talk — you help shouto improve his dirty talk (drabble)

▸ spring showers — bodies slick with rain, lips dancing with passion (oneshot)

▹ sickness and affliction — shouto burns you (scenario)         part two  alt ending  actual fluff ending

▹ believe in me — all you want is for shouto to believe in you the same way he believes in momo (scenario)

▸ body swap — you trade bodies with shouto, hormones ensue (drabble)

▸ shut up — shouto fucks you on the common room couch (drabble)

▹ tsundere — you’re a bit of a tsundere (hc)

▹ done — theres always bitterness in cheating (drabble)

▹ my heart — shouto is a fighter and youre the girl who cant watch him dance with death anymore (drabble)

▸ like ice — you’re as cold as ice and shouto has to warm you up ;) (scenario)

▹ cupcakes — you make cupcakes with shouto (hc)

▹ gone — youre gone and shouto is not okay (drabble)

▹ drinking — you get drunk with shouto (hc)

▹ phoenix — you have a quirk that gives you the hero name phoenix (hc)

▸ awaken — kinktober day 4 (scenario)

▹ faint — you wont let shouto die, not now (drabble)

▹ trust me — kissing a pretty girl is always a good distraction (drabble)

▸ orders — shouto orders you to touch yourself (drabble)

▹ ships — you make a cardboard ship with shouto (drabble)

▹ because of you — shouto gives a lovely speech about you (scenario)

▸ attraction — kinktober day 27 (scenario)

▸ sugar daddy — shouto as your sugar daddy (hc)

▹ of love and flowers — you’re in love with shouto, but is it a tragedy? (scenario)

▸ usagi and hito — kinktober day 31 (scenario)

▸ foursome — todobakukiri foursome (hc)

▸ sub — how he is as a sub (hc)

▸ ahegao face — how he reacts to your ahegao face (hc)

▸ orgies — more todobakukiri now with shinsou action (hc)

▹ happiness: the series — soulmates have the name of their other half inked on their wrists on the youngest eighteenth birthday, but why is yours rejecting you?            happiness part one  bravado part two  amelioration part three

▸▹ alphabet hc’s — nsfw and sfw alphabet (hc)

▹ marshmallow kisses — roasting marshmallows with shouto (scenario)

▹ fools — shouto is in love with you, but no one wants to confess (scenario)

▸ bathtub memories — you masturbate to an old memory (scenario)

▸ under the mistletoe — the mistletoe tradition is known by all, and if used correctly it can end in a sweet moment. too bad shouto believes that people fuck under the mistletoe and not kiss under it.

▹ distractions — you can never focus when you study with him (drabble)

▹ tortillas — you use shouto to make tortillas (drabble)

▹ writers block — you have writers block and shouto comforts you (scenario)

▹ replacement — momo dies and you and shouto try healing together (scenario)             renewed part two

▹ love letters — shouto writes a letter for every day the two of you are together (scenario)

▹ fifteen kisses — fourteen different kisses you give shouto; the one different kiss he gives you (scenario)

▹ exchange — shouto would do anything for you, even dying for you (drabble)

▸ desperate — shouto takes teasing to the extreme (drabble)

▹ too late — shoutos realization is too late (drabble)

▸ please leave — you wake up to see pro heroes shouto and ground zero naked in your bedroom (drabble)

▸ house sitting & concupcience — in which Endeavor asks Shouto for a favor, and Shouto decides to take his payment by fucking you on his bed. 

▸ winner takes it all — shouto wins a contest where the grand prize is getting to have you sit on his face.

▹ memories — shouto loses his memories, and you can’t do anything but watch as your world falls apart.

▸ wall fucks — shouto fucks you against a wall in endeavors agency.

▸ seven minutes — shouto signs up to have anonymous sex; you’re the lucky bitch who gets him. 

▹ a brush of luck — in a world where soulmates exist you can communicate yours with a brush of a pen. It just doesn’t help that you are a certified idiot with a skill in misplacing things. 

▸ forehead fantasies — you can’t help but fantasize on your boyfriend’s forehead that always remains hidden.  

▹ pay attention to me — you want shouto’s attention, but he’s a bit too occupied with trivial things. 

▹ shallow or deep — “why would you want a guy with such a large and disgusting burn?” he whispered, his tone thoroughly rejected, broken. it was then that it hit you: did he think he wasn’t good enough for you?

▹ model-worthy — sleepy mornings in with shouto.

▸ deception — “don’t you see what he’s doing to you?! he’s hurt you way more than what’s acceptable in a sparring march! you’re bruised and hurting, and he sure as hell doesn’t seem to care that this is the state he’s left you in.” — or in which, hawks manipulates how you view your boyfriend, shouto.

▸ aphrodite — “aphrodite is just a stage name, but the persona is still you. you might be a total dork, but the person you think you present has always been apart of you.” — or, in which pro hero shouto falls in love with a dominatrix cam girl, only to find out that she’s quite a weirdo in real life.

▹ eternal love — a simple love story between a tattoo artist and a flower shop owner.

▸ taoreta — the world is in ruins, but there’s beauty in everything. shouto is reminded of that when he crosses paths with a survivor who kisses him at the first meeting. 

▹ strawberry milk and strawberry milk (rewritten) — how to get through the worst summer heat: have a sweet drink, eat sweet fruit, and have someone with the sweetest kiss around.

▹ before you go — before you go, tell me this meant something to you.

▸ hole in the wall — in a party for the ages, Shouto comes across a room with holes in the wall that has him coming back for more. 

togata mirio

▸ teasing — touching yourself means teasing mirio (drabble)

▹ dead — you died and now mirio can’t live (drabble)

▸ until the last one comes — kinktober day 7 (scenario)

▸ ahegao face — how he reacts to your ahegao face (hc)

▹ sunflower — mirio tries figuring out a nickname for you (oneshot)

▸ the big three — they want you (hc)

▹ asexual — he finds out you’re asexual (hc)

▸ itadakimasu — mirio always says one thing before eating, yes that includes you (drabble)

▸ doggy style — mirio fucks you good (hc)

▹ christmas morning — mirio gives you a wonderful christmas morning (scenario)

▸ unbreakable — mirios afraid to hurt you, but you want more (drabble)

▹ soulmates — soulmates don’t exist, but mirio thinks youre his (drabble)

toyomitsu taishiro (fatgum)

▸▹ alphabet hc’s — nsfw and sfw alphabet (hc)

▹ mornings after — taishiro always knows how to make mornings the best

uraraka ochako

▸▹ villain uraraka hc’s — nsfw and sfw alphabet (hc) 

usagiyama rumi

▹ that final phone call — miruko is one tough rabbit, but eventually even the toughest of people need a helping hand. (scenario)

utsushimi camie

▹ home for the holidays — camie meets your family (scenario)

yagi toshinori (all might)

▹ years — youre sir’s sister who was in love with all might for years (drabble)

yamada hizashi

▹ back off — even aizawa is prone to jealousy (scenario)

▹ ice skating — you go on an ice skating date with hizashi (scenario)

▹ swimsuit tops — losing your bikini top is never a good memory (scenario)

▹ sweater — you lost you sweater, you wonders who has it (drabble)

▹ laughter — hizashi has never heard you laugh before (drabble)

▹ under the mistletoe — holidays are for lovers, and you’re married (scenario)

▸ sexy times — just some headcanons (hc)

yaoyorozu momo

▸ never have I ever — kinktober day 11 (scenario)

yoarashi inasa

▹ passion, passion, and more passion — childhood friends to lovers (hc)

▸ too hot — you play a game where you’re only allowed to kiss (drabble)

▹ laughter — inasa’s laughter is loud and contagious and you love it (drabble)

▸ sensitive — inasa exploits your sensitive nipples (drabble)

▹ pounce! — inasa jumps on you (drabble)

▹ stay warm — please don’t pass out, please don’t... (drabble)

▸ fantasy — you make his wildest dream come true (drabble)

▸ bday fun — you let inasa have fun on his birthday (drabble)

▸ high sex — high sex with inasa includes (hc)

[mosylufanfic]

Color My World (just paint it with your love)

For the Killervibe Gift Swap, a gift for @ava-has-a-closet-murderboard. Eventually I hope to get everyone a gift but it’s going real slow, y’all!

You see in color when you meet your soulmate AU. (Also obviously Ronnie died the first time and didn't come back as Firestorm, sorry Ronnie.)

Title from the song Color My World by Petula Clark

Color My World (just paint it with your love)

When Ronnie died, the world went grey in an instant. 

Even as Caitlin screamed his name, she knew it was hopeless. Just the same as the world had exploded with color between one blink and the next the moment she'd met him, it reversed the moment his heart stopped beating.

-

For years, Caitlin assumed that Cisco saw the world in the same shades of grey as she did. She knew he was friendly and flirty and went on dates, and well - he was Cisco, after all. So she always expected to see him come rushing into the cortex one day, looking around at everything and seeing the colors after having met the person he was supposed to spend his life with.

So when she walked into his lab one day to find him comparing two apparently identical swatches, it was a surprise - but it wasn't.

"Cisco!" she cried, and he whirled to face her, stuffing both swatches behind his back. "Are you seeing in color?"

"Um, I - what? No. I was - comparing - um." He sagged. "Yes."

"You met your soulmate! Who is it? When can I meet them? What's their name?" She realized he wasn't looking as excited as people usually did in that first flush of color and love. "What's wrong?"

"I haven't met anyone new."

"Well, of course you have, you're seeing in color -"

"I met them years ago."

"Years? You've been seeing color all this time? You never said anything."

He nodded. "Sorry. Yeah."

"But when? And why didn't you - why aren't you - what happened?" Dramatic, overblown scenarios raced through her head, taken from cheesy cable movies with titles like "Soulmate to a Serial Killer.”

"Nothing happened, exactly. It's - " He looked away. "They're my soulmate, but I'm not theirs."

She goggled at him. You heard about those things, of course. Small percentages. Sad stories whispered behind hands. But knowing Cisco was one of them - "How do you know?"

"They'd already met their real soulmate when I met them."

She shook her head, attempting to wrap her head around it. "Are you sure? Have you told them? Have you talked about it at all?"

"Yes, I'm a hundred percent sure."

How could the universe be this cruel? Warm, laughing, loving Cisco, to be matched with someone who wasn't matched to him. To watch from the sidelines as they built a life with someone else. 

It was almost as horribly unfair as losing your soulmate. No - no. More unfair. She'd at least had a life with Ronnie, no matter how short it had been. Cisco never had that with his soulmate, and never would. 

"Why didn't you ever say anything? I always thought - "

"Because I didn't want you looking at me exactly the way you're looking at me right this very moment. Like I just told you my puppy has cancer."

She tried to rearrange her face. "I'm just -"

"Caitlin, it's fine. It happens." He shook his head a little. "I'm sorry I kept it from you."

"Who else knows?"

"Barry. And probably Iris."

"Has he met them?" A flush of - jealousy? she didn't know what to call it - washed up her throat.

"No, he doesn't even know who they are. Just that they exist." He shrugged and tossed the swatches on to the table. "Couldn't exactly keep it from him when we were designing suits together."

She said very quietly, "Did Ronnie know?"

He shook his head hard. "No, he didn't. No. Not even a suspicion. Look, I don't talk about it because there's nothing I can do about it, and there's nothing you can do about it, either. A soulmate is a soulmate, right? Even when they're not."

She reached to put her arm around his shoulder. "Cisco - "

Gently but firmly, he shrugged her hand away. "I've come to terms with it. It's just the way things are."

She swallowed hurt. "But you've been dating. Haven't you?" He had an app on his phone, and sometimes he would take it out and swipe through photos. She'd thought it was a regular app that just set you up on dates with other people who hadn't met their soulmate yet.

"It's a different kind of app. We all know the score. Nobody's on there to meet their soulmate. Just to find a good time."

"Is it just people who are - " She floundered. There was a term for people like Cisco, but to her mind, it was nasty and rude.

He said it anyway. "Third wheels?"

She made a face. It sounded even worse now that she knew it applied to him.

"Most of us, yeah. But there's a pretty good number of people who - uh - " He looked at her sidelong. "Who lost theirs."

"Oh." She couldn't imagine seeking anyone out after Ronnie. "Really?"

"Yup. I mean, they're not dead just because - well, anyway, if you ever wanna - you know. See the app. You can."

"Thank you,” she said. “But don't try to distract me. How long has it been?"

"A few years," he said. "Look, it's just a thing about me. Like having brown eyes and vibes and a rockin' fashion sense. Can you do me a solid, as a friend?"

"Anything. Of course."

"Let's never talk about this again."

Painted into a corner, she bit her lip. "Okay. If that's what you want."

"It's what I want."

Of course, she hadn't gotten the chance to ask the question that burned the most. Who was it? Who could possibly overlook Cisco? 

But she'd promised.

-

She thought about it, though. She thought about it a lot, in her cold bed, in her grey house with all the colors she couldn't see anymore. At her kitchen table, set for one. When she opened up her phone and looked at the last picture Ronnie had sent her, a selfie with a particularly gigantic donut.

In black and white, of course. Like everything else, all the pictures of him had drained of color when he died. It made everything sting worse. She'd seen his face in color from the beginning, but now she couldn't remember the exact shade of his eyes or the different tones of his hair.

She didn't ask Cisco anything more, but she did go down a rabbit hole of research. One-sided soulmate was the technical term they used in social science surveys. OSS for short. She looked at reams and reams of statistics, quantitative and qualitative and longitudinal studies. Some of the OSS's said they were happy, some were depressed, some simply accepted it. Surprisingly, the stats on their overall mental well-being weren't all that different from people who were with their soulmates, or still waiting to find them. 

Some one-sided soulmates spent their lives alone. But others dated and slept with and sometimes even married others like them.

She gave into curiosity and read the research on people who'd lost soulmates. She found the stats there very much the same. A little more depression, maybe, but there were a surprising amount of people who did just as the one-sided soulmates did - dating, sleeping with, marrying people they met. 

Sometimes those people even found a second soulmate. 

When that particular revelation popped up on her screen, she dropped a full cup of coffee and completely ruined her keyboard.

-

The day everything changed was just a regular day at first. The Flash and Vibe were out investigating a sketchy warehouse, and Caitlin was trying not to fret while reading yet another study on people who fell outside the soulmate norm. 

"Cisco!" she cried as Barry whooshed them into the cortex, almost doubled over trying to support his weight. "What happened?"

"Got my bell rung," he slurred. "Ow, dude, ow, gentle -  "

"The guy knocked him into a concrete pillar," Barry reported, settling Cisco onto the edge of the bed. 

"No, don’t lay him down. 'll take care of him. You go get changed." As he whooshed out, she gloved up quickly and checked Cisco's pupils. They were the same size, and he denied any nausea or dizziness, but she’d still have to monitor him for signs of a concussion. She set her penlight down and gasped.

"What?"

“You’re bleeding.”

He wiped his face and blood smeared across the back of his hand. “Just a bloody nose. I’ll be fine in a minute.”

She tsked and pressed a square of gauze to his nose, gently feeling its shape. It wasn’t broken. “Are your teeth okay? Your tongue?”

“Mhm.”

“Don’t lean back! Just breathe through your mouth.” After holding it a few minutes, she checked, and indeed, the blood had stopped its flow. She let him straighten up. "How's your head?"

"Could use an aspirin."

"You got it." She turned away, but before she pulled her gloves off, she looked at the blood smeared over the fingertips and soaking into the gauze.

Against the light grey of her gloves and the white of the gauze, Cisco's blood showed scarlet.

-

At first, she thought she’d been mistaken. It had just been the blood, not anything else.

But then the sprinkles on the ice cream he brought her the next day showed up vividly blue and pink and orange against the rich brown of the treat. And the chips and guac she shared with him the day after that were pale yellow and brilliant green. 

Color seeped back into her world a little at a time, mostly following Cisco. It was so different than before, but so wonderful at the same time. She'd forgotten how vivid red could be, how lavender was so delicate, how green was so rich. Sometimes she would just sit and stare at whatever had lit up today.

He noticed, of course. "What's wrong?" he asked one day, as the sunlight filtering through the skylights in the cortex picked out rich highlights in his hair.

She shook her head. "Nothing."

"You were staring."

"There was a - a bug on you. But it flew away," she added hastily as he swiped at his hair. 

It wasn’t like it had been with Ronnie. Then, it had been instantaneous, like a finger snap. Not this slow bloom of color, spreading outward from Cisco like watercolors soaking into paper, until every corner of the world had a different hue and shade. But Cisco wasn’t Ronnie, and she didn’t want him to be. 

She worried about it sometimes. Did this mean Ronnie hadn't been her soulmate? That she didn't love him anymore? But she knew he had, and she knew she did. She would never stop.

It was just that she was one of the lucky very few who got a second soulmate. 

And then the thought followed: what if Cisco's mystery soulmate was her?

She turned it over in her head, as carefully as an antique china plate. The facts fit. She had been with Ronnie when she and Cisco had met. She even remembered them telling him about their first meeting, over dinner or something. She struggled to remember his reaction, what he'd said or looked like, but couldn't. 

And when Ronnie had died and the color had drained from the world, she'd told him that too. 

She pressed her fingers to her eyes, watching the newly colorful starbursts behind her lids. "Oh, Cisco," she murmured to his past self. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I never saw. I know you couldn't tell me, but I wish I'd realized you were hurting."

Watching her with Ronnie must have been torture for him. Watching her after Ronnie died - that must have been torture in a different way, her loss of color confirming every day that he wasn't her soulmate. 

But it was going to be different now. If they were soulmates, he deserved to know.

And if they weren't - 

Her stomach pitched uneasily at the thought.

-

Her heart thundered in her chest as she made her way down to his lab. She'd kept this secret for a month now, clasped to her chest. And he'd kept it for years. This was going to change everything,

For the better?

She hoped.

He was head and shoulders into the souped-up treadmill Barry used to test his speed, a tool box open next to him. "Hey," he called out as she came in. She never could surprise him. Was that a soulmate thing, a Vibe thing, or just a Cisco thing?

"Hi," she said brightly, almost shrilly. She swallowed  hard and perched herself on the edge of his table, wiping her sweaty palms on her favorite skirt. "What are you working on?"

"Oh, just tuning this old girl up. How about you? What brings you down here?"

"Do I have to have a reason to come down here?"

He peered at her over his shoulder. "No, but you sure look like you do."

She wiped her palms again. "I was just thinking."

"Uhoh," he said cheerfully, turning back to the treadmill.

"About your soulmate."

Although he didn't say anything, all the cheer sucked itself out of the room.

"About, um, when you met them, and how long it's been, and -"

"Caitlin," he said in a heavy voice. "You said you wouldn't talk about this anymore."

"I know, I did, but I'm just curious - "

"You promised," he said. "You made me a promise."

"I - I did - "

He straightened up again, crossing his arms, resting the greasy wrench against his shoulder. His brows loomed heavy and serious. "So why the hell are you breaking it now?"

Okay, this wasn't broaching the subject like she'd thought it would. "You should put that wrench down," she said. "You're getting grease all over that shirt."

"Subject changed appreciated, but why - "

“And I like that shirt," she said. "I like that color on you. “It’s very flattering.”

He dropped the wrench on his foot.

When the clanging and the yelping and the jumping up and down and the checking that his foot wasn't broken had all died down, he wiped his greasy fingers on a rag, getting the fingers greasier. "So," he said levelly, "you met someone. That's great. That- that's awesome. What's their name?"

Oh. She hadn't expected this.

"Cisco," she said. "It's you."

He looked up, pain filling his eyes, and probably not from his foot. "No, it's not."

"It is," she insisted. Oh, wow, she hadn't expected him to be this stubborn about it.

"No," he said. "No. You met someone and you didn't realize, that's all. I don't know why you think it's me, because we've known each other for years, and it's never been me before." His voice cracked.

She reached out to take his hands. "But it is. I've been seeing in color for a month now. Just a little at first. But now it's everywhere. And it started with you. Cisco, it's you."

He shook his head slowly. "How?"

She shrugged. “I’ve been researching. Did you know it's a whole field in social science? The study of soulmates. Amatology. It's so much more complicated then everybody thinks, Cisco. We always hear how you know in the first moment, and it's just that one person, forever, and - and that's not accurate! You can have more than one. And you know somebody for years before they become your soulmate. And that's what happened to me. With you," she added firmly.

He was pressing his lips together. "It was - " he said, then stopped. Swallowed. Took a breath. "It was the first moment with me. The first color I saw was the gold of your engagement ring."

"Oh," she breathed. 

He swallowed again. There were tears in his eyes. "I've loved you for years, Caitlin, so I need you to tell me right now. Swear to me you're sure, and you're not screwing with me, and you - " His voice sank to a whisper. "And you absolutely know I'm your soulmate."

"I'm sure," she said. "I'm not screwing with you. I absolutely know that you're my soulmate, Cisco Ramon. And you know why? Because I don’t want it to be anybody but you."

He kissed her, hard, pulling her close. She had half a thought for her meticulously selected outfit, then mentally consigned it to the rag bin and kissed her soulmate back.

When they had to come up for air, he rested his forehead against hers. "I never wanted it to be anybody but you, either," he breathed.

"Even when - Ronnie?"

He nodded. "Because he made you happy. I wanted that more than anything else."

She traced the lines of his face, the arch of his brows, the curve of his lips. Dear and familiar and beautiful. "You're going to make me happy too."

FINIS

[juchumice]

OK THIS SHOULD BE IT-- no wait no i promised some1 i would draw more quirk swap just kidding lol you just got OWNED

ANYWAY HERE IS SHOUTA’S DOODLE PAGE AS PROMISED!! it was mainly me struggling with doing his hair and facial shape... I CANT DO IT CONSISTENTLY AND I DONT KNOW WHY

if  you wanna know more abt shouta in the quirk swap au, go ahead and press keep reading!!

YOU THOUGHT HIZASHI WAS THE ONLY LIQUID GURU AROUND??? WELL YOURE MADDD WRONG! shouta actually drinks a lot of tea! while he does it pretty often, he doesn’t drink the specific beverage 24/7 as hizashi does with coffee, nor is he as picky with the brands. he just settles for chamomile, green, or licorice root (his favorite) tea to soothe the soreness of his throat caused by voice. as long as it tastes fine, he’s ok with it-- no need for fancy shmancy tea farms or anything. just a dusty bag of the stuff’s enough for him

because shouta doesn’t have erasure in this au, he actually doesn’t have to worry about dry eye or anything! sooo, that means a more energetic shouta! esp since he doesn’t have to train all day to attempt to get into the heroics course as a general student since he already started out as a heroics student.  with a greater energy supply, he uses this remaining amount to, that’s right, PRANK PEOPLE!! i always liked seeing shouta’s mischevious side in the show, so his pranks (or ‘logical ruses’/’rational deceptions’ as he calls them) comes out more often. you piss him off and you either get to choose between possible domestic life demolishment or getting your butt kicked to kingdom come regardless of his quirk or not! 

as for shouta’s relationship with voice... well, it’s more of a complicated one. shouta barely speaks, only doing so when spoken to or unable to tolerate another’s presence, because of his tendency to lose control of his quirk. for him, it’s just too hard to control and too dangerous, so he’s stopped practicing awhile ago. instead, he relies on his physical strength and athletics. the only time he really let loose was during the entrance exam, and while he had a decent amt of robots destroyed, some ear drums were blown out.

the differences btwn regular hizashi’s and quirk swapped shouta’s voice quirk is as follows:

shouta has a smaller range of volume, pitch, etc.

he’s only really able to control the volume, so he has yet to unlock other abilities that reg. hizashi has (ex. mimicking voices, changing pitch, etc.)

voice tears up shouta’s throat more than hizashi’s

after that, there’s just another couple minor differences! shouta’s regular speaking voice is louder than usual due to the kick back of his quirk and his eye bags are NONEXISTENT NOW!!!

ALL RIGHT THERE WE GO!!! that’s shouta for ya as well as my throw up of ideas regarding him!! hope you enjoyed!!

[di-kut]

Baar Bal Runi: Chapter Eight

Series Masterlist

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive!Reader

Words: 5K

Summary: (Body Swap AU) You can’t sleep and so you show the Mandalorian how to braid hair. 

Rating: T (with some vague mentions of death) 

A/N: Yet again I am here telling you that most of what happened in this chapter was accidental. This concept was meant to be a short aside but instead I am at 5k. S/o to the anon who literally guessed the deepest secrets of my brain and a huge thank you to everyone who has been going through the masterlist. I see you, you make me smile. 💕💕💕

You are exhausted. Dizzy and slightly nauseous from the wave of tiredness which had overcome you before laying down. And the sound of the water hitting the walls and floor of the ‘fresher makes you skittish. Makes your stomach churn. Knowing the Mandalorian is inside, in your body, keeps you from sleeping. You wish you had spoken to him first, suddenly. Asked him not to look, or – or –

Something.

You roll to face the wall, but the rushing of the water behind you is worse and so you roll to face the ‘fresher door. Only feel slightly better at watching it. Every turn makes your head spin, but it is hard to tell what is nerves and what is the exhaustion taking hold. You trust him, trust him not to explore what is not his, the same way he has trusted you. Know it is silly to be so nervous when he has had to trust you with so much more – with the foundations of his beliefs. And you are worried he will see you naked. Because you are embarrassed. Because a part of you wants him not to see at all, and another part of you wants him to approve. The feeling is stupid, but you cannot stop it. Cannot stop yourself from trying to imagine what he must be thinking, how much he must be feeling beneath his hands. Feels strange to imagine that his hands must be able to touch you and you cannot feel it. It makes the dizzy feeling worse, chasing around and around in your head. You have to close your eyes against it all.

It is an eternity later when you hear the water finally stop. You can’t hear anything else for several minutes, almost five, you know because you count the seconds, and lift a finger for each minute you reach. To distract yourself from the inescapable thoughts. And then the door opens in a wave of steam and the smell of soap. You are bright red, burning all along your neck and face. Watch the way his – your – long hair hangs damp down his back, makes a patch against the light cotton underclothes. His cheeks are flushed from the heat. The shape of your body more obvious in the night things than it had been in your thick protective gear.

He isn’t looking at you on purpose. He has your dirty things folded in his arms and sets them down carefully next to his pack at the foot of his bed. Has your boots placed neatly next to them. You realise the careful way he treated his armour was not only because of his respect for the craft of his people, and his creed, but simply because that was the care with which he treats all things. You feel bad, suddenly, for the way you had stuffed his dirty underthings back in with everything else in the pack. He has quiet footsteps as he walks back towards the head of the bed. Pads so softly across the floor that even straining you almost can’t hear the sounds of his foot fall. In his own body he moves quietly, fully geared and armoured, but without the hinderance of those things and in your much smaller form he is nearly soundless. He sits right at the edge of the mattress, looks at ease, except for where his knuckles are white and fisted into the sheet.

The flush on his face is probably not just from steam.

He says nothing, stares at a spot on the floor in front of your bed with a vacant expression. And you stare at him, try to glean something. Anything, from the way he looks, and sits. You fidget against the bed and roll onto your back. Stare at a crack in the ceiling.

“Are you – ” You start but Din is also speaking, “I didn’t – ”

You both break off. You turn to look at him and he finally meets your gaze. You both go a darker shade of pink, and you can’t stop the nervous chuckle. But it makes him crack the smallest of smiles, and it is worth the embarrassment suddenly. Because when you start to laugh in earnest he is laughing with you, quietly and haltingly, but laughing nonetheless. And it’s like the final brick of the wall which has separated you is removed, falls away, and you are lighter. Breathe easier. It doesn’t seem to matter what you were going to say. You feel better now he is here again, not hidden beneath the sounds of the shower, and you are no longer worried for what he might have seen or felt. Knows he respects your body as much as you do his.

“It – ah – it takes longer.” He says. “Your hair, does. I mean.”

You give another nervous laugh. “Yeah. It does.”

He nods slowly. You press your lips together and turn towards him again, roll onto your side so you can face him. He is studying his own face, frowning slightly, and following the contours of it with his eyes. Your damp hair against the pillow, along your brow and your eyes and down the sweep of your nose. Along where you can feel the itch of facial hair – irritating in its unfamiliarity over the bottom half of your face. His frown deepens.

“What are you thinking?” You ask. Ask it without thinking.

His eyes flit back up to yours.

“You’re frowning.” You explain. “You look…”

You aren’t sure how he looks. You feel very senseless for asking him at all, realise he is probably just unused to the sight of his face and to see it staring back at him. All the time you have had to grow familiar with your own he has spent looking at the helmet. You can’t figure out exactly how he does look, what the expression on his face means.

“It’s weird.” He says and you start. Had not expected him to answer you. “I don’t normally see – me.”

You stare at your own face. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t realise – there’s a scar on my nose. I didn’t think it was so big.”

You lift your hand to your face without thinking, reach to feel the scar which must be there. Realise only the briefest of moments before your fingers come into contact with your face what you are about to do and drop them back against the mattress.

“Sorry.”

He smiles wryly. “It’s fine.”

“Don’t you see it in the mirror?” You ask suddenly. “The scar, I mean.”

“I guess.” He frowns again, thoughtful this time. “I don’t – I don’t look in the mirror a lot. Not unless I have to.”

“Why?”

He stares at you, and you see on his face he knows why. He knows very well why he avoids the mirror, but he is not going to tell you. You can see that as well. So, when he tilts his head and gives the smallest of shrugs, so small that if you had not known him half a cycle you might not have seen it. But you do, and you know not to press him. You wonder if it has something to do with the Creed, or if it is simply him. Din.

“My voice sounds weird. It’s different to what I thought.” You say, to show him you will not make him talk about it if he does not want to. “I don’t like it.”

He is very still, frowning deeper again. “You have a nice voice.”

You choke on air. Sputter over nothing and the blush which had finally subsided flares back over your whole body, heats your chest as well as your neck and face and burns. You sit up abruptly and the room spins when you do, a wave of dizziness so intense you have to brace both palms against the covers. It passes quickly. But the blush burning against your skin does not. Grows worse with the frank way he meets your gaze, as if he was just stating universal facts, as if he is not complimenting you but instead has told you the colour of your hair or your eyes. And maybe it is how he thinks of the world, that someone’s voice is nice is just an unchanging fact. It still makes you fidget against the bed.

“Thank you,” you somehow manage to say.

He just nods.

The silence which settles around you is comfortable, despite your lingering blush. You move slowly, sling both your legs over the edge of the bedside so your bare feet touch against the cool floor. Watch as Din stretches out slightly and begins to pull absently at the ends of your hair, tug at it and brush it away from his face, only for more strands to slip forward from somewhere else and fall over his shoulders. He grunts quietly and pushes both hands through the hair, right at your scalp, runs his palms the width of your head and back, capturing the length of your hair in his hands and pushing it over his shoulders and out of his way. But the dampness of your hair makes it heavy, and it falls forward again all too quickly.

You chuckle at his struggle. He gives you a look of dry frustration. “It would be much more practical short,” he says.

“I’m not cutting it.”

“I’m not saying that,” he mutters.  

“If you braided it, it wouldn’t bother you.”

As soon as you say it you realise that of course he doesn’t braid it. That he has been tucking it into the collar of your shirt every day since the swap because he hadn’t known how else to deal with it. His own is cropped short enough that the ends only just curl around the tops of your ears, and he was raised by Mandalorians, their heads all covered, their hair concealed. He would have no reason or way to know how to braid hair, or to manage its length. The look he gives you confirms it.

You bite against your lip. “I – I could braid it for you. If that would make it easier.”

He shifts. You think he will refuse but you are surprised when he nods slowly. “Yeah.”

“I – okay.” You push yourself right forward to the edge of the bed. Have to think for a moment, and then realise you are being silly again. That you know how to braid hair, and that overthinking this will only lead to strife. You so shuffle your feet apart and spread your knees to make enough room for him. Gesture to the space between them. “Sit.”

He moves cautiously, slowly. Pushes himself up from the bed and pads lightly over the floor to stand in front of you. Hovers for a few moments, staring between the floor and your face. Before finally turning and sinking onto the floor just in front of the tips of your toes, and just too far to reach. You wait for him to shuffle back but he does not, he stays just far enough away that you have to lean down to gently lay a hand over his shoulder. Your body feels so much smaller under his large touch. You tug lightly.

“Move back. I can’t reach.”

He is stiff under your touch, but he does as you say. Pushes himself back until his shoulders are wedged between your knees and you squeeze his shoulder to tell him stop. He stills and goes completely rigid.

“I’m gonna’ touch your hair.”

A warning. He feels skittish, nervous beneath your touch. You gather the damp hair in your hands, have to tug in some places where it is caught between you, or on the bed or in his clothes. Try to be as gentle as you can and lift the ends up into your lap. Realise he must have been combing it because it is not as tangled as you had thought it would be, only tangled from vigorous cleaning and not from a month of neglect. Your heart kicks quietly in your chest at the thought, at the image of Din sitting alone in the captain’s quarters or in the cockpit, pulling the knots from your hair.

You start at the bottom. Run your bare hands through the ends of the hair, reach quickly to the end of your bed where the absorbent cloth you had used to towel yourself down with is drying over the top of your pack, and press it around the length of his hair to capture some of the moisture. And then resume detangling. Get caught up in admiring the length of the Mandalorian’s fingers as your work them, the flex of his forearms where you have rolled up the sleeves, before you realise what you are doing and thinking and remind yourself sharply of his Creed. That everything you have seen is not because he has allowed it, but because he has no other choice. It makes it easier to focus on the task at hand, makes your mouth taste sour. Your hands reach the base of his skull, and you pause to work your fingers into the skin there.

“Din?” You warm at his name on your tongue. And the knowledge of him which he had willing given you, something which he wanted for you to have, not something you had taken from him.

He’s quiet. And then lowly hums.

“Is this okay?”

You knead the tense muscles at the place where his head meets his neck, know how nice it feels from experience, and slowly draw your hands away, back to slowly working through the any knots you find.

“Yeah,” his voice is soft, breathy almost. “Yeah, feels good.”

You smile. “Good.”

By the time your hands have reached the top of his head, occasionally pausing in your mission to press your fingers into his scalp, to rub firm circles against the skin of his temples as well, Din is soft against your legs, leaning back against you in an almost slump. Hums softly when your hands pass over somewhere particularly tense.

“Din?”

You can hear sleepy amusement in his voice. “Yes?”

“Can… can no one ever see?” You ask quietly. Nervous. “Ever?”

You know he knows you mean the helmet. Don’t have to explain it to him. He sighs, a tired sigh, but it is not directed at you, you think. He leans his weight more to the right. “I can show the family I choose.”

“The family you choose?”

“If I had a child,” he says gently. Hesitates and then, “Or married.”

Married. You had never thought of such a thing. Never imagined the Mandalorian pledging his life to someone, although – you supposed he already had. Your head turns towards the cot where the child is sleeping, gently snoring under his blankets. Still asleep after his brief waking earlier.

“Has the kid – ?”

“Of course.”

“Oh.”

He hums and sinks further against your leg. Your hands work absently through his hair, knot free now and much closer to dry, but you pull your fingers through its length almost compulsively. Feel ashamed at the sudden well of jealously which you know is irrational – which is unfair. You had always assumed the child was the same as you, had never seen his father without his helmet, that when he reached his tiny three fingered hand beneath the edge of its helm he was reaching blindly at something he had never seen. But the child had seen the Mandalorian, had seen Din, the man beneath. You are alone in their trio, an odd one out, and not a part of his family. The realisation burns harsher than you ever thought it would because you had no right to his family. To his face. You had given every effort to prevent yourself from seeing it, and now –

If he married, his partner would see him.

You are too overwhelmed by everything you feel to be able to understand them. And you are tired and still feel unwell. The sting of unjustified rejection is quickly anger is quickly hurt again. Shifts over to something sadder and stronger and then back to rejection again. You think of them, father and son, locked away from you in the Crest. Of the way Din gently butts his helmet against the child’s head, of the way the baby had cried when you tried to mimic the action. Even in Din’s body he did not want that from you. You are sure it must be the exhaustion making you feel so vulnerable, so sad. But this does not offer you much reassurance.

“In the shower,” you say. Immediately Din sits straighter, his back stiffens again. Your voice drops to a whisper, remembering the shape of his body under your hands. “You have so many scars.”

He stays taut and then slowly sits back again. Allows your hands to continue soothing through his hair. “Bounty hunting is… not an easy job.”

“I know, but.” You don’t know how to tell him what you’re trying to say. To put into words the way you feel. You sigh. “I know. I mean. I didn’t look, I closed my eyes, and I swear it Din, I would never. But I – I felt. All of that. I had to wash your face, and I – ”

You don’t know what he looks like. You could not imagine him from the shape of him beneath your hands. You think he must have a prominent nose, and a sharp jaw. But the rest you could make no guess at. Don’t know how to tell him that this already feels like a betrayal, that this was already more than you should have. You are not his wife. His family. He has given you his name but the rest has been taken from him. Is not your fault, and yet you feel guilty.

“Technically,” he says. “You are only not allowed to see me.”

“What do you mean?”

He rolls his shoulders slightly back, a shrug. “Touching my face does not break my Creed.”

Was he allowing you to, was he giving you permission? Your head spins. “I – I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I have spent so long terrified I am going to mess up! And accidentally see you! I can’t just – just – ”

“You won’t mess up.” He is so sure. Sounds so much like himself, even with the words in your voice, coming from your mouth. “You have protected my Creed better than I could ever ask you to.”

Your heart swells in your chest. Prideful, happy. The approval you had briefly hoped for from him, when he was in the shower, is much better here. Not directed at your body at all but at your ability to protect the thing he holds nearest. Your hands come to rest around his shoulders, half tangled in the hair between you. He shifts like he will move towards you, but he does not. Sinks slightly further back against your legs.

“And besides,” he murmurs. “I am a Mandalorian. Not a monk. There are ways within my Creed for me to be human.”

You do not have to think long to decode what he has told you, and when you do you grip your hands tightly against him. More shocked than embarrassed. You had never thought about the Mandalorian marrying, or having a family, but you had certainly never thought about – about that. That he would seek out other people, the company of their flesh. The logistics of it all cloud your mind, try to piece together what you know of his Creed and the act of sex. But it only serves the raise images in your mind which had not been there before, images which are made clearer by merely being able to look down and see for yourself and imagine. But, his Creed. His armour. His helmet.

“But – ” You cut yourself off. Din does turn this time, leans forward and looks over his shoulder, his face as expressive as it always is, always has been you now know. Looks at you expectantly with a question. Do you actually want to know? He will tell you, if you ask him to. And you flush deeply. “I thought…”

“No one can see me beneath my helmet.”

His helmet. Just his helmet. “Oh.”

He turns to face the front again, conceals his face from you so you cannot know what he is thinking. Are left to silently grapple with this new piece of knowledge on your own. You take a deep breath and release the clench you have on his hair. Smooth it over again gently. It is simply too much to think about. Opens up a whole new part of how you see him. Can’t help but wonder if many times aboard the Crest, while you had watched the ship and the kid, if while he was out seeking work, he had pursued the company of others. The answer seems so blatantly obvious it makes your stomach flop. Of course he had.

You must be quiet for too long because he pulls away from you slightly. “Did I make you uncomfortable?” He asks, not angry or defensive. Sounds almost sorry.

You shudder a breath. “No. No, I just. I never thought about it before.”

He half turns and then stops. Turns back to the front. You feel him start to say something but stop before the words are out. You want to ask him what he means to say but you aren’t sure if you want to know. If you can fit learning anything else into this night. Your head buzzes with everything and spins.

So instead you begin to work your hands forward towards the front of his hair, gently detangling any knots made by your nervous hands. And then you begin to braid. You pick up a piece of the hair at the top of his head, two beside it, and fold them together. Add another piece and another. Quietly explain each step to him as you go. Slowly along the top of his head, over the crown, down along the back of your scalp. And then you plait the ends. Work your hands quickly through the lengths of his hair until you reach the bottom. You don’t bother tying it off, but pass it forward to show him. Wait until he slowly takes it from you, gingerly, like he might break it. Turns his head to the side to look at it, runs his fingers along it.

“Try undoing it,” you say. “Just a bit. Slowly.”

He hesitates, but releases the ends and holds them in an unturned palm. Watches as it braid starts to spring apart and then picks at the pieces slightly, undoing it a few inches. Your hands move over his shoulder.

“Watch. You always hold one piece, here. Right comes over, left comes over. And now they’re swapped. And you hold the middle. Right over, left over.” Your hands mimic the actions as you say them, all the way down to the bottom of the braid. And then you unravel it again and hold it up for him to try. “Try it.”

His hands are clumsy at first, fingers struggle to work around the hair and keep his motions even. He grunts. Undoes everything again and starts from where you pinch the braid to keep the whole thing from falling apart.

“It takes time to learn.”

He sighs. “You are fast.”

“I’ve been doing it my whole life. At the academy – ”

You bite your tongue in shock. You do not talk about your life on Coruscant in front of Din, had not before you told him of the rebel agent, of the weapons plans you stole for them. And had never before then. Feels insensitive to talk about your life in the machine which had destroyed his people. Selfish and spoiled. You pull the braid back over his shoulder and unravel the whole thing, like the strands fall loose around his shoulders and stroke it gently. Frown down at it, as though it was somehow anyone else’s fault that you had forgotten yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you say. Quiet.

“Why?”

“I…” You fidget. “I didn’t mean to – to talk about it.”

He’s silent. Stares straight ahead. “About the Empire?”

“Yeah.”

He’s silent again. But when he speaks you realise what he has been doing. Quietly choosing his words, thinking them through in his mind. Maybe translating them, you think. “You don’t have to hide it.” He says. “You don’t have to pretend it didn’t happen.”

“But the Empire – ”

“Do you think they should have won?” He asks bluntly. So straightforward. So typical of him. You cast your eyes up to the ceiling and back down.

“Of course not.”

“Then it doesn’t matter.”

“But – ”

“Kelir bic am te ryuot?” He says, almost harshly. “No. It won’t change it. Ni ganar kyrayc adate. Te aliit ni kar'taylir darasuum ganar kyrayc adate.” He shifts forward and seems to get frustrated with himself, with his words. He hunches over and sighs. “My family… they kill people too. It’s what we do. I am – I am not always proud.”

You do not reach for him, although you want to. You let him have his space, allow him enough room to breathe. Wait until he slumps slightly, the frustration leaving his shoulders before you slowly run a hand lightly over the loose hair at the back of his head. Gather the ends slowly together and idly work at it. Let him move back towards you in his own time. And he does, slowly, shuffles back into the space between your legs and you make room for him. Begin slowly to braid his hair again, not explaining it this time, simply moving your fingers through the familiar motions. It calms you. Seems to calm him as well.

“I don’t judge you for what you were born to.” He says eventually.

You nod although he cannot see it. “I understand.” You pause, brush your fingers just lightly over his neck and he shivers. “Thank you.”

He nods and you undo the braid. Start it over again and explain as you do. Feel Din relax further into your right leg as you do. Your explanations are absent minded, almost without thought because you are caught up in the feeling of finally knowing that Din does not hate you at all. Doesn’t judge you for your life on Coruscant, for having precious memories of a place which has brought so much of the Galaxy so much pain. You had known in the desert, when you had told him of the rebel agent, that he did not hate you. But you were still worried, worried that to him you might represent all that was responsible for the deaths of his people. But you do not. He sees you for what you are now, accepts you for the past you have, and does not ask you to edit or change it. Or conceal it in front of him. You think it must be part exhaustion, how deeply you feel the relief. How suddenly you feel slack with it, like all the tension which had been holding you together and keeping you awake was gone now. You have reached the end of the braid, moved so slowly that it is too loose.

“It’s probably silly to do this before bed,” you say. “I never like sleeping with my hair tied.”

He doesn’t answer. You almost say his name to call his attention, but he is slumped so deeply against your leg, and his breathing is so even. Has fallen asleep. You stare at him in shock, the sliver of his face you can see slack, eyelashes resting against his cheek. And then you chuckle, softly so as not to wake him. He must be as tired as you. You almost reach for his shoulder to wake him before you stop.

You stand slowly, try to jostle him as little as you can and extract your legs from around him. Lean his back against the frame of the bed and his head lolls backwards onto the mattress. It makes you chuckle when the action does not wake him. His arms slip, one to the ground and the other cradled across his lap. You crouch beside him, tuck the fallen arm up into his lap as well and begin to slowly move your arms around him. Beneath his back his easy but under his knees requires more manoeuvring. But you get there. Move slowly so you can account for your own body’s weight as you lift. Be careful with his head where it falls further to the side.

The lift is easier than you would have thought possible. You sway a bit, countering the pull forwards, but once you get off the ground it is not hard. Remember suddenly the ease with which you had lifted the heavy cargo crate in the hull of the Crest. Realise how strong the Mandalorian must be to be able to move another human so easily. You cradle him inwards against your chest so that he is not slack and falling out of your arms. Carry him across the room to his own bed and lay him in it gently. Stare down at your own sleeping face and try to see yourself inside your body, try to remember what you had looked like in the mirror, in holograms. But the person in front of you now is too much Din to be the woman you remember. Feels so strangely floating between realities that you have to look away. You tuck the covers in around him gently, try not to jostle him. Push back a strand of hair which has come loose and fall again into his face. He murmurs softly in his sleep, but he does not wake.

. 

Kelir bic am te ryuot?: Will that change the past?

Ni ganar kyrayc adate. Te aliit ni kar'taylir darasuum ganar kyrayc adate: I have killed people. The family I love most have killed people. 

. 

Tags: @btillys​​ @vercopaanir​​ @absurdthirst​​ @sistasarah-sallysaidso​​ @adikaofmandalore​​ @babyomen​​ @purpleeeslurpppp​​ @fleurdemiel145​​ @hdlynn​​ @starwarsiscooliguess​​ @thedarkwitchling​​ @no-droids-allowed​​ @dartheldur​​ @toilet-keeper @sinnamon-bunn​ @br0ther-s​ @that-one-weird-one​ @oloreaa​ @nellyneko​ @damndamer0n​ @space-floozy @hopplessdreamer​ 

[rinusagitora]

You’re in all my dreams.

Fandom: Bleach

Characters: Karin Kurosaki, Toushirou Hitsugaya, Momo Hinamori, OC- Mae Izumi

Pairings: HitsuKarin

Words: 2.2k

Summary: Shinigami!Karin AU. For HitsuKarin Week 2021. WARNINGS- mentions of suicide, dysfunctional families; Karin graduates Shin'ou and shares her dreams with Toushirou.

AO3

For the last six years, Karin dreamed of the day she’d graduating from cadet to officer and don the shihakusho like everyone she ever admired.

It was an anxious future filled with wonder and promise she never knew back in the World of the Living. Going from cadet to captain of a small force was going to be quite the culture shock, perhaps even more than the cold water of the river where she drowned. But she made it, and it made her much more confident in her ability. Officers were chosen from a pool of graduates and turnover was infrequent since few officers passed away in peacetime. It made competition fierce and even rarer that a graduate obtained a seated position out of the gate.

She was equal parts nervous and excited. For the time being, all Karin wanted to do was enjoy the graduation bonfire.

Mae toppled onto the log, sloshing rice wine onto Karin’s lap. She laughed. “I’m sorry! I’m sooo hammered.”

“No worries. I think I’ve puked on you more times than you’ve spilled on me.”

“Indeed, we swapped roles tonight.” Mae tapped Karin’s nose. “Tonight, of all nights, you choose to be reserved. Why?”

Karin hummed and swirled beer. “I’m nervous, I think.”

“It’s a big change.” Mae looked over the crowd. “Where are Hinamori-fukutaichou and Hitsugaya-taichou? I expected them, of all people, to be here.”

Karin’s reikaku grazed the crowd. Momo was there, just chaperoning. Keeping firelight between bodies like a puritan. Perhaps rightfully so. They were the new faces of the Seireitei. It was better not to romp in the woods right over poison ivy before recruitment day. Pussy itch was a different kind of awful. The kind of awful where Karin, who was once impaled, ended up curling up on the floor crying while Izuru healed her crotch and Shuuhei and Renji laughed in the next room.

The crowd parted for Momo like river water around stones. She stopped before Karin, and Karin smiled at her mentor. “Hi, Momo-senpai.”

Mae nodded. "Hinamori-sama."

"Izumi-chan, I hope you're enjoying the festivities."

"Oddly enough. It's strange letting loose… but I see where Karin-chan's alcoholism comes from. Dancing while intoxicated is liberating."

"Indeed." Nonetheless, Momo cocked her head and curiously looked over Karin. Karin knew the jig was up from there. She and Ryuuji were normally in the center of the action, and Karin hadn't so much as howled or toasted once that evening.

“Leave us, Izumi-chan.”

Mae managed to right herself and bowed to excuse herself. Gracefully, Momo took a seat beside Karin as she cursed internally. She didn't want to talk about it, but Momo always dragged out her bad feelings and laid them in the open.

“It’s odd you’re not out enjoying the festivities. This is your… thing.”

“It’s just really hitting me that I’m going to be a shinigami,” Karin told Momo. “I’ve been working toward this goal for six years. What do I do from here?”

Momo laughed. “Six years is a blink of an eye for the majority of us.” She held Karin’s shoulders. “There will be plenty to do, Karin-chan.”

“I can’t believe we’re all in a squad just after graduation, though.”

“Who? Izumi and Kawashima?” Karin hummed affirmatively in response to Momo, who then grinned. “Believe it or not, Iba-taichou wanted Watanabe. I think Watanabe is in for a reality check.”

“You are far too happy over that.” Karin couldn’t help but share Momo’s thrill, however. Chousuke Watanabe was a thorn in her side for six years, being her friend Ryuuji’s tormentor. Tetsuzaemon would straighten him out. The very picture of manhood and chivalry according to Momo. It was far too rewarding imagining Chousuke getting reamed by a six-foot wall of meat and battle scars.

"Bias is something I never shied away from. It's been a driving force in my life, for better or worse." Momo kissed Karin's forehead. "For best, in your case. You've been family since the moment I laid eyes on you, Karin-chan. My own in many ways. Every obstacle you've faced, you've overcome, and are better for it. I am so proud of how far you've come, and I'm so glad to have played a part in it."

Karin smiled bashfully. At least she had Momo.

Momo lovingly jostled Karin. There it was. Momo buttered up Karin just enough and was about to get her to bust open a can of worms. "What's on your mind?"

"I just… I thought Toushirou would be here. I haven't seen him all day today."

"I'm not supposed to tell you, but," Momo whispered, grinning, "he's preparing something special. Be patient."

Her heart pattered. "Oh." Of course he was. She was a little ashamed that hadn't occurred to her earlier as if they hadn't developed years of trust and affection, or at least a solid friendship. Nonetheless, Momo stroked Karin's hair, reminding her she was only human, that something so little wouldn't ruin everything.

Speaking of… Karin picked up on a familiar, icy reiatsu approaching. It was Toushirou, still in uniform. She smiled and Momo tapped her on her nose.

"See?"

"Not yet, but he's coming." Momo only rolled her eyes in response to Karin's lame joke.

"I'll leave you now. Enjoy your night, Karin-chan."

"Thanks, Senpai. I love you."

"And I love you."

Toushirou was still in uniform with his hands tucked into his sleeves. As he passed, Karin's fellow cadets parted and bowed to him. He ignored the attention, however, instead sporting a smile as he found Karin on her log.

He'd undergone hormone therapy in recent years to trigger a growth spurt. And he'd grown up to be a handsome young man, with looks rivaling stars in the World of the Living with access to renowned surgeons.

"I hope you've been enjoying yourself," he said. He took a seat next to her. He smelled like flowers. "I never attended these things, truthfully."

"Did you want to try dancing?" Karin asked.

"Well… I don't know," he said. Toushirou pulled a modest bouquet of daffodils from his sleeve, tied off with a turquoise ribbon. "It's not a big gift, I know, but I hope it reminds you that you're always welcome in juubantai."

Gingerly, Karin took his bouquet and smelled them. They smelled like spring. "I love them," she said. "Thank you."

She pressed a kiss against Toushirou's cheek, and he happily hummed. "I'm glad you like them. It's hard buying gifts for you."

"As if."

"It's true," he replied. "All Matsumoto wants is a day off, Hinamori loves spices and tobacco, and the boys are happy with some sake. You, on the other hand, easily get your hands on sake and tobacco, and hate downtime." Toushirou crossed his legs. "I should've consulted my sister."

Karin frowned. "But I like them…"

"The flowers? But they're such a lazy gift," he scoffed.

"I like everything you give me." She smiled. "Really, thank you. I love them."

He laughed bashfully. "Well, I'm glad."

Together they sat amid drums and singing and firelight, swaying with it, until Toushirou asked, "I don't want to take you from your friends, but I’m not enjoying myself here. Do you mind going elsewhere?"

"We can leave," Karin said. "Where do you want to go?"

"Someplace quiet where we can see the stars."

Her cheeks were warm at the idea. How romantic.

Karin bashfully followed behind Toushirou, holding his hand as he guided her away from the bonfire. When it was dark, he illuminated the way with kidou, assured in every step. A gorgeous man. He'd grown into his looks. His cheekbones were high, his shoulders broad. She could swoon until early morning over his handsome shape.

Up a hill, through a grove, and up a steep path, until they reached the peak of a sheer cliff. The stars above looked like a river of life. They didn't twinkle but were a steady pathway carved in the sky. Karin fell onto the grass and marveled. "Wow. When did you find this, Toushirou?"

"Not long ago. I wouldn't keep this from you  without a good reason." He smiled at her. Sitting, he said, "Do you like it?"

"Yes!" Karin nigh tackled Toushirou and kissed his cheek. "It's beautiful."

"I should've brought wine."

"This is perfect." Karin laid her head on Toushirou's shoulder. Together they stared into the stars. She searched for constellations but found none she recognized. "Do you think the World of the Living and the Soul Society have different stars?" she asked.

"I'm not sure. No one spends time looking up in the Soul Society. Those who do, don't seem to have the technology contributing to significant findings," Toushirou replied. "I'm not much of an astronomer either."

"You're a man of the law."

He laughed bashfully. "Aye."

Karin drew pictures in the stars herself. Birds, men, kitchenware, like she remembered from her human life not so long ago. Six years was nothing compared to how long her peers lived, was it? Not Momo, who was approaching a century and a half. Not even Toushirou, well into his seventies by that point. But Karin couldn’t remember the names of the stars or where to find them in the sky. How much longer did she have until she overwrote their patterns with other things? How much longer until her sad mortal history was forgotten in a sea of everything else?

There weren’t immediate answers to her questions, but Karin was fine with that. She said, "I remember hoping a rope would drop from the sky and drag me by the neck. Put me out of my misery."

"Understandable," Toushirou replied.

"I'm so much happier here. It's not always easy, but..."

"Slow and steady?"

"Yeah. Slow and steady wins the race. And I'm glad to be with you for it."

"So," Toushirou said, "no more sky-ropes to hang you until you're dead?"

She giggled. "Not anymore. I don't fancy myself a pirate, anyway."

He hummed. "I had a dream some time ago. Similar to yours... although I remember it being less grizzly," Toushirou confessed. She pulled her gaze from the starlight and saw him cloaked in darkness. Still, his eyes shined with wonder. Adoration. "A dream that assured me you're the love of my life."

"Go on," she said.

"I was being puppeteered by the sky. Dragged around day in and day out. And I saw the strings on you, into the sky as far as my eyes could see. And yet despite time, and fate, and all the horridness that plagued life for some time, we fought to be together." He clasped her hand. "Our strings became tangled and pink like cherry blossoms in spring. Like sunset. And... and I never want those strings freed." His blue-green eyes met hers. They made her melt like her body was hot wax in a leather bag. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Karin."

It felt like forever before she caught her breath. She asked, "Are you proposing?"

"If that's all it takes to spend the rest of my life by your side, and you at my side, I'll fetch a ring now. Propose properly in front of as many people as you like.”

Karin giggled. Picturing Toushirou hopping onto a bar counter, sake raised high, and screaming how deeply he was in love with Karin to their loved ones and peers, was quite a sight to behold! Yet, as anxious as he was to do so, she replied with, "Not at all. But let's make plans down the road. When I'm settled in."

"Of course." Toushirou sighed happily. They kissed. "I'm so in love with you, Karin."

"And I love you."

"I could stay here forever."

Karin hummed. “We have forever to do that…”

He turned to meet her gaze. “But?”

“I want to do more.” She sat up. “We work because we’re more than just lovers. We’re friends, confidants, partners. Warriors and artists and scholars.”

“Of course,” he agreed, propping himself on his palm.

“I want to be married, and I want forever with you, as much as I want-”

Toushirou said, completing Karin’s statement, “More.” He held her hand then. “It’s one of the reasons I love you. My recruitment was necessary. Yours is nothing but-”

“Desire.” She gazed into the stars, searching for divination in the blanket covering a slowly rotating plane.

“Then what more do you want?”

“To give justice and safety to those who have been and yet to be hurt. No one should suffer as I, and we have. I want to tear down the caste system here. Hold nobility responsible for their actions and give power back to the people, and eradicate the symbols of fascism and cruelty. I want to reconnect families. To make the Rukongai safe, so no one’s starving or resorting to crime to survive. And…” Karin turned to Toushirou, her breath stilling as she saw his eyes swimming with adoration. “And I want to mold the next generation to dream as I now dream, and to better the world. And I want to do all of it with you beside me, Toushirou. As equals.”

Toushirou cupped her cheek. He kissed her, and she held his sleeve. “Let’s do it. Together,” he said. Their foreheads touched. “Together always.”

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Don’t Forget Me

Art in banner done by me.

College Life / Mermaid / Kimi no Na wa (Your Name) inspired AU

It’s all nothing but a dream. A series of dreams that are all too real. That’s all it is. Your soul - or whatever it was - couldn’t possibly be swapping places with a Merman. One, mermaids aren’t real. Two, that’s not even possible! Is it? 

Mermaid!Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Human Reader

Want to start from be beginning? Check the Don’t Forget Me tag. 

Genre: Romance / Angst Story 

Rating: Explicit | Adult Themes, Interspecies Sex (merman / human), Masturbation, Alcohol, Animal death / hunting (whales, fish, sharks, etc), Cursing, Descriptions of Injuries and Blood 

A/N: This is my part for the @bnhabookclub weekly collab event Just Add Water for MerMay! I know there isn’t much going on in this, but it’s just the first chapter to a new multichapter fic. Per the rules of the collab, I used the prompt “That’s just an urban legend”. I’m excited, because I’ve wanted to do a Mer!Bakugou x reader for a LONG time and could never think of anything. But when this theme was announced, I was watching Kimi no Na wa and immediately had this idea. So, full disclosure, the theme of switching bodies in their sleep / forgetting each other is inspired by that movie, but that is all that I take away from it. 

Prologue: Stone

Chapter Rating: Teen | Cursing

Words:  1,855

You were doing it again. 

How many times had you caught yourself staring at the delicate necklace in your hands? More than you could probably count on all your fingers and toes, and you were sure that number had nearly doubled just in the last week. You really weren’t sure why you were drawn to it so intensely, nor why it gave you such a deep sense of loss and loneliness. 

Where had you gotten it from? 

You couldn’t remember. In truth, you couldn’t remember getting it at all. As far as you could recollect, it had been around your neck when you woke up one morning, about two months ago. Since then, you refused to go a day without it, even if it didn’t necessarily match your outfit or any particular occasion. You felt so lost without it around your neck, like a part of you was away, off in some distant land or deep within the sea. 

Why did you think that? 

Of all things, why would you assume that this missing part of you was in the ocean? Was it because of the necklace? Probably. The silver clam shaped pendant that rested in your palm was most likely the culprit to make you think of the sea. But that particular piece of the jewelry wasn’t what kept you so entranced. Set in the middle was a small, perfectly round stone, and its brilliance is what you couldn’t help but stare into. To anyone else, it would just appear to be a small marble, with brilliant deep indigo, swirling turquoise and hints of radiant purples. There were sparkles of twinkling white, like light reflecting off a water's surface, and if you gazed into it long enough, you could have sworn that the colors were mixing and twisting, as if there truly was water inside the stone. 

It was so beautiful. Had someone given it to you? Whoever did must have cared about you so deeply to give you something so special. You had asked all your friends and family if they knew anything about how you got it, but no one knew anything. You received some weird looks and uncomfortable responses when you tried to ask them, but that didn’t bother you much, not when you had been dealing with people finding you strange for almost half a year now, anyway. 

Why did they find you weird again? You couldn’t remember.

All you knew was that it had to do with this necklace. You had tried to find out what it was made of to try and get any hints on where it may have come from, but each jewelry store or stone expert you took it to, they all had the same response. They just didn’t know. Many offered to buy it from you at varying prices, their interest peaked and their hopes of being the first person to discover a new stone pushing them forward. But you resisted, as just even letting it out of your hands so they could look at it enough to make you nearly burst into tears. You couldn’t let it go and you wouldn’t, either. Not ever. Not for anything. 

Because it was precious. It was the only thing that you had that could help to calm this nearly unending sense of longing. 

But what was it you were longing for? 

Or who? 

Why did that always pop up in your mind? There were so many pieces of scattered thoughts that you just couldn’t put together. A person. The sea. Feeling like a piece of you was missing. You wanted these feelings to end, but you knew that they wouldn’t, not until you found what you were searching for. 

With a frustrated sigh, you put the necklace back on around your neck, clasping it in place with skilled fingers. Standing from your bed, you shuffled your way towards your desk, lightly running your fingers down along the slender metal chain. Your mind was still in a hazy grip of sleep, barely registering that the electronic clock mostly hidden by books and other stationary read 5:49 AM, though that didn’t really matter. Your mind was racing with the overbearing thoughts, and as you sat down in your squeaky office chair, you were already near breaking out into tears.

The necklace wasn’t the only clue you had. Scattered among the desk were notebooks and papers, though you had refused to touch them for the last few weeks. At first, you had meticulously looked over every page and every written note, trying to do everything you could to learn about who this person was that you were missing. But now they sat on your desk, abandoned in defeat. There were many things in the notes that didn’t make sense to you now, though according to what you had written, you had understood it all at one point. 

What you had written. 

That was what was the most odd. There were two very distinct handwritings within the notebooks and scribbled on the scrap pieces of paper or sticky notes. Yours was so proper and easy to read, clean and steady. The other was rough with some of the characters almost completely illegible, requiring you to assume what the person writing must have been trying to say. Large and scratchy, it almost resembled the handwriting of a child or what you assume would be someone new to writing on paper. The phrases. The choice of words. All of it was completely different from yours. 

It had been another person. Someone sat in your chair, in your room, and wrote these messages to you. At first, you thought that it just had to be a prank. One of your friends was fucking with you. That was the only realistic solution. But none of them talked this way, and if you were honest, they weren’t exactly clever enough to pull off such a big ordeal over months and months. 

The way they talked… It was so strange. You just couldn’t wrap your head around it, and if you were honest, you thought that they must have been a little crazy. Yet, you weren’t all that rattled in most of your responses, like you knew what they had been saying to be the truth. 

The conversations were so… natural. In fact, most of it was like a diary, with the scratchy handwriting cataloging what had happened that day, how they felt about it, and what they had done. 

This school shit that you humans do is so stupid and pointless. Who the fuck needs to know about… what is it called? Calculus? You’re never going to use that shit, I’m not bothering with keeping up with it, fuck that. You always catch up on your own anyway. That bitch Midoriya or whatever gave you some fucking flowers today. I thought about stomping on them and telling him to fuck off, but I just took them and left. You need to tell that prick you’re not into him or this shit will never stop. Also, the way you humans handle courtship is fucked. I didn’t do shit today otherwise. Just stayed in the room. I did find your sketchbook though. You’re getting better, but you still can’t remember us for shit. 

Pulling your eyes up from the paper, they immediately landed on the mentioned sketchbook, which was tucked up beneath some schoolbooks. Carefully, you pulled it out, setting it down on the pile of papers to thumb through it. 

It had been so long since you had even opened this thing. The feeling of the coarse paper beneath your fingertips brought a small smile to your face, as did seeing all your old sketches and doodles. Though, the smile faded as you reached near the middle of the sketchbook, your eyes tearing up immediately at the contents of the page. The page was completely covered in drawings of what looked to be mermaids, or mermen, to be more accurate. They were mostly faceless and unidentifiable, the sketches geared more towards poses and anatomy. The only thing mostly consistent was the tail. It seemed to be the same over all the drawings, with matching fins and scribbled patterns. 

“Mermaids… I’ve never cared to draw them before, why did I…?” 

After another turn of the page, you were met with similar things, only this time they had heads and hair, jewelry, pieces of clothing, and even weapons. Only one of the sketches resembled the previous drawings, and his particular features called to you. The feeling of recognition and longing grew fiercer with another turn of the page, which was all nothing but sketches of that particular merman’s head with varying expressions and positions. He was particularly attractive, with slanted piercing eyes and a mass of fluffy spiked hair on his head. He had fin-like ears that were mostly drooped, but flared out on the drawings with a more intense expression, where his mouth was open in a yell or intense fanged snarl. 

A small gasp left your lips as a drop of liquid suddenly landed onto the paper, pulling you out of your daze. Crying? Why were you crying? Why did your heart feel like it was about to be ripped from your chest? It wasn’t possible for this to be the man that you had been longing for. You had drawn him as a mermaid! They weren’t real, and there was no way that was possible. He couldn’t even get into your room, let alone sit in your chair and write you letters. 

“I’m so ridiculous…” You whispered quietly to yourself, wiping the tears from your flushed cheeks. Had you been blushing? You didn’t even notice. “Mermaids… That’s just an urban legend. A myth. I must have just been in a phase… Maybe I saw a movie or an anime with them, and I got super invested? But then… they’re so…” 

Page after page, more sketches followed, some making you giggle while others made your chest ache so badly you thought you would pass out. But then, there was something scribbled onto a page that made your entire body grow cold, stomach twisting into such a tight knot you were sure that you’d vomit. 

Save me. 

“Save… Save you?” You choked out into the silent room with a trembling voice, more tears cascading down your cheeks as you reached up to grip the pendant around your neck tightly. It was in the familiar scratchy handwriting, though it was more frantic and messy than you had ever seen. Hiccupping, you brought the pendant up to your lips, pressing the stone against them as you struggled to calm yourself. 

Save you from what? What the hell happened? Did I save you? Why the hell can’t I remember!

It was then that you felt an odd pulsing against your lips, and as you pulled away in shock, your teary gaze was locked onto the pendant in your hands, which was pulsing slowly with a pale green glow. And with it came a thought, like a soft voice whispering in your ear that you couldn’t ignore. 

He’s calling to me… 

[radiorenjun]

Lavender Antics

→ Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

→ Summary: Shooting in a drama with him was your absolute nightmare. Working with your enemy and pretending that you were love interests has been the most frustrating experience of your life. Though, after saying your farewells, the scent of lavender never leaves.

→ Genre:enemies to lovers au, idol au, romance, angst, slowburn, comedy.

→ Chapter: 6, 7, 8

→ A/N: YEP I CREATED A NEW DIVIDER. IM SO SORRY I HAVEN’T UPDATED IN FOREVER OMG

"EXCUSE ME?"

"Wait, back up. Back up, you did what?!" Kiyeon exclaimed, a look of complete disgust spread across her expression. "Let me get this straight," Jaehwa snickered, trying not to bawl out laughing in front of you to prevent you from sending an assassin to beat her up afterwards.

You hid your face against the soft fabric of your pillows, face red in embarrassment and shame as the distant sinister laughter of your group leader deafen your ears from the speakers of your phone, along with the soft chatters among your group members.

"Y/N L/N, main dancer and vocalist of the Mythical Refrain, our little Y/n who constantly looks away and shakes her head with disgust at our bullshit, was suppose to give Han Jisung an innocent peck on the lips-" Jaehwa snorted midway before your leader, Cheonsa, came into the screen over her shoulder.

"But ended out in a full blown heated make out session on camera, swapping spit in front of all the cast?! That's beyond priceless, I can't even-" Cheonsa bawled out laughing, wiping the tears from the corner of her eyes as Haneul just shook her head in disappointment in the background.

"Damn, y/n, was he good though? I knew maknae lines are never innocent at heart, I just knew it!" Cheonsa practically choked on her spit midway through laughing, and you internally hope that she chokes and die on the spot so you wouldn't have to endure the teasing even longer.

"Shut up, if anything you're the pervert here!" you shot back, heat striking your cheeks at her words. "It happened at the heat of the moment, I didn't mean for things to go that far!" you hissed angrily, venom lacing your tone. "You still made out with him, did you not?" Jaehwa smirked mischievously.

"Disappointed but not surprised," your maknae tsked softly with a shake of her head. "Shut up! This is coming from the same idiots who dressed up as if it was Halloween when taking their member to the airplane!" you grumbled with an angry frown, pointing an accusatory finger at your phone screen, making sure your members were able to see you.

"That was a fun experience, okay? Besides what happened afterwards?" Jaehwa shrugged, shoving Cheonsa's laughing figure away from the camera, moving the device so that Jaehwa and Kiyeon's face were clear on your screen. You gulped, internally screaming at yourself not to tell them. To say that you moved on with it without an ounce of shame in your veins. To say that you ran away to Hogwarts, never to be seen again.

You gulped, looking at your nails to avoid your friends' curious expressions basically glaring into your soul. "We were told to redo the whole scene tomorrow," you muttered under your breath, hoping that your members couldn't pick up your words from the low pitch of your voice through the mic.

But their unnecessarily loud laughter that peaked through your phone speakers practically make you deaf. You winced at the loud piercing noise, your hand coming up to lower the volume slightly as your members howled back laughing.

You heard their palms banging against the wooden floor of your dorm. "This day just keeps getting better and better!" howled Cheonsa, clapping aggressively in the background as she practically wheezed her lungs out of laughter.

If there was a delete yourself button, now would be a good time to press it.

"Why? Why do you-" Jaehwa wheezed, unable to blurt out the words in her throat since she was laughing like a deformed chicken. You grumbled, rolling your eyes as the recent memory of your manager walking into your trailer with a sympathetic smile and fearful eyes, ready to spill the news to you and be eaten alive by your incredulous expression.

"Our manager said that it was 'too heated' for a soft first kiss between our characters, plus everyone got off character when we started kissing because they didn't think we'd actually do it without arguing first," you grumbled, faceplanting on the pillow with a loud annoyed groan.

"How am I going to face Jisung tomorrow, for fucks sake!" you whined as your members snickered. "Rest in peace, sister." Kiyeon said sympathetically, finding your current situation disgusting with all the kissing deal. "Well there goes my plans of getting our seniors' autograph," your leader sighed.

You gave her an incredulous look through the screen, trying not to pull a horror movie stunt and choking her through the phone screen with your bare hands. "You can kiss those autographs goodbye, Cheonsa. I'm saying this with full admiration when I say, I’m never letting your creepy ass near them,," you shot back defensively.

"As much as I'm offended on how you called your leader a creep, I completely understand if you don't want me getting near your man." Cheonsa's face came up on the screen, giving you an annoying wink that had your blood boiling. "Shut up or I will book a flight back to Korea at this second and roast your laptop on a bonfire!" you threatened weakly.

Your cheeks grew red at her words, your man. You let out a soft scoff, rolling your eyes at the thought. Suddenly, a beautiful image of Han Jisung himself appeared in your line of vision. A slow motion version of his lips slowly spreading into a heart shaped smile, a small soft chuckle being elicited from his throat.

The small memory of the way his fluffy hair would swoosh to different directions from his movements in the morning during breakfast as he sneakily grabs the three slices of cheesecakes on the dessert trays subtly came into your mind.

5:41 AM

You were woken up on the crack of dawn for a small shoot shared between you and Jisung's character. You were on break when you decided to wander around the studio, waving and passing by busy staff members, make up artists and multiple directors.

You suddenly found yourself walking towards the food area, where you were free to munch and snack on whatever they served as long as you were on break and didn't sneak it on set in filming.

You let out a soft wide yawn, clutching your black coat against your body to gain more warmth in the cold breeze. You shuddered at the cold wind that smacked against your body as you walked over to the food area, passing by exhausted staff members on the way.

"I'm seriously not ready for a long distance relationship with my bed," you mumbled to yourself as you opened the door to the food area, poking your head into the room. To your surprise it was empty, though it appears a few staff members had snuck a treat or two but nonetheless you had the place to yourself.

Or so you thought.

As you grabbed yourself a plate and some utensils, you heard soft sounds of footsteps. You jolted in alarm, crouching down to your knees to hide in case your manager comes in to call you in for another scene to shoot. You're definitely not leaving without finding a perfectly good cookie if you were going to step outside in the cold weather.

You crawled across the floor, peaking through the table cloths to see who it was but the trays on the other tables blocked the face of whoever had entered. You assumed it was one of the directors considering they were wearing the same thick black coat they gave specifically for the directors and cast members.

You heard footsteps echoing the room, signifying that the person was walking towards the cake section of the room. You stood up slowly, careful as to not make a noise. You furrowed your brows when you saw the person scurrying around the table with the hood over their head.

Your curiosity got the better of you. You tiptoed slowly towards them, trying not to gain their attention but wanting to find out who it was. Step by step, you slowly came closer to said person eventually standing beside them and poking your head to see what they're doing.

You raised your head up and froze when you realised you were now face to face with none other than Han Jisung, himself, who's eyes widened at the sight of you as you both just froze in place, staring at each other in a good awkward silence.

How ironically cliché.

Jisung took a step back in shock, letting out a startled noise, almost dropping his plate in the process. "Talk about a late delay, Han." you snickered, rolling your eyes at the boy. Jisung scoffed, relaxing his tense muscles as he realised it was just you and not some creepy sasaeng fan.

"Oh, it's you." he stated with a not so amused tone, sighing in relief as he placed his plate on the table cloth beside the trays. "You sound pleased to see me," you teased, giving him a cheeky grin. "What gave you that idea?" he sent you a fake smile, showing his pearly white teeth.

"What are you doing here?" Jisung asked with a raised brow, his fake smile subsiding as he grabbed a fork beside you. "That's my line," you muttered, watching him grab some cookies from the jars. Jisung gave you an incredulous look, shoving a cookie in his mouth.

You giggled at his expression, shrugging simply at him. "Got bored, decided to snack." you smiled sheepishly, grabbing a cookie from his plate and shoving it into our own mouth causing Jisung to retort, trying to pull the cookie out of your mouth. "That's mine you thief!" he whined, causing you to stick your tongue out after you gulp the contents down.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, tilting your head at him as you grabbed a glass and filled it with some milk from the drink section. "I heard from a few staff that there were only three cheesecakes leftover. You know I won't survive a day without a cheesecake as an energy boost," Jisung shrugged, showing you the cheesecakes in his plate.

"Plus, we still have hours and hours of shooting after this. There's no way I could live on without having some creamy goodness in my mouth," Jisung hummed as he started to eat his cheesecakes, savoring it bit by bit. "You make it sound so wrong," you scrunched your face in disgust, your mind going places.

Jisung's eyes widened as they bore into yours. "Hey! That's on you. It's not my fault you have a dirty mind," he tutted, flicking your forehead in the process which elicited a small yelp from you. You pouted, rubbing the sore spot on your forehead as Jisung continued to stare disappointingly at you with chubby cheeks.

For a split second, you basked in his appearance. Taking a moment to look at how fluffy his hair is considering you both shot a scene where your character and his character went on a little morning stroll after waking up. You knew your make up artist didn't make you appear any less messy than Jisung, but you still couldn't comprehend why he looks so wholesome right now.

Fluffy brown hair with strands going in different directions, a simple makeup that gave him the perfect 'bedhead' look, puffy cheeks stuffed with the sugary dessert as he munched on the cookies. The pajamas they had you both wear for the shoot, making you feel as if you were in said kdrama yourself.

"Earth to Y/N!"

You snapped out of your trance at Jisung's concerned tone, blinking rapidly as you tried to comprehend what's going on around you. Jisung's fingers were snapping excessively in front of your face, brows furrowed in concerned as you divert your attention away from his face to his fingers.

"Sorry I spaced out," you grinned sheepishly, avoiding his eyes when you realized you were watching him eat his cheesecake the whole time like a weird pervert. "Dang girl, are you really that tired? You looked as if you were bout to eat me alive" Jisung said with a light laugh, grabbing his fork to shove a piece of his cheesecake into your mouth.

You let out a muffled noise of surprise when you felt the sugary dessert began to overwhelm your taste buds. "Here's a little energy boost," he grinned cheekily, pulling the fork out of your mouth before taking a bite of cheesecake for himself. You chewed as you had come into two realizations.

One. Jisung was using a fork for his cheesecake, this boy never fails to surprise you with how odd he is considering he sang bout Americanos five times when you visited the local cafe near your hotel, thus embarrassing you in public.

Two. He used the same fork that he had used to feed himself. Which lead you to thinking that you just had an indirect kiss with him. Your face becoming even more flustered by the second as you let the thought sink deeper and deeper into your mind.

"Here, have some more. You looked as if you've seen an alien, geez." Jisung poked his fork through the cheesecake and moved his hand closer to your mouth. You shook your head, cupping your mouth dramatically when you saw him coming closer. Taking a step back, you let out an awkward laugh. "No thanks, I'm good."

Jisung raised a brow at you, "really? You always nag how I always steal the last piece, you should be grateful I'm willing to share right now." he chuckled, taking a step forward to aim the fork at your mouth once again. "Say 'ah'!" he cooed, but you simply shook your head and gently pushed his hand away from you.

"I'm good, Jisung. It's not good to have some sugar this early, you know?" you rambled, silently cursing yourself for not accepting the cheesecake for the sake of your own pride and ego. Jisung wasn't buying it but he let's it go with a shrug. "Oh well, more for me then." he said before shoving the fork into his mouth.

"Y/N! Stop spacing out bout Jisung and talk to us, God dammit!"

You blinked, realising you were spacing out again when you realised your members had gathered together in front of the camera, waving at you in concern. "Sorry, what?" you muttered under your breath, your voice almost inaudible for the phone to pick up as you internally slapped yourself for thinking bout Jisung despite the awkward situation you're currently in.

"Stop spacing out bout Jisung, God dammit!" Jaehwa joked, causing you to involuntarily choke on your own spit at her words. "Jaehwa, no." you shook your head vigorously. "Don't make my situation any worse than it already is, for fucks sakes!" you groaned, burying your head into your pillow once again.

They snickered softly, enjoying your suffering for their own entertainment. Sometimes you wished you had debuted with people who don't make you want to roast yourself over the kitchen stove like marshmallow on a stick.

"It'll all be over when you know it. Don't worry, you're not that awkward of a person, so you should be fine." Haneul waved her hand off with a casual shrug. You rolled your eyes. "Shut it, you're still the maknae. You don't understand shit of what the grown ups are talking bout." you teased.

Haneul clicked her tongue in annoyance, sending you a sharp glare. "I'm only 15 months younger than you and you know it!" she hissed in retaliation, threateningly pointing her apple pen directly at you through the screen when you stuck your tongue out.

"Alright, we'll let you get some rest now before Haneul over here flies to Japan to shove her pen up your ass." Cheonsa chuckled nervously, pulling the younger member, who was glaring daggers at you, out of the camera by her shoulders.

"Okay then, I'll call you guys tomorrow, yeah?" you nodded, waving at them as your thumb hovered over the end call button. "Yeah, of course. Say hi to the manager for us, Jeongin, too!" Jaehwa waved back as you let out a giggle. "I will, see you guys later!" you rolled your eyes at them.

"By-" you pressed the end call button before they could finish their sentence, wanting to sleep the stress off of your body before you have to face Jisung the next day. You pulled the covers over your body, closing your eyes with an exhausted sigh.

Hopefully things would be better tomorrow.

You tiptoed your way into the set, as if hundreds of staff members and prop makers weren’t passing by you and greeting you with questionable looks. Now, why were you tiptoeing like a really crappy secret agent in an overly crowded place, you may ask?

Mostly to avoid your co-workers from giving you smug expressions and teasing looks with the memory of the events that had happen the previous day. Your members had wished you luck on your journey to get through this awkward day, wishing that you could just erase the events that had happen so you could go back to stepping into set with pajamas without a care in the world.

As you made your way to the dressing room, to your surprise all of the cast had gotten into costume and are currently shooting their respective scenes, meaning you had less than two or three hours to gather your mentality and ignore the awkward tension in the atmosphere.

Was this what every actor who had to kiss their co-star had to go through?

Yikes, you couldn’t imagine how Lee Dongwook could bare being love interests with the same co-star for two whole dramas. Your eyes widened when you caught Yeoreum walking towards your way, reciting her lines with the her manager. You gulped, walking back slowly as to not catch her attention, not knowing who or what was behind you.

It appears that the universe isn’t on your side today, because apparently you walked too far backwards to bump into your co-star’s back. Jisung let out a grunt as your back bumped against his, causing you to let out a yelp. You turned to shush him, scolding him for almost blowing your cover when you realize who you were talking to.

You and Jisung jumped apart when your eyes met, making sure to at least stand a feet far apart. Jisung cleared his throat as you both tried to mask your shocked expressions. You both avoided making eye contact as you tried to think of something to say to fill in this awkward tension between you two.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Jisung coughed, eyes looking everywhere but yours.You gave him a pointed look. “I work here,” you deadpanned, rolling your eyes at him. “Give me some crap, I’m trying to make this less awkward, you’re not helping here, y/n.” he stuck his tongue out at you.

You huffed in response, adding another moment of awkward silence between you two. It was so awkward you could practically hear crows and crickets in the background, “Where are you going, anyways?” you mumbled, wondering why he wasn’t at his usual spot at the food area, munching away at the desserts and snacks before Youngheum could finish them.

“I was heading back to my trailer to get my script,” Jisung mumbled, running a hair through his messy hair. “Isn’t your trailer that way?” you raised your brow, pointing to the direction behind him. Jisung huffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m taking the long way round, got a problem with that?” he spoke hesitantly, eyes finally meeting yours before gulping.

“I’ll take your word for it,” you mumbled, looking down as you lowered your finger to tuck it into the pockets of your hoodie. “What bout you?” Jisung added on, eyes wandering to his dirty white converse. “Trying to get to the dressing room,” you answered with the same hesitantly awkward tone.

“Cool,” Jisung sighed out. You both stood there for another excruciating few seconds before making eye contact. It appears the tension had gotten a little too awkward for the both of you, therefore you both instantly looked away with a loud groan. You both turned back with a bold “fuck it!” coming out of your mouths in unison as you ran off in the other direction.

How were you gonna survive this?

a/n: this was a short chapter. IM SORRY FOR KEEPING YALL WAITING FOR SO LONG. Omg look at that sexy title cover, yeah I'm gonna change that eventually. Anyways, thank you for waiting this long I completely forgot this fic existed.