#and it was like other than the dimples what else do they have in common physically? 💀💀💀

[idiosyncraticrednebula]

I'm glad the era of comparing any guy with mildly dark hair (sometimes they even scratched that) and a white shirt to Eric is finally over 💀

[thepenultimateword]

Your stuff is so good!! You should write a villain x weapon designer civilian snippet :0

Thank you, thank you, friend! Also, I’m loving the idea of that dynamic, so here you go!

CW: Weapons, unconsciousness, knockout gas

...

“Move and I’ll blow your head off.”

The ridges on the gun's metal barrel dug sharply into Civilian's hand, but they managed to keep their aim and voice steady as they pointed both at the villain in front of them. The criminal was currently backed up against the train doors, hands in the air, gas mask dangling nonchalantly off two fingers.

The villain raised their brow. "What are you some sort of hero?"

"No talking."

"I've never seen you before. I thought I'd met all of the agency's sentinals in white. Though you're not exactly dressed for the position. Maybe you're not--"

"I said no talking!" Civilian barked, taking a step forward and jerking the gun forward menacingly.

"Ok! Ok!" Villain said. They raised their hands higher. “Touch-y.”

On any other day, Civilian would have been like the other passengers, huddled up together in the far corners of the train or pressed back tight in their seats, as if they could disappear by mere force of will. But today, Civilian had been tasked with transporting their newest prototype to the agency for a demonstration. An electro-pulse gun that they’d tested on no less than five watermelons the night before. They were well acquainted with the damage it could do. They’d ripped the thing from its protective case without even thinking.

“I’ve already alerted the heroes to your location,” Civilian said. “So there’s no point in fighting anymore. Stay still until the next station and you’ll be arrested in one piece.”

“You alerted the heroes?” The villain raised both brows high. “How? I jammed the cell signals over the next twenty miles. Unless…” They grinned. “You have some other form of contact. You do work for the agency, don’t you?”

“Have you listened to a thing I've said? No more questions!"

“You’re the one who keeps chatting, darling. What? Nervous?”

Yes. And no. Their body was alight with adrenaline, every nerve a buzzing, quivering charge, and yet at the same time, they were surreally confident, gut numb and mind blank.

Villain pushed lightly off the doors with their elbows, taking a small, probing step forward. “Would you even really shoot?”

“You really want to try me?"

“You heroes make a lot of talk but not much action. What, don’t you have a code? 'Do no harm' or something like that? Besides, you're so cute." Another step forward. "I don't think you've ever been in a fight, let alone killed someone, so why don't you just--"

Civilian aimed the gun at the ceiling and squeezed the trigger. The energy projectile punched through the metal with ear-splitting BANG! The passengers shrieked. Villain knocked back against the doors with a thud.

The wind whistled loudly overhead as the air whooshed over the new gap in the roof, and after that shot, their ears might as well have been stuffed full of cotton, but even if they couldn't quite measure their own volume, they fixed the gun back on Villain's head and drove their point home.

“I’m really trying not to traumatize all these lovely people with the visual of your head exploding, and honestly, I’d really rather not kill you. But if you press me…if you doubt me, you’ll be dead faster than you can question me again.”

Villain gripped their mask abit tighter but their expression remained smooth and their posture loose. They whistled a long low note. “You’re something else, gunslinger. When this is all over, feel free to look me up anytime.”

“Fortunately, I don’t frequent prisons.”

“Me neither." Villain flashed a broader grin, full of white teeth and pocked with a dimple on one side. "Looks like we have something in common.”

The train screeched, the deceleration sending everyone lurching a bit to the right. In that exact moment, when Civilian's gun swayed a few centimeters off target, the villain's free hand shot to their belt.

"Hey!" Civilian shouted, stumbling a little as the train came to a complete stop. Villain tossed something small and round to the floor. Ping! Ping! It bounced twice, rolled a little into the aisle, and exploded in a cloud of cool fog. No not fog. Gas.

Civilian immediately turned their face into their shoulder, tipping the gun even further off target. The whole train car shrieked while Villain calmly pulled the gas mask over their head, obscuring the beginnings of an infuriating grin. Civilian opened their mouth to launch another threat but immediately choked on the sickly sweet gas. It raised around them so rapidly, they could barely see the nose of the weapon let alone, Villain. Not to mention...everything was getting sorta...slanty...

"S-sleepin'gas?" they slurred.

"I was never here to harm any of you." Villain's muffled voice seemed to come from all directions, echoey and distorted.

Civilian fell to one knee. Was it normal to feel like their head was buzzing?

"You made a really cute gunslinger, though. Like a western sheriff. Or an outlaw. Bet you'd be good in a holdup."

The train doors hissed as they opened. As some of the gas slipped free, they caught a glimpse of the Villain's shoulder as they darted out onto the platform.

The gun suddenly felt so heavy in their arms but they forced it up anyway. The barrel tipped to and fro, and their finger trembled on the trigger. They wanted to risk a blind shot, but there could be dozens of people standing outside on that platform. If they hit anyone else...

Their vision blurred, then blackened. They barely managed to set the gun down on the metal floor before passing out over top of it.

When they awoke, they were in the agency medical wing. They recognized it immediately by its obnoxious orange bedsheets and, well, Keith. Sort of hard to miss a giant, shining man in hero-white scrubs.

Civilian slowly pushed themselves upright. Their head throbbed with the movement, and they let out a rogue groan.

Keith turned away from the figure two beds down, covered from head to toe in bruises and now enveloped in their own cocoon of white luminescence.

"Civilian!" Keith beamed, light glimmering off his teeth. "You've regained consciousness! Any pain?"

Civilian rubbed the bridge of their nose. "Just my head... Was I hurt?"

"Not necessarily." Keith pressed both large hands to the sides of Civilian's skull. Civilian closed their eyes as they healer's glow wrapped around their head. Warmth trickled over their face and under their skin, ebbing the pain away little by little. "Just a very large dose of some sort of gaseous anesthesia. Luckily, there have been no long-term consequences so far. The ventilation created by the hole in the roof probably lessened some of the potency. Your handiwork?"

The events on the train rushed back all at once. They pulled out of Keith's grasp.

"Did we get them?" They looked rapidly around their bedside. "Where's my pulse gun?"

Keith stepped back and leaned against the empty bed beside Civilian's. "The gun is in weapons testing, I think."

"And the villain?"

"No. They escaped. We arrived just moments too late before they must have blended with the crowd.

Civlian threw themself back against their pillows with a heavy sigh. "Great."

"You still helped. You stopped Villain from completing whatever they originally planned and provided many citizens with immediate medical treatment by calling us in."

"Oh yeeeeah, I'm sure the whole team was just dazzled by my competence and quick-thinking. Especially when I couldn't hold Villain in place on anything but a moving train."

Keith frowned. "You don't need the title to be a hero."

"Thanks, Keith, that's really nice and heartfelt, and I'm sure you believe it, but seeing how you do have the title, and no one in power here thinks the same, it doesn't really mean that much to me."

Keith frowned but luckily didn't argue any further. Civilian knew they were being rude, but they really didn't need anyone else telling them that they were special the way they were. That they could do good their own way. That being a hero didn't even matter that much. It mattered a whole lot to them. And now they'd practically proven the entire agency right.

"What were they even doing on that train?"

"Robbery?" Keith shrugged. "Knock out the passengers and loot all their valuables."

"Alone?" Civilian traced the lines of the ceiling panels with their eyes. "They didn't even have a bag. How much could they have gathered if they planned on knocking out an entire train?"

"We don't know they were alone. They could have easily had accomplices posing as civilians throughout the train."

"True... Does the agency have a file on them? Tall, skinny, long black coat, annoyingly perfect eyebrows. Didn't show a power."

"I could look...but I'm not supposed to share that sort of info outside of other heroes..."

"Come on! What was that whole, 'you don't need a title' nonsense?"

"It wasn't nonsense! You are a hero! Just...not a legally sanctioned one."

Civilian sat back up and lowered their voice. "Come on, Keith. I'm not going to do anything; I'm just curious. You don't even have to give me the whole file. Just take a couple pictures of anything you think might also be on the news."

Keith grimaced.

"Please? I was so close today. So close to being what I always planned to be... Just let me chase that high a little longer. Then I'll go back to the weapons lab and never mention it again. Promise."

Keith inhaled a long breath, letting it out in a loud, irritated sigh. "Ok, fine. But don't bring it up to anyone. Ever. And I'm only giving you the first page."

Civilian's insides sank a little; they weren't sure what a first page of a villain file looked like, but they could assume it wasn't much. But they couldn't really be picky, so... "That's fine. Just the first page is perfect."

Keith looked like they had hoped that detail would deter them, but he continued on. "It might take awhile. I'm a hero, but I'm a healer, so no one is expecting me to march into the files room and request info on villains."

"That's ok, I can be patient. I work in weapons, remember? That's like the ultimate test in being patient."

Keith slid a hand over his face. "Ok. I'm also going to need more detail than 'annoyingly perfect eyebrows.'"

[spaceistheplaceart]

Body Swap - The Exorcism Part One

finally done... ough. its really hard to make shigeo emote just the right amount... hes such a deadpan boy its hard to have variance over the panels

masterpost

previous

(Please Reblog! Leave a comment in the tags! They make me very happy :)

SUMMARIZED ID: Reigen gives Mob a pep talk about speaking to other people and tells him he just has to gain experience by training his social skills. Mob is at 50% progress towards his explosion. They arrive at the clients house and Dimple leaves due to the powerful spirits inside. FULL ID UNDER CUT

START ID:

(This is a body swap, so I'll be referring to the characters as who they actually are but keep in mind that Reigen is in Mob's body and vice versa.)

"Reigen is speaking to Mob,his hand is on his shoulder and he's holding up one finger while speaking. Reigen says, "There is no set way to get along with other people. Because every person is unique- what might be the right thing to say to someone, could be the wrong thing for somebody else, understand?"

Mob looks at Reigen with a slightly awed expression. Reigen continues, "The best you can do is try to treat people with the same kindness you'd want for yourself."

Reigen smiles and leans over a bit, putting his free arm up on his knee that's perched on the curb. His other hand is still on Reigen's shoulder. Dimple is sitting to the right of Mob on the curb, with two little legs dangling over the edge. Reigen continues, patting Mob on the back. "More than likely, they're feeling just as awkward as you are! Nobody's got it all figured out- it only seems that way because you're not seeing the bigger picture of their lives."

Reigen holds up two fingers, smirking confidently. "People who are really good at talking to others benefit from common sense and experience." He gestures his hand out and shrugs a little dismissively. "And while you don't have common sense," He points at Mob, smiling widely again. "You can get experience!" He places his hand over his mouth in thought. "You're still in that exercise club, right?"

"Mhmm." Mob replies. Reigen points at him. "How much can you lift right now?"

Mob looks a little embarrassed, averting his eyes with a slight blush on his cheeks. "mm... 35 pounds."

"And how much could you lift when you started?" Reigen asks. Mob looks back to him, eyebrows raised slightly and a sweatdrop on his cheek. "20." He answers.

Reigen beams and holds up a finger, gesticulating. "That's a huge improvement, right!? But that's only because you trained everyday."

He tilts his head slightly downward, lopsidedly grinning, and confidently looks at Mob. "You have to train your social skills too, remember that."

He continues, "Hey, why don't you start helping me with consultations every once in a while? We can start small."

Mob's lips are slightly parted and he looks at Reigen in slight awe. "It's like training...?" He thinks to himself. He smiles, eyes shining and nods. "Yeah."

PROGRESS TOWARDS EXPLOSION: 50%

A transition panel of the top of a taxi, just showing the 'taxi' sign on the top of the car as speed lines go across the panel horizontally.

Mob and Reigen stand outside the clients house. It very boxy in shape with a square roof and garage. The windows are in triplets and shaped like rectangles. There is one small tree in front of the house. The double doors are framed by an angular archway and are dark. Above the archway is a semicircle window. Outside is a square, brick, fence.

Reigen knocks on the door. Hiroto opens the door. Reigen looks up at Hiroto, the camera angle makes him seem smaller. He is smiling up at him with his customer service smile. "Good evening, Mr. Hiroto!" Reigen greets.

Hiroto crouches down, hands on his knees, and smiles at Reigen. "Good evening, young man. You're right on time!"

"Come on in." He continues. Reigen keeps his smile, but it's tighter and strained now. There's an angry pulse symbol on his forehead. He heads inside with Hiroto. Mob stays stood outside.

Mob looks behind him at Dimple, who is floating away. "Dimple? Are you going somewhere?"

Dimple turns to Mob. "Yeah. I can tell there's some pretty powerful spirits in there so... I'm gonna steer clear for now."

He shrugs, smiling in a lighthearted manner. "Would've been fun to see Reigen try to use your powers, though!"

"Oh." Mob says.

Dimple's lightheartedness lessens and he looks a little unsure. "But... uh... if you need me... you know how to reach me, right?"

Mob nods, smiling slightly.

Dimple floats off, waving behind his back to Mob. "Alright, good luck. And don't let Reigen get your body killed! You don't wanna be stuck looking like that forever, ahaa!~"

END ID

[mitsybubbles]

Age swap Serizawa and Tome edit

Plus some ideas I wrote about it below after talking at lenght about it with @acekindaneat

Tome runs spirits and such but keeping herself at a small distance because she’s terrified of sharing with other people and being dismissed so it’s a way of doing things “herself” but she’s not a psychic even though she wants to be and she needs People. Because of this she’s a little more interested in pursuing urban legends cases, haunting cases, or mysteries and tends to be disappointed if there is a normal explanation for it

Serizawa is a former shut in who was coaxed out by Tome after his mom hired her (since she claimed to be a psychic consultant) and is currently “training” him in his abilities. He just moved to a new middle school and is very anxious about being a member of society and fitting in without losing control again

Reigen is a year below Serizawa at their school and acts like a normal student during class hours and is well liked but not close to anyone but after hours he spends his time trying to “become someone of note” because he feels isolated by the norms of society. He keeps getting obsessed with and switching hobbies every other week. His current one when the story starts is private investigation. His sister is a year above Serizawa and is a top student

Mob is a NEET in who hid himself away after his powers caused several accidents and fractured his relationship with his younger brother. He only leaves to get amenities and he relies on his parents support or on a work at home job for money

Dimple is a new spirit who doesn’t know what his place in the world is yet. He doesn’t have a human form or memories but he still has human desires and impulses so he feels out of place in it.

-Serizawa finds Reigen researching into the LOL cult after he joined it hoping to make some friends and they both get sucked into the supernatural conspiracy behind it. Reigen realizes Seri is a psychic and decides he’s now into the occult and demands his boss hire him and drags him to Tome’s office

- Tome meeting adult Mezato and then coming to blows ala Reigen and Roshuuto because Tome is annoyed that Mezato is seeking out the occult “because she’s bored”

-Serizawa being cajoled by Toichirou to join his little gang and Serizawa actually enjoying it and seeing claw as his friends even tho he felt guilty about hurting other gang members but “it’s okay because Master Kurata says it’s okay to protect yourself from bad people right?” Also he was given the umbrella as a gift and Tome and Reigen notices how much Seri’s been using it and Tone mostly goes “huh you’re skills are coming along ig” because while shes supportive she also isn’t very attentive and Reigen’s more suspicious because seirzawa is spending less time with him. Due to being scared that his first real friend would leave him, Reigen is a little threatened by that so he lashes on seri. They argue and seri stops hanging with reigen. Then reigen feels bad and decides to apologize and gets caught by Toichi + co in a small hazing ritual to get seri to stop comparing himself as the same level as “commoners” by denouncing his friendship with a nonesper. So then they fight when seri refuses to and finally seri insists that he doesn’t have to be stronger or weaker than anyone else to get to have proper connections and he breaks the umbrella saving Reigen from crossfire

And then later Reigen feels bad about everything (and he also realizes Toichirou was right that he was only friends with seri because he was an esper) so he gives seri some pokemon cards playing it off by saying he had those laying around his room and gets thrown off when Seri is openly emotional about it and hugs him. Meanwhile Toichirou is reevaluating everything because everyone sort of ditched him after he wasn’t giving them smth in return (except Hatori sort of lol- Hatori likes his presence Enough and the StuCo leader Joseph who was trying to get him suspended)

Minegeshi is like 20 here and runs a flower shop that the kids hang out in. It’s probably destroyed now. Sorry my dude.

-Reigen wanting to search for the dragger after his sister tells him he can’t keep “goofing around” otherwise his parents will force him to settle on an proper interest

-Some kids hiring Tome to find a “ghost” that lives on their street and it ended up being Mob who refuses to interact with them in a meaningful way. Seri makes it his mission to help him. Serizawa wants to ‘prove’ hes better now by helping someone like him but then he and Mob make a connection and Serizawa understands that he has to let Mob accept himself and make that step himself.

Also Tome shows Mob the benefits of releasing one’s emotions in a safe space.

-Reigen and Mob meet at the office and really hit it off

-Teru hiring the gang to come exercise a spirit in his TV studio and he and Mob end up fighting because he thought he was the best esper ever, you know the deal. And meanwhile Tome and the kids deal with the spirit of Mogami who was a psychic child star that haunted Teru and possessed Minori because he’s jaded by people who lie and use others to get notoriety

-Roshuuto is like a wannabe popular kid that annoys the hell out of Reigen because he pretends to be people’s friends and dumps them for someone better and now he’s trying to do occult stuff for clout

-Hoshida is an exorcist without any powers that we know of but he’s really nice and genuinely cares about helping others. He’s one of Tome’s informants

-Separation arc where Tome closed spirits and such briefly after Serizawa leaves to “be a normal kid” for a while because she thinks she won’t find anything meaningful about the paranormal she was searching for because she’s only humoring people- it ends up with her meeting people from middle and highschool she fell out of touch with because of simmilar things and her realizing she should continue to do whatever she loves and she should also pay more attention to the kid who she genuinely cares for and vice versa even if he isn’t going along with her whims 24/7

-Mob trying to reconnect with Ritsu

-Confession arc where Serizawa injures his mother in an incident after he thought he was doing “better” so he runs away and has to confront his own powers- and Tome having to come to an understanding with him too

[evanpetersmybf]

Scary Love

Kit Walker x female!reader

Summary: A future nun with trust issues and a falsely accused gentleman.

Genre: Fluff and some angst.

Word count: 1,381

Warnings: Catholic reader and mention of some religious items (not really sure if this counts as a warning, but okay)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ཐི ♡ ཋྀ

...And lead us not into temptation,

but deliver us from evil.

Amen.

You crossed yourself, still kneeling down in front of the crucifix, hands holding a Holy Mary medal.

The chapel was quiet and peaceful, a big difference in comparison to the rest of the asylum, which was always filled with screams and many other disturbing stuff. How did you end up in this hellhole? That’s the question you ask yourself every night before going to sleep. Ah yes, you were the one who took this decision. No one forced you.

You returned to the main room; a jukebox eternally playing Dominique non-stop while all the patients coexisted in the common hall.

And there he was. The one and only Kit Walker. Probably the most sane person in the habitation right now, besides you of course.

The handsome man saw you and a sweet smile appeared on his face, cute dimples along the lovely grin. Seeing him made you feel multiple things at the same time. Things you didn’t allow yourself to feel. With a heavy sigh of remorse, you avoided his gaze and kept walking around, finding an excuse to get away from him.

Kit’s brows furrowed, not getting what was happening. Why were you avoiding him? He thought you two were good friends now. In reality, you were one of the few people in the psychiatric who actually treated him as a human being and not as a crazy murderer -which he clearly wasn’t, tho- and that melted his heart.

He followed you from behind, but you kept escaping.

“Sista’!” He pleaded, until was finally able to catch up and grabbed your hand, making you turn around to face him. “Sista’ Y/N, what's goin’ on?” His dark doe eyes tried to meet yours, as an attempt to find an answer.

Nothing.

Kit scoffed, making early assumptions due to your lack of reaction. “So do ya’ really believe in that bullshit, huh? Ya’ really think I killed my wife?” Annoyed, the man let go of your hand, but deep down he hoped you didn’t think of him that way.

“No, wait!” You replied, looking down at the floor while fidgeting with a cross necklace hanging around your neck. “Is not like that, Kit…”

“Then what is it, sista’? Are ya’ scared of me?”

“I actually am.” You took a deep breath and stared at his eyes after hesitating for a while. “I’m afraid you are the temptation, Kit.”

The brunet raised an eyebrow, having more questions than answers. “Whatcha’ mean, sista’? Da’ temptation?”

“The temptation I always pray to God to keep far from me.” Your gaze drifted to his forearms; thick veins and big hands. Oh Lord.

Kit realized you were staring down. He tried to discover what were you looking at, until he noticed your eyes and a subtle blush on your cheeks.

He smirked and crossed his arms in front of him. That cheeky smile. The one who made you head over heels.

“Oh, so now I’m da’ devil, hm?”

You didn’t say anything else. You ran away from him and locked yourself in your room.

Kit was always on your mind. No matter what you did, he was always there. Even when you attempted to pray, you heard his voice. Maybe you need to be the patient and not a novice.

After a long sleepless night, you found yourself in the kitchen early in the morning, just to find Kit kneading dough and mumbling some things to himself.

“Mornin’, sista’” Voice soft like honey, yet it showed some concern because of what happened yesterday between you two. “Ya’ ‘kay?”

“Mhm…” Of course not. You weren’t okay. You felt conflicted.

“If I may ask… Why did ya’ become a nun?”

“I’m not a nun yet. I haven’t made my vows. I’m here tryin’ to find out if this truly is my vocation or not.”

“And? Have you made up your mind?”

You shook your head no, hugging yourself and looking at his arms, again. “You’re the reason why I don’t know if I belong here.”

Kit let out a chuckle, feeling amused by your shyness and obvious fixation on his limbs.

“Why do ya’ always stare at my hands, sista’? Do ya’ like ‘em?”

Your face went red, eyes slightly widened. Damn. He noticed it.

“I’m not supposed to like those sinful things.”

“Ya’ a human too, Y/N”

“But I wasn’t made for this. For affection or lust.”

Kit was curious about what you meant by that. You explained everything to him, saying you felt out of place because when you were growing up not a single boy flirted with you. Besides, you said you had many awful love experiences and, after a serious heartbreak, you began to wonder if possibly your destiny was staying single and dedicating the rest of your life to God. Furthermore, you mentioned your fear of physical touch, and how you still desired it. It was complicated.

The man listened to you, looking at how you fidgeted with a chain while you nervously told your story, taking note of how your soothing voice cracked from time to time.

Everything about you was so alluring to him. He couldn’t believe no one treated you right. And, as the gentleman he was, he wanted to change that.

“Well, sista’... To me, you’re one of da’ most beautiful women alive. I mean it.” Kit took a few steps closer to you, but kept a fair distance in order to not make you uncomfortable.

He cracked a smile, in love with those charming eyes of yours.

“If I’m that beautiful, why haven't I been loved, Kit? Tell me why–”

Kit was now some inches away from your face contemplating your lips. He placed a hand over your mouth, not letting you finish your sentence.

You tried to speak, but it was nonsense; his palm muffling your words.

“Y/N, ‘m not like those assholes. Not at all. Trust me, please.”

He let you speak again, now intertwining his fingers with yours. His body was warm, his touch was gentle and comforting, the type of connection you’ve been craving for too long. Walker was so good-looking; you could look at him forever… And he could look at you for the rest of eternity, too.

“Can I, gorgeous?” His thumb brushed your lips and part of your cheek, sending electric waves to your spine.

Was this even for real? You doubt it. You thought he was messing around, but he wasn’t.

Fearfully, you agreed.

Finally, Kit leaned in and pressed his chapped lips against your velvety ones. The kiss was tender, full of endearment. His heart was beating fast, so was yours. Pupils dilated and breathing deep.

He cupped the side of your face, rubbing the flesh with his digit while you melted under his touch.

This was the very first time that someone held you the way he did. Embracing you as if you were the most precious gem, or as if you were made of delicate porcelain.

Eventually, he pulled away and grinned, both of you feeling like dorky teens after having their first kiss, even if that wasn’t the case. “Ya’ so divine…” Kit mumbled and then, his lips were dancing with yours.

He stepped back from time to time exclusively to flatter you, saying corny compliments between the kisses.

His hands were roaming all over your body, caressing every right spot to make you feel in heaven.

He was so good at this.

But… Did this have a future?

Kit was here in Briarcliff, falsely accused of committing a murder. Not only that, you were a novice. This love couldn’t be.

Your mind overwhelmed you with those thoughts, making you abruptly get away from him.

“No, Kit, I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” Or perhaps you could. You felt like losing your mind. Love was making you crazy. However, you couldn’t allow yourself to feel, nor risk his safety for this. Maybe you were scared of his love. Of how much he was caring for you. You didn’t understand.

Without further ado, you left the cold kitchen, once filled with sweetness and adoration.

Kit remained there, a single tear drop falling from his eye, wondering if he could ever be happy again.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ཐི ♡ ཋྀ

A/N: English isn't my first language. Sorry if this has grammatical mistakes. Also, I tried to be respectful with the religion, I'm catholic myself and I'm so sorry if this offends someone. Hope you enjoy it! ^^

[vivienne-writes]

I'll Ingrain Your Touch Into My Memory

“That’s what it feels like when you touch me. Like millions of tiny universes being born and then dying in the space between your finger and my skin. Sometimes I forget.”

― Iain Thomas, I Wrote This For You

“Come on, Ominis, just this once,” Poppy pleaded with the sweetest tone of voice she could muster.

It was a fine Saturday afternoon when Poppy managed to rope MC and Imelda into her latest venture: getting Ominis to describe what each of them may look like based on touch. They had spent all morning trying to track him down and poor Ominis, catching wind of their plans, spent all of his morning trying to escape their clutches. He would have tucked himself away in the Slytherin dormitory, but Imelda could have easily let them in.

He was headed towards the boathouse to plant himself there for the rest of the evening when Imelda, atop her broom, managed to spot him and corner him at the clocktower courtyard. Now surrounded by the trio, Ominis had no escape and Sebastian was nowhere in sight to help him.

“I’d like to go about my weekend without hexing anyone, if you don’t mind,” he grumbled angrily.

“It won’t take too long; I promise I won’t ask for anything else!” once Poppy has made up her mind, there was no swaying her.

“I’m not a plaything,” Ominis argued, although his resolve was weakening. He was tired and the thought of curling up for a nap sounded incredibly tempting. He’d much rather nap by the fireplace in the Slytherin common room, basking in the warmth of the hearth, than spend any more time running away and hiding.

“Humor us, please?” you finally spoke up gently. Originally you accompanied Poppy to indulge her, but really, you were just as curious to see what Ominis’ would say. And maybe, although you refused to admit as much to yourself, you wanted to know what his touch felt like.

Little did you know, Ominis harbored a bit of a crush on you. He was under the assumption that he’d only have to feel Poppy’s face but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he got to touch yours too. And truthfully, he didn’t have the heart to deny you.

“If I do this, do you lot promise to never bring this up again?” he asked with a sigh.

“Cross our hearts,” said Imelda as she leaned against her broomstick.

“Alright then. Sweeting, you first,” Ominis reached out both hands which Poppy pulled to her face eagerly. He took his time, running his fingers over her nose, her forehead, her chin. He contemplated his answer thoughtfully. “You’ve a very soft face and I can tell you’re smiling. These dips right here, are these dimples?”

Poppy nodded, urging him to go on. Ominis felt her bangs, fingers twirling the strands down to the tips. “I didn’t realize you had short hair,” he muttered, more so to himself. “I think you live up to your namesake. You must have a very sweet, kind face. Also, you’re much shorter than I expected.”

“I can live with that!” Poppy beamed cheerfully. “Now your turn!”

She pushed you towards Ominis, whose heart began to beat so rapidly, he was afraid you’d realize how nervous he was. Maybe his feelings for you weren’t as insignificant as he thought they were. He wiped his hands anxiously on his robes, hoping you wouldn’t find them clammy or sweaty.

“I’m right here, Ominis,” you said as he reached out towards you. You took his hands softly in yours, placing them gently on your cheeks. You found them to be firm but so smooth, it took everything in you not to nuzzle your face into his palms.

Ominis, on the other hand, was struggling to focus. He had wondered countless times what it would feel like to touch you, your hands, your face. And here you were, warm and pleasant to the touch. He noted the curvature of your cheekbone, the delicate shape of your jaw, the flutter of your eyelashes against his skin. He brushed a thumb lightly over your lips, breath hitching ever so slightly as he took in their plumpness. His mind began to stray, wondering how your lips would feel against his. When he began to run his fingers through your hair, you had to stop yourself from letting out a moan. It took every ounce of self-control you had to stay grounded. Meanwhile, Ominis was wondering whether running a hand down your neck would be too much when Imelda pulled you away abruptly.

“Hurry up Gaunt, we don’t have all day,” she demanded, grabbing his hands forcefully. You were somewhat relieved she pulled you away. Otherwise, you would have stood there all night, entranced by the feel of his dexterous fingers. But it didn’t satiate your curiosity, it just made you crave it more.

“You have a strong forehead, quite the forceful chin,” Ominis mused, fingers wandering Imelda’s face now. “Yes, I think I have a good idea as to what you look like, Reyes.”

“Go on then,” said Imelda, smugly expecting a compliment.

“You’ve got a face only a mother could love,” he smirked cheekily. Imelda swung her fist, dropping her broom and narrowly missing Ominis’ face. She would have landed her mark if you and Poppy hadn’t jumped to pull her back in time.

“Have a good evening!” Ominis called over his shoulder as he began making his way back inside, Imelda’s insults ringing in the air. He was hoping to return to the privacy of his room to replay the memory of your touch over and over in his head when he bumped into Sebastian.

“You were here this whole time and didn’t step in to help me?” Ominis asked incredulously.

“Help you? I was doing you a favor,” Sebastian chuckled. “So, tell me, did she feel as good as you expected?”

“Don’t be so crude, Sebastian,” Ominis scolded, aware of the heat creeping up his face. But he couldn’t deny that your touch not only felt better than he expected, but it had permanently ingrained itself into his memory.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

From Hell to Home To Back Again

Summary: At the talent show, Chrissy Cunningham is so hungry that she nearly collapses. When she's found by Hopper, her parents ended up losing custody of her. She ends up being placed in the care of the Hendersons, and she finally finds the family she so desperately needed. She also ends up falling in love. What other changes are made in this alternate universe?

@emen-98

Chapter one

Chapter Two

Chrissy frowned as she walked to class. She didn't mean to make Dustin feel so bad, but he shouldn't have left home like that. What if something had happened to him? She had told him she didn't want to lose another brother, but maybe that was too far. He just wanted to go look for his friend. Was she turning into her birth mother?

"No," Steve said.

When did she get to Nancy's locker? She blinked at Steve.

"What?"

"No, you are not turning into your mother," Steve said. "I know that look. What happened?"

"I got into a fight with my brother last night for sneaking out," Chrissy said.

"Oh, I thought you and your mom knew he was at my house," Nancy said. "I have no idea what they were doing in the basement."

"Planning to look for Will probably," Chrissy said. "I told him I didn't want to lose another brother and he looked so guilty."

"He knows you love him, and that's something your mother would never say. Think Wilbur," Steve said and touched Chrissy's nose.

"You know about Wilbur?" Nancy asked.

"Yeah, of course," Steve said. "I think it's cute."

"Me too," Nancy said, looking at him fondly.

Chrissy smiled at the pair of them. They were so cute. Meanwhile, Barb was rolling her eyes. Chrissy nudged her, and she grinned. She leaned next to Barb and raised her eyebrow questioningly. Barb shook her head. She wasn't ready to talk. Chrissy bumped her shoulder playfully, and Barb smiled. She let her eyes drift for a moment as Steve and Nancy did their little dance. Chrissy's eyes landed on a locker all the way across the hall. Leaning against the locker was a long-legged girl in a corduroy baseball cap, talking to none other than Eddie Munson. Eddie. Chrissy bit her lip. She hadn't talked to him since the Talent Show. It wasn't that she didn't want to. It was just that life kind of got in the way, and she spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to figure out her new life under a new roof with a new name and family. Before she knew it, time got away from her.

Now, here she was, and suddenly, the memory of that night came flooding back. He was still as cute as she remembered, cuter even. His hair was longer and very curly. He wore a vest now with pins and patches that look put on by himself. His shirt was a faded Led Zeppelin shirt. The same white one that she had. Chrissy was kind of surprised that it wasn't a heavy metal band like Iron Maiden, Black Sabbath, or Judas Priest. She vaguely recalled him playing some Black Sabbath at the Talent Show. It was the only time she listened to heavy metal. She supposed he could also like rock music too. Chrissy herself didn't have a particular taste in music, mostly listening to what sounded good to her ears at the time. It generally depended on her mood. She smiled at the shirt, wondering what else they had in common and what else they didn't. A familiar feeling tugged at her stomach. Uh oh.

Chrissy sighed. She recognized that feeling. It was the same feeling she got when she first started crushing on Heather. They hadn't dated long but long enough to know that Chrissy definitely also liked women. Luckily, they ended on good terms. She should really stop watching him before he noticed, but she was mesmerized by the gesturing of his hands and the grin on his face. Oh my God, he has dimples. Suddenly, she felt someone push her.

"Why are you staring at Eddie Munson?" Barb asked and then said with a teasing grin, "It's rude to stare, you know."

"I wasn't!" Chrissy exclaimed, blushing.

"Oh my god! Are you crushing on him?" Barb asked.

Just then, the bell rang, and Chrissy breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh, look, saved by the bell," Chrissy grinned gratefully.

"Oh, by the way, we've been invited to a party at Steve's house," Barb said.

"But it's a Tuesday," Chrissy said in confusion as they walked to class.

"That's what Nancy said. Apparently, it's going to be low-key," Barb muttered. "Whatever that means."

"It means just us, Steve, Tommy, and Carol," Chrissy said. "His parties are always low-key."

"So, he doesn't throw ragers?" She asked.

"He goes to ragers. He doesn't throw them," Chrissy replied.

"Seriously?" Barb asked and rolled her eyes.

"It's going to be fun even if Tommy and Carol are going to be there," Chrissy said.

"It'd be better without Steve too," Barb muttered.

"Barb!"

"Oh, God, look," Carol said.

Jonathan was putting up missing posters of Will.

"Oh God, that's depressing," Steve said.

"Poor Jonathan," Chrissy agreed with Steve.

"Should we say something?" Nancy asked.

"I don't think he speaks," Carol said, and Chrissy glared at her.

"How much do you want to bet he killed him?" Tommy laughed.

"Shut up," Steve and Chrissy said as Nancy walked away.

"Steve, why the fuck are you still friends with these assholes?" Chrissy asked.

"Because he'd have no one else," Carol laughed.

Chrissy could tell by the look on Steve’s face that this wasn't the first time that they said something like this. Steve tried to laugh it off, but even Barb could tell it bothered him.

"He's got Chrissy," Barb scowled.

"Oooh," Tommy said and laughed with Carol.

Somehow, Chrissy managed to get through the day even though Will entered her thoughts every so often, and even Eddie filtered in there. She made sure the kids made it to Mike's before biking over to Benny's to make up for missing yesterday. However, when she got there, police cars were out in front. She dropped her bike. Chrissy was quick and managed to dodge the cops' arms as they made to grab her. She burst into the diner and gasped at the sight of Benny lying dead at a table with a gun in his hand as though he had killed himself.

"Benny!"

Suddenly, Hopper was standing in front of her, blocking her view.

"Kid, you shouldn't be seeing this," Hopper said gently.

"He didn't kill himself!" Chrissy sobbed. "He couldn't have. He was supposed to go out with my mom this weekend. He wouldn't do that!"

"He finally asked out Claudia?" Hopper asked.

"Yes! Oh God, mom. What am I supposed to tell her?" Chrissy cried. "He's not - He's not dead."

Hopper pulled Chrissy against him and let her cry in his arms.

"Hey, you guys handle this for a moment. I'm going to take her home," Hopper said.

Her mom had been just as much of a mess as Chrissy had been when Hopper told her the news. He stayed for as long as he could, but eventually, he had to go back to the diner. Mother and daughter both cried until they fell asleep curled up on the couch. They didn't wake up until there came a knocking on the door. That's when Chrissy remembered the party. Fuck.

"Oh, I just remembered. I forgot to call and tell Barb. She's supposed to pick me up for the assembly," Chrissy said.

"Oh, go, Honey," Claudia said.

"Are you sure, mom?" Chrissy asked.

"You need to be with friends. Besides, I need to call Sue," Claudia said. "And I have Mews with me. I'll be okay."

Chrissy looked at her doubtfully for a moment before heading to the bathroom to freshen up. Her blue sweater clung to her nicely, going great with her blue jeans. She shook her hair out of its ponytail and shrugged on her white denim vest as she walked out the door.

"Are you okay?" Barb asked as she slid into the car.

"Yeah," Chrissy said and looked at how excited Nancy looked. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Barb asked.

"Yeah, just a shitty day at work," Chrissy said.

"Rude customers?" Nancy asked.

"Something like that," Chrissy replied. "Robin didn't want to come?"

"Of course, Robin didn't want to come," Nancy said. "She's too good for parties."

Chrissy couldn't help but snort at that. As much as Robin and Nancy fight, like sisters sometimes do, she also knows that they really love each other. She was surprised that Robin didn't come along to make sure Nancy stayed out of trouble with claims of invading Nancy's privacy. It was amusing to watch Nancy force Barb to pull over three blocks away from Steve's house, too afraid of what the neighbors might think.

"This is so stupid," Barb said. "I'm just going to drop you off."

"Calm down, Barb," Nancy said. "Come on, you promised that you'd go. You're coming. We're going to have a great time, aren't we, Chrissy?"

"Absolutely," Chrissy said, plastering a fake smile on her face.

"He just wants to get into your pants," Barb said and Chrissy sighed.

"No, he doesn't," Nancy said.

"Nance seriously. He invited you to his house. His parents aren't home. Come on, you are not this stupid," Barb said.

"Barb! I've told you that Steve isn't like that. He really likes Nancy," Chrissy frowned.

"Tommy and H. and Carol are going to be there," Nancy said.

"Tommy and Carol have been having sex since, like, seventh grade," Barb said. "It'll probably just be, like a big orgy."

"Okay, I don't even like Tommy and Carol but even I know that's a stupid untrue rumor," Chrissy said. "Seriously, Barb, I did not take you for a gossip. It sounds like someone's turning into their mother!"

"I am not! You take that back!" Barb exclaimed and Chrissy laughed.

"Look, Nancy's a big girl and she's smart too. She's going to do whatever she wants tonight and it's going to be her choice because Steve respects that," Chrissy said. "I love you, Barb, but you need to chill the fuck out. I need to have fun tonight and so does Nancy. You need to let your hair down, just a little bit but you don't have to do anything you don't want too either. We're all making our own choices tonight because tomorrow we could be dead."

"Thank you, Chrissy," Nancy said as she changed her sweater. "Although, the last part was a little morbid, Chris."

"Is that a new bra?" Barb asked.

"No," Nancy said, lying.

"Nance, you left the tag on!" Chrissy laughed and pulled it off.

"Oops."

When Steve opened the door, "Raise a Little Hell" by Trooper was playing in the background.

"Hello, ladies," Steve grinned.

"Hey, Steve," Chrissy said, actually ready to forget about the day she had. It's not like it could get any worse, could it?

Chrissy chugged the beer until it was completely gone and let out a loud burp. Carol and Barb looked at her in disgust while Tommy laughed with Steve.

"Oh, that's ladylike," Carol scoffed.

"I never said I was a lady," Chrissy said flipping her off. "You're further from being a lady than I am, Perkins."

Chrissy collapsed in the empty lawn chair with a grin. Not even Carol could get to her in this moment. She watched in amusement as Steve stabbed a hole in the beer with a knife and drank from it. He was clearly trying to impress Nancy. Chrissy couldn't help but giggle as Nancy pulled it off. Then Nancy tried to get Barb to do it. Chrissy rolled her eyes.

"Nothing she doesn't want to do, remember, Nance?" Chrissy asked.

"Right, of course," Nancy said.

"But you do need to stop pouting," Chrissy giggled and kissed Barb's cheek.

Right, beer makes her cross some boundaries. She looked apologetically at Barb who just shrugged and laughed it off.

"Didn't know you were a lesbian, Cunningham," Tommy cackled. "But that makes sense."

"It's Henderson, asshole, and I'm not a lesbian but thank you for thinking that I am one," Chrissy laughed as she pictured holding his head under water.

"I can do it," Barb said suddenly. "Give me the knife and the beer."

"Are you sure, Barb?" Chrissy asked with a frown.

With a look of determined look, Barb attempted to cut a hole in the can but instead, ended up cutting her hand open. She quickly rushed off to the bathroom, letting Chrissy know that she could find it by herself. She frowned as Barb walked away but her attention was pulled away when Tommy tossed Carol in the pool before Steve did the same with Nancy.

"Fuck it," Chrissy said before stripping down to her bra and panties.

Tommy, Steve, and Carol all wolf whistled as Chrissy dove into the water. In that moment, Chrissy was free of what happened today, and nothing could get to her. Although, she ended up getting out of the pool early when Carol kept giving her "fuck me" eyes. Yeah, she hated Carol too much to do that. . .as attractive as she found her. She dried her underwear as much as she could in Steve's bathroom before getting dressed and going to search for Barb. She found Nancy standing on the stairs looking down at Barb.

"Where are you going?" Barb asked Nancy.

"Nowhere. Just upstairs to change. I fell into the pool," Nancy grinned. "Why don't you just go ahead and go home? I'll get a ride or something."

"Nance - ," Barb started to say.

"I'm fine," she replied.

"This isn't you," Barb said.

"I'm fine. Just go ahead and go home. Take Chrissy," Nancy said.

Barb stormed out of the house. Chrissy grabbed Nancy's arm.

"You're going to be safe, right?" She asked. "Do you need anything?"

"I'm not - ," Nancy started to say, and Chrissy gave her a look. "I'm on birth control. You're not going to stop me?"

"Why would I? Is this something you really want to do?" Chrissy asked. "Do you like Steve?"

"Yes," Nancy said.

"Well, I already know what you're like when you make up your mind," Chrissy said. "I expect all the juicy details. Have fun. Oh, by the way. . .Steve is a heavy sleeper, so if he falls asleep after, you're going to have to slap the shit out of him to wake him up. If that doesn't work, yank very hard on his hair."

"Noted," Nancy giggled.

Chrissy wandered outside to find Barb sitting out by the pool. She was sitting on the diving board. Her feet and wrapped up hand were dangling over the water. Chrissy's heart went out to her because she looked so sad and she didn't know why. She walked over and stood by the diving board.

"Do you want to leave?" Chrissy asked.

"I want to wait," Barb said softly.

"You know what she's doing up there," Chrissy said softly.

"Making the biggest mistake of her life," Barb said. "Nancy wouldn't do this. They haven't known each other long, and suddenly, she wants to jump into bed with him like she's got something to prove."

"That's your version of her, Barb," Chrissy said. "Did you ever think that maybe she really likes Steve?"

"It's always been us against the world even when you became our friend, nothing changed, but then she started to look at Steve and I just - ," Barb cut herself off.

"What?" Chrissy asked.

"Why can't she look at me like that?" Barb asked.

"Oh, Barb," Chrissy said softly.

"She never showed an interest in boys, not really, and I thought maybe she was like me too," Barb said.

"Well, you know, just because she likes boy doesn't mean that it can't change, and it doesn't mean that you're not alone," Chrissy paused. "I never had a boyfriend before, but I do like boys. However, that doesn't mean I never had a relationship."

"You had a girlfriend?" Barb asked with wide eyes.

"Yeah, can't tell you who it was because it would mean outing her, and that would be a no-no," Chrissy said.

"Do you think Nancy might be like you?" Barb asked.

"I don't know, but it's not up to us to talk to her. Right now, everything she's experiencing needs to be her decision. She needs to explore her sexuality herself, and she doesn't need us telling her who we think she is," Chrissy said.

"What am I supposed to do?" Barb asked. "It's not like I want to hate Steve or feel like this - "

"You're just jealous. We need to support her, and in the meantime, we can hang out, so you rant and rage all you want to me until you find yourself getting a little better each day," Chrissy said.

"How do you know how to deal with this?" Barb asked.

"A lot of therapy after I got adopted and then when I was hanging out with. . .my ex, I started to realize that I like women, and I kind of freaked out. My ex had this this older cousin who walked in on us, and we both freaked out, but she sat down to talk to both of us. She really helped, and if you ever want to talk to her, I still have her number," Chrissy said. "She's a huge ally."

Barb stared thoughtfully into the water for a while, and Chrissy was pleased that she looked a little less sad.

"Thanks for being my friend, Chrissy," Barb said.

"Always," Chrissy said.

Suddenly, she felt a presence behind her, and she looked up. Chrissy opened her mouth to scream, and then she was pushed into the water with Barb, being dragged down with her as the bottom of the pool opened up. It was strange, she thought. Before she fell into the water, did she hear Argyle scream her name?

Chapter Three

[averyauthorship]

Find the word tag game!

I've gone one of these before, but I think it's fun! Let's try to see if I can find these words in my current WIP (which I have temporarily and affectionately named "What's In A D8." Get it? D8 like the dice? Also sounds like "date." It's funny. (Since the perspective switches by chapter, I labeled which of the two main characters is speaking.)

The words I have to find are: torture, talking, time, teeth.

The words I will assign to others (I'm not tagging anyone specific, just do this if you feel like it!!): mumble, smooth, jump, lift

Torture (I did not have this one, so I went back and rewrote a sentence I already didn't love!)

(Sam) The crowded JFK International isn’t much better, but I manage. And I even get to my gate thirty minutes before boarding. Then, the second flight is smooth sailing. Except I’m sitting in front of a little terror of a child who keeps reaching through the seat to tug at my curls. I want nothing more than to whip around and scold him. Teach him the lesson that you don’t touch a Black girl’s hair—EVER—or any stranger’s hair, for the matter. But I can’t bring myself to do it. With everything else going on, and with my anxiety whipped up into a nice, frenzied froth, I just sit back and accept the small torture.

Talking (Common words are hard! Gotta choose carefully...)

(Link) She’s browsing the aisles of dice and paintable figurines. Sometimes, she buys a new playbook. More often, she just buys another pack of dice. She’s purchased at least eight sets since she first started shopping here. I’m pretty sure this is my sixth time seeing her. Maybe the seventh. Whenever I’m not working, I’m here, either helping Chris with unpaid labor, or else talking their ear off about work and games, so I’ve probably been here every time she’s come in. We’ve never talked.

Time (This word comes up a LOT. It's also in my last quote, but meh.)

(Sam) Rescued any princesses? I scream internally. I’m crunched into myself on the near-empty bus, my fingers digging into my forehead. Where’s the Master Sword? What is wrong with me? When I was in kindergarten, kids used to call me Sam-I-Am, like from Green Eggs and Ham, because that was the only other Sam they knew. I remember how annoying it was to hear the same joke every single time I introduced myself to a new friend. And I just turned around and said the exact thing that this “Link” has probably heard a million times and a half.

Teeth (I'm happy I actually had something for this one. I wasn't sure.)

(Sam) With her worries resolved, and mine solidified into a hard knot in my stomach, we return to our table. Link is still sitting there, sneaking a peek at my game binder. My mouth twitches into something like a smirk. I place my hand flat on top of the page he’s perusing. “Trying to gain an advantage?” Like any good GM, I keep my stories secret. Luckily, I didn’t put anything important on that page. It’s just character backstory stuff. Link jumps back with a start. He smiles up at me, no teeth, but a dimple presses into one of his cheeks, just above the line of his beard. “I promise I don’t cheat,” he assures me. “I’m just curious. You didn’t exactly tell me anything when you invited me to play.”

[yoongileftthumbnail]

rain and taxi, the classic

:a cute drabble for my first ever post:

Contains : fluff, love at first sight, NAMJIN so you know its gay.

Working from an office especially accountancy has to be the most boring job ever. Seokjin agreed more than ever when he had been stuck in his office for over an hour. He finally got out of the building, clutching his long coat even tighter as the atmosphere was getting ready for the rain. He cursed internally, remembering that a commoner like him had no umbrella nor a transport of his own.

The handsome man looked around the area, trying to spot atleast one taxi so he could go home quick with his clothes dry. But as far as his luck could go there were cold drops of the first shower hitting his face and then showering hardly.

Fuck.

There it was. A fucking taxi. He ran over, his sleek black bag over him to protect him from the rain as much as it could. The worst thing was catching a cold and skipping workdays, it's not that he loved going to work, he just didn't want his salary cut off.

He called out for the taxi like a madman, uncaring of the judging glances. He had a bad day at work and didn't want to bother on useless things any further.

The taxi stopped at a point and Seokjin finally took his opportunity to get to the car. He was ready to let go of his bag, but was suddenly stopped by a bigger figure than himself. He winced at the sudden collision and looked up at the taller man. He was met with a unique pair of dragon eyes, the man's beauty could be further appreciated but only when Seokjin found himself at his home, cozily sitting in his sofa but not right now.

Right now, he wanted a ride home. He excused himself and went to open the car door but surprisingly he was once again halted by the stranger.

"I'm sorry, but I called him. First." Seokjin said in near desperation.

"Oh- well um I booked a cab on the app." The stranger then pointed towards his phone screen, unfortunately wet due to the rain. Seokjin's eyes expressed realization and backed away.

This was not how the day was supposed to go. He had already gotten late due to work and got a handful from his boss. Later, a cup of coffee was spilt on his WHITE shirt and he didn't even have a spare. Hence, he wore the long coat to cover himself throughout the work hour, almost melting due to the heat it brought in the already hot office. And now this...

The exhaustion of those events was clearly shown on his face so he had no option but to mope somewhere else. He bowed in apology and started to go but then the stranger stopped him.

"I usually don't do this but I can tell you need the taxi more than I do, I can wait longer, you take this one."

Seokjin was so ready to take this offer but that wasn't him. "No, it's fine, I'll wait longer."

"I'm fine-" and so the bickering began.

The taxi driver finally honked at them to get it going.

"Okay why don't we just ride the taxi together and split the bill?" Seokjin nodded. And the two of them got inside.

"My stop is near..." The stranger said. Seokjin nodded once again. Silence. Awkward silence.

It was kinda getting unbearable and then came traffic. The man grasped at his phone, typed random buttons and placed it back, finding that there was nothing that could keep him busy at the moment, Seokjin tried doing the same and found the same old same old. He didn't have a lot of friends anyways.

"Do you know what a car says when it's surprised?" Seokjin broke the ice leaving the stranger in confusion.

"What?" The other asked curiously.

"Canola oil !" And the car was filled with high pitched laughter that sounded like windshield wipers. But it was not from the stranger but from Seokjin. The joke did own a fond smile from the other though.

When the laughter died down, Jin realized his quirkiness and blushed away in embarrassment.

The stranger found this to be cute instead. It could be said in 50 languages with just that smile on his face. Dimples and all.

He nudged the blushing man on the shoulder so he look at him. "Namjoon, I'm Kim Namjoon." He said with his hands stretched out for a handshake.

"I'm Seokjin, Kim Seokjin"

And that was the start of it all.

[rynmaru]

Shoes to Fill

“My name is Castor Creed.”

No that wasn’t right…

“Hello, my name is Castor Creed!”

Too bubbly. Castor had definitely been more serious.

“Greetings, I am Dr. Castor Creed.”

Now that was too stiff.

“Hi! My name is…is…” Creed 01 trailed off, staring at the face reflected back at them in the tiny mirror they’d been provided in their room. “…I don’t know…I don’t know my name….”

The defeated whisper fell from their lips as their head dropped in shame, tears swimming in their eyes.

It wasn’t a new feeling, they’d been unable to identify with the name that was apparently theirs since they had first heard it, and the sound of it was always accompanied by a keen sense of loss they could never explain. Claiming that name had never been an option from the very start, as even the idea of doing so left a bitter taste in their mouth.

Perhaps they would have been able to accept the name with greater ease if everything else felt correct, but even their body felt foreign to them. They were surprised every time they looked down at their hands, like something they could never name was decidedly wrong with them. It was the same with their reflection. There was always an utter lack of recognition, as if they were looking at someone else through a window.

Turning away from the mirror, Creed01 went to sit on the edge of their bed, picking up one of the books they had been given to read, though it was really more of a bound informational book on L.E.I.D.A., its staff, and its mission. They opened to a page they had bookmarked and staring at the picture on the left page. It was of Castor, a photo taken of him working in his lab, leaning on the table. His brow was furrowed as if thinking, but there was the ghost of a smile on his lips. His head was tilted to the side, as if listening to someone through the earpiece in his right ear. They had stared at this one for hours, committing him to memory. Finding commonalities and differences.

They had the same curly black hair. Their facial features were identical in their structure, showing strong Terran Japanese heritage, as was their build and their skin color. They had mimicked the photo’s expression of concentration in the mirror before and discovered that was the same as well. And they had the same small dimples that appeared when they smiled.

But there were differences as well, some subtle, some striking.

Creed 01 looked back to the mirror. They seemed to put on weight more readily than Castor did. Maybe it was the lack of physical activity in the cell or maybe they were somehow more predisposed to it, but the naturally sharper lines of their face were softened by their healthier weight.

Then of course there were their eyes, which were fast becoming the most obvious difference. Creed 01 studied the slowly spreading centralized heterochromia. Their eyes had started the same warm, reddish brown that ringed the irises, but soon the brown was disrupted by a vibrant green that haloed their pupils. At this rate it was promising to become the dominant eye color, something they had overheard Dr. Tyne venting his frustration about to one of the other cloning specialists. That, apparently, was not normal, even for flash clones.

“Why didn’t I come back right…?” They whispered, touching Castor’s image with a fingertip. “Why didn’t you come back? You would know what to do…you wouldn’t disappoint people…you wouldn’t upset people…you’d be back…I’d be you…we’d be happy…”

They fell back onto the bed, holding the book up over their head to continue looking at the picture.

“I just…wish I knew what was expected of me…if I knew that it would be easier…I could have a place to start from…but no one’s told me anything. I’m supposed to just know how to be you…and I…I don’t even know you. What’s your favorite color? Why did you join L.E.I.D.A.? Who were your friends? Why’d you choose to wear those dorky glasses?”

They smiled a bit but it quickly faded as silence stretched out in answer to their questions. Their heart ached.

“It’s not fair…” They whispered. “I shouldn’t have to figure this out myself…I want help.”

Castor’s image offered no response and Creed 01 held the picture closer, whispering conspiratorially.

“Look, you don’t even have to come back for good if you don’t want to…just…just enough so I can remember…so I can live like you…I can do that, I promise. Just tell me how to be you…so the tests can stop…”

Their voice caught in their throat. “Please, I’m so tired…I just want to leave this room…I want someone who understands the pressure I’m under…I want…I want to know you…please…please it can’t just be me…I can’t do this by myself…I’m scared…Why did you leave me alone…?”

Silence.

There was only. Ever. Silence.

Silence from the people they tried talking to about Castor. Silence from the pictures. Silence from Tyne. Silence from the depths of their own short, blank memory.

It wasn’t fair.

“Why’d you do this?” They asked, their grip tightening on the book. “Why didn’t you come back? Were you scared? Is there something you ran from? I bet you knew how horrible it would be to come back and didn’t want to deal with it! I bet you couldn’t take it! I bet you have stuff you did that’s going to come back to bite me!”

The picture provided no further answers, and Creed 01’s patience snapped. Sitting up, they slammed the book down onto the bed in frustration.

“Why?! Why am I not enough? I know I’m not you but I have your mind! Isn’t that what matters? I’m here and you aren’t! What makes us that different really? Why won’t anyone tell me that? What makes you so goddamn special?!”

The smile in the picture looked smug now, as if Castor were pleased with the approval and sense of belonging that his clone would never obtain. Infuriated, Creed 01 grabbed the page and pulled, tearing it from the book.

“I’m the one who made it! I’m the one here! I’m the one picking up the pieces of your life and shouldering all your expectations! And you…you left no instructions! No plan B if the cloning process went wrong! Not even a fucking will! Nothing! So guess what?”

They crushed the page in their trembling fist.

“I’m done trying to remember. I’m done trying to be you. I don’t know who the fuck I am, but I will never be you, Castor Creed!”

They crumpled the page into a ball and hurled it across the room as they shouted their defiant declaration. It bounced off the wall and rolled part of the way back towards them before coming to a halt in the center of the room.

Creed 01 stared at it before letting their gaze drift up to the mirror, which reflected back the face that was not theirs, tears streaming down the cheeks. That was not their face, but every change that surfaced made it so it wasn’t Castor’s either. Perhaps one day, given enough time and enough change, they’d be able to claim it as their own.

They took a deep breath and tried to look brave.

“My name is Creed 01…and that’s good enough for now…”

[kingsbride-moved]

Could I please ask 10 and 13 from the selfship asks to make you think? For both Theseus and Asterius, if that's alright!

Having to post this from my phone because this goddamn website hates if I try to make a long text post on desktop so I apologize if it formats weirdly 💔

Anyways! Answered 10 for Asterius already, so this will be for Theseus ^.^

Whats your favorite physical feature of your F/O? What about your favorite aspect of their personality?

His nose </3 I love that its hooked. I also adore his eyebrows and that they're huge And darker than his hair (it's actually a pet peeve of mine when people draw him with blonde eyebrows 💔) And his chin dimple is really cute as well :~)

For his personality... well! To be #Frank all my favourite aspects of Theseus' personality are his negative ones 💕 like I love the positive ones too but I just love that he sucks so bad. But something i find very very cute is that he's super oversensitive and cries easily :~) Zagreus insults him Mildly and his voice is cracking and he sounds like he's holding back tears. I like to think he has a tendency to cry so hard he passes out at times 💞 there's something wrong with him

Whats you and your F/Os morning routine? What about bedtime routine?

I've thought about this in depth </3 sorry this is gonna be Long 😭

Mornings:

Theseus has a butterfly ball themed alarm clock. It's very annoying! Asterius tends to smash it to pieces every morning which also means Theseus has to get a new one every night but it's fine.

They brush their teeth. Asterius is usually still half asleep at this time. Dia usually comes in and joins around then, because she hates getting out of bed.

Theseus also plucks out the hairs that grow between his eye brows once his teeth are cleaned </3

They sit down for breakfast. Usually its pancakes made with fresh honey from Theseus' own garden (Dia and Asterius are usually the ones to gather it, though, because Theseus actually has a huge phobia about insects). According to Pliny the Elder, Athenian honey is the best because it's made with thyme <3

Theseus sits down to do Asterius' hair, sometimes Dia helps but usually she crawls back into bed during this time. </3 once Asterius' hair is done, Theseus does his own (or Dia brushes it for him if she's awake enough) and after that they get dressed for the day... unless the champions already know they'll have to battle Zag later (or some other shade), they actually dress in more simple garbs for lazy days. Theseus likes to help Asterius and Dia get dressed even tho neither of them actually need it

Asteriur puts in his nose ring, Theseus paints his horns or otherwise decorates them with jewelry, Dia puts in her earrings and puts on her necklaces... then it's time to head out!

Nights:

They usually decide what to eat for dinner earlier on in the day, or else they'll all be arguing about it when it's actually time to </3 seafood dishes are common (Theseus and Dianthus both prefer fish just in general........... but they also feel really, really weird about the idea of eating beef around Asterius for obvious reasons. Asterius himself doesn't actually care all that much, but it doesn't stop them from disliking the idea of it). Dia cooks because she's the only one who knows how to, but Theseus and Asterius help out with prep and cleaning.

Theseus' extravagant Fit-For-A-Champion home has a pretty massive bath house, so when he wants to wind down he immediately heads in there. Asterius will join him, and Dia will as well, though she's not very into long baths in the same way Theseus is, so at some point she'll just sit on the edge of the thing and talk to them :~)

Theseus um. He likes Oils. You know those stories about fancy nobles who would dip their fingers in rose oil he's that kind of guy. Says it keeps his skin glowing! Asterius doesn't like how the stuff makes his fur feel, though, and Dia just finds it kind of silly, so they usually just sit on Theseus' big couch together while waiting for Theseu to finish up, and Dia will braid Asterius' hair down so its moisture stays locked (a minotaur, after all, cannot wear a bonnet </3). When Theseus is finished up he comes and gets a little pouty (half playful, half serious) that Dia finished up Asterius' hair without him.

Theseus is usually the first to fell asleep 😭 he has a Lot of energy, of course, but he also does lot of stuff!! And so when he's tired he's conked out. Asterius doesn't mind carrying him to bed tho :~) if he's sleepy hell get under the blankets too, but sometimes he'll stay up and talk to Dia (Dia is the last to fall asleep). Dia is the one who sets up the new alarm clock too (though of course. it's just gonna get smashed to pieces come morning </3)

Also as a bonus funfact. Theseus will sleep spooning Asterius but in the morning they're like in complete scattered disarray. Theseus completely fallen off the bed. It's a mess

Also a bonus bonus funfact. I like to think Elysian heroes can just summon their weapons to their side any time they wish.......... so Asterius smashes the alarm clck by summoning his axe and just dropping it on top of the thing. Has created a very interesting depression in the little bedside drawn they have.

[singsweetmelodies]

6, 20, 29, 55, 70 & 77 please my love 😘

hiiiii my love 😘💖 thank you for asking! and that GIF 🥺 you know me by heart, as it were! just look at their little SMILES, ahhhh, you are going to make me start the morning already in my piarles feels 🥺😍 but what a great way to start a morning, honestly: piarles and writing. perfection, if you ask me! 👌 <333

6. What’s the last line you wrote?

i see you, boo 😆 i see you. but unfortunately for you, the very last line i wrote was actually just one word, lmaoooo.

"Anything."

i feel like that's a bit, uh... well it could mean ANYTHING, couldn't it? (😆😆😆 sorry couldn't resist that one.) ahem, yeah, but because you gave me such a gorgeous piarles gif this morning, i'm feeling in a nice mood. so i will give you a little bit more context on the "anything." 😘

"If it's for you, my love," Charles says, his voice as warm as the gentle morning sunlight that bathes them both in gold. "Anything."

🥺

20. Do you prefer writing AUs or canon fics?

TOUGH one. currently i've only got canon or canon-adjacent fics published, but a whole lot of my wips are for total au situations. so can i be a true bisexual here and say... both? both is good 👌

29. What’s something about your writing that you’re proud of?

oooohhhh, um, hmm. quite the self-confidence question for so early in the morning 🙈 but, hmm... banter, i think. i make myself laugh a lot with some of the back-and-forths i've written, and there's something just so nice with looking at a line and feeling like "THIS. this is exactly what that character would say in this situation 👌" also, in all honesty? characterisation. i put a lot of thought into the way i write a character - the way their "voice" sounds, how they would react to certain things, what is and isn't realistic for them to say or do - and i think it shows in my writing, too. and yep, i think that's definitely something i'm really proud of. ❤️

55. Have you noticed any patterns in your fics?  Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

ohhh, this is a brilliant question! not the easiest to answer with only four published fics, but if i can cheat a little and look into my wips too... HMMMM. 🤔 well the first thing i notice is that they're all piarles 😆 so they all have that in common! haha, no, but to answer this question a bit more seriously... i like the description "dimples pressing deep dents into his cheeks" quite a lot, and i've used it a fair few times. also "eyes crinkled with laughter-lines." OHHH, and another thing i love to do is to show how well characters know each other by having them recognise each other's tones of voice or expression - for example, "that's Charles' bad idea look."

as for themes and common settings... well, does post-race hurt/comfort count? 💀 i think that's more ferrari's fault than a real pattern in my writing, though. jumping into WIPs as well - oh, yeah, i do have one. idiots in love. IDIOTS IN LOVE. oh my god this features way too much in my ideas doc, bahahaha - a quick word search in my ideas doc informs me that i have used it 27 times. "they're in love but they're idiots about it so they don't know it's mutual" etc etc. and you know what? yep, i'll happily take that as a pattern in my writing 👌 i am ALL here for idiots in love, honestly.

70. Are you subscribed to any writers on AO3?

hell yes i am! getting an email when one of my favourite writers posts always makes me 😍 :D very very much - like a little burst of "yay!" to take me by surprise every now and then. for f1, i believe i am currently subscribed to... you 😘 and most of the pss people, then also akirakurosawa, quietrumblings (whisperedwords) and illegalferrari.

77. Why do you enjoy writing fanfiction?

ah, the golden question then! why do i enjoy writing 🤔 i've always loved reading - it's an escape, of sorts, for when life gets a wee bit shitty, or when you just want to pretend to be somewhere else for a little while. also, fanfic makes me FEEL things about them blorbos i love: good things, mostly, which makes grey old life that little bit more fun and bearable. and writing is, at least for me, a natural extension of that. if i can't find the exact thing i'm wanting to read, i usually make a note of it and try and write it myself. it has the same effect as the reading, i think: a brief escape from reality. and it's also a place where i can control everything that happens, you know? one can't always in reality. but in your fanfiction, you are god. you can make them as happy or as sad as you want, and in turn process whatever emotions YOU need. it's the best, honestly.

huh, and that answer got a bit more eloquent than i was expecting for this early in the morning! but good on ❤️ i love fanfiction and i always will.

thank you so much for your questions, my love! you picked all the best ones, as always, and i had an absolute BLAST answering them ❤️😘 love you!!

fanfic q&a

[casspurrjoybell-24]

My Unwanted Mate - Chapter 1 - Part 3

*Warning Adult Content*

Calvin Frey

Stomping into the house, my shoulders tensed as I became determined.

This was the right thing to do.

Why would I want a Mate?

A complete stranger who felt they had a claim to me.

It was nothing but ancient wolf shit, I wanted no part in.

The scent led me to the kitchen.

For a moment, I almost wondered if it was actually food I was smelling.

Whatever it was, I wanted a taste.

My brother was there with Mom who was feeding Benjamin a cupcake.

My pup had chocolate frosting all around his mouth and on the tip of his little nose.

As cute as he was, my attention was pulled away to a small blond with his back towards me.

He had his elbows resting on the counter, his back arched and his ass... my eyes quickly lifted when he turned around to face me.

He had the clearest blue eyes I'd ever seen, all the more vibrant against his sun kissed skin.

He glowed like he owned a piece of the sun.

"Oh, aren't you a looker," he said sweetly, his voice holding a deep southern drawl, that wasn't common around here.

I swallowed thickly, surrounded by that smell of peaches.

I could only stare, as he walked closer to me.

"My Momma named me Nathan but you can call me Nate," he said, batting his golden lashes up at me, before flicking a blond curl out of his face.

He was short, his shoulders broad and from the look of it, toned.

Not burly like me but definitely not the typical Omega.

The purple shirt he wore was tight, exposing a strip of tan skin over his jeans that hung low off his hips.

My mouth was dry.

The kitchen door swung open and the smell of peaches only grew stronger.

"Did you get lost, Darling?" the little wolf in front of me asked, whoever had just entered.

I spun around to meet an identical face.

They looked exactly the same.

The same full pink lips, bright blue eyes, dimples.

The only difference was that this one wore a pink shirt and he looked up at me, with wide eyes.

"Look at what found me," the twin in purple said, groping my arm.

"Oh. So strong."

My ears burned as I looked between the two.

This was more than I'd ever imagined.

I had planned on rejecting any Mate the Moon Goddess threw at me.

I thought there would only be one.

Not two very identical twins.

"Hello. I'm Tatum," the twin in pink said softly, with the same southern accent.

His cheeks tinted pink and he looked up at me bashfully.

*********

The twins talked, a lot.

Back and forth they went, completing each other's sentences or not finishing a sentence at all but still understanding each other perfectly.

It was like they had their own language.

"He's so tall," one gushed.

"And strong," the other grabbed at my arm again, inspiring the other to do the same.

Before I knew it, I had two pairs of small hands feeling me up as they looked up at me with their big sparkling eyes.

I couldn't pull away or tell them to stop.

Instead, I stood frozen in place as they batted their pale eyelashes and gave me dimpled smiles.

It wasn't until something bumped into my legs that I stepped back and looked down at my pup.

He wore a frown on his chocolate covered face as he hugged my leg.

"My Papa," Benjamin declared with a pout.

The twins looked between Benjamin and I, their eyes wide.

It was the one in pink that smiled.

Tatum, I think he'd said.

My memory was a little cloudy.

Especially with how distracted I was by their strong scent.

It was strange, how their scent was the same.

It seemed nothing about them was different.

Tatum knelt down so he was level with my pup.

"You had a pup with someone else?" the twin in purple screeched, his face growing as red as a tomato.

"You... you," he huffed and puffed, seeming unable to get any words out.

It would have been comical in any other situation.

Or if he wasn't glaring up at me.

Benjamin's soft giggle stole his attention though and he looked down to where his twin had convinced my pup to let go of my leg.

Benjamin was bouncing excitedly, his smile back in place.

Nathan's face softened and he knelt down beside his twin, introducing himself to Benjamin.

I looked over to Torin and Mom for help but mom was too occupied smiling at them and Torin was pouting, watching them closely.

"Look at who I found," Robby came in loudly, his younger brother tucked under his arm.

Jasper looked uncomfortable, trying to pull away.

"Bean," our cousin, Tommy made a quick dash for Torin, who hid behind Mom.

The kitchen soon became loud with activity and I quickly picked up Benjamin, hoping to sneak away.

If Tommy and Jasper were visiting, so was the rest of Mom's side of the family.

I got along fine with them but this wasn't a good time.

"Calvin," Grandpa Beau boomed, the huge male stomping in behind Dad who looked tense.

Grandpa patted Dad's shoulder roughly before bumping around him, to get to me.

The blond twins scampered to stand beside me, gawking up at the elderly redhead who appeared to have a bit of giants blood.

"How are you doing son?" Grandpa asked, ruffling Benjamin's dark hair.

My pup dropped his head on my shoulder, acting shy.

He only sees the extended family during every other holiday.

He is always hesitant in the beginning but opens up when they start smothering him with attention and new toys.

"Fine..." I trailed off, my brows furrowing.

There had to be a reason they were visiting.

Grandma came from behind Grandpa, attacking me with a tight hug that made Benjamin laugh.

"Who do we have here?" Grandpa Bo asked, looking down at the twins who had moved slightly behind me and were holding onto each other.

Tatum's cheeks tinted pink but Nathan smirked, his blue eyes shifting to me.

My ear burned and I quickly turned away from them, shrugging my shoulders before slipping past my grandparents as much as I could.

I was much to big to be quick about it though and ended up shuffling sideways until I was through the now crowded kitchen.

I knew I couldn't leave or else I'd have a pissed Torin to deal with.

When we were younger, it was so much easier brushing him off.

For one, he wouldn't complain about it.

Now he was quick to yell at me, plus I had Robby to deal with.

He was Torin's mate now, being my best friend came second to that.

[lizseyi]

Why Is Breast Self Examination So Important  -Gibmed International Hospital

How should you check your breasts for signs of cancer?

It is widely recognised that when those who may be at risk of breast cancer take the time to examine their breasts, this can help them to identify any potentially concerning changes, which they can then report to a medical professional.

If you are reading this article, you are likely to appreciate how crucial breast self-examination can be for detecting any possibly worrying symptoms at the earliest possible stage.

It is important not to panic if you do think you feel a lump in your breast, as some women do have some lumps or lumpy areas in their breasts, and the majority of breast lumps turn out to be benign (non-cancerous). Examples of non-cancerous conditions in the breasts, which account for the majority of women visiting a breast clinic, include (but are not limited to) breast cysts, cyclical nodularity (fibrocystic disease), and benign nipple discharge.

Nonetheless, with breast cancer being the most common malignant disease among women, it is important to be alert to any potentially abnormal changes in the breasts. If such changes do turn out to be cancer, detecting them as early as possible will maximise the likelihood of the condition being treatable with good results.

So, with all the above in mind, here are some good tips to follow to ensure you carry out a thorough and effective breast self-examination.

Get accustomed to how your breasts normally look

Before we go any further, we should probably revisit the way we have phrased the title of this article. There is no “should” when it comes to checking one’s own breasts, as there is no right or wrong way to do it. However, if there is one thing that you might be especially well-advised to be mindful of, it is the importance of being aware of how your breasts normally look and feel.

One way in which you might ensure this, is by regularly looking at your breasts in the mirror, with your shoulders straight and your arms on your hips. Indeed, it can be a good idea to begin by looking at yourself in the mirror with your arms down at your sides, and then with your arms up in the air.

Doing this routinely will enable you to maximise your awareness of such things as the normal size, shape, and colour of your breasts, and ensuring they are evenly shaped, with no visible swelling or distortion.

Feel around your breasts for signs of anything unusual

As we referenced above, positioning your body in different ways can aid your efforts to spot anything potentially abnormal about your breasts, and you can further help this process by not only looking, but feeling.

For this reason, many women check their breasts for lumps or anything else unusual from a lying-down position, as well as while standing or sitting. Women have often found that they can feel their breasts more easily when their skin is wet and slippery, so you might try doing your standing-up checks in the shower.

As for how you might do those checks, you may begin by feeling around each breast in a circular motion, before feeling under your arm, and then around the nipple.

Educate yourself on the symptoms that might require medical attention

Of course, even knowing the above processes well might be of limited use if you have little sense of what would constitute a potentially concerning symptom (other than the aforementioned lumps).

However, there are various breast changes that, if you notice them, would make it a good idea to reach out to a medical professional. These include any unexpected changes in the size, outline, or shape of your breast, as well as any rash, redness, puckering or dimpling on the skin of the breast.

A discharge of fluid from either of the nipples, any change in nipple position, and/or a new lump, swelling, thickening, or bumpy area in one breast or armpit that you do not recall coming across previously, could give you further reason to contact a medical expert as soon as possible.

Seeking help in this way will enable you to rule out breast cancer as a possible cause of the concerning symptoms – and if cancer is detected, it will allow for quick and suitable treatment to be provided.

To learn more about the breast screening in Gibraltar that we can provide here at GibMedInternational in support of your breast health, please don’t hesitate to contact us.

[magicshopaholic]

Industry Baby (Namjoon x OC)

Summary: In an unexpected turn of events involving your economics class and a magazine article, you find out just how talented your boyfriend is.

Pairing: Namjoon x OC

Genre: Smut, fluff

Word count: 8.6 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language, teasing, dirty talk, making out, breast play, blowjobs, restraints, mild dominance, edging, unprotected sex

A/N: Not me reading a Reddit thread about the best rappers in the Korean music industry and coming up with a whole fic by the time I get to the end of it :')

A huge huge thank you to @jeoniius for being a stellar beta as usual, reading the whole thing, giving me tips and telling me how hot it was at the end :') Couldn't have done it without you, Tannie <3

This is also part of my submission towards the Bangtan Bingo Spring Event by @bangtanwritingbingo, using my square "oral sex".

Listen to: "i wanna be yours" by arctic monkeys

namjoon masterlist | main masterlist

Click, click, click.

You don’t realise you’re clicking your pen until the person in front of you turns around to frown at you. You immediately stop and mouth an apology, sinking down further in your seat as your cheeks burn and you continue counting down the minutes until you get home.

Not just home, though. To your boyfriend. There’s a warmth that flows through you at the thought. For once, when you go back to your studio apartment, you won’t need to look forward to simply receiving texts from him or maybe catching him on the phone during a common free half hour. No, if everything goes well and you’re able to get out of here at a decent hour, Namjoon will be right there, in the flesh, tall frame and dimpled smile welcoming you.

“Diversification bias!”

You almost jump out of your seat as your professor barks a term at the class, quite possibly the reaction he was hoping for. You realise that you’ve missed the last ten minutes of the lecture entirely, most unlike you. You love what you do, what you study. You like this professor: a thin, lanky gentleman with kind eyes and thinning hair who speaks with an exasperation that suggests he’s seen war - or numerous batches of post graduate students, which is pretty much the same. You even like this particular topic - Practical Case Studies on Neuromarketing and Their Uses in the Modern World - which is why as a Ph.D student who doesn’t mandatorily need to be here, you’ve still shown up to an advanced post graduate class.

You’re surprised, therefore, at how distracted you’re getting. You glance down at the notebook before you, to see one and a half pages of written notes and feel slightly better; your boyfriend’s presence here doesn’t seem to have rid you of all your focus, at least. You don’t know why it should; it’s not like it’s the first time he’s visited you here in Amsterdam. It’s the first time he’s been here in months, it’s true, and for some reason you’ve missed him more than ever while he’s been working on promotions for his new album. Soon, he and his band will be on tour and you’ll be lucky if you can get even a minute of his time in between your classes, his concerts and the multiple timezones.

“That’s correct!”

Fuck. You’ve never been this low on concentration before. You sit up straighter in your seat as the professor nods approvingly at someone a couple of rows behind you, determined to focus for the rest of the lecture. You squint at the slides he’s presenting, sighing quietly in relief when you pick up the gist of what he’s talking about. The graphs are ones you’ve worked on yourself for your research and the insights are logical enough for you to catch up.

“Why would we be talking about Herd Behaviour in this context, though, hm?” The professor prowls about the dias in front of the class, peering at the forty twenty-somethings in the room. “Why -” He turns with a flourish to the other side of the class “- would the perception of a choice affect the decision of a consumer when those around them would perceive the choice to be something else?”

Everyone looks at him blankly for a few moments as they process this before the murmurs break out and the guesses start coming in. You don’t raise your hand; were you a student of this class, you would have. As a doctoral candidate, you and the professor both know it would be unfair for you to answer, even if you’re the same age as half the class.

“Exactly,” declares the professor when a girl in the front row makes an educated guess. “Can you think of a practical example where an industry not only employs this, but thrives on perception marketing to influence a consumer’s decision?”

Film, sports, music, pharmaceuticals… You sigh, suddenly remembering why you’d zoned out. Still, you wait patiently as the answers come in slowly from different students and the professor nods in approval.

“Quite right. All correct - except that, Janssen. Sports? Think again.” He claps his hands, making everyone jump again. “Let’s talk about a popular case study here, alright? This one’s for the kids.” The slide behind him changes and your heart stops. Right there, in the middle of your classroom, eight feet tall, is an image of your boyfriend.

You hear the lazy whoops and claps from corners of the class and the professor grins at the reaction, everyone suddenly a bit more awake at a pop culture case study.

“Does anyone know who this is?” The professor asks, almost jokingly, pointing at the picture on screen.

“BTS!” Several voices crow, the classroom erupting into laughter. They’re right, of course, for while your eyes had naturally gone straight to Namjoon, you now notice his six bandmates around him, all dressed similarly in suits, posing for the camera with perfect make-up and styled hair.

“And who knows who this is?” To your horror, the professor trains his pointer straight to Namjoon so the red dot hovers somewhere between his chest and his shoulder.

The voices are fewer this time but, if possible, louder. “Rap Monster!” a couple of people call, while some go “RM!” and one girl goes “Kim Namjoon!”, the loudest of all of them.

“So you all are capable of such energy in class. Imagine that,” quips the professor as everyone laughs, and the girl goes red in the face but continues smiling, eyes trained on the picture. “Well - yes, in answer. Rap Monster, RM, what have you. Leader of BTS. Can anyone tell me why he’s the leader of this world famous band? No, not you, Karina, we’ll have to wait for you to calm down…”

Your heart is still thudding, unable to reconcile the image of Namjoon, your Namjoon, here in your Economics classroom. As the answers pop up, you find yourself surprised at how many people know him and the detail in which they do. You’re not daft; you know BTS is world famous. Just because you had no idea who they were when you met Namjoon, aside from the band’s name in a vague sort of way, doesn’t mean other people in your campus aren’t aware of them. You’ve just never been faced with it this blatantly.

From behind you, you hear a guy speak in a low voice. “Mate, who’s the bloke with the blue hair and why is he looking into my soul?”

Another male voice answers. “Dunno. The only one I recognise is Rap Monster.”

From next to you, a girl whips around to look at them. “Wait, Bill, what the hell? You listen to k-pop?”

“Nah, not really,” the second voice, Bill, answers lazily. “But I know Rap Monster, though. Aoki posted a picture with him so I checked him out. He can rap, by the way.”

“He goes by RM now.” You don’t realise you’ve spoken until the girl next to you snaps her head down to look at you, blue eyes wide. “I think,” you add hastily.

“Are you army?” she practically squeals.

“I - uh, not exactly,” you stutter, already regretting saying anything. While Namjoon doesn’t get recognised too much in Europe, compared to back in Seoul at least, you want to limit any potential connection between you and him, especially while he’s here. He’s warned you before about getting photographed together, more for your safety than anything else, and you intend to defer to his judgment here at least. “My cousin’s a huge fan. She’s Korean,” you add, nodding when the girl sighs in understanding and you thank your stars for Jae-Lin, your favourite cousin and the perfect cover for your bouts of random BTS knowledge.

Somehow, like something out of a dream, the class progresses, proceeding to break down the entire economics behind the formation and positioning of one of fastest emerging bands in the world. The professor switches the slide and this time it’s thankfully not just a huge picture of the band but a couple of graphs, pie charts, article screenshots and pictures of about fifteen different bands in a messy collage of sorts. 

Some of them are k-pop - thanks to Jae-Lin, you recognise who you think is EXO and Got7, and whom you know is Blackpink. Apart from them, you recognise One Direction, NSYNC and some western girl group that looks incredibly familiar but you can’t place for the life of you. However, the picture of BTS, this time in baggy clothes and headbands as they glare into the camera, still remains bigger than the rest of the collage put together.

“Why -” The professor’s voice booms around the class even in the absence of a mic “- is the concept of a centre so important in the k-pop industry? What is the perception they’re working with, when -” He trains his pointer straight to Namjoon again “- the band was actually created around a different member altogether?”

For the first time this entire lecture, you’re paying full attention. The professor continues, with factual inputs from a few students here and there, to explain how Namjoon was the first member, former underground rapper, leader, producer and whatnot. “Where does the revenue for a label come from?” he asks dramatically. “Come on,” he prods, a bit impatiently, when no one answers for a few seconds, “how would a label make money?”

“Production.” It’s the only thing you’ve said in the class so far and you intend to keep it that way, even when the professor catches your eye and nods, looking slightly gratefully.

“That’s right!” He turns with a flourish to point the red dot at the western bands now. “Historically, usually, the labels are the producers. Why is k-pop different? Why is -” He turns towards the class this time “- BTS different? Take a wild guess as to who produces half their music!”

There’s a smattering of answers as people guess the answer to this rather leading question. Somehow - and you have no idea how - the class has turned into an RM worship session, and most surprisingly, a large number of people seem to be participating in it. You don’t speak again for the rest of the class, simply listening in awe at how much people seem to know about your boyfriend. 

In the eight odd months that you’ve been dating - and the few months preceding it where you both danced around the topic for longer than required - you’ve discovered his love for modern art, his favourite artists, how he likes his eggs in the morning, which t-shirts he likes to sleep in, the fact that he greatly prefers wine to beer, that he’d read the entire Iliad in English when he was sixteen years old, that his favourite mode of foreplay is to palm you over your underwear until you’re begging for his fingers. Somehow, amidst all this information, and the fact that he’s somewhat of a legend in the k-pop industry has escaped you.

Of course, sixteen year old Jae-Lin has done everything in her power since the day you’d met him to convince you of his greatness, but given the fact that she’s also called Jimin “a real life angel” and declared Taehyung her future husband, you’ve been forced to take everything she says with a rather large pinch of salt.

You’re shaken out of your reverie when there’s a collective gasp of acknowledgement from the class, usually reserved for when a professor presents the class with a logic that’s been staring them in the face this whole time. As seems to be the theme for today, you’ve missed the explanation, but you watch as the slide switches to the conclusion of this case with - you guessed it - a full screen picture of BTS, this time at some sort of interview where all the members are sitting on high revolving chairs.

Your eyes, predictably, go straight to Namjoon, who’s sitting in the middle with a mic in his hand and a small smile on his face. It’s incredible how much you miss him in that moment, even though you know you’ll see him in a couple of hours. As the professor takes doubts from the class, your gaze lingers on the t-shirt he’s wearing, how the thin material stretches across his shoulders and around his lean biceps. You’d left fingernail marks on those last night, you remember, biting your lip.

The summer heat suddenly feels stronger, and you reach for your bottle of water to cool down whatever it is you’re feeling. It’s pride, for sure, and a lot of surprise - but a pleasant kind of surprise. But there’s also something else, something that makes you feel just the tiniest bit uneasy, only because its elusivity makes your reaction completely unpredictable. Just a few more hours, you think as you take a sip. Next to you, the girl leans over.

“Which one are you looking at?”

Your heart skips a beat. “Um… no one in particular.”

She rolls her eyes and gives you a knowing look, as though letting you know your secret is safe with her. “Let me guess. It’s Jungkook, isn’t it?”

You almost choke on your water. “Oh, God, no,” you mutter, automatically thinking back to the first time you’d ever met the kid, his shocked and reddening face, inopportune timing, and the cold showers you and Namjoon had had to take after that. Realising how that must sound, though, you immediately backtrack. “I mean, he’s - he’s sweet, but… I was looking at… at Jimin, actually. I like his jacket,” you add lamely, for the first time noting the colourful and sparkly cardigan he has on.

She seems to accept your answer as the professor dismisses the class, thanking them for their unexpected participation. As you stand up and begin gathering your things, it takes you a moment to realise that while the case study might be over, the topic of BTS certainly isn’t.

“... documentary on how Eminem rose to fame,” Bill, one of the guys behind you, says as he zips up his bag. “Dre said it, too, that the best rappers have flow, beats and wordplay. RM has all of those. At least in k-pop, he’s one of the best,” he declares.

“The rest of them are really good, too,” the girl next to you pipes up, letting her blond hair out of its ponytail. “Suga and J-Hope. Best rap line in k-pop,” she corrects Bill.

“Wait, hang on, Ana,” says the guy next to Bill, turning to his friend. “What d’you mean wordplay? You don’t even speak Korean!”

They continue bickering, the two guys and Ana trailing behind them next to you. As the class exits, a few more people join them and it doesn’t take you long to realise that it’s everyone in the class who has any kind of opinion on k-pop. It’s incredibly strange; your heart skips a beat every time you hear anyone refer to Namjoon, especially when they’re giving him a compliment, but everything after that feels like brand new information. You hover around the same group as everyone mills outside before going their separate ways. There aren’t too many post graduate students you’re familiar with apart from the ones you studied with last year, but suddenly you’re glad you chose to attend this lecture.

BTS RM Tops Spotify Charts with Mixtape in Twenty-Four Hours… You scroll through the article on your laptop an hour later, feet up on your coffee table and a glass of red wine next to you. They’ve used a recent picture of Namjoon, dyed blond hair and winning smile taking up your whole screen before the article begins. You remember when the mixtape came out; you’d been together for three months at the most, and all he’d said about it was that it was different from the stuff BTS usually put out so he wasn’t sure if fans would like it. 

You knew it had done well, though; Namjoon’s relief and happiness hadn’t been a secret but it had coincided with you getting your research methodology approved and his reaction when you’d told him had been to “celebrate both wins together”. Now, you can’t quite believe he’d thought they were the same thing.

You continue going through headlines with a little trepidation. Even after Jae-Lin had revealed that the guy you’d bumped into and flirted with over a year ago was the leader of BTS, you’d been hesitant to look him up online, part of you wanting to follow your instincts and research, but another part forcing you to restrain yourself because you honestly had no idea what you’d find. Once you’d met him and gone on a couple of dates, you’d been able to form your own opinion of him - which, by all standards, was a fantastic one, and you’d no longer needed to read anything else.

The front door opens and you immediately close the browser window, looking up to see Namjoon enter. He takes off his earphones the moment he sees you and smiles easily, dimples popping. “Hey, beautiful,” he murmurs, walking up to you and tilting his head to kiss you on the mouth. “Sorry I’m late,” he says, straightening up and taking off the baseball cap. He runs a hand through his hair and takes a seat next to you. “How was your day?”

“It was okay,” you reply, leaning into him a bit when he puts an arm around your shoulders. “Good lecture.”

“Yeah? What was it about?” He sounds genuinely interested, just like he had on your first date when you’d told him what you do. 

“Neuromarketing.” You bite your lip, not elaborating further. It’s suddenly odd to see him back here after everything you’ve seen and heard in your class today. You note how different he looks, too; every picture on the slides had him and the band looking flawless, in designer clothes and with smooth skin and perfect hair. But right now, in chinos and Chuck Taylors, with his hair slightly messy and face bare, he looks like a dream. 

He’s still frowning curiously, though, so you shake your head. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

“Okay.” Namjoon sighs and ruffles his hair again. “I’m going to take a shower. It was a hot day,” he adds, and you nod in agreement. “We’ll watch the documentary when I’m back?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Smiling and patting your bare leg affectionately, he kisses your cheek and stands up. “Oh, by the way,” he says, moving to hang the cap on the line of hooks you have on the wall next to your TV, currently occupied by your bag and a few stoles, “I passed by the gallery today while they were setting up for tomorrow’s exhibit. It looks like it’s going to be huge.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Do you think you'll be recognised? We can skip it if you want.”

“What? No,” he says immediately. “I know how hard it must have been to get these tickets - I definitely want to go.”

“Are you sure?”

“A hundred percent,” he confirms, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles before heading inside. He emerges fifteen minutes later, in a white t-shirt and black cotton shorts, drying his wet hair with a towel. The image makes something stir inside you and the warmth you feel coursing through you makes you wonder if the second glass of wine was a bad idea. You’d tried, while he was gone, to try and put your finger on why you were suddenly looking at him a bit differently, hoping that seeing him in the flesh might do the trick. But he seems more than ever like the same person you’ve known since June last year - except for that one thing.

“I just remembered, I have to send an email,” he mutters, going to his bag which he’d left under the row of hooks and retrieving a small, sleek laptop.

“Now?” you ask, keeping your own laptop aside and standing up before making your way over to him.

“Yeah, it needs to get to the management before they wake up in the morning, which is…” He checks his watch “... in about an hour.” He props the laptop open on your small dining table and begins typing away on the Korean keyboard, still standing. 

You stop right behind him and place your hands lightly on his hip bones, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. He smells of your shower gel but there’s an additional scent there, something you only get to experience when he’s around and miss like hell when he isn’t.

Namjoon lets out a content sigh and pauses typing when he feels your touch. “I’m sorry, baby,” he says softly, “but this will just take a minute, I promise.”

“It’s okay, take your time,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his waist when he resumes typing. Your nose is at level with the top of his shoulder; you rest your forehead against it and inhale, content to just be with him, his large and comforting frame back in your life and in your apartment.

“Babe?” You tighten your arms around him slightly and wait for him to murmur in acknowledgement. “Who’s Runch Randa?”

The typing stops abruptly. “What?”

You lift your head to rest your chin against his shoulder blade so he can hear you more clearly. “Runch Randa?” you repeat.

“Where, uh, where did you hear that name?”

“In my Economics class today.”

“You heard Runch Randa in your Economics class?”

“M-hm,” you nod, mostly telling the truth. The girl sitting next to you - Anabelle, you'd discovered later - had mentioned the name to the group in a deliberate attempt to be nonchalant and looked extremely proud when no one else seemed to recognise it, before she finally explained it on her own. “Apparently, he’s a pretty big deal.”

“Kaya?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re going to have to explain, babe, just a little bit.”

You snicker against his shoulder. “You were a case study in my class today. Or, BTS was,” you amend.

“Seriously?” Namjoon turns around slightly. “Wow. Why?”

“It was actually a pretty good example of perception marketing,” you allow, “and it included other k-pop acts, too. But,” you add, coming back to the point, “apparently you’re, like… a really huge deal. Top of the industry and stuff?”

“Oh, that’s… that’s not true.”

“Really?”

“M-hm.”

“So BTS isn’t platinum in, like, forty countries with the highest album sales of any k-pop group ever?”

He pauses. “I mean… okay, yeah, but -”

“And you aren’t the leader of the group? And apparently the best rapper in the industry, neck and neck with Zico?”

Namjoon pauses, turning around a bit more. “Someone said I’m as good as Zico?” he asks, eyes wide. “Wait - how do you know who Zico is?”

You haven’t the faintest idea who Zico is, but it was one of the two names being thrown around while the group from your class debated on who the best rapper in the Korean industry was. But this isn’t about your k-pop knowledge - or lack thereof. “And your mixtape didn’t top Spotify charts in, like, a day?”

There’s silence for a moment before Namjoon sighs and turns around fully, and you drop your arms from around him. “Where did you hear that?”

“I read it online, like a normal person. Although a normal person would probably hear about it from her boyfriend, considering it was his album,” you tell him, unable to keep a note of annoyance out of your voice.

He leans back against the table and frowns slightly. “Are you mad?”

You sigh heavily, reaching out to tug at the bottom of his t-shirt. “No, of course not. I just… it’s a really huge deal. And even the other stuff…” You bite your lip, trying to get to the bottom of it. “You don’t talk about your work a lot,” you finish eventually.

He shrugs, eyes softening. “Yeah, because I don’t get to see you that often,” he says, pulling you closer by the waist. “Why would I want to talk about work when I do get to see you?”

“I’m not saying you need to talk about it all the time, but I want to know,” you say in a small voice. “The good stuff and the bad. I tell you everything about my work,” you point out.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow. “You tell me everything?”

“Pretty much. Minus the boring stuff.”

“You didn’t tell me you walk back home alone from campus after midnight. I found that out when I got here and saw it for myself.” You don’t miss the disapproving note in his tone, so you give him a look until he sighs again. “Look, I know you weren’t really into k-pop before we met. I don’t want to force it on you.”

“You weren’t into behavioural economics research when we met either, but I still tell you all about it.” When he doesn’t answer, you drop your gaze. “Congratulations. On the Spotify thing.” You feel yourself getting pulled closer to him and his arms encircling your waist.

“Thank you,” he mutters, pressing his lips to the side of your neck before coming back up to your lips and kissing you. You automatically kiss him back, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck as you melt into him, like you always do. His mouth opens against yours and you sigh softly, having thought about nothing but this all day. 

Namjoon slides one hand slightly lower down the curve of your hip. “Sexy t-shirt,” he murmurs against your mouth.

You smile into the kiss. “It should be. It’s yours.”

He lowers his hand even further so it skims the hem of the t-shirt and lifts it up, making a low sound of approval. “Damn, I thought you were wearing shorts under this.”

“M-m, it’s too hot for shorts,” you reply, feeling the familiar warmth between your legs and nipping at his lip. “Is that a problem?”

He chuckles, low and deep. “Not at all.” He squeezes your arse and the heat increases. “It’s encouraged, in fact.”

You know if you keep going, you’re bound to forget everything you were talking about before this so you pull away regretfully and push him back slightly, ignoring his quiet groan. “Okay, no, but back to you and how you’re some kind of legend in the industry.”

Namjoon groans, an embarrassed hint of a smile on his face. “I’m not. Really. There’s seven of us who’ve made all that happen.”

“No, I know,” you say immediately, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “I’m not trying to take anything away from them, but… okay, aren’t you the leader? The first member of the group? Had the opportunity to go solo but didn’t take it? Underground rapper with a name and a brand already?”

His smile widens and the dimple appears, even as he drops his face into his hand before looking back at you. “Okay, yes, all that is… technically true. But it sounds a lot fancier than it is.”

“Ugh, you’re so sexy when you’re being modest,” you groan teasingly, your stomach flipping when he laughs as you push him back by the chest until he’s sitting in your recliner. It’s your most expensive purchase, one you’d made after you’d finished a gruelling research job for one of the university’s faculty members, and you’d sprung for a good version, with a soft leather lining and the cup holders on either arm. 

Namjoon sits back without protest, the top of his head just an inch above the back of the chair. You straddle him, finally having his full attention. His expression is somewhere between exasperated and indulgent and you have to ignore the jolt in your heart as his hands come up to rest comfortably on your hips. “Alright, what’s going on?”

“Nothing is going on.” You aren’t sure how to put this into words and it frustrates you. You’re normally quite articulate, especially when it comes to self-awareness, but this time you just can’t identify it. You hold his gaze; despite sitting on his lap, his height ensures that you’re still at eye level with each other. “I just want to know what’s going on with my brilliant boyfriend, that’s all.”

“Your brilliant boyfriend needs to finish writing an email,” he says, matter-of-fact.

You deflate. “Fine, I can take a hint,” you mutter, moving to get off but immediately feeling yourself being pulled back.

“No, come here, I’m sorry,” he says, smiling and sounding apologetic. “I’m… I’m just not very good at taking compliments.”

“Even from me?”

“Especially from you. My brilliant Ph.D girlfriend,” he adds, pulling you even closer and kissing you on the cheek.

“I’m not a Ph.D yet,” you remind him, your cheeks warm. You shift your gaze, suddenly feeling shy. You finger a strand of his hair; it was initially a warm, golden blond but with his natural brown seeping in, it’s a dark, caramel colour, longer than it had been when you first met. “It felt nice,” you say finally, “to hear all that stuff about you. Of course, a little weird because a room full of strangers knew more about you than I did…” You lower your hand and your eyes. “But I felt proud and…” You trail off.

“And?”

You shrug and shake your head. “Nothing. Just proud.”

"Thank you," he says after a moment, and his voice sounds deeper. When you simply nod and look up, he frowns slightly. "What?"

"... What?"

"Kaya." His voice is deep and soothing, like warm honey, and he looks more curious than anything else, tilting his head. "What is it?"

You straighten your face, wondering what exactly it is that he's seeing on it. "Nothing," you repeat, mostly because you don't know either. His torso, large and lean, is inches away from yours. You feel your toes curl of their own accord when you notice how his gaze continually falls and lingers on you.

Namjoon doesn't say anything else. He’s seen this look before - he just can’t place it exactly. You’re playing with the ends of your hair, falling dark and wavy down your shoulders and stopping just above your breasts. The leaf green t-shirt looks like spring against your olive skin and, without thinking, he brushes a strand of hair off your neck. As you shift slightly in his lap, he feels the elastic of your underwear against his thumb and immediately wonders if you’re wearing black - and he feels himself stir at the thought.

He can’t tell if you’ve felt it. It suddenly occurs to him where he’s seen this look and at the same moment, something seems to click in your mind. Leaning forward, you tilt your head slightly and kiss him. 

He seems surprised for a fraction of a second but responds passionately, sliding his hands slowly up your back as you bring your hand to rest behind his head, fingers running through his hair. All intellectual brilliance aside, Kim Namjoon is the best goddamn kisser you’ve ever come across in your life. You open your mouth against his, sighing when you feel his tongue press sensually against yours and pull at his hair slightly, and this time you definitely feel him stir under you.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he murmurs, moving down to trail kisses down your jaw and to your neck as his hands disappear under your t-shirt. His large hands envelope almost your entire torso, warm and familiar on your skin before reaching your breasts, pushing them up and squeezing them. Your soft groan makes him twitch and he feels for your nipple, moving the hem of your bra aside and running his thumb over it.

“Oh, god…” You moan even louder, rolling your hips into his. “Shit, you’re really good at everything, aren’t you?” His low snicker against your neck makes your abdomen clench, and you feel him squeeze your breasts again. “World famous music producer and everything?”

Aside from the conversation you were just having, you’ve just referred to an inside joke, possibly the oldest one you both have. His chest flutters at the memory of your face looking up at him in the sunshine, juxtaposed with the reality of you on his lap right now, expression full of desire. “You know I am, baby,” he murmurs, snaking a hand down to your arse and pulling you closer. “A pretty damn good music producer…”

Your eyes snap open as he begins sucking softly at the spot above your collarbone. There it is, you think, except you don’t yet know what it is but you can tell it’s right in front of you, dangling just within reach. You run your hand through his hair again, your fingernails scraping against his scalp. He groans softly against your skin and your heart starts beating faster.

“Tell me you’re the best rapper the industry’s ever seen,” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut as he squeezes your breasts again. He chuckles again, soft and low, but you’re done with jokes. Pulling away slightly, you push him backwards by the shoulder and kiss him, ignoring his momentary surprise. By the time you separate, he’s panting, his eyes narrow and heavily lidded. You suddenly realise how you’ve both shifted, and you’re finally able to look down at him. “Tell me,” you repeat softly.

Namjoon bites his lower lip, as though just realising he’s looking up at you, too. “I’m the best fucking rapper the industry’s ever seen,” he says quietly. Your heart jolts and you feel a warm wetness between your legs as you reach forward and your mouths meet again, messier and wetter than before. Even his grip is stronger now, holding your pelvis to his as he slides one hand beyond the hem of your underwear and squeezes the flesh.

“Joon,” you murmur, pulling away, breathless, and holding his gaze. “I want to tie you up.”

His eyes flicker for a moment, running over your dishevelled hair, swollen lips and glowing skin. Then, he nods. “Okay.”

Your heart thuds and for a moment you don’t move. You think you know what this is about, but you don’t want to overthink it. Clambering off his lap, you walk towards the row of hooks and grab the two thinnest stoles you can find before sauntering back over to Namjoon. His eyes don’t leave you and as you near him, he places his arms on the armrests of the chair, his erection now fully visible. 

“Sure you’re okay with this?” you ask, pausing where you’re kneeling down, a dark blue stole ready to be used. When he nods again, the corner of his mouth curving upwards slightly almost like he’s looking forward to it, you smirk up at him. His heart jolts in his chest at the sight of your smile, his favourite thing in the world, and he sits back as you secure both his wrists to the cup holders of the chair before standing up again.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy,” he mutters, visibly checking you out and letting his gaze linger on where the t-shirt rides up to the tops of your thighs as you run your hands through your hair. You notice where his attention is and raise your hands even higher, allowing the black of your underwear to peek through and Namjoon lets out a choked sigh before looking back up at you.

You love it when he talks dirty - which is often. He knows he has the voice for it and he uses it all the time, telling you how gorgeous you look or what he wants to do to you. It usually works differently because while neither of you occupy the role of the dominant one, Namjoon usually leads, worshipping your body and driving you crazy in equal measure. This time, though… you straddle him again, slowly, taking your time because now, the best fucking rapper in the industry has all his attention on you.

Hesitating just so you can see his reaction, you lean forward and kiss him again, slower this time. You tease him, swiping your tongue across his lower lip and biting on it lightly until he groans into your mouth. His erection twitches again and you feel it more clearly this time. Still kissing him, you reach down between you and palm him through his shorts, feeling yourself get wetter when you realise how hard he is.

“Fuck,” he breathes, pulling away and resting his head on the back of the chair. “God, I want your mouth on me…”

“I know you do, baby,” you murmur, slowly letting him go and sitting back so you can lift his t-shirt. You watch his expression as you run your hands up his torso, loving how he’s forcing himself to meet your gaze. You make sure to graze your fingernails against his skin until you reach his pecs and lift the shirt up further. The way his breath hitches tells you that he knows what’s coming - something you’ve only done once before.

Shifting further back on his lap, you lower yourself so you can press your lips to his sternum. The scent of your lime shower gel that he's used hits you again and you move up further, feeling his chest tighten under your light touch. “Something wrong, baby?” you ask softly, trailing your mouth higher up. When you reach the spot below his nipple, you feel his erection strain against his shorts.

“Kaya,” he mutters, sounding like he’s gritting his teeth. “Come on, don’t tease me, baby...”

“You tease me all the time,” you remind him, unable to resist pointing that out. “Being a big deal in the music business can’t get you everything, baby.” Lifting his shirt up further, you reach out to lightly brush your tongue against his nipple.

“Fuck!”

You look up from your position to see his head thrown back as he bites down on his lip. You continue, more confident now that you’re getting the reaction you wanted. You lick his nipple again, this time grazing it lightly with your teeth when he groans again when you feel a warm wetness against your thigh. Reaching for his erection, you brush your thumb over his covered tip, confirming the pre cum that’s leaked out.

Straightening up, you reach for his face, bringing it down to look at you. “Fuck, you’re so hard for me, baby,” you murmur, only partly in wonder. Slipping a hand under the waistband of his shorts, you grip his length through his boxers, your own clit pulsing at the feel of it. Namjoon’s eyes flutter shut when he feels your touch and you kiss his jaw, making your way down to his neck and biting lightly on his earlobe. 

“How many artists said they wanted to work with you this year, hm?” you ask calmly, your lips touching the helix of this ear and your thumb brushing the tip of his cock. “When you were in the States last month?”

“Not -” He breaks off, biting his lip as you continue stroking him. You sit up to look at him properly, waiting for him to pay attention to you. “I…” He swallows, and you feel him pulsate in your hand. “Ten… maybe fifteen,” he says at last.

You nod, knowing you’re soaked through your underwear by now. “I’m so proud,” you tell him softly, lowering your head to kiss him again. He kisses you back hungrily and you run your free hand across his shoulders and down his chest, your stomach leaping at how tight and tense he is.

“I want you…” Namjoon whines, lips moving off yours and pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your jaw, “... please, babygirl.”

At the last word, you let him go and slide off of him, getting your first good look at how far you’ve been able to push him till now. Wrists tied, cock hard and expression both aroused and frustrated, you can finally reconcile what you’ve been feeling this whole time. RM, leader, rapper, producer and Big Hit’s main man is yours. 

Kneeling down between his spread knees, you hear him sigh and see his hands clench into fists on either side of your head, bound by a green and blue stole each. You snake one hand up his thigh, continuing even after it disappears into his shorts until you feel him again, big and hard. You palm him, trying to ignore how much you want him right now, how badly you want him to fill you up… Namjoon groans again, tilting his head back and closing his eyes.

“Kaya…” He sounds so incredible, his deep voice reverberating in your small apartment, his huge frame in your favourite chair, all the while at your mercy. 

"Yeah, babe?"

“Please…”

You retrieve your hand and reach forward to bring his shorts and boxers down together, freeing his cock, hard and already dripping pre cum. You need to bite your lip to keep from audibly moaning at the sight; it’s never ceased to amaze you just how well-endowed your boyfriend is, especially because he doesn’t act overconfident or super proud of it. 

Getting on all fours so you can crawl back between his legs, you sit back on your heels and look up at him, willing him to beg again. His pleading gaze is enough, though; when you reach out gently grasp him, he lets out a guttural groan and drops his head back against the chair. 

“God, you’re so hard, baby,” you repeat in a wondrous murmur, stroking him once. Next to you, his fists clench again and his hard length pulses in your hand. You brush his tip with your thumb so the pre cum leaks out, your core aching when he groans in pleasure. Standing up but retaining your hold on him, you gently bring his face to meet yours. You kiss him, softly. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

Namjoon’s eyes flutter open unevenly to look at you, the desire and desperation clear on his face. You feel a jerk, and when you see his gaze abruptly move to his hands, you realise it’s the first time he’s forgotten that he’s tied up. Licking his lips and swallowing, he meets your gaze again. “Suck me…” he sighs, closing his eyes and finally giving in. 

BTS’s RM essentially, you could say, was responsible for an entire quarter’s increase in revenue for the parent company - so why are we glossing over this rather important fact? The question that was posed to the class runs through your mind as you lower yourself, as does the response, wherein while everybody else struggled to put forward a few well-informed guesses, you’d felt a flutter in your stomach at the sheer power your boyfriend clearly held… except for now.

You stroke him a few more times, smoothly and consistently, using the pre cum to lubricate him well. Namjoon’s sighs tell you it’s working, so without making him wait any longer, you reach forward and take him in your mouth. The moment your lips touch his cock, he lets out a groan and you automatically grip him a little harder. Slowly, you take him in further until you establish a cadence, running your tongue along his length and swirling it around his head.

“Fuck, Kaya, you feel so good…” He groans, and you can tell he’s struggling to keep his hips from buckling. His deep voice, capable of making you feel so much even in a non-sexual setting, makes your heart race and your clit throb with desire. From your periphery, you see him look down at you. “You look so pretty with your mouth around my cock, fuck…”

You can’t help it; you moan at his words and hunch further over him, taking him in as deep as you can, feeling his tip touch the back of your throat. You lift your hips off your heels to get into a better position and feel his oversized t-shirt drop down your back. You don’t realise until you hear the chair creak and see his hands strain against the bonds that your underwear is visible and by his reaction, you were right about it being black.

“God, baby, I want to come in your mouth,” he murmurs, groaning loudly when you cup his balls with your other hand. “I don’t think I can - I think I’m going to -”

Just as he breaks off, you let him go with a pop and stand up, feeling close to the edge yourself when he groans in frustration. You don’t wait for him to glare at you or beg any further; you’ve teased him enough - and ironically, you’ve made yourself a hot mess for him, too. Brushing the rogue strands of hair off your face and wiping your mouth, you reach up under the t-shirt and tug your underwear down, stepping out of it and straddling him.

“Shit, yes…” The relief in Namjoon’s face is more than evident when you climb onto his lap. Kissing him, you raise your hips and slide down onto his cock, both of you moaning in unison. Pulling away from his mouth, you sigh in pleasure as you shift into position, feeling his length and girth inside you and feeling so full, so complete that you whisper his name without thinking.

He grunts in response, moving his hips so he hits your g-spot just right. “Fucking hell… Kaya, take off your t-shirt, baby.”

Instinctively, you’re about to listen before you stop and take a long, hard look at your boyfriend. He’s gritting his teeth, already on edge, his muscles tense and his eyes narrow and boring into you like he’s already undressed you mentally.

Can’t have that. Grabbing the back of his head, you roll your hips into his, not taking your eyes off him as he groans again. You kiss him, your tongues meeting immediately, both your moans being swallowed as you fuck him into the chair, your hands sliding up his t-shirt and feeling his taut chest. His shoulders tense further and you feel the chair move as he tugs on the restraints.

“Kaya…”

You shiver when you hear his voice, because he’s no longer pleading. His mouth moves to wherever it can reach, down your jaw and to the side of your neck before you manoeuvre him to look at you again.

“Tell me you’re it,” you murmur, using all your strength to keep your voice steady while he stays inside you, “tell me you’re the industry, baby.”

Namjoon meets your gaze, looking like he’s holding onto the last shred of resistance he has in him. Still not breaking eye contact, you reach down and take your shirt off, keeping just enough distance from him for him to screw his eyes shut in frustration and tug at the restraints again. “I’m the goddamn fucking industry,” he mutters, his gaze falling to your mouth.

You don’t keep him waiting any longer and roll your hips into his again, your breasts pressing against his chest as you kiss him roughly, pulling his hair and biting his lip to tell him everything - how proud you are of him, how much you love him, how ridiculously lucky you feel sometimes. He tugs at the bonds again and this time you feel the chair move.

“Fucking hell, Kaya, please let me touch you, baby!” Namjoon pulls away and blurts, sounding more frustrated than ever. He tugs at the restraints one more time but you don’t make him wait any longer, simply reaching back and untying both scarves one by one. His hands come up to you at lightning speed, flat on your skin, reaching everywhere. 

You frantically tug at the bottom of his t-shirt and unhook your bra as he takes it off, mouths meeting again in a fit of passion and desperation. You can feel every bit of his skin, as warm and clammy as yours, as he holds you to him as close as possible.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he mutters against your mouth, hands pushing your breasts together and squeezing them. He takes one of your nipples, rock hard between his fingers and twists it. You moan and pull away, fucking him faster now, your whimpers and his grunts in harmony. 

“Oh, God, Joon, I’m so close,” you gasp, clutching his shoulders. His hands snake down to your arse and he grabs the flesh, and you can feel his warm breath on your face, telling you he’s close as well.

“Mm, cum all over my cock, baby,” he murmurs tightly, pressing another kiss to your jaw. He squeezes your arse again before landing a light spank on your cheek - and you do exactly as he asked. You shudder in his arms as you feel wave after wave of your orgasm crash onto you. “Fuck, I love you so much,” you hear him say against your neck before grabbing your hips again and coaxing you to move.

Using him for support, you begin moving again, feeling his hips thrust upwards as well. “I’m almost there, babygirl,” he mutters, reaching up to kiss you again.

You kiss him back hungrily, feeling your wetness coat his cock further. “Come on, fill me up, baby,” you whine against his mouth, feeling his hips buckle upwards before he groans and drops his head backwards. You close your eyes as you feel the warm spurts inside you as he pants, his bare chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

You lean into him, dropping your head onto his shoulder, exhausted. Pressing a kiss to the slightly sweaty skin of his neck, you close your eyes again. “Love you, too,” you whisper, feeling his arms come around you as he softens inside you. This, arguably, is one of your favourite things about sex with Namjoon. While neither of you are too cuddly or tactile in general, the few moments after sex are so intimate and private that he holds you in silence anyway, gentle and protective no matter how urgent or rough the sex was.

“What was that?” His voice is quiet, fingers brushing your hair off your clammy shoulder.

You look up at him, head still resting on his chest. “What was what?” you ask innocently. When he gives you a look, a hint of a smile still on his face, you shrug and look down. It seems insane that after what just transpired, you might actually be too shy to meet his gaze. “Did you like it?”

Namjoon sighs thoughtfully, and you eventually do look up at him. “Well,” he says finally, “it was different. And I think you can tell if I liked it or not,” he admits, smile widening just a bit. “But I’d say if you like this chair, you probably shouldn’t do it again.”

“Okay. I won’t do it again in this chair.”

He chuckles and kisses the top of your head. “Where are you going?” he asks when you sit up a moment later, an underlying whine in his tone.

“I’m getting up.” You adjust yourself and both of you sigh softly as he slides out of you. Reaching for the tissue box on the side table, you clean yourselves up before you get off the chair and start pulling on your clothes. “What?” you ask, noticing how he hasn’t moved.

“I…” He sighs and smiles lazily, sitting back and watching you hook your bra. “Nothing. That was just…” He sighs again and you feel your cheeks heat up with the way he’s looking at you, but you keep your cool. “I’m not ready to be done yet,” he states, holding out a hand, presumably for you to take and climb back on his lap.

You shake your head, though. “Can’t, baby,” you tell him, pulling on your t-shirt and kissing him on the cheek. “You have an email to finish writing.”

~

Thank you for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

Tagging: @kflixnet @k-radio @ggukkieland

[candymeowz]

Heyyo and good day!

How are you today~ *proceeds to throw glitters everywhere*

I hope you're doing fine and having a great holiday! Friday's a holiday there (/▽＼) Anyway, are you ready for–

Pop Quiz!

In your opinion, what pet names are suitable for all the characters? (minus Luke of course)

And what pet name is suitable for MC from all the characters?

Discuss. (75 marks)

Level of difficulty: KBAT A+

✍(◔◡◔)

Pet Names with the OM!Characters:

LUCIFER:

For Him: First of all, a classic abbreviation taken from his name, Luci! It's a nickname that not many use, yet sweet and personal. But if you want to make it even more personal, a name that only you'll ever be allowed to call him, then Lulu works too! (I'd probably suggested Luke too if Luke didn't exist... I like one syllable names, alright.)

You can't go wrong with My Love either, a simple yet elegant pet name for your beloved pet demon. Or perhaps you'd want to make it more him, and call him My Diamond? Strong and rare like the gem, and also 'cause of that diamond on his forehead.

And y'know how he's named Lucifer 'Morningstar'... why not a nickname related to the only star that's visible in the morning, the sun? My Sun, or the shining light of my life.

From Him: He'd definitely call his S/O My Love as well, and Darling is a safe choice. I wanted to say I think of him as a rather traditional man, but doesn't he like Metal? Dearest, and Beautiful are names he'd call you with as well!

.

MAMMON:

For Him: First and foremost, Mams! Cute, sweet and only one syllable! Plus, no one else calls him that, as far as I know. You can also call him his Devilgram name, Mammoney~ Though that's definitely more well-known compared to the former.

Another choice is Baby 'cause this is Mams we're talkin' 'bout. And call him Handsome and he'll melt into a puddle by your feet. He's a model, so obviously many people think so too, but hearing it from you? This boy's pride soars through the Celestial Realm.

You can also use Sweetheart or Sweetcheeks! I personally headcanon him to have dimples, and even in the artworks he's got a sweet smile. And seeing how he loves his Goldie so much, why not call him Golden Boy? Oh, and Idk how I forget to mention it earlier, but My Demon! 'cause he's your demon. Also 'cause he calls you...

From Him: My Human! I know it, you know it, next. My Treasure, Precious or Gemstone, 'cause you're the most precious treasure in the entire three worlds he'll ever have the privilege of calling his. He'd also call you with the common nicknames Babe, or Baby.

.

LEVIATHAN:

For Him: Starting with the personalized nicknames... Lev Sounds almost like 'Love' but with a twist~ You can use Leviachan or Levi, too, of course. There's also Ethan, taken from the 'athan' of Leviathan... But then some might start to wonder who you're referring to.

Lord of Shadows! In reference to the Seven Lord series~ and you can also call him My Player Number One and he'll love you even more, a constant reminder that he can always call on you to play the latest multiplayer game he's stumbled upon.

Other than that, Cutie's a good nickname as well. Suitable for the cute demon. And Otaku Nerd can be used affectionately~ Or perhaps you wanna use the classic Baby? Or Darling? Sure! He loves that as well! After he faints from overheating the first few times, of course. And 'd probably call it a normie thing to say.

From Him: I honestly can't see him using a normie nickname, but would he still call you Normie if he's in a romantic relationship with you, I wonder? Oh, and your name plus a '-chan' at the end! Simple and cute~ Player Number Two and Henry are also on this list, matching your nicknames for him.

.

SATAN:

For Him: Firstly, you can't go wrong with the abbreviations taken from his name! Tan, Tannie or Tantan are exclusive choices, only permitted for you to use, or perhaps you'd rather call him Catan' 'cause he likes cats? Likes is probably an understatement though...

Catboy's a nice choice as well~ For the same reason as Catan. And when you see him reading yet another book at the library or something, you can affectionately call him Nerd or Bookworm! He won't mind, as long as it's you~

Other choices would include My Love or Dear cause he's a true romanticist at heart and classic nicknames such as these would make him feel soft and fuzzy inside, or maybe My One and Only, 'cause no one's quite as special as he is to you.

From Him: Kitten or My Little Meow Meow's the first thought that came to mind, since we all know how much he loves cats... Getting called by him a name that relates to his favourite creature really shows how much he loves you. He'd also use My Love and Dear or Darling, 'cause he's a classy man. He'd also might make a personalized nickname out of your real name!

.

ASMODEUS:

For Him: First and foremost, the most common yet cute nicknames shorten from his full name, Asmo or Asmochan! But if you want one that only you'll ever call him by, then I suggest Momo or Momochan! He'd think you're the cutest creature ever if you use those nicknames~

Another choice is Jewel or Eye-Candy, 'cause guess what? He's adorable and cute and fashionable and priceless! Of course, Gorgeous and Pretty Boy are nicknames well-suited for this beloved demon as well!

And we can't forget Baby! Or you can combine it with his name and call him Asmobaby or Momobaby, He loves it when you call him cute nicknames, so names like Berries or Pink are free to be used as well!

From Him: honestly Momo has so many nicknames for you it's not even funny. It'd include pet names such as Cutiepie and Gorgeous, 'cause it's just facts, alright, you are a gorgeous cutiepie! As well as Sugar or Sweetheart to an abbreviation of your nickname and Babe and Love. He loves you that much, okay. Got compliments to last you an eternity~

.

BEELZEBUB:

For Him: Beely or Beelz! It's easy, it's cute, so why not? Another cute option is Bub! taken from the last part of his name~. Beelzebabys a nice option as well! Oh, and B!

Or if you only want to call him Baby, go ahead. And y'know how he's a huge cuddleble demon with the best, most secure hugs? Call him Teddy Bear and he'd have the biggest smile on his face. Do it. Lovebug and Cuddlebug are also great choices~ As suggested by @luxthestrange (Tq~)

Oh, and how about the nickname Munchkin? He may not be a small baby, but he's always munching, and you know he looks as cute as a baby when his cheeks are stuffed like a squirrel. And I'm sure he'd love it if you treat him gentle like you're handling glass despite him being some of the most physically toughest demon in Devildom! And Sunshine's a good option as well~

From Him: Any food-related nicknames~ Listen, he loves food, he basically lives for it, so getting a food-related nickname from him is a huge sign of his love for you. Cupcakes, Peaches, Cheeseburger, you name a food item, he's probably already called you that at least once before. And it's probably corresponds to how you look that day! He'd also use Baby as a pet name for you as well~

.

BELPHEGOR:

For Him: Starting off with a classic Belphie! Everyone calls him that, though, so mayhaps you'd want to try to make it more unique to only you and call him Belph or Belphiebaby? Or Bell! That seems like a nice pet name for him.

And don't forget Cowman or Moo-man! They're cute nicknames for the cute cow demon. Or- you can also use Sleepy Cow Baby 'cause that's him in a nutshell. and My Star or My Galaxy works as well, if you wanna be sweet with this demon~ Oh, and My Sleep Paralysis Demon! He'd be smiling in his sleep if you call him that.

Lego or Lego Man's on the table as well, 'cause, y'know, beLphEGOr? See the L, E, G and O present in his name? Case closed. Imma start calling him Lego Man. He'd totally be one of those people who can create jaw-dropping lego art if he wasn't so lazy. Or you can refer to him as your Spoilt Brat affectionately 'cause really, is he not one?

From Him: Baby he'd definitely call you a big baby, or another common one would be My Pillow 'cause deal with it- The second you agreed to date him you've consented to become his personal pillow~ And Belph would definitely use My Star during the soft moments you'd have with him.

.

DIAVOLO:

For Him: Let's start of with the most famous nickname in all fanfics... Dia! I personally pronounce it as 'Dee-ya' but Idk and Idc what's the correct way. Anyways, another pet name you can use for this beloved demon is Didi! Very simple and cute~

Other than that, y'know Dia's known to wear red, right? Plus he's got red hair, so... Red! I just think it suits him. Oh, and you can call him My King too! Ruffle his hair while you call him that and watch his eyes close in contentment.

And of course, the classics... My Beloved, Dearest, and Handsome are all free to use~ There's something's special in the simply sweet nicknames. There's also pet names such as My Baby which would suit him.

From Him: (Insert Royal Titles Here) 'cause you deserve to be treated like royalty and he'd literally give you the world if you asked for it. Other pet names he'd call you would include My World and My Love! And also a special nickname based of your own name~

.

BARBATOS:

For Him: Barbs is the shortest form of his name, so why not call him that? Or perhaps you wanna lengthen it by a tiny bit and use Barbie? For some reason, I can also see his S/O calling him Tossie, so yeah, you can use that too!

Another pet name suited for this butler is the classic My Love and Dear! He won't have a visible reaction other than maybe a light blush if you call him those, but know his heart's doing summersaults in that chest of his.

You can also use Moony 'cause it's cute and his presence is like one. Very calming and always there for you. And since one of his key characteristics is his love for baking, affectionately calling him Chef or Sweetheart are a good way to remind him of your love~

From Him: Love and Dear, since he's a classy sorta guy and tend to be more on the formal side. He'd also call you sweet terms of endearment like Pumpkin or Cupcake, though he does prefer to call you your real name~

I searched for the meaning of Barbatos and it meant bearded man so that's that.

.

SIMEON:

For Him: Starting up with the first pet name, Sim! I used to think that that's referring to the Sims games and it took a while for me to get used to calling the angel, Sim... But it's really cute and now even I call him Sim 'cause it saves time and energy~ You can also call him Eon!

Another pet name that suits our angel would of course be My Angel emphasis on the my. He loves being called yours, as well as you his. Moonlight is another cute nickname for him, 'cause his beauty is one that's serene and peaceful and it's the type that once you see it, it's difficult to get your eyes off it.

He's a polite gentleman through and through, so Love, Dearest and Sweetcheeks are all up for grabs for this angel here~ You can also use Mochi or Chocolate 'cause he's that sweet, so why not a sweet name for a sweet angel?

From Him: He'd call you Starlight! It's soft and not really common, which makes it more unique than some! Would also call you My Little Lamb 'cause you're an innocent human being in his eyes, no matter what you did in your life. Definitely uses Love and Dear as well!

.

SOLOMON:

For Him: First of all in the abbreviations section, you can call him Solly! Short and personal, only you will ever call him that! Throws Momochan out of the picture. You can also call him Sol or Money 'cause why not? Why shouldn't you call him using the last syllable of his name and adding an 'ey' at the end?

Other than that, call him King! I like the hc that he's lived as a king in the earlier years of his immortalhood, and I doubt he'd dislike it. Having a petname like My Immortal Sorcerer or My Life is also a good attempt at making him blush, if you wish to do so. The latter work especially effectively!

The classic Babe and Baby suits him as well~ My Beloved and Darling can also be an option for pet names you can call him!

From Him: My World or Home 'cause that's who you are to the wandering sorcerer. A source of comfort, a cozy place to return to, you're the stone in his ever-changing life. Babe, Gorgeous and Love are also names he'd use to call you with~ And other such nicknames personalized to certain characteristics of yours!

A/N: Wrote this in three days 'cause I loved the ask~

And HAN, WHY IN EXAM FORM IBGKSHCUDN 😂😂😂 are ya tryna remind me of the exams in November that I'm desperately tryin' to run away from and ignore it's existence?

:Anyways, good question, sister. Definitely requires KBAT (High thinking skills)... But lucky you, I'm a grade A student! 😎 Might've actually deteriorated from that position but hey, I'm slowly but surely rising back up~ Update: No, I'm not.

As always, hope you enjoyed these~

*Looks at the mess of glitter you've thrown all over my blog.

I appreciate the gesture, but do you know who's gonna have to clean all this up? 🙃

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Taglist: @yukihaie @ariavage @satanist-apparently