#like yes i know where to find the hair dye

[secretrhys]

working in a supermarket is like being an NPC who gives helpful hints along the main character's quest

[inkskinned]

there are days that it is hard, and unfair, and some horrible part of me wishes i could have been born in a different world. i love being queer, i hate how others react to it. when i first came out at 15, my mom whispered: please don't say that. your life would be so much harder.

it is harder.

it is also a tuesday, walking my dog. we are both skiving off of work, and yes both of us have dyed hair and pronouns. mine is patchy - it was my first time trying bleach; i didn't have enough. theirs is a resilient toadstool green. a little girl comes up to us and asks um, excuse me? is your hair real? 'cause jason says you're a fairy.

it is sunday brunch, all of us talking over each other, overfull on love. she is trying out a new name today, and we made her a cake with today's name scrawled in shaky purple letters. she laughs so much she cries and then gets frosting in her hair. someone young at a different table keeps giving us these large, wide eyes: the same look we have all been on the other side of. the kind that says, breathless: wait, is that possible?

it is a half-fight in a supermarket because he loves "dance moms" and says abby's tiktok is funny and meanwhile i think the children in that show should be allowed to sue abby lee miller for child abuse. i tell him that it led to the casual acceptance of child harassment for mainly adult views; and then i am standing, suddenly, in someone else's thrown soda. there's a white lady standing there, furious, saying something about hell-on-earth. i had forgotten i was wearing stuff with pride colors. and then it is this: he had just been casually arguing with me - and within an instant, he squares his shoulders and goes after her like i am his sister

on saturday i sat in a circle while beca played with my hair and we were all over 30 and we laughed about how much happier we are being this old, how much more we appreciate our community. 25 minutes from now, we will be on stage to dance in baggy beige clothing, but for now we look on with envy to the dancers in loud-and-bright buttondowns. where are they getting these shirts! i cry, distraught. everyone laughs. one of our friends has a mushroom witch hat. this would have been cringey in high school, probably. instead we are all delighted with each other; happy just to be here and alive and moving

it's that last week my new friends cried with joy for me when they heard i'm getting top surgery. every so often i have the honor of being the first person someone feels comfortable enough to tell. i'm trying to make long fluttery butterfly wings to wear to pride; but i don't know anything about fabric or dye, so my friends have been sending me their personal advice.

i think in a different poem i would talk about how sometimes you walk into a room and put the mask back on. but i'm sleepy and my whole brain is fuzzy so i think in this one, it's a monday, and my dog and i took a nap on a couch, and i had missed texts from friends. i used to wake up lonely. i think this poem is about walking into a room and seeing someone and just knowing, the way you just-know-sometimes, and then giving them that little smile, and seeing them light up with joy and relief. it is how we always seem to be able to find each other in a crowded room. how we always seem to make friends with each other before even we know-it-to-be-true. it is saying: we're very different people; but i belong to you.

it is harder, yes. but it comes with a built-in family.

[myeagleexpert]

Yan!Batfamily x Singer!YN (neglected)

Inspired by @@gotham-daydreams's fic, your work is wonderful and makes me think about many things…. One of the things I think about is if they found Reader from her music…. Reader here is heavily inspired by Naomi Jon, she is an independent singer from Germany, she regularly makes videos on youtube about makeup, shopping on websites, tiktok foods, things like that. She is a very fun person to watch and I highly recommend you watch it, all her videos are in English. (one detail is that she doesn’t talk much about her family, and lives with her friend Vincent and boyyy every time I read about Reader from Not [ ] fics I remember her. If you disagree, that’s okay, I still like the idea of ​​YN’s glow up <3) “Have you seen, come and read my diary Then you will see, that you don’t mean shit to me” – MANTRA- Naomi Jon

I imagine that while shopping at a store, Steph liked the store’s playlist and went to look for who was singing it.

Imagine her face when she finds out that the person she was listening to… was the YN everyone was looking for. She immediately discovers her YouTube channel, social media… and everyone immediately starts binge-watching and stalking all of her videos

Dick would be the type of person who would learn the choreography for your music videos, just to dance with you. He swears he can be the fun older brother you need, he can be in your videos too! And cook! I don't think he wears makeup, but he would watch all your makeup videos because he likes your reviews, and when you make a joke or mix up the language in the video he finds it so funny that he can't help but laugh. He wants to test out the latest skincare products with you and wants to travel together! You look so different now, with bold eyeliner and colorful hair, Dick wonders if you've always been like this and he was just blind because he didn't see it. Come on, he didn't know you had this fun and easygoing side, let's spend more time together, okay?

“This dress deserves… THE BUSINESS WALK!”

Jason sees how you've grown, and how much better you are away from Gotham. Like a flower that blooms only when it's in a clean and suitable environment, you've brilliantly transformed into who you are. But a part of him, the biggest part, thinks you'd be much safer around your family, where they can protect you. You sing and post so many videos on the internet, what if someone comes after you? Let your brother stay close, okay? And who is this friend who lives with you anyway? He is not trustworthy - no. It doesn't matter if you've known him since you were kids and have lived together for a long time. Another thing I bet he would do is join you on the days when you dye your hair in the craziest ways possible, he has some experience with dye, you know?

“C’mon FriendReader, this is the plan for this hair dyeing technique. Yes, all seven colors are here!”

For those who neglected Reader and pretended you didn't exist, he is your #01 Fan now. Tim definitely listens to ALL your music, and is 100% connected to your social networks. He watches and rewatches all your videos, they are so interactive and relaxed that he has the illusion that he is living it all with you. He's the type of person who eats while watching your videos, and watches them before bed, and when he's having a particularly stressful situation he'll lock himself in his room and watch one of your vlogs, because your voice has such a calming effect of normality that for him, it's like at any moment you'll open his door asking to try a 2-ingredient recipe you saw on TikTok.

“Timothyyy~ try this recipe I saw on tik tok!”

Damian is an interesting case… because he discovered that his precious blood brother has a side to him that he never saw. When he walked into your room and looked at all your memories, all your pictures of your achievements, all your music sketches he KNEW you were talented, but when he saw you in action in your videos and shows it was like a cartoon character came to life. YOU came to life! Definitely buy all your merch, and talk about you all the time to John. Do you still have two cats?? Enough, the kidnapping is you and them two.

“My next show will be…”

Bruce goes back and rereads your journal drafts and realizes how much your music has really changed, your focus now being only on your fans and not your family. Like everyone else in the family, he watches your videos daily and keeps thinking “I could give her a bigger box of surprises so she can record a video” “Did she think that dress was pretty? I could buy her a better one, shinier and pinker, just like she wanted.” When you post a video of the backstage of a show and all your lively preparations, he can’t help but feel guilty for the thousandth time that day. He should be by your side right now, a father should be behind the scenes giving you comfort and strength to go on the show. He should be in the front row cheering when you realized your dream of going on stage for the first time. The whole family should… You’re trying so hard, your dedication is palpable in your videos and shows. The little girl grew up and became a dreamy woman, but who do you run to when you need to cry? Let him be your comforting shoulder now, let him come into your life again.

“I made this song especially for you, my fans!”

When Alfred put that video of YN’s childhood on TV, where she performed in a school play, to remind everyone of her absence, he couldn’t be more proud of his work when weeks later he hears her voice coming from one of the boys’ rooms. It's you singing one of the songs, the batboy repeating it for the tenth time. Your voice has changed, from a childish and angelic voice to a woman's, your looks have gradually gained confidence and personality, but your “presence” in the mansion is ghostly. He feels so happy for you, you are externalizing to the world what he has always seen: that you are incredible. Alfred doesn't need to marathon your videos to feel closer to you, he already has affectionate memories, he already has albums from when you were a baby and tested recipes with him, he already has videos of you training to sing when you were little… But he still watches your videos because unfortunately, even with him you lost contact. He watches the videos like a grandfather watches his grandson's stories “Oh? Are you in Tokyo now? How wonderful, dear, remember the coat.” “Oh dear YN, I don't think this recipe will be good for you…” “Yn, be careful with the scams on these strange websites!”

“Guys, I know what you’re thinking… BUT maybe combining onion and chocolate CAN work.”

[wcters]

𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗧 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗔 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗦𝗧𝗨𝗗𝗬𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗖𝗢𝗦𝗠𝗘𝗧𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: the relationship between matt and a girlfriend in cosmetology school

warnings/notes: established relationship, swearing, nudity innuendos?? they are naked together, kinda went off the cosmetology thing but it’s cute so whtv, a bit short but this is my first time doing preferences

- first . . . he’s totally spoiled

- like really spoiled

- you would practice at home, and then whatever you could on matt

- manicure: hand massages, cuticle cutting, nail painting, hair washing: head massages, shampoo and conditioning his hair

- he would let you practice shaving his beard but it would take awhile for him to let you

- not because he doesn’t trust you, but because he was going through a beard phase

- matt would loveeee the head massages and would get you to do them all the time

- eventually it becomes second nature and so you’ll be cuddling on the couch or outside sitting down with him between your legs and your hand will just find it’s way into his hair

- and you have fake nails so you know it feels reallyyy good

- waxing . . . but he would not admit that he lets you do it

- you ALWAYS smell good

- your shampoo and conditioner, perfume, skin/body care

- nick always asks you what you use for your skin

- sleepovers with nick where you do skincare, face masks, nail painting

- and chris begs to join until nick says yes

- matt always finds you three on nick’s bed watching a movie

- you had been obsessed with makeup your whole life

- def the designated hair braider on your sports team

- BATHS TOGETHER

- bubble bath, candles, you talking about your day and drama and he’ll be listening

- he’s just happy to be there

- studying at his house while you’re watching a movie together or if he’s busy with the podcast

- chris coming up to you and randomly asking you a question about what you’re doing when you’re studying

- “why do you push your cuticles back?” “how do perms work? like how do you do them?”

- it makes you smile because he’s genuinely interested

- will show him some things if you can

- you’re super sweet

- everyone likes you

- you’re a girls girl

- someone needs a pad/tampon? you got it. someone doesn’t want to go somewhere alone? they aren’t because you’re coming with

- you don’t gatekeep skincare or makeup

- always have lip balm on you

- you and matt go to the gym together

- always have a matching top and pants for your workout outfit

- matt just can’t believe you’re his 🤍

- like he looks at you like you hung the moon and stars

- i want to wear his initial on a chain ‘round my neck vibes

- you literally have a necklace with his initial, you walked it with it on and his eyes popped out of his head

- totally share jewelry

- you steal his sweaters, shirts, shorts, boxers, basically anything you can get your hands on

- give matt face massages

- he be lookin’ flawless

- pays for you even though you decline because he knows how much money you use for school stuff

- that shit is expensiveeee

- nick asked you first to help him dye his hair red

- ofc you said yes! he’s your bestie

- played ariana, doja cat, clairo, stuff like that

- #danceparty

- your stuff sort of pops up around the house

- chris will find like a bobbypin or a hair tie on the floor

- smells like you because you bought candles for them that you loved

- thrifting and going to flea markets and getting stuff for your apartment like vases, cups to hold jewelry, etc

- your hair is amazing. everyone’s jealous. i’m jealous.

- no split ends, doesn’t get greasy until at least 5-6 days after you wash it, perfect for styling. also sleep with a bonnet because that does wonders for you

- lashes are amazing as well. it’s because you get them done while at school 😉😉😉

- you drive nick and chris around if matt’s not there or busy

- they literally love you

- think you’re perfect for your brother

- so nice, so sweet, literal angel

- you’ve been on the podcast

- made a tiktok account after matt suggested you do

- blew up. and it’s partly because you don’t gatekeep

- you’re so relatable too, being completely honest about how you feel . . . and are so funny

- “hot take . . . men should shave their armpits. like how do you put deodorant on?” “you ever too lazy to wash your face so all it is is a makeup wipe and a rinse with water? me too.”

- will trim matt’s hair if be wants just a trim

- you first said no, didn’t want to mess up, but he believed in you 🤭🤭

- your biggest supporter

- they would totally be there when you graduate

- cheering loudly when you walk along the stage

- like the pricilla movie scene but with no creepy old men

- you love that movie, hate elvis, but love pricillia

- you sometimes cook for them so they don’t eat out all the time

- you’re a good cook 👩‍🍳

- force them to have some form of vegetables

- his parents love you

- go fishing with jimmy and the boys the one time they do (sorry jimmy but it’s true)

- fans will ask for pictures when you visit matt on tour

- who’s the triplets? they’re here for you

- matt is so proud of you

- if you ever need him to pick you up he’ll bring you food or starbucks so you have energy when you’re done

- is at your beck and call

- ask him to jump off a cliff? he’ll hesitate a bit but will ultimately do it

[ladylokilaufeyson5]

Where The Shadows Dance - The Proposition (i)

Bodyguard!Azriel x AutumnDaughter!Reader

CHAPTER I: The Proposition

SUMMARY: Beron has invited the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court to spend a week in the Autumn Court. Azriel and the rest of the Court of Dream believe he has ulterior motives, and they are correct - but these motives come as a surprise.

WARNINGS: Um. Misogyny. love that for us (i hate the autumn court). swearing (the f-word (as in fuck)), y/n has daddy issues (bc beron is a cunt) and uh... i haven't read acotar in ages so apologies for any OC characteristics and forgetting everything about the autumn court. but i did read HOFAS recently so hopefully az isn't too out of character. also tw: beron

NOTE: so obviously Y/n is the daughter of the autumn court. we know they have red hair BUT i want this to be as less oc as possible so y/n has your colour hair and u can make up ur own story about why but mine is that she's 'rebellious' (as you'll see later on) and just dyes her hair. also special thank you to my moots @icey--stars and @fieldofdaisiies for proofreading my work! i love you guys<3

WORDS: 2.7K

Azriel glowered at the male sat across from him. Eris either didn't notice or pretended he didn't care as he reclined in his chair, one arm over the back and looking for all the world he was in his own home, rather than the Court Of Nightmares.

"Eris," Rhys drawled, "if you have any information to help us with this meeting with your father, we would appreciate it immensely."

The High Lord of the Autumn Court had invited the High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court to his castle for a week, as a gesture of good will, and an attempt to strengthen their bonds. Of course, the court was suspicious of the intent behind such actions. Although Azriel had sent his contacts in to find any sliver of information, his spies had come back empty-handed.

Eris rolled his shoulders, seemingly at ease despite being surrounded by the Night Court's most deadly warriors. "I am not entirely sure what he wants, but I assume it has something to do with my sister, Y/n."

Y/n, the only daughter of the High Lord of Autumn. She was quite young, by Fae standards – only seventy-nine. She had not fought in the war against Hybern, and had very little training according to Azriel's knowledge.

"Why her?" Feyre asked carefully.

Azriel heard the shift in her tone. She was wondering, as they all were, what Beron intended to do with her. The Autumn Court was just as backwards as the Court Of Nightmares, and females were considered little more than property. 

Eris simply shrugged, either not hearing the implications in the High Lady's tone, or simply not caring. "That is all I know, I'm afraid."

Cassian grunted, his eyes still on the heir to the Autumn throne. No one was particularly happy about the bargain they had struck with him, but he seemed to be a willing ally. For now.

"What can you tell us about her?" Feyre inquired.

Eris watched her for a moment, before responding, "She is… wild. Untamed, and unpredictable."

Despite his words, Azriel sensed a flicker of admiration in his tone. Azriel stored that piece of information away. It could be a weakness of Eris's, his sister. They may need to exploit it one day.

"Sounds like my kind of lady," Mor grinned.

The fact that Mor bothered speak in Eris's presence was a gift that the heir did not appreciate enough. Azriel glanced sidelong at her, noticing the way her unbound golden hair cascaded down her back, and the amount of skin her low-cut red dress revealed. Once, looking at her like that would have sent Azriel mad with longing. But after she had confided in him, after she had revealed she could never love him back because she preferred females… some part of him had been relieved to let her go.

Eris scoffed at Mor's comment. "Yes, well, she irritates my father to no end."

There was a silence, and Azriel wondered whether Y/n annoyed Eris as well, before Rhys sighed, "Well, if that's all, Eris, I'm sure you have places to be."

The dismissal was clear in the High Lord's tone, and Eris rose from his chair with a nod before leaving the council room. Everyone was silent as the male left, all eyeing each other. Feyre and Rhys were looking at each other, a clear indication of their telepathic conversation, and Azriel watched the two with a hint of jealousy. Of course he was happy from them – finding one's mate was one of the most fulfilling things one could experience. But he couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for his own. It seemed he was the last of the court to find his mate, and he had a fear that he would never find them.

"Has anyone heard much about this Princess?" Cassian asked, looking towards Azriel.

Azriel shook his head. "She is one of the most guarded individuals in Prythian. My sources struggle to even see her."

"Very guarded indeed," Rhysand murmured.

The Court of Dreams debated between themselves the possibilities of what the High Lord of Autumn could want regarding his daughter. Azriel had a few of his own suspicions – to have her taken away, or perhaps trained in combat – but none of them seemed accurate. 

After a while of debating plausible explanations for Beron's offer, the court decided to head home to the City of Starlight in order to get a good night's rest before their meeting tomorrow. The High Lord and High Lady were going, as well as Cassian and Azriel. Morrigan was not permitted in the Autumn Court, so she would stay behind with Nesta to hold down the fort while they were gone. Amren would also be travelling to the Autumn Court, and although the monster she was no longer crawled beneath her skin, she made most people wary.

As he lay in his bed, Azriel couldn't help but wonder what awaited him tomorrow. He was curious about what the Autumn High Lord wanted, especially regarding his daughter, although he was also wary. Although Autumn had helped them in the war, they couldn't be trusted. Azriel fell into an uneasy sleep, cautious of the days to come.

Azriel awoke at dawn the next day. They weren't due in the Autumn Court until the evening, so Azriel decided to go through his morning exercises. The Valkyries weren't up yet, so he went through his warm ups, taking his shirt off halfway through. The morning was uneventful, and Azriel ran over the information they had in his head. Eris had suggested that Beron may be seeking a favour of some sort, so perhaps it had something to do with that.

The day passed by quickly, and soon enough, those travelling to the Autumn Court had gathered in the living room of the River House, just as they had planned. Azriel and Cassian wore their scaled, black armour, while Rhys and Feyre wore their finery. Rhysand held his mate's arm, and Azriel grabbed onto Cassian, before winnowing to the entrance of the Autumn Court castle.

It was big, and made of stone. It was quite majestic, if Azriel was being honest – high towers and red and orange flags waving in the wind, large windows showcasing rich carpets and tapestries inside.

Rhys led the way, Feyre on his arm and Cassian and Azriel following closely, and Amren trailing behind. Guards monitored them as they passed through the halls, their armour heavier the closer they got to the throne room. Azriel marked each one as they passed, something he was sure Cassian and Rhysand were also doing.

The doors to the throne room opened, and revealed the High Lord of the Autumn Court sat atop a dais, the Lady of Autumn seated beside him. Beron's sons stood on his left, and his daughter was seated to her mother's right.

Azriel paused at the sight of her. She was beautiful, even by Fae standards. Her h/c hair shone in the Fae light liming the walls, piled neatly on her head in a braid crown. Y/n’s e/c eyes sparked with mischief and curiosity, skimming over the members of Azriel's Court, until they finally landed on him. Her gaze was mesmerising, and Azriel couldn't find it in himself to break it. A small smirk played at the corners of her mouth, as if she were aware of the effect she had on him, although Azriel's mask of icy cold had not budged even an inch. Azriel quickly tore his eyes away from the Daughter of Autumn, marking the guards posted by the doors and the dais, and counting the weapons each of Beron's sons carried. 

"Beron," Rhysand purred, ever the arrogant High Lord, the mask back up despite the High Lords' meeting all those months ago. "So lovely to see you again. Thank you for inviting us to stay."

Beron rose from his dias and stalked towards the High Lord of the Night Court. Everyone tensed as he stepped closer and closer, and Azriel subtly reached for the dagger at his side. Beron's blood would spray across the marble floors the second Azriel suspected he would harm his High Lord or Lady. But Beron simply held his hand out, and Rhys gripped it tightly, his eyes holding a small amount of surprise.

"Rhysand. A pleasure to have you here," Beron replied. Azriel didn't miss the slight strain in his voice. "You must be hungry. Shall we?"

Beron inclined his head to the dining room and led the way with Rhysand and Feyre at his side. He hadn't even acknowledged the High Lady, something that made Azriel want to rip the male’s head off, but Rhys got there first.

“And what about my High Lady?” Rhys purred, a dangerous edge to his voice.

Beron’s smile faltered slightly, and he glanced at Feyre with a barely concealed look of distaste, as if he would rather rip off his own toenails than address a female with the same amount of respect that he would expect. Azriel felt a protective anger surge through him, and he watched carefully, curious as to what the High Lord’s next move would be.

“Of course,” Beron said, his voice dripping with fake courtesy. “My apologies, Lady Feyre. Of course it is wonderful to have you both visit.”

Cassian gave Azriel a look that said, And-what-about-us? Aren't-we-wonderful?

Azriel sent him a look back that said, Shut-the-fuck-up.

Beron led them all to the dining room, the Autumn colours present everywhere they looked. The chairs were all high-backed, and Azriel knew that Beron did not care if he and Cassian would be comfortable with their wings. Everyone took their seats — Beron at the head, Rhysand to his left, and Feyre beside him. Azriel sat next to his High Lady, Cassian taking his seat adjacent to the shadowsinger. The Lady of Autumn (still not a High Lady, despite the fact that Viviane was also now a High Lady) sat to Beron’s right, Eris beside her, and Y/n next to him, and across from Azriel. Azriel felt Y/n’s eyes on him, and he met her gaze. There was a curious look in her eyes, a look of anticipation mixed with mischief.

Dinner was served, an array of meats and vegetables placed on the table by servants, mostly lesser fairies. None of them looked Azriel in the eye, and he wondered if it was because they knew who and what he was, or if they’d been trained not to. Y/n, however, had no such qualms about this, and stared at the shadowsinger unabashedly.

Beron struck up a conversation with Rhys — small talk, something that Azriel internally cringed at, because it was definitely just to fill the silence. Ever the gracious guest, Rhysand responded in kind, although Azriel knew he was wondering what Beron’s ulterior motives were.

“How do your siphons work?”

The table went silent as Y/n spoke, her cunning eyes trained on Azriel. Beron looked at his daughter with a hint of irritation gleaming in his eyes, as if it was unacceptable for her to speak without permission. Azriel glanced at Rhysand, who was watching the daughter of Autumn with a hint of suspicion in his eyes.

“How do you know that is what they are called?” Rhys asked, his eyes trained on the only daughter of Autumn.

She shrugged, and answered, “I read a lot in my spare time. I remember reading about the Illyrians, and their siphons. If I remember correctly, Illyrians tend to possess only one, yet the two of you hold several.”

“There is no need to question our guests, Y/n,” Beron scolded firmly.

Y/n frowned. “I was simply curious.”

“Do not speak back to me,” Beron reprimanded, a burning fury now evident in his eyes.

Y/n slumped back into her chair slightly and bowed her head. “My apologies, Father.”

Beron didn’t even acknowledge his daughter before he turned back to Rhys, as if her mere existence didn’t deserve another moment of his time. Azriel watched the female in front of him as she stared at her plate, and felt a sense of sympathy for her. Azriel owed her nothing — he did not know the female in front of him, did not know if she even deserved his sympathy — and yet he felt the need to protect, to wipe that blank expression off of her face.

“Our siphons act as a conduit for our raw power,” Azriel offered, causing Y/n to look up. Beron paused, glancing at the shadowsinger and the Autumn daughter, and Azriel continued, “It helps to control our magic, to make it precise and nimble, rather than a messy outburst of power.”

Cassian gaped at his brother, as if he had never heard that many words come out of Azriel’s mouth in one sitting. While that was an inaccurate statement, it was true that Azriel never tended to speak in front of new people. He wasn’t sure why he had done so anyway. But Y/n bowed her head in thanks at the information, perhaps still wary of answering and speaking without her father’s permission, but Azriel had observed a small, triumphant light in the female’s eyes at his reply.

Azriel watched as that gleam faded when Beron cleared his throat, gaining the attention from everyone in the room.

“There is a reason why I have asked you here,” Beron stated.

“Surprise, surprise,” Cassian muttered, and Azriel elbowed him.

Beron glanced at Cassian for all of a second before continuing, “There has been an attempt on my daughter’s life.” Stunned silence met Beron’s words, and Azriel caught Y/n rolling her eyes. That raised his suspicion — were Beron’s words false, or did she simply believe it was not an issue? “If it appeals to you,” Beron went on, “I seek to employ one of your Night Court warriors as her personal bodyguard.”

Rhys blinked once, his only sign of surprise. Beron looked at Rhys expectantly, and Azriel could have guessed the thoughts that flew around Rhys’s head.

“Why one of my warriors?” Rhys inquired carefully.

“I hoped it might help strengthen bonds between our courts,” Beron expressed.

Azriel watched the High Lord of the Autumn Court carefully. There seemed to be no ulterior motives hidden within his demeanour — he did not shift nervously, none of his facial features even so much as twitched.

“And say I agree to this,” Rhys said casually, “how long would you hold onto one of my warriors?”

“Until the threat against my daughter’s life is eliminated,” Beron answered.

There was silence for a few moments while everyone processed what was happening. Azriel looked at Eris to see the male’s eyes on his father. They were carefully guarded, a mask in place to ensure no one was able to discern what he was thinking. Azriel turned his gaze to Y/n, and a shadow slithered up by his ear.

She does not believe it to be such a serious matter, the shadow whispered. She wishes for this dinner to be over so she may go back to her quarters and finish her novel.

Azriel blinked in surprise at the information from his shadow. Usually, his shadows would tell him what others could not see and hear — but this felt almost like too much. Yes, his shadows had a tendency to recognise when someone was lying, or what weapons they were concealing, but to give him a person’s unvoiced opinion on a matter was something new.

But indeed, with her chin propped up on her delicate hand, and twirling her dessert fork in the other, she appeared to be completely disinterested. Azriel turned his gaze back to the male beside her, to see Eris already watching his sister. His eyes were cold and calculating as he regarded her, as if he was mentally playing out how this ‘bodyguard’ situation would go. With the slight frown tugging the corners of his lips downwards, Azriel assumed Eris did not believe it would end well.

“Please, do take time to come to a decision,” Beron offered. “I do understand this is a lot to ask.”

“We shall have an answer by the end of the week,” Rhys said with a nod.

Beron nodded back, and Azriel wondered what they were getting themselves into.

TAGLIST: @honeybee54321 @marigold-morelli @lucky7rosie @itsswritten @paankhaleyaar @bubybubsters @5onedirection5 @lilah-asteria @sheblogs @thelov3lybookworm @blushingfawnsposts @thisiskaylin

(users in bold could not be tagged)

[sidekickjoey]

In the summer of '86, fresh off of saving the world, Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler get blonde highlights.

Be it a coping mechanism after handling the hell that was spring or simply a mutual need for change, the decision is made without nervousness from either party. They enter the salon together, swear up and down to their assigned hairstylists that, yes, this is what they want and no, they do not care that their hair already looks perfect as is, thanks, and leave donning notably different looks.

Steve's signature chestnut ends up woven between streaks of gold, giving him a sort of distracting glimmering effect when he walks out into the sun. Nancy's waves, though still shoulder length and crimped to perfection, sway almost completely and utterly blonde in any light.

Needless to say, their new looks quickly make them, the former it-couple of Hawkins, the talk of the town once more - including that of their two closest friends, Eddie and Robin.

They, unlike the general public of Hawkins, have spent the past few months slowly building massive crushes on Steve and Nancy, entranced by their might after surviving the horrors of the Upside Down. While to most a change in hair color for Steve and Nancy is merely an oddity, to them? It's like someone hit the panic button and left them to scatter in a secluded room.

Robin has only been over her gaga-for-Vickie phase for a few weeks now. The wound is still fresh, and she knows she should not be looking once again into a possible unrequited love situation until she is better healed emotionally. She also knows he has a weakness for blondes that goes beyond all reason, i.e. Tammy Thompson and her muppet singing voice. She shouldn't act and possibly jeopardize one of her most sincere female friendships over a silly little weakness like that.

However, Nancy looks like a vision in blonde.

Robin thinks it's her big doe eyes that do it. They pop when the blonde meshes with Nancy's fair skin, and it makes her heart swoon in the most debilitating of ways. Not to mention, the softer cut she got along with the lighter coloring frames her face so well. Robin swoons over it. If not for her fear of rejection, she probably would have already taken the leap and done something stupid, like confess how Nancy's scrambled her brain.

Eddie's not doing much better himself with Steve.

He had been there in the early days, when Scoops Ahoy's newest worker showed up in his first edition of golden highlights. Like any good Hawkins resident, he had handled it with poise, class, and lots of extra trips to Scoops Ahoy whenever he happened to be at the Starcourt Mall, along with frequent whisperings of 'what the hell' expressed in the confines of his room where no one could hear him freak out. T'was standard™.

This look, though...it blows Scoops Ahoy Steve away by miles.

It's bright. It's golden. It's like he slipped and fell into some kind of radiant daydream, only to emerge like a ray of sunlight to distract Eddie Munson and Eddie Munson alone, and Eddie can't shut up about it.

Seriously, Wayne has heard enough.

The issue is, he has next to no idea what to do about these feelings. His mind is screaming to make a move on the guy, because you only live once and, well, he's already on his second try. However, his little worried heart loves Steve's newfound companionship and whatever odd-couple friendship they have going on right now. He doesn't want to lose that because of some dye job and a trim. It's too important, too good.

So, like Robin, he finds himself refraining.

They both refrain, and over the next week or so, the decision to do so eats at them like mad. They stumble over their words when speaking to Steve and Nancy. They actually stumble physically, in Robin's case, when Nancy walks by one morning. They tell anyone and everyone they can about it aside from Steve and Nancy, and by the end of that week, it all hits a breaking point. Word slips for the sake of everyone's sanity to Steve and Nancy.

It should mark the beginning of havoc and betrayal.

Instead, it breeds two plans.

Because, here's the thing: Steve and Nancy are not dumb, contrary to what some might think. They are wildly observant people. They know what their friends are up to, and Robin and Eddie are high on that friend list after spring. They've seen their behavior and, though Nancy had to spell a little bit of it out for Steve, both have come to the conclusion that something is definitely up in the crush department. If they want to capitalize on it, they know there is no better time than now while their haircuts are still new and their own crushes are seeking an opportunity to spill their feelings.

Nancy's plan to handle Robin, to the untrained eye, is simple. She's known for carefully thought out strikes when people least expect them, and the last thing she's going to do is stop using that tactic to her advantage now.

So, she invites the other girl on a trip to the mall for new bracelets. She claims it's on account of Holly taking hers hostage (not a total lie) and needing time out with someone her age (also not a total lie), and Robin buys it in seconds. A day later, they meet up at a boutique mall just outside of Hawkins and roam for a few hours together. It's simple. Casual. Subtle enough to be innocent from afar yet just intimate enough for Nancy to make her move when the time is right.

The time becomes right when they're sitting at a booth in the food court, chatting about Holly's other jewelry-related crimes. Nancy accidentally knocks the fork for her salad off the table, catching the attention of them both. Robin is quick to say she's got it, but Nancy is faster. Ready. She reaches down, picks up the fork, and in a fit of bravery, makes damn sure she holds eye contact with Robin the entire way back up. Robin swallows and looks away, clearly flustered and trying to behave over such a small thing as eye contact. But, Nancy doesn't want her to ignore it this time. So, she pulls a cheesy line from Steve's old book (that she totally did not rehearse with Steve, not at all) and misbehaves, just to get the ball rolling.

Batting her eyes, she asks in her most casual drawl, "Sheesh Robin, do blondes always make you this nervous?"

Robin chokes on her milkshake. 'Accidentally' knocks over her own fork. Goes down beneath the table to - not subtly - whisper-scream about what the hell that just was, because what the hell was that? Hello?

Nancy finds it incredibly endearing. She kind of wants to tell her about it.

She joins Robin on the floor to do so and giggles, freakin giggles, at Robin's shock and awe over her being there. Robin, panicked, reaches for the fork she dropped and holds it up to Nancy for her to see like it's some kind of explanation for her huddling under the table a full minute after it fell. She then stutters out a small 'got it,' despite Nancy being a goddamn journalist who notices things for her job and is fully capable of using her own two eyes to see, what the heck Robin??

Nancy still finds it all so endearing, though she doesn't think saying it out loud would be the best course of action anymore. Her last words sort of sent the poor girl into a spiral, and as fun as it is sharing this cramped space with her, she kind of wants to get off the gross tile if at all possible. So, instead, she does the next best thing and expresses her fondness physically.

With a kiss.

On the mouth.

Hidden by the table but all-too-real and seen to Robin, who forgets how to breathe because oh my gosh. Oh my GOSH.

It's perfect. It's effortless. It's everything. It's hands-down worth the hours of waiting Nancy had to do under a hairdryer in foils to get her here, and even more worth Robin's adorably rushed confession after the fact that she's always liked blondes, just a little bit.

~~~~~~

Steve's plan is a lot different than Nancy's.

He is a tried-and-true passionate romantic after all, and Eddie is about as dramatic as Shakespeare. A casual outing or demure kiss under a table is just not going to cut it in terms of a confession for either of them. Steve knows this. He tells it to Nancy. Repeatedly.

After hours of back and forth over the phone, he eventually finds himself at a music store, equipped with a wad of cash and his eyes set on an, admittedly, badass looking guitar. It has blue flames along its black exterior that rise to its very top and are lined with a reflective silver, making it glimmer even in the dim light of the shop. Eddie's been moaning about losing his sweetheart to the Upside Down for weeks -- no, months at this point. Steve thinks this blue beauty would be a perfect replacement for her. He also thinks it might just be what they need to stop dancing around each other's feelings too, if he's lucky.

He purchases it and stows it away in his bedroom before calling Eddie over the following day. The boy is all nerves when he finally arrives. Steve doesn't help ease them by running his hand through his hair more than once, but what can he say? It's a tough habit to break, and he's been doing it ever since he's hand anything more than a buzz cut. Sue him.

After pleasantries about their day are discussed and Eddie appears to be more calmed down, Steve invites him upstairs for a 'surprise' that just about undoes all the poor boy's progress at once.

Because Steve didn't just place the new guitar in its case and put a bow on it to surprise Eddie. No, he propped that sucker on its stand, bought a small light to illuminate the silver and blue, and placed a little card on the case that said, 'To Eddie, from your sweetheart.'

Steve watches as Eddie physically has to reboot upon seeing it all. He then rushes to cover his ears as Eddie returns to consciousness with a full-blown yell, running over to his gift with repeated 'no way's that get higher and higher in volume with each utterance. All noise ceases when he finally reads the card, though. That's when Steve feels safe enough to drop his hands to his side and make his approach, a shy grin on his lips.

"Like it?"

"Y-You're my sweetheart?"

With a shrug, Steve once again cards a hand through his hair. "If you want me to be. I-I mean, I assumed you would want me to be with all the looks you've been giving me, a-and everything with the Upside Down. But if I've got that wrong, if...shit, maybe I should just-"

Their first kiss is messy, wet, and way too enthusiastic.

Eddie's all teeth from how wide he's smiling into the kiss, and Steve nearly falls over from the sheer force of the guy barreling into him. He grows a bit dizzy, too, from how firm Eddie's grip on his hair has him, and that does little for his already frazzled balance. But, it's perfect. It's so stupidly them and perfect and wild like Steve had hoped it to be, like Eddie hoped it to be.

Later, when Steve leaves Eddie to enjoy his guitar in peace and breathe because, yeah, he finds himself making a mental note to call Nancy when he's home. If this is what one round of highlights gets him, he'll be damned if they don't plan another round for touch ups soon.

Stepping inside, Steve catches sight of a blinking light on his answering machine that tells him Nancy'd be damned, too.

He smiles.

[milflewis]

ok but mob au

1.

“You really didn’t know who I work for?”

When Yuki found out that Pierre’s boss is the Sebastian Vettel, the Lion of Singapore, and the unofficial heir to Schumacher & Co., he had only raised his eyebrows. Pierre took that to mean he had already figured it out.

Yuki blinks at him. “No.”

“But.” Pierre frowns. “Why did you — I always have so many knives on me! Is this not weird to you?” He gestures at his jacket which hangs open, showing four different perfectly sharpened blades tucked into the lining.

Yuki shrugs. “You are French, yes? You like to cut things. Like cheese.”

Pierre mouths wordlessly. Cheese.

“Anyway,” Yuki adds. “You are weird, so. This would not be weird.”

2.

The first time Sebastian meets Lewis, his runners are wet with Michael’s blood and Lewis’s hands are pressing his head into the glass door. His face aches, nose throbbing.

“Can I help you?” he says, or tries to say. It comes out vaguely smushed.

He pushes back a little just to see. Lewis lets him move half an inch before shoving him back.

“Jesus, Hamilton,” Sebastian hears Michael say. His voice cracks roughly. Sebastian nearly cried when the doctor told him Michael survived the surgery, that they got all the bullets out and he was in recovery. He swallows thickly, as the relief makes him all dizzy even now. “I know you got out today but c’mon, let him go. This is Sebastian — I talked about him.”

The hands on Sebastian’s neck disappear and he’s rubbing at his jaw when he turns around. “Ow,” Seabastian tells Michael. His cheeks are pale and his chest is wrapped in white bandages but his eyes are alert and he is grinning.

“Sebastian, this is Lewis Hamilton. Lewis, Sebastian Vettel. Mika says we are all friends here.”

He pats Mika’s ankle that is propped up on the bed beside his hip. Mika’s eyes stay closed, arms folded in his chair, chin on his chest. There are dark bruises under his eyes under now.

“Right. If Mika says so.”

Lewis steps back towards Michael’s bed, grabbing the duffle bag from where it was leaning against the wall. Sebastian looks at his bare arms, the tattoos that go all the way down to his fingers, the rings there. His jeans sit low on his hips. He needs a shave. Sebastian recognises him from his mugshot, even of his hair is longer now and his face is more lined.

They hadn’t had the time to arrange for Michael to share a cell with someone affiliated with them, and when they had got in contact with him, a week later, he had settled in well enough with his cell mate. By Michael standards at least.

Does not talk much, Michael had told Sebastian over the phone. Likes his fucking singing though. Stares at the picture of his dog. Do you think he is lonely?

When Sebastian had brought it up with Mika, the best person for this kind of thing when Corinna is away, Mika had only shrugged, and told him that he doesn’t think it is just Hamilton that is lonely, and that of fucking course anyone who could survive nine weeks in solitary with just Fernando Alonso as company in the next cell over is someone that Michael would find interesting.

Sebastian looks away from the breadth of Lewis’s shoulders in his white tank and pulls a face at Michael’s waggling eyebrows.

3.

“How old do you think I am?” Jenson asks, as Alex adjusts his long-rifle until it sits comfortably against his shoulder, supported by the flat roof they are lying on. 

Alex doesn’t answer, because he knows exactly how old Jenson is, and the fact that people continue to tell Jenson to his face that he looks ten years older than his actual age will never stop being funny.

“Ollie, how old do you think I am?” Jenson calls.

“Jen, leave the kid alone,” Alex says. “You could dye your hair.”

“Do I look like a man who would dye his hair solely to stave off questions about his age?”

“Yes,” Alex sweeps the street below them, marking the buildings bracketing the shop they are surveilling. “Ollie, how are you doing over there?”

He can hear him scramble around for a second before a burst of static. “Radio ready for orders, sir.”

Alex grimaces, still not used to that, as Jenson only laughs beside him.

4.

“Michael? We got him.” Eddie leans back against the closed door.

Michael hums, closing his leather notebook. He leaves his fountain pen tucked into the middle so he remembers what month of intakes he was going over.

“Send him in.”

The kid’s hair is long and dirty, falling into his eyes and around his ears. His knees are all busted up under his baggy shorts. His face is drawn and thin, and he is glaring at Michael, jaw clenched.

He goes all pale when he sees who sits in front of him. Seems like he didn’t know whose car it was.

“Jesus,” Michael says. “You’re tiny, how did you reach the pedals?”

This morning, the kid — Sebastian Vettel, Michael had asked around — had hot wired Michael’s car in under two minutes and driven away. Michael had watched from the restaurant’s window, amused and impressed.

Mika had been decidedly less so when Michael told him, ten minutes later, that they were going to have to order a cab.

“I’m not that short!” The glare intensifies. His eyes are kind of freaky, Michael thinks. Very big and bright.

Michael holds out a hand, level with his chest, and squints. He lowers it considerably. Sebastian looks like he wants to bite it.

“Of course not,” Michael tells him soothingly. Eddie gives him a reproachful look. Michael holds back his eyeroll but takes his hand out of reach of Sebastian’s mouth.

“I have a job for you,” Michael says, watching Sebastian’s eyes sharpen. He smiles thinly. “If you’re up for it.”

“A job. For me? What kind of job?” Sebastian tilts his head to the side, making his eyes wide. His curls tumble across his forehead. The whole effect is rather sweet, Michael considers, delighted. This will be interesting.

Mika has been nagging at Michael to stop picking up strays but he thinks he will agree with Michael on this one.

5.

Michael stretches out his back, legs interlocked at the ankles, until something clicks along his spine. He exhales slowly, sinking back into the shitty mattress.

They called for lights out fifteen minutes ago. Lewis is still in the bunk above him. Michael looks at the scratches across the metal rods. He had a good workout today, no interruptions, and his arms are nicely sore.

Seventeen minutes.

Lewis moves in his bed, rolling over to the right and for a moment, Michael thinks he will roll right off the edge, but then he is swinging down, silent. Michael holds himself very still.

"I am not interested in fucking."

"Yeah," Lewis says. "I heard."

Michael swallows. The sharpened edge of Lewis's plastic spoon presses into his throat. Lewis is dense and solidly heavy, knees on either side of his hips, one foot digging into his knee.

Michael has seen him fight. In an enclosed space like this, and unarmed, he isn't sure who would come out the better. His fingers itch with excitement.

"I found the picture you left," Lewis says quietly. The spoon doesn't move an inch. His eyes gleam in the dark like an animal.

"Okay," Michael says, not bothering to pretend not to know what he is talking about.

Lewis was fine this morning. He hummed to himself the entire way to breakfast, and he spotted Michael in the gym without even being asked. It wasn't until after dinner that he went all weird and still in himself.

Lewis presses down, just a little. Michael raises an eyebrow.

"Is he alive?" Lewis asks like he doesn't want to show his hand but is doing so anyway. His mouth trembles at the corners. Michael frowns at him. He has seen Lewis hustle in the yard at card games enough times to know that his poker face is better than this.

"Is he."

Oh. Jesus.

Michael laughs. It is too loud of a sound for where they are. He laughs anyway.

"You have issues," he tells Lewis, who only sends him a cutting look.

"That was supposed to make you feel better! Stop crying and all. You miss him, yes? Thought I could help."

Lewis stares at him. Blinks those animal eyes.

Michael makes a frustrated sound in the back of his mouth. He misses Mika. He never has to talk when Mika is around.

"He is being taken care of in that shelter you put him in. I had my people check. I was being nice! Friendly too!"

"We're friends," Lewis says slowly as if he expects Michael to say no.

"Obviously. You are being ridiculous," Michael says. "You think I would kill a dog? No!" He is a little hurt.

"You are the chief suspect in fifteen open murders," Lewis says, flat.

"Not of dogs!"

Lewis looks at him for a long moment before rolling his eyes. "How are you still alive, man? For real? I thought it was a threat."

He pushes off Michael and pulls himself up onto the top bunk, as silent as he climbed down at the start.

"No one else would see this as a bad thing."

He can hear Lewis roll his eyes.

"Literally every other person here would think you were sending a message. And not a good one."

"I was being nice!"

There is a clang of metal against metal, and their cell bars rattle. "Oi! You two! Shut the fuck up. Save the fighting or fucking for the morning."

"Gross, man," Lewis says, and Michael kicks at the underside of his bunk. "You are gross."

Maybe Mika was right when he said that Lewis might not take his generosity in the way he wanted it, Michael considers. He decides not to tell him. He would be too smug if he did.

He palms the sharpened spoon that Lewis had held to his neck and left on his pillow, beside his cheek. It is small and narrow. Michael presses his thumb against the slice, feeling it. He smiles, and tucks it under his sheet. He had needed a new one.

+1.

Sebastian had been small when Michael met him. All eyes and bony knees and dirty hair.

Then he opened up his mouth and his personality crawled out.

Michael has never looked back.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

wish me luck, maggots, I'm going to preach good omens to irl humans.

Tomorrow I have, well, some kind of college thing... an explore the college event? Dunno what it is, exactly. A morning spent at the college where they'll discuss the courses and I'll need to interact with other students.

Also, parents are supposed to come, but mine are going to be away with work. And my brother said I needed to dye my hair black before going (with the Crowley red faded, it's now a bright ginger, kind of Bildad-coloured). He did not say this with kindness.

I'm not going to do any such thing, because fuck it. If the college can't accommodate me (not about the hair, but about my being queer and my mental health) then I'd rather know sooner, not later be caught off guard like I was the previous college.

SO MY GRAND PLAN FOR DEALING WITH IRL HUMANS TOMORROW:

I take the Good Omens book with me.

I dress as gay as I know how to. If I have to wear my bi flag as a scarf, so be it.

It won't come to that, don't worry. I tend to look gay as a default.

I carry the Good Omens book in my hands at all times.

I wait till someone asks me about it, as people tend to do at such events.

I SPREAD THE GOOD OMENS AGENDA TO THEM.

I move on to my next victim. During this process, Good Omens being the story that it is, I will make many queerphobic people very, very uncomfortable.

Good. I will tell many people I like their shoelaces. Let's see how that one goes.

Now at this point I will have made conversation with several people, but worst comes to worst, I can always just find some English students. Apparently they all, as a collective species, adore Neil Gaiman. Excellent.

If even that plan of interaction fails, and all is doomed, I will sit on a chair, look gay and mysterious, and open Tumblr and talk to you maggots instead.

A flawless plan, methinks.

Am I terrified? Absolutely, yes, and I am traumatised by my previous experiences at college.

However, I have decided to put things into perspective, and go forth not as me, Asmi, but as the Good Omens Mascot, and preach Good Omens to everyone, and then get the fuck out of there. This is a lot more manageable.

...anyway, so, yes. Wish me luck. Wahoo?

[enkas-illusion]

Double Trouble

Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Gojo Satoru x f!reader

Rating: SFW

Genre/Theme: Established relationship; non-sorcery au

Content warning: fluff, suggestive, no smut, language.

Summary: Boyfriend!Satoru with a twin and they're exact copies of each other, down to their mannerism so they often switch places just to test how long it takes for you to figure out you're talking to the other one.

Author's Note: The one where he isn’t the only Honoured one. I hope you enjoy this one shot. Thank you for reading! 

~ Eren’s Birdie

Song Dedication: Say Yes by Loco, Punch

Satoru Gojo was everything you could've asked for in a partner. He was kind, funny, intelligent, sexy, and had better emotional maturity than most men despite being somewhat of a nihilist in his own way – perfect was the word to describe him.

The only problem was that he was a bit too much to handle at times, or dare one say, a bit *too many, – meaning his mother gave birth to him and thought ‘he's perfect!’ so she popped another xerox copy 2 minutes later.

And thus were born Satoru and Soichiro, the most identical twins in the history of twins. The two not only shared the same face but had gained quite some notoriety among friends and family for sharing the same brain cell as well. 

While you had no reason to complain about their flawless personalities, they'd taken a liking to mess with you each time they got together. One would think they'd go easy with the pranks if it's someone they love, right? Wrong! It meant the shit you had to endure was way worse than any other normal friend would have to.

On one such instance, Soichiro tagged along with Satoru after work and it wasn't until halfway through dinner that your instinct went off and you figured out it was the twin who was sitting next to you instead of your boyfriend as usual. Later that night, you'd warned Satoru about it, presenting a solid argument even he couldn't resist.

“You know I almost grabbed his thigh under the table tonight!”

“No, you didn't,” Satoru scoffed.

“Okay, maybe not. But it’s highly likely that I could've! Ummm… what if one day you return home and I greet you in some skimpy lingerie but instead of you, it’s your brother who sees me, all titties out???” You were grasping at straws really.

“Will you do that!?” His ears perked up.

“Not the point, Toru…”

“Hmm… okay fine, I won't let it get that far,” he assured you. 

“But you'll still continue to tease me?” You huffed and he nodded his head, smiling innocently. You rolled your eyes at him, complaining about how he was the ‘worst’ while he simply gave you a bear hug and a few kisses to make it up to you.

~~~

So, even after being with Satoru for more than a year, you still did not know how to distinguish between the two. The only people to do so in a split-second were his parents. You had once sat the twins down to compare their faces for any tiny details you might’ve missed but you came up short regardless. 

You could only tell the difference by instinct, after having a conversation with them – maybe you were more delusional than you'd like to admit but to you, Satoru's voice held a lot of love each time he called your name.

In an attempt to distinguish the two, you thought you'd successfully managed to get Satoru to dye his hair black with temporary colour last time you went to their family house, only to find out Soichiro had done the same and was waiting for you, waving his arm at you in the driveway with a victorious grin.

So when you don't find the twin greeting you like a devil inviting you to hell this time, you turn to your boyfriend who's undoing his seatbelt.

“Listen to me, Satoru,” you grab his collar to turn him to look at you as you speak in a serious tone, “Please don't fuck with me this time. One of these days, I might really embarrass myself due to your games.”

“I'm betting on it baby,” he grins as he gives you a quick peck before swiftly making his way out of the car to avoid your scolding. You were going to stay at his parents’ country house for a weekend and you could already tell it was going to be a long weekend.

You sigh as you grab your bag and he opens the door for you before pulling the bag out of your hand and holding his hand out for you. It's impossible to be annoyed at Satoru for long when he pulls shit like this.

When you enter the house, Satoru excuses himself to find his father and you make your way to the backyard garden where you guess his mother might be. You smile to yourself when your guess is right.

“How can I help?” You smile, making his mother turn to look at you. She gently puts the shovel down next to the plants she's depotting.

“Hello dear, you've arrived just in time… would you mind bringing the remaining pots? They’re near the window in the reading room,” she instructs and you nod as you make your way back inside.

You walk the long corridor before you reach your destination, making your way to the window where the pots were placed. You lift two in each hand, holding them with care, trying not to drop them or stain your t-shirt. 

“Need some help?” you hear a voice and turn around to see the other twin at the door. The only reason you can tell it's Soichiro is because he's wearing a grey t-shirt and black sweatpants as opposed to your boyfriend who was wearing a purple hoodie and coal grey pants. 

“Hey Sochi, could you pick the last one?” You motion your head in the direction of the last pot, “Gotta move it to the garden.”

He nods before picking up the pot and walking with you, back to the backyard garden. 

“Did you arrive before us? I didn't see your car in the driveway,” you make conversation along the way.

“My car's out for servicing. I arrived with the mothership yesterday when she was in town shopping,” he explains.

“Hmm…” you nod as you stop near the area where the soil has been rooted out of the ground, “here.” 

You motion to him to keep the pot down and he obeys as he leans down to place them there gently. You're busy looking around to find Mrs. Gojo when you hear him speak, “Anything else, princes–”

Your eyes widen as your head snaps back to look at him.

“SATORU!” you gasp at the nickname that accidentally slips out of your boyfriend's name, making you realise it's not his twin.

“Soichiro! Leave my poor girl alone,” the other blondie walks out wearing the exact same clothes. You look between the two as you stare in disbelief, not being able to tell who's who.

You're about to speak when you hear their mom's voice as she moves closer to you, pressing an arm gently around your shoulder, “Satoru… I'd expect you of all people to be nice to her,” shaking her head at the twin standing next to you.

You were right! The twin next to you is Satoru!

“No, it's okay! The best way to deal with them is to avoid both of them the entire weekend,” you give your boyfriend the fakest smile you can muster up as you walk hand in hand with his mother to fulfil your gardening duties.

As it's the only exact identical matching outfit the twins have, they don't mind wearing it all weekend. As the day progresses, you find yourself working your brain full time to notice any difference you can find, but the guys are relentless to the point where even their sleeves are rolled to the exact same length.

And of course, the whole day is spent the way you’d dreaded and almost predicted it’d be like. Later when you’re out on the porch having coffee and watching the sunset with your boyfriend, you notice Satoru has an insect bite on the side of his wrist.

“Toru?” you question, wanting to make sure you have the right twin next to you.

“Hmm?” he peels his eyes away from the pretty sunset to look at you. 

“Kiss me?” you ask softly.

“Wha– is this a test?” He raises an eyebrow.

“You know what, nevermind… I just felt like it cause this is the first time we’ve been alone all d–” your words are cut off by his lips capturing yours. You smile into the kiss as Satoru cups your face, caressing your cheek.

Satoru check completed! You make a mental note to observe his wrist for the mark each time you interact with the twins.

After dinner when everyone's lazing around in the living room and watching whatever reality tv show is playing in the background, you excuse yourself to go to the washroom. Roaming around, you end up in Satoru's old bedroom. It's endearing seeing how you can still find pieces of his current personality, likes, hobbies and interests in bits, plastered everywhere around his room.

You find yourself craving some alone time with your boyfriend all of a sudden so you pull your phone out to text him to come up to his room. You only have to wait a few minutes before you hear a knock on the door.

“It's open,” you say as you place the book that you were holding back on the shelf. With a big grin, you extend your arm out to him and he takes it.

“Hello, darling,” he says in a playful tone and your eyes briefly glance at his wrist. No mark. It's Soichiro. He pulls you into a hug and pats your head.

Fine. If your boyfriend still wants to mess with you even when you’re needy for him, he's gonna get his payback. You decide at that moment – this switcharoo bullshit stops today.

You smile innocently at Soichiro as you pull away, your hands travel up to his chest to push him back till he falls on the bed.

You hop on top of him to straddle him but are careful enough to not actually make any sort of inappropriate contact, hovering above without closing the gap between your bodies. You simply wanted to push him enough to get him uncomfortable and to confess.

You can see the nervousness on his face as he clears his throat to come up with an excuse to get out of this situation without making it awkward, “T-the door’s open, let me–”

“It’s just us Toru… I doubt anyone’s gonna bother coming up to find us anyway,” you purr as you lean your body forward, placing your palms on the sides of his head to support your weight. You start feeling anxious too, you need him to break soon or you’d have to abandon the act, so you persist and whisper in his ear, “You look so sexy, I’ve been wanting to feel you inside me all day, Satoru.”

You cringe internally at your own words. But in that moment, you can see his face get paler than it usually is and you want to laugh at how nervous he looks when he hits his limit at your lewd comments.

“Wait, I’m no–” Soichiro pushes you by the shoulders as he begins in panic, another voice interrupts, pushing the half-open door forcefully, “Baby, wait!”

You feel a large arm hook around your waist to pull you away. As you stumble to your feet, breaking free from his hold, you turn around to see an annoyed Satoru, knitting his eyebrows as he looks at you. He looks more annoyed at himself than at you.

“Satoru?” you question as you bring up a hand to his cheek.

“Yes, baby?” he asks in that loving tone you’re so used to as he wraps his arms around your waist tighter.

You smile as you caress his cheek, trying hard to hold in your laughter, “What… A… Dumbass!”

You burst out laughing as you break free from his embrace and he stares at you in disbelief. You look from him to Soichiro, who’s already stood up from the bed as you hold your stomach, hurting from laughing so much, “That should teach you both!”

“Well then, I’m gonna go watch tv with the only two sensible people in this house,” you wave the baffled twins goodbye and turn around to leave the room. The very next second, you’re taken by surprise when you feel a hand grab your wrist to keep you from moving.

You turn around to see that your boyfriend seems… mad at you?

“Sochi, do you mind? I wanna talk to her alone,” Satoru motions his brother to leave the room.

“Yikes, just keep it quiet,” the twin chuckles in embarrassment as he walks out hastily. You hear the door close behind you before footsteps recede down the hallway.

You look at Satoru, expecting him to speak up. But your boyfriend simply grabs both of your wrists before twisting them behind your back and closes the distance between your bodies.

“Waitttt… is this Toru or Sochi? It is impossible to tell!” your words are dry and sarcastic as you giggle at him.

“Baby, I don’t think you’re in a position to be laughing at me right now,” he towers over you, his grip on your waists tightening.

“But here we are! I told you not to mess with me,” you chuckle as you try to wriggle your wrists out of his grip.

“And I’ve warned you not to press my buttons… or do I need to remind you again?” he grunts as he flips you around, walking you to the bed till your knees hit the edge of the bed, making you stumble on the mattress with him behind you. He brings a hand to the back of your head to press your face down into the mattress and you take this opportunity to try to hold him. He tsks at your movement before moving away from your completely.

You flip your body around to lie on your back and see what’s going on, only to find him rummaging through his closet. When Satoru turns around to walk back towards the bed, you notice two ties in his hands. 

This isn’t how you’d expected your little prank to turn out but you definitely weren’t complaining. However, just as Satoru straddles you, grabbing your wrists, his phone buzzes in his pocket.

“What?” he groans into the speaker.

“Mum’s calling you both downstairs,” you hear Soichiro’s voice on the other end.

You press your lips together to keep yourself from laughing as Satoru groans once again before cutting the call with a ‘be right there’.

“I think god sent a guardian angel disguised as your mom for me,” you chuckle as you sit up, making your way out from under him.

“You’re lucky,” Satoru grabs your jaw, “but don’t get ahead of yourself, guardian angel can't save you past her bedtime.”

You poke your tongue out to tease him, breaking free and springing out of the bed, mumbling a ‘whatever’, walking out towards the living room. 

As you make your way back down the hall, you hear your boyfriend’s footsteps behind you. You smile to yourself as you begin to brew different ideas of riling him up further throughout the night.

~fin~

[sassenach77yle]

“You thought you were dying when we brought you up here, didn’t you?” I asked. My voice sounded more bewildered than accusing. It took him a moment to answer, though he didn’t look hesitant. It was more as though he was looking for the proper words. “Well, I didna ken for sure, no,” he said slowly. “Though I did feel verra ill.” His eyes closed, slowly, as though he were too tired to keep them open. “I still do,” he added, in a detached sort of voice.

“Ye needna worry, though—I’ve made my choice.”

“What on earth do you mean by that?” I groped beneath the covers, and found his wrist. He was warm; hot again, in fact, and with a pulse that was too fast, too shallow. Still, it was so different from the deathly chill I had felt in him the night before that my first reaction was relief. He took a couple of deep breaths, then turned his head and opened his eyes to look at me. “I mean I could have died last night.” He could, certainly—and yet that wasn’t what he meant. He made it sound like a conscious— “What do you mean you’ve made your choice? You’ve decided not to die, after all?” I tried to speak lightly, but it wasn’t working very well. I remembered all too well that odd sense of timeless stillness that had surrounded us. “It was verra strange,” he said. “And yet it wasna strange at all.” He sounded faintly surprised.

“I think,” I said carefully, keeping a thumb on his pulse, “you’d better tell me just what happened.” He actually smiled at that, though the smile was more in his eyes than his lips. Those were dry, and painfully cracked in the corners. I touched his lips with a finger, wanting to go and fetch some soothing ointment for him, some water, some tea—but I put aside the impulse, steeling myself to stay and hear. “I dinna really know, Sassenach—or rather, I do, but I canna think quite how to say it.” He still looked tired, but his eyes stayed open. They lingered on my face, a vivid blue in the morning light, with an expression almost of curiosity, as though he hadn’t seen me before.

“You are so beautiful,” he said, softly. “So verra beautiful, mo chridhe.”

My hands were covered with fading blue blotches and overlooked smears of buffalo blood, I could feel my hair clinging in unwashed tangles to my neck, and I could smell everything from the stale-urine odor of dye to the reek of fear-sweat on my body. And yet whatever he saw lit his face as though he were looking at the full moon on a summer night, pure and lovely. His eyes stayed fixed on my face as he talked, absorbed, moving slightly as they seemed to trace my features. “I felt verra badly indeed when Arch and Roger Mac brought me up,” he said. “Terribly sick, and my leg and my head both throbbing with each heartbeat, so much that I began to dread the next. And so I would listen to the spaces between. Ye wouldna think it,” he said, sounded vaguely surprised, “but there is a great deal of time between the beats of a heart.” He had, he said, begun to hope, in those spaces, that the next beat would not come. And slowly, he realized that his heart was indeed slowing—and that the pain was growing remote, something separate from himself. His skin had grown colder, the fever fading from both body and mind, leaving the latter oddly clear. “And this is where I canna really say, Sassenach.” He pulled his wrist from my grip in the intensity of his story, and curled his fingers over mine. “But I . . . saw.” “Saw what?” And yet I already knew that he couldn’t tell me. Like any doctor, I had seen sick people make up their minds to die—and I knew that look they sometimes had; eyes wide-fixed on something in the distance. He hesitated, struggling to find words. I thought of something, and jumped in to try to help. “There was an elderly woman,” I said. “She died in the hospital where I was on staff—all her grown children with her, it was very peaceful.” I looked down, my own eyes fixed on his fingers, still red and slightly swollen, interlaced with my own stained and bloody digits. “She died—she was dead, I could see her pulse had stopped, she wasn’t breathing. All her children were by her bedside, weeping. And then, quite suddenly, her eyes opened. She wasn’t looking at any of them, but she was seeing something. And she said, quite clearly, ‘Oooh!’ Just like that—thrilled, like a little girl who’s just seen something wonderful. And then she closed her eyes again.” I looked up at him, blinking back tears. “Was it—like that?” He nodded, speechless, and his hand tightened on mine. “Something like,” he said, very softly. He had felt oddly suspended, in a place he could by no means describe, feeling completely at peace—and seeing very clearly. “It was as if there was a—it wasna a door, exactly, but a passageway of some kind—before me. And I could go through it, if I wanted. And I did want to,” he said, giving me a sideways glance and a shy smile. He had known what lay behind him, too, and realized that for that moment, he could choose. Go forward—or turn back. “And that’s when you asked me to touch you?” “I knew ye were the only thing that could bring me back,” he said simply. “I didna have the strength, myself.” There was a huge lump in my throat; I couldn’t speak, but squeezed his hand very tight. “Why?” I asked at last. “Why did you . . . choose to stay?” My throat was still tight, and my voice was hoarse. He heard it, and his hand tightened on mine; a ghost of his usual firm grip, and yet with the memory of strength within it. “Because ye need me,” he said, very softly. “Not because you love me?” He looked up then, with a shadow of a smile.

“Sassenach . . . I love ye now, and I will love ye always. Whether I am dead—or you—whether we are together or apart. You know it is true,” he said quietly, and touched my face. “I know it of you, and ye know it of me as well.”

He bent his head then, the bright hair swinging down across his cheek. “I didna mean only you, Sassenach. I have work still to do. I thought—for a bit—that perhaps it wasna so; that ye all might manage, with Roger Mac and auld Arch, Joseph and the Beardsleys. But there is war coming, and—for my sins—” he grimaced slightly, “I am a chief.” He shook his head slightly, in resignation. “God has made me what I am. He has given me the duty—and I must do it, whatever the cost.”

“The cost,” I echoed uneasily, hearing something harsher than resignation in his voice. He looked at me, then glanced, almost off-handed, toward the foot of the bed. “My leg’s no much worse,” he said, matter-of-factly, “but it’s no better. I think ye’ll have to take it off.”

The fiery cross

[just-jordie-things]

[part three] to build a home - gojo satoru

word count: 3.6k warnings: !!manga spoilers!! swearing, jjk-verse style fighting series summary: when (y/n) (y/l/n) catches wind that the notorious sorcerer killer, toji fushiguro, has children, she makes it her personal mission to find them. the catch being she couldn't tell a soul about them- the risk of the zen'in clan learning about them was too great. keeping the secret isn't the hard part, it's lying to her friends, shoko ieiri, geto suguru, and of course gojo satoru, that she struggles with. especially when satoru has suddenly become so keen on keeping an eye on her lately.

series masterlist

[part three] : "Learning To Lie"

___

“I never thought I’d see the Gojo Satoru get soft,” Shoko’s giggling as she took a drag of her cigarette.  Her shoulders shake and her eyes close as she beams at the thought.  “It’s only a matter of time now until you dye that stupid hair too, huh?” She suggests, blowing out the smoke in her lungs.

Suguru’s head is thrown back in laughter, happily partaking in the tease-fest.

“I think black would be cooler.  Like mine” He says.

Shoko coos and hums in agreement, looking back at Gojo as if to picture a new look in her mind.

“I’m not coloring my hair, idiots,” He mutters, turning away from them and waving a dismissive hand.  “I look perfect” 

Suguru snorts at how humble his best friend was.

“So you admit you’ve grown a little soft spot for our resident (y/n)?” He asks, a muse in his tone as he shares a look with Shoko.

“We’ve always been friends.  I don’t know why you’re having a giggle parade over us hanging out.  I hang out with you guys all the time, you think I’m in love with you?” 

Shoko purses her lips, passing her cigarette to Suguru.

“Yes,” She says, decidedly.  “But I think you like (y/n) better” 

Satoru has to fight the urge to defend himself too much, because he knows if he argues with them too much, their suspicions will only be raised tenfold.

“She’s definitely better company than you two right now” He grumbles, leaning back against the wall.

He wasn’t even a smoker, but when Shoko and Suguru would head off for a cigarette break, more often than not he’d follow.  Sometimes (y/n) would be here.  And when she was, he could focus his attention on messing with her.  Otherwise when it was just these two, they ganged up against him.

Speaking of- 

“Where is (y/n) anyways?” Satoru asks.

Shoko and Suguru share another suggestive look, chuckling to themselves.  Satoru wasn’t sure when they took such entertainment in meddling with his love life, but it was starting to irritate him.  All the looks, and the giggling, it was going to drive him crazy.

“She said something about having to go to a bookstore in town,” Shoko said.  “Sounded boring” 

“Miss your little training buddy already?” Suguru asks.

“She went to town by herself?” Satoru frowned.

“Relax, she literally just needed a book,” Shoko says, taking her cigarette back from Suguru.  “I think she’s capable of a little errand” 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” He sighs.  “It’s just weird that she’d go alone.  We all had the day free” 

“Then go hang out with her if you want” Shoko suggests.

“Yeah, then we can talk about you guys” Suguru pipes up.

They’re laughing amongst themselves again, and Satoru thinks it’s not such a bad idea.  Kicking off the wall, he raises his hand in a peace sign and leaves without a word.

He can still hear their childish giggles as he walks away. ___

Breaking into the elementary school once it had closed and the staff had left for the day had been easy enough.  In fact, it was probably the easiest part of her whole investigation, which was odd since it was the first actual crime (y/n) had committed.

Not that commiting said crime fazed her too much.  She was doing this for the greater good after all.

The tricky part was finding what she was looking for.  The filing cabinets in the administrator’s office took up an entire wall, so finding two student’s information was going to take a minute.

She raised her phone’s flashlight and quickly began to read the labels on each cabinet.

Payroll.  Emergency Contacts.  Lunch Schedules.  Event Budgeting.

And then finally, Student Files.

With a grin, she quickly pulled open the first drawer with this label, and went flipping through the alphabetized files.

Just as she found where F was filed, her phone buzzed.

She nearly dropped it from the surprise, before she quickly silenced her ringtone, cursing whoever needed to call her right now.  Didn’t they know she was trying not to get caught literally breaking and entering? 

Well, no, no one did.  Maybe she should have turned her phone to silent before she broke in.

Seeing that it was Satoru calling, she knew better than to decline, so with a sigh, she answered, pressing her phone between her shoulder and her ear.

“Hey!” He greeted her happily.  “What’re you up to?”

She told Shoko she was shopping today.  So she had to stick to her story and tell him the same thing.

“I’m in town, what’s up?” She replied, keeping it short.

“Nothing.  Want company? Suguru and Shoko are being annoying and I kind of feel like avoiding them,” He tells her.  

Her heart feels warm that he wanted to spend time with her, but she bites her lip and tries to find a reason why he couldn’t come see her.

“We could grab lunch.  Or if you’ve already eaten we can get ice cream.  Either way my treat” 

(y/n) smiles to herself.

“That’s sweet, Satoru, but,” She hesitates, eyes wandering through the files in front of her.  “I already ate, and I’m still looking for that pair of headphones I saw online,” 

It’s quiet for a minute on his end, and she hopes she hasn’t hurt his feelings.

“But thank you for thinking of me.  We can hang out tomorrow, or something, if you have time” 

“Sure,” He replies, but his voice sounds off.  Almost rigid.  “Bye” 

With that, he hangs up on her.  (y/n) frowns as she pulls her phone from her ear, seeing the call end and her lock screen wallpaper light up.  She can only hope that he isn’t too upset.

She drops the thought quickly, and goes back to thumbing through the file folders.

It’s a matter of seconds before she finds what she’s looking for.  Fushiguro.

She snatches the file, her face split in a grin.  Victory!

With great haste she flipped through every page, snapping a photo of each one.  Once finished, she carefully placed everything back where she found it, slid out the window she’d so craftily unlocked when she’d broken in, closed it behind her, and left the scene.

If committing crime really was that easy, she wonders why more people don’t do it.

Maybe she’d keep that thought to herself.

As she casually slipped herself into the crowd of people, eyes glued to her phone as she studied the photos of the files she’d just stolen, she completely missed a familiar figure approaching.

“(y/n)?” 

Her eyes darted up, face paling slightly, surprised that anyone had recognized her.

And there was Haibara Yu, with that infamous cheery smile and a wave as he approached her.  He was in street clothes, and a small bag was held at his side.

“Yu!” Her voice came out a little louder than intended from her surprise.  She cleared her throat, and hoped that he didn’t find her acting strange.  “What’re you up to today?” 

“Just needed to get a gift for my sister,” He said, holding up the shopping bag in his hand.  “Her birthday is next weekend” 

“Sweet of you,” (y/n) smiled at the gesture.  “Tell her I said happy birthday” 

Yu nods, and she knows that despite having never met his sister- who probably didn’t know who she was- that he would relay the message.  He was a good guy like that, always putting people’s happiness first.  (y/n) admired that about the second year.

“So, what are you up to?” He asks.

She knows the question isn’t meant to be interrogative, that he’s genuinely curious about her day.  (y/n) bristles nonetheless.

“Just some shopping” She shrugs, trying to be as casual as she could, so as not to raise any suspicion.  

Although now that she thinks about it, and sees his kind smile as he talks to her, she thinks that she could never make him suspicious of her.  Yu was a grade younger than her, so it wasn’t often that they crossed paths.  Only in the halls of Jujutsu Tech, or if they happened to be working out at the same time.  But Yu had always made a point to talk to her, to befriend her and treat her well.  She’d found it endearing, how his kindness poured out of him, even when he was running late and Kento would be pulling him by the collar of his shirt, dragging him away, he’d always bid her goodbye with the well wish of having a good day.

Thinking about it now, (y/n) wondered if he had a little crush on her, or if he was always that pleasant with everyone.  She smiles warmly at the thought, either way. 

“Well, uh, do you want any company?” The dark haired boy asks, his hand raising to the back of his neck nervously.  “I’m all wrapped up, I don’t mind joining you, if- if you want” 

For a brief moment- so fleeting the thought left as soon as it presented itself- she wondered if Gojo had sent him.  After their strange phone call, she couldn’t help but notice Yu had asked the same question as Satoru after all.

She brushed off the paranoid idea quickly.  Yu was too kind to be sent as a spy.  Besides, she hadn’t been so shady in her excuses to Satoru to result in him sending an informer her way, she was certain.

“You’re too kind,” (y/n) flashed a dazzling smile.  “But I’m just about wrapped up myself, I was just going to get something, uh, a bit private, if you don’t mind,” She feigns bashfulness as she averts her eyes after telling him her errand.

Yu’s face drops and his ears turn a light shade of pink, and (y/n) mentally applauds herself for having succeeded in making him believe her little lie.

“Oh- oh, right, of course,” The boy stammered.  “Will you be long? I could wait for you, so you don’t have to walk back alone” 

“That’s alright, it’s my last stop,” (y/n) says, waving a dismissive hand in front of her.  “No need to worry about me” 

Yu nods, tucking his hands into his pockets as he lowers his gaze, hiding the disappointment in his features.  

“If you insist,” He says.  “I know your friends would be upset with me if I didn’t even offer,” 

You’re probably right, (y/n) thinks as she chuckles quietly.

“And I don’t need Gojo beating me up for leaving you out here alone” 

“He wouldn’t do such a thing,” (y/n) says with certainty.  “I’m not a stranger to Tokyo.  And I can handle myself just fine,” 

She begins to pass by him, patting his shoulder in a friendly manner as she does. 

“Have a safe walk back” She tells him.

“Yeah.  You too” Yu smiles, giving her a small wave as he walks off in the direction he was heading before he’d run into her.

(y/n) checks over her shoulder a few moments later, just to be sure that he was going back to the school, and he wasn’t following her.  Her eyes scan the small crowd of people wandering the sidewalks and peeking into shops.  When she doesn’t see the familiar student, her mind is at ease, and she goes back to her phone.

With the address of Megumi and Tsumiki Fushiguro’s home displayed before her, she follows her map. ___

“I saw (y/n) while I was in town” Yu mentions, picking at the box of food before him.

Kento, sat across from him at the table they shared, looked up from his own meal.  This wasn’t a casual mention.  It never was when he talked about (y/n).  It was almost getting tiring, hearing his friend go into that dreamy voice as he shares the most meaningless interaction he’d had with the third year girl.

“That so?” He replied anyway.  Might as well get it over with.

“Yeah,” Yu hummed in delight, the smile on his face was glued there.  “She was shopping” 

So interesting, Kento thinks bitterly, but he doesn’t dare say it out loud.  Yu’s crush on the older sorcerer might have been a bit far-fetched, but he was a good friend, so if he wanted to gush about her, he’d listen.

“Surprised you didn’t stay in town with her,” Kento says instead.  “Seemed like a good opportunity for one-on-one time, hm?” 

“I know.  I offered,” Yu sighs.  “But she was- uh- kinda busy” He chuckles nervously.

Kento raises a brow, silently asking what that was all about. Yu rubs the nape of his neck.

“She said she was shopping for something private” He confesses.

Kento hums, finally turning his attention back to his lunch.

“Whatever that means” 

“I didn’t ask,” Yu shrugs his shoulders.  “I didn’t want to overstep” 

It’s quiet for a minute as the pair nibble on their food.  Yu’s mind was buzzing with thoughts of the girl he’d run into, how pretty she looked in her street clothes, how kindly she spoke and smiled.  His eyes glazed over as he got lost in his thoughts.  He almost didn’t hear the footsteps of a third year approaching the table.

“Hey, you gonna pass out?”

Yu blinked until his vision of reality was restored, looking up to see Gojo Satoru leaning over the table, overly-invading both Yu’s and Kento’s personal space as he grinned at the daydreaming boy.

“He’s fine,” Kento muttered, leaning back from the table a bit to put some distance between him and the overbearing Six Eyes user.  “He’s just daydreaming about (y/n)”

Behind his sunglasses, Satoru blinks, his eyes twitching in the slightest.  But the ridiculous grin he wore didn’t falter as he continued to stare down the younger boy.

(Had Yu seen the jealous look in the eyes of Gojo Satoru himself, he probably would have pissed his pants)

“That so?” Satoru asks.  His voice was steady, almost too steady, and Yu swallows nervously, nodding his head.  “Didn’t know you had a little crush on our little hex” 

Curiously, Nanami eyes the way Gojo keeps his expression and demeanor remain perfectly rigid.  He’d barely moved a muscle, even as he spoke, he did so through that psychotic grin.  It was easy to see through this act.  He wondered if Yu thought the same.

“I- I dunno if I’d call it a- a crush,” Yu stammers.  “I was j-just telling Nanami that I’d run into her earlier” 

That made Gojo drop the false grin on his face, his brows suddenly furrowing.  Suddenly, he leaned back, out of the younger sorcerer’s personal space.

“Just now?” He asked.

Yu nodded his head in an anxious fashion, too nervous to open his mouth.  Nanami had said enough on his behalf to make the white haired sorcerer all too interested in their conversation.

“In town?” Satoru clarified.

Yu nodded again.

“Y-yeah,” He stumbled over his words.  “She was shopping” 

I know that.  Satoru’s teeth grind together to keep him from spitting out an attitude he doesn’t mean.

“Ah, Yu,” He shook his head, chuckling.

His demeanor had returned to it’s usual teasing presentation, but Yu’s anxiety remained on high alert.  This whole interaction was making his stomach churn, like he’d done something wrong and he hoped Gojo wouldn’t find out.  Although, he’s not very sure what mistake he had made.

“Couldn’t have been a gentleman and walked my girl home for me?” 

Finally, Yu’s brain caught up with where Nanami’s was.  This wasn’t anger, he realized.  This was jealousy.

That was much, much worse.

Yu feared for his life.

“I- I didn’t- she was- I wasn’t trying to-” 

“Mhm, of course,” Gojo nods, and reaches out to place a hand on the boy’s shoulder.  Yu shuts his mouth instantly, his eyes wide as saucers as he stares directly at him.  “Don’t worry, I’m just pulling your leg a little” Gojo chuckles.

Yu huffs out a nervous laugh himself, trying to catch his breath and slow down his rapidly beating heart.

Nanami continues to sit in silence, watching the whole display with the eyes of a hawk.

“Okay,” Yu breathes out once he’s calmed down a little inside.  “She just had something private to shop for, I was trying to be, ya’know, considerate” 

The twitch in Satoru’s eye was starting to get annoying.  Private? He latched onto the word.  First she tells Shoko she’s book shopping.  Then gives him some bullshit excuse about headphones.  And now Yu is here telling him a third thing that didn’t match up in his head.  His finger began to tap against Yu’s shoulder, before he pulled his hand off, shoving it into his pocket.

“Of course you were, you little gentleman,” He pulls out his teasing tone.  “But do me a favor, Haibara?” 

“Sure?”

Before he can say anything, Geto Suguru enters the room, calling Gojo’s attention.  The man turns away from Yu for a moment, holding his finger up to his friend, and then turning back to the younger sorcerer.

“Next time,” He says in a chipper tone that seemed like anything but.  “Try to do the right thing, and walk her home, yeah?”

He was sure to lower his shades so that his eyes could pierce right through Yu’s soul.

Yu chokes on air, nodding his head at an aggressive speed.

“Of course.  I will.  I’m sorry” 

Gojo claps his hand on his shoulder one more time.

“Have a good lunch, guys!” He gives the pair a friendly wave before heading back over to Suguru.

Yu’s jaw drops as he finally looks over to Nanami, fear deep in his eyes.

“Why would you tell him that?” He squeaked out.  “I thought he was going to kill me!” 

Nanami shrugged, taking a bite of his food, chewing thoughtfully.

“How was I to know he had a thing for her?” He muttered.

Suguru had only seen a little bit of Satoru’s interaction with the second years, but he’d seen enough to know something was up.

As they walked out of the dining hall, he supposed he could indulge in a little drama.

“So, what was that about?” He mused, an eager smile on his lips.  “Not like you to threaten a kid like Haibara” 

“I wasn’t threatening him” Satoru brushed off the comment, adjusting his sunglasses to sit properly on his nose.

“Could’ve fooled me” 

“You see (y/n) at all today?” Satoru changed the subject.

Suguru raised a brow, although his friend was ignoring his look.

“No” He replied. 

The white haired sorcerer let out a huff.

“That what this is about? (y/n)?”

Satoru doesn’t say anything.

“So it is,” Suguru grins.  “What is it this time? She take a liking to Haibara?” 

“He saw her in town” Gojo finally gives him something to work with, but Suguru raises his brows, surprised that his little display of dominance was over something so mundane.

“Yes, well.  Other people who have eyes will probably look at her,” Suguru remarks.

Satoru looks over at him with a dull glare behind his shades.

“Don’t you think you probably scared poor Haibara over nothing?” 

“He said she told him she was shopping.  For something private” 

This explanation does nothing to give Suguru an understanding on why his friend was acting more unhinged than usual.

“You think maybe it’s time to take a break from all these missions you’ve been accepting?” He asks, half-sarcastically.  “I think your head’s gettin’ a little messed up” 

“She told Shoko that she was shopping for a book,” Satoru ignores the comment.  “And when I called her, she told me she was shopping for headphones.  Something she saw online, I guess,” 

Suguru doesn’t say anything this time.  He still thinks Satoru might be overreacting a bit, but clearly, he was having a full on episode over this.

“And then I find Yu, who says she was shopping for something private, and that was why she didn’t want him joining her” 

His brows are furrowed in a knot as he processes all the information he’d just shared with Suguru.  It was all so strange.  (y/n) wasn’t one to lie, mostly because she wasn’t very good at it.  But her shady behavior today puzzled him greatly.

“Satoru,” Suguru stops in his tracks, turning to look at his friend directly.  “(y/n) isn’t a liar.  She sucks at it” 

“Yeah, I know-” 

“So do you think, maybe, she was out shopping for all of those things?�� He suggests, like it’s some genius idea he’d just had.  “And maybe she just wanted a little alone time? Maybe she didn’t want Haibara’s company, and that’s why she sent him away?” 

“I mean, maybe, but-” 

“You’re overworking your head.  It’s not good for you,” Suguru chuckles.  “I’m surprised it hasn’t popped right off yet” 

Satoru rolls his eyes dramatically.

“I didn’t know it was a crime to be worried about a friend-” 

“You’re worried about her because you’re jealous that Yu has a massive crush on her” Suguru barks out a laugh.

“You knew that?” 

“Everyone knows that,” Suguru replies.  “But if you’re so worried, if (y/n) returned his affections, don’t you think she would’ve done something about it by now?” He suggested.  “Exactly,” He spoke again before Satoru could begrudgingly agree.  “They’re just friends.  So don’t go around scaring the under-classmen because you got a little jealous.  It’s not a good look on you” 

“Everything’s a good look on me,” Satoru cheekily clicks his tongue.  “And I’m not jealous of a second year” 

Suguru scoffs in disbelief, shaking his head as he turns to continue their walk.

The bastard was jealous of anyone who looked at (y/n) in any way.  Yu was lucky to have his life. ___

taglist: @whats-humanity-lol@malinq-ashida@mor-pheus@bekahtaylorgriggs@pookiea@megumimind​ @thealchemical @pearlstiare​ @niallerhere @96jnie @purpleguk​

message me if you want to be added to the taglist **if ur in italics tumblr wouldn't let me tag u!!**

xoxo - jordie

[sissylittlefeather]

How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 10

A/N: Thank you for your patience as I got wrapped up writing everything but this. I knew this chapter would be a tough one, so I kept putting it off. But I hope you all enjoy it. If you haven't been paying attention, this is the soulmate/time travel AU between Elvis and a fem!reader. It's still 2016/1966.

Need to catch up? Here is my Masterlist

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (m receiving) masturbation, use of sex toys, overstimulation, squirting, dirty talk, and angst.

Word count: ~3.5k

"Yes."

******

You've taken a short leave of absence from work because of everything you've been going through, so you get to spend the next few weeks just having fun with Elvis.

And that's exactly what you do. It drives him crazy that all his money is back in 1966 and he can't buy you a ring, but otherwise you're very happy together. Luckily, your job pays well, so you don't have to worry about that much. You offer to buy your own ring, but he refuses to let that happen. Instead, he gives you his watch to wear and insists he's going to get a job.

"I think I'd like to apply for the police academy." He says shyly over dinner one night.

"That sounds like a great idea! We need to find a way to get you a social security card, though. We can't use anything that says you were born in 1935."

"I didn't even think about that."

"It's okay. I have a former client that might be able to help us."

And sure enough, knowing criminals pays off. You manage to get a birth certificate that says he was born in '85 and use that to get him the rest of his credentials. Everything is going well when you go back to work. He gets a short-term job at Guitar Center just for something to do before he applies for the academy. Secretly, he loves it. He learns a lot from the kids he works with and before too long he's an expert in everything in the store. It's strange to admit it, but he's enjoying just being "John" and not having to be Elvis Presley.

One day, he looks in the mirror and almost has a heart attack. You come up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist.

"What is it, babe?"

"My hair. It's growing out. And turning light again." You can tell this bothers him. And that he refuses to acknowledge the grays that are mixed in.

"Well, get it cut. We do still have barber shops in 2016."

"I will. But the color..."

"I'll dye it." He looks at you curiously.

"You can do that?"

"Of course. I've done my own before. Black is easy." You shrug and he smiles.

Next thing you know, he's sitting on a chair in the bathroom with a towel around his neck and you're wearing gloves and squirting black hair dye onto his head. Keeping him still is damn near impossible and you wonder how he managed this in the '60s. When you reach the point where he's just waiting, you have to read to him to keep him from flipping hair dye all around the bathroom. He sits still when you produce a philosophy book that was written in the last fifteen years. When the timer goes off, he wants you to keep reading, but you'll have to come back to it later. You rinse his hair and put him in the shower and he makes you get in too. It doesn't take long for him to enter you from behind and fuck you silly in the shower. You ignore yet another portal and dry his hair with the blow dryer. He looks in the mirror to inspect your work.

"Not bad, honey. Thanks."

"You're welcome." You reach up and tussle his hair since it doesn't have anything in it yet. He grabs you and throws you over his shoulder, carrying you to your bedroom.

This is what it's like when you're together. Everything is foreplay and you live for the moments you spend with each other. Now, you have your fair share of little arguments, but it's never something that you can't overcome and talk your way through. In fact, you talk a lot, all the time, and that's what keeps you together. There are no secrets and everything is a conversation. This is out of character for both of you, but something about your relationship brings out the best in both of you and you thrive as a couple. Even the boring days are happy for you.

******

"Babe, can you grab my phone charger? It's on my nightstand." You ask Elvis as he's coming back from the bathroom to the couch one afternoon.

"Sure, hon. What does it look like?" He calls from the bedroom. You stifle a laugh. Of course he wouldn't know. Sometimes you forget he's out of place here in 2016.

"It's like a long cord with a little box on the end that plugs into the wall." After a few minutes you start to think he's having trouble finding it, so you decide to help. You get up and walk into the bedroom. He's standing there in front of your nightstand with the top drawer open.

"You okay?" You ask tentatively.

"Yeah, I just. Honey, what are these?" He gestures to the things inside the drawer and you blush.

"Oh, um, those are... toys... but not for kids..." You walk up next to him and look at your collection of vibrators and dildos in the drawer.

"Toys?" He looks at you with an intrigued look on his face.

"Yeah. For... well, for sex." His eyes go wide and he looks back at the contents of the drawer. Then, he looks back at you with a look somewhere between sheepish and mischievous.

"How do they work?"

"Well..." You take them out and lay all four of them in a line on the bed. "This one is just a vibrator. It vibrates and you put it on the clit. This one is too, but it also goes inside." You continue down the line describing each toy and he nods along like a good little student. When you get to the rabbit, his eyes go even wider.

"What is that?"

"This is called a rabbit." You turn it on so he can see how it moves.

"Whoa."

"Yeah. The bunny ears go on your clit and vibrate and this part-" You point to the dildo part.

"I think I know where that part goes." He chuckles and you laugh a little too. You turn the rabbit off and put it back on the bed, waiting for him to say something.

"Why do you have so many?"

"Babe, I'm a woman in the 21st century. I have needs."

"Oh!" He laughs and blushes slightly.

"And honestly, this is a pretty modest collec-"

"Can we try one?" He interrupts you and you look up at him to find his eyes sparkling with curiosity and something else entirely.

"You want to try one?" He bites his bottom lip and looks at the toys and then back at you.

"Yeah. Can we?"

"We can do whatever you want, babe."

"Then actually I wanna try two." You suppress a smile. He's so excited and it's cute when he's like this.

"Which two?" He grabs the first vibrator and then hesitates.

"Fuck it. I'm curious." He grabs the rabbit and you put the other two back in the drawer. You lay down on the bed and he undresses you carefully. When you go to take his shirt off, though, he stops you.

"Oh no, honey, I just wanna play with you."

"Ohhhh." You lay back on the bed and he finishes taking the rest of your clothes off. Once he's got you completely naked, he runs his hand from the middle of your chest down to your center.

"Are you excited for this baby? You're already wet for me."

"I am." You answer breathily as he slides a finger inside you. He hands you the vibrator.

"Show me how you use this one." You click it on to the speed that you like and then place it gently on your sensitive bud. Immediately, you throw your head back and moan.

"Wow." He says quietly under his breath.

"Mmmm." You can't make words with the intensity of the pleasure that's rushing through you. He continues to push his one finger in and out of you as you move the vibrator around on your clit and he watches in awe. When you come, hard, he looks up at you, surprised.

"Already?!" You feel yourself pulse around his finger as the orgasm washes over you, bathing you in exquisite pleasure. When you come back down, you pull the vibrator away and look down at him.

"Yeah. It happens fast."

"Can you do it again?"

"I can do it over and over as much as I want, really."

"Okay, this is my favorite thing from 2016." He grabs the vibrator and looks at it. Then, he turns it on and puts it back on you. After 3 more orgasms, you have to beg him to stop because you're so sensitive.

"I need a break, baby." You put your hand in his hair and try to gently pull him up to lay next to you on the bed, but he resists.

"I haven't even tried this one yet." He holds up the rabbit and you whimper. "You can do it, honey, show me how this one works for you."

You take the rabbit and slowly push it inside you. Then, you arrange the ears to be just where they need to be on your clit. You whimper again and he pushes the button to turn it on.

"Oh FUCK." You say it loudly and slam your hand on the bed and he laughs. "FUCK FUCK FUCK!"

He laughs again and starts to slowly move the rabbit in and out of you, mimicking what he would do with his cock. You come again, harder than you ever have, and try to pull back away from him and off of the rabbit, but he follows you and keeps pushing it in and out of you. By this point your whole body is shaking and covered in sweat. You know what's coming and you have to stop him before it happens.

"No no no! FUCK." You scream and pull the rabbit out as you come again, but this time when you pull the dildo out, you also squirt everywhere. And because of his position between your legs, his whole chest gets soaked. This is what you were trying to avoid. "OH MY GOD."

This might be the most embarrassed you've ever been, so you try to back away from him and curl into a ball, but Elvis just busts out laughing. He does the biggest laugh he's done since you've been together and rolls over on his back unable to catch his breath.

"I'm sorry." You cover your face with your hands and wish you could just disappear.

"You told me to stop and I didn't! I got what I deserved!" He continues laughing his big-joy laugh and then sits up, pulling his shirt up and over his head. Thats when he notices you trying to sink into the pillows. "Aw, honey, come here. You don't need to be embarrassed. C'mere."

He crawls over to you and wraps you in his arms, pressing his bare skin against yours.

"You knew that was going to happen, didn't you?" You nod.

"Yeah, that's not the first time I've done it."

"You know, I've heard about it but I kinda always thought it was just an urban legend. I've never seen it myself until now. Looks like I was wrong!" He laughs again and you can't help but start to laugh with him. You relax in his arms and both of you lay there laughing together.

After a few minutes, he rolls into you and presses his erection into your thigh.

"Oh, no, you wore me out. You're gonna have to take care of that yourself." He whimpers and pouts, sticking out his bottom lip.

"Will ya just talk to me at least? And stay naked so I can look at ya."

"That I can do." He rolls onto his back and pulls his pants off so that he's naked too. He wraps his left hand around his cock and starts to stroke himself, gently moving his foreskin back and forth.

"Mmm. Talk to me baby." You roll over on your side and he looks down at your body as he pumps his dick.

"Imagine that I'm sucking your cock. I'm doing that thing you love where I pull the whole thing in my mouth and you hit the back of my throat."

"Mmm yes, baby, that's so good."

"And now I'm holding you back and licking a slow circle around the tip." When you say this, he rubs his thumb over the head of his cock and groans.

"What else, baby?"

"Now I'm gonna climb on top of you and fuck you with my tight little pussy."

"Goddamn, baby, you know I love your pussy." He closes his eyes and continues stroking his cock, picking up speed.

"I'm sliding up and down on top of you, taking you so deep, bouncing on you just like you like."

"Yes, fuck baby, mmmm."

"You like it when I lean against your chest and let you fuck me so hard from underneath?"

"God, yes, baby, I fuckin' love that. I'm gonna come." At the last second, you crawl between his legs and pull his cock into your mouth. "OH FUCK YES BABY!"

He comes hard into your throat and you suck it down, swallowing every last drop. You keep bouncing your mouth on him as he softens and he laughs and grabs your hair.

"Stop, baby, it's too sensitive!" You keep sucking him and he does a little scream. Finally, you pull off and look up at him.

"Oh, is it too much? You want me to stop?"

"Yes! Yes! Okay, you made your point!" He grabs you and pulls you into his arms and then rolls over, pinning you on the bed as you both laugh again. He starts peppering your face with kisses as you giggle.

"I love you, y/n." He stops and looks into your eyes, moving so that you're no longer pinned.

"I love you too, Elvis." He caresses the side of your face and then runs his thumb across your lips.

"I'm so glad I'm here."

"Me too." He pulls you to his chest and you lay there together, naked and wrapped in each other, both of you content to stay this way for the rest of your lives.

******

In May, Elvis has saved enough to buy you a perfectly respectable engagement ring. He assures you that you'd have at least 10 carats in 1966, but you love your 1/2 carat solitaire because you know how hard he worked for it.

By June, you're both tired of not being married, so you decide to load up and head to Vegas. At the airport, Elvis is totally perplexed by all the safety procedures to get on the plane. You sigh deeply and explain 9/11 to him. He's almost in tears by the end of your explanation and he's quiet for the first hour of the flight. Eventually, he comes to terms with the reality of what happened and he kisses you on the cheek and takes your hand.

"I'm excited to be your husband." He smiles and rubs small circles on the back of your hand. It reminds you of the time you went to breakfast in 2007 and the whole history of your relationship hits you like a ton of bricks. You haven't been together consistently, but you've been a part of each others' lives for almost ten years. And now you'll be together until the end. You sniffle and a single tear slides down your cheek.

"Honey, what's wrong?" He kisses the back of your hand.

"Nothing. I'm just so happy. I love you so much."

"I love you too, hon." The plane starts its descent and your heart flip flops with excitement that you'll be married to Elvis soon.

******

Your wedding is exactly what you'd expect from a Vegas chapel, but you're so in love that you don't care. All you see is each other.

That night, you get the honeymoon suite at a casino hotel and drink champagne and make love as many times as you can before you pass out in each other's arms. Overall, the whole experience will live forever in both of your memories as one of the best nights of your life.

The next day, you're laying on the couch in your suite enjoying room service and watching tv. You go to the bathroom and he flips the station to an entertainment news show. When you come back, he's absolutely enthralled and you look at the tv to see what it is.

It's Lisa Marie.

She's recently announced that she's getting a divorce, so she popped up in entertainment media again. You grab the remote and turn the tv off as fast as you can. Luckily, you catch it before they say too much.

"Who was that?"

"Who?"

"That woman. You know what I'm talking about. Her name is Presley. Who is she, y/n?"

"She's... she's your daughter." You know what her existence means for you. Your heart shatters into a thousand pieces and you wish more than anything that he hadn't seen her on tv.

"My daughter? How?"

"Elvis, you know how." He looks down at the floor and takes a deep breath. You slide onto the floor in front of him and put your hands on his knees. He looks into your eyes and you both start to cry.

"I have to leave."

"Please don't! God, Elvis, please don't leave me here without you." He closes his eyes and shakes his head.

"I have to. I'm her father. I have to be her father."

"No! Elvis, please!" You know you're begging now as the tears run down your cheeks.

"I have to go now."

"Now?! Why now?"

"If I don't go now, I won't go." You grab his hand and put it on your cheek.

"Then don't." He stands up and walks away from you.

"Damnit, y/n, please don't make this harder than it already is!" He picks up the tv remote and throws it against the wall as hard as he can. "Goddamnit!"

You sit on the carpet weeping and rocking back and forth. He looks at you on the floor, his tortured heart evident on his face. He walks over to you and scoops you into his arms, carrying you to the bed and holds you as you cry for an indeterminate amount of time.

When you finally calm down, he kisses your face down to your mouth. You pull away from him.

"You just want to make a portal."

He grabs your chin and makes you look into his eyes.

"Yes, I need a portal. But more than that, I want to make love to my wife. Because that's who you are. And I don't care who I marry that's that girl's mother. You are my wife and you always will be. In my heart, I am yours. Forever, honey. Forever." He kisses you again and you submit to him fully, letting him undress you as lovingly as possible. You hold him close to your body and kiss as much of his skin as you can reach. He pushes into you slowly and gently makes love to you with his head on your shoulder. By the end of it, you're both crying. He tries to push off his orgasm as long as possible, but eventually he has to give in. Both of your shoulders shake with sobs and you hold each other as close as you can for what you're pretty sure are your last moments together. The portal appears like it always does and he drags himself away from you to get dressed. Once he has all his clothes on, he grabs you and holds you so tightly it almost hurts. He whispers in your ear.

"Never forget that I belong to you, always. Know that for the rest of my life, I will love you and I will miss you." He presses his forehead to yours and kisses your lips one last time. "You are and always will be the love of my life. Goodbye, honey. I love you."

He walks away from you towards the portal, not letting go of your hand until the last possible second. He looks back at you one last time and then goes through the portal. You fall to the floor and sob out loud. When the portal disappears, you scream, "No!"

He's really gone. And now that he knows about Lisa, he's never coming back.

******

Three weeks later, you're back home. You sit in your bathroom and laugh hysterically. It's all you can do to keep from breaking down completely. You look down at it in your hand again.

It's positive.

You don't know how, but it is.

Somehow, you're pregnant with the child of Elvis Presley.

******

Come back for Chapter 11 soon!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @rosepresley68 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @that-hotdog @eddiesgirlforever @helen06dreamer @returntopresley @rjmartin11

[th3-c0rps3-r0gu3]

Snow White.

Pairing: Natasha X winter powered fem reader (eventually)

Warnings: mentions of abuse and divorce, angst, Natasha being mean (she fixes it don't worry)

A/n: y/n is albino in this please don't come at me. Also felt like writing some small hurt to comfort so here lol. Also this was written all in one go at some point during midnight so don't judge me.

When y/n joined the Avengers Natasha hated her. She hated her silvery white hair, red eyes and ghostly skin. In Natasha's opinion the woman needed to gain some colour. And yes Natasha wasn't much better at least she wasn't basically a ghost!

It wasn't just that either. Her whole personality annoyed Natasha. She was too friendly, trusting, kind and definitely way too much of a sweetheart for her own good. Natasha thought that if y/n had to even think about causing another harm she would combust into tears! This was obviously not a good career choice on her part.

But nevertheless Natasha had to put up, mind you begrudgingly, with y/n and her overly kind personality.

When y/n joined the Avengers she was nervous. One because of how she looked, being mocked all her life for it hadn't helped her self esteem, combined with the fact her favourite of the group despised her.

Y/n had always liked Natasha but when the red headed Russian first saw y/n she had sneered, leaving a bruise on y/n's heart. Natasha had been y/n's favourite of the Avengers ever since she first saw her.

It had been in the bustling streets of New York when Natasha had been swarmed around by paparazzi, at that time y/n had no interest in the Avengers, when y/n saw Natasha. Immediately swept off her feet by the confidence Natasha carried as she manoeuvred around the cameras and ignoring the sensitive questions they had y/n knew from that moment she liked Natasha.

But now whenever y/n would enter a room with Natasha the assassin would scowl or make snide comments about her pale appearance. And Tony deeming her snow white didn't help. And unfortunately the nickname had stuck.

"y/n how come you've never just dyed your hair or something, I mean at least try and fit in."

Natasha scowled as she passed the albino woman as she played cards with Wanda who shit Natasha a disapproving look that she missed completely. What Natasha didn't miss was the way y/n flinched and looked down at her hand of cards. Natasha frowned but shrugged off the slight feeling of guilt.

"I did try... It doesn't work.. my powers effect my appearance making dyes and any form of hair colouring fade almost immediately.."

Y/n tries to explain simply with her typically soft voice. Natasha ignored the slight sadness that she heard in the ever so gentle tone y/n always used. Instead the red head rolled her eyes.

"then wear a wig"

Nat snapped walking out. Forcing herself not to look back as she felt a sting in her heart. Why was this happening. She never felt guilty before about this.

After that Natasha grew frustrated. Every time she threw a mean or mocking comment y/n's way and she saw how y/n would wince or look down she felt guilty. She didn't even need to see it anymore. Just knowing that was y/n's reaction made Natasha's heart flinch too. So instead of doing the logical thing the Russian instead got nastier and simply insulted snow white even further.

"look here's snow white!"

Exclaimed Tony as y/n entered the room. Y/n simply shook her head and smiled, now used to the nickname. Natasha tried to shake the small flip her heart did when she saw that smile. First feeling guilty about the insults and now whenever Nat saw y/n her chest did acrobatics? She needed to see a doctor.

From where y/n sat with her book she could see Natasha reloading her guns. Y/n had known and accepted her crush on the Russian assassin a while ago. Though she knew not to approach Natasha about it. She had realised that she had taken a liking to Natasha when she walked into the kitchen to find Natasha leaning against the counter in her pajamas. Her heart had fluttered and for the first time ever her face donned a bright red colour. Though thankfully y/n had slipped away before Natasha noticed her.

But for now y/n could accept admiring Natasha from afar and simply hoping she either found another or her feelings faded, for y/n knew that her feelings would never be reciprocated. So as Natasha reloaded her guns and y/n read her book the two sat in silence together for the first time in their lives.

Natasha could see y/n reading in the corner of her eye. At first she had intended to send an insult to the winter woman's way but after she had glanced over and seen how peaceful and relaxed y/n looked she couldn't bring herself to say a harmful word to her. Natasha couldn't ignore the way her heartbeat sped up whenever y/n entered a room or smiled or even just existed.

Natasha had gone to Bruce about the situation and the only answer he had come up with was that Natasha was in love. But how could she be? She despised y/n. Her kind, loyal, sweet personality had initially irritated Natasha but now she found it endearing. And Nat couldn't figure out why. She couldn't figure out why whenever she saw even just a glimpse of silvery white hair her insides did a summersault and her heart rate increased to the point she thought she might die. So the only conclusion Natasha could hope for was that if she was cruel enough these unwanted feelings for y/n would go.

It had been two weeks since Natasha had realised she had feelings for y/n. And in that time the assassin bullied the albino woman to the brink of tears, ignoring how much her heart screamed at her to stop and to say sorry.

For the last two weeks Natasha's insults and jabs had grown progressively worse and y/n couldn't figure out why. What had she done? It stung a lot hearing every nasty word leave Natasha's mouth. It got to the point where y/n would end up leaving a few moments after Natasha entered to avoid crying in front of the other Avengers.

"y'know y/n your way too sensitive. Perhaps all that snow got in your head and ruined any sense of rationality."

Natasha scowled entering the training room where y/n was being helped by Wanda with her powers. Snow layered over the floor. Natasha ignored the hurt she felt in her chest when y/n looked down and clasped her hands together.

"there's no snow in my head Natasha please your words hurt.."

Y/n spoke quietly looking up at Natasha's face and meeting her eyes. Natasha ignored the shame she felt as she saw tears glistening in y/n's eyes.

"yeah well suck it up. Most of us have had much harder lives that have to put up with a few comments."

The assassin snapped staring y/n down in the eyes, crossing her arms as she did so. That's when she noticed something appear in y/n, her body stiffness and she showed... Anger? No way y/n never list her temper.

"I have too! You have no idea what I've had to put up with!"

Y/n said a bit louder than normal. Natasha was tempted to stop. Actually Natashas was tempted to simply apologise for over and walk over and embrace the albino woman but she held back, she was meant to hate y/n.

"oh yeah? Like what?"

Natasha provoked. She didn't miss the anger this time. Wanda at this point had gone and grabbed the others as she had sensed a fight coming. So with an audience y/n was about to put on a show.

"oh I don't know perhaps having your parents divorce because of how you look! Having your father claim your mother cheated! Being blamed for the divorce that ensues after your birth! Being brutally abused by your father physically, mentally and emotionally! Being outcasted and called a freak for your looks and powers!"

Y/n yelled. Snow and ice swirling around the room as the calmest and sweetest avenger got angry and lost her temper. But Natasha ignited the snow, she ignored the shocked faces of her friends in the background. All Natasha could focus on was how bad she felt about what she had been doing. Y/n had endured so much suffering from what many now consider a gift. And her comments probably only made the situation worse. Natasha was about to walk over and apologise but y/n stopped the snow storm and then pushed past Natasha to get away, tears frozen in her face.

Natasha spent about half an hour searching for y/n. She found her in the gardens. Snow covering every surface. It looked like a winter wonderland. And in the middle of the rose gardens where all the white and red roses grew sat y/n. Silvery white hair down around her ghostly pale shoulders. Red eyes slightly puffy with frozen tears running down her face. And while the situation was fire Natasha couldn't help but think that y/n looked like a goddess in that moment.

"if you've come to mock me more then please leave."

Y/n spoke up softly not looking up as she opened her palm and let snow fall over it, looking like a miniature snowfall. Natasha softened and walked over, sitting down next to y/n, who closed her palm and stopped the snow.

"I'm here to say sorry."

Natasha said quietly, taking y/n's closed fist into her own cold hands. Y/n looked up slightly shocked. But all Natasha could think of how beautiful the white woman was. A true winter goddess.

"wha-"

Y/n started only to get cut off when Natasha kissed her. Natasha hadn't been able to help herself. Y/n looked so pretty and Nat felt if she kept denying her feelings she might explode. So while y/n was distracted she kissed her. Sudden worry and fear filled Natasha though as she realised that y/n may not like her back. That was until y/n kissed Natasha back.

While admittedly y/n had been shocked when Natasha kissed her she also felt extremely happy and her heart picked up in pace. And sensing Natasha's then fear she kissed her back.

The two broke apart and Natasha looked at y/n simply admiring the woman she felt she couldn't admire before. Tucking a stray white lock from her face. Y/n smiled and leaned against Natasha's shoulder holding out her palm again and letting the snow fall commence once more.

After this the comments and jabs continued. Only now they ended in a compliment and a kiss between the two.

Natasha hated the new Avenger and never even considered the thought of liking her, and the new Avenger liked Natasha but never even thought that she would even like her back, but in the end both women loved each other and that's all that mattered to them.

[wooataes]

Real Eyes, Fake Lies (Part Five)

Pairing: soulmate!Lee Jihoon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: angst, Hanahaki AU, swearing, tooth rotting fluff, Jihoon is a tsundere and his emotions are all over the place, tears, mentions of bleach (for hair dye)

Summary: What do you do when you find out the one person that was created by the universe to be yours doesn’t want you back?

A/N: Thank you all for the ongoing love for my story! I cant thank you all enough for wanting more 🫶🏼 a special thanks to my gals Zan and Jess for helping me pretty much plan the whole story with me and wanting more always 🩷

-Tae💜✨🥰

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Jihoon stirs with a low groan, his eyes fluttering open as he blindly reaches for his phone. He winces at the bright screen displaying ‘03:12’ at him, the sounds of seven of his ten friends (plus his unwanted soulmate) sleeping around him.

He rubs at his eyes as he spots 3 unread messages, a small smile lining his lips as he skims over them.

Ji-ah 🖤: I’m sorry again I couldn’t be there with you, baby. 💕 I hope you’re having a good time!

Ji-ah 🖤 sent a photo

Ji-ah 🖤: guess what!! Unnie asked me to be her Maid of Honor! 😍

Jihoon smiles at the photo his girlfriend sent; an invitation from Ji-ah’s older sister officially asking her to be the Maid of Honor for her upcoming wedding, including a singular red rose and a pretty bracelet.

Jihoon truly didn’t mind how much time Ji-ah spent with her family. Almost every weekend she would travel to spend it with them, and he knew this. He sometimes would join her, but unlike his girlfriend, he enjoyed using his personal time to recharge from being social all week. Being an only child, for Jihoon, works out perfectly for his personality. He spends his time with his friends and girlfriend during the week, and his weekends usually recovering and recharging his social battery. Of course, Ji-ah and his friends were the exception, a small fondness having built up in his heart for his little circle of friends. He didn’t really know the close bond of a sibling, but doesn’t ignore the fact it must be like no other, considering how close Ji-ah is with her siblings, and how close you are with Seungcheol.

He reaches up to quickly type an excited congratulations for his girlfriend, with a ‘miss you’ and ‘can’t wait to see you’ thrown in. He doesn’t know why, but typing that out with his soulmate so close makes him feel a little bit sick.

Three different sets of voices can be heard from the kitchen, the only source of the light in the house filtering into the living room where the guests slept for the night. It catches Jihoon’s attention as he starts to focus on the conversation.

“Y/N.” His best friend’s voice is soft but can be easily heard from Jihoon’s position in the living room, your name piquing his interest.

“Yes, Soonyoung.” You reply back in a monotone voice. Jihoon’s eyes wander around the sleeping bodies to spot Soonyoung’s soulmate curled up on a mattress, arm draped over a pillow to suffice for his cuddle buddy not being there.

“I know you’ve said it before…” he sounds serious, and you heave a heavy sigh. “But… would you love me if I turned into a worm?”

Jihoon scoffs quietly, shaking his head at the silly question. Of course Soonyoung would ask that.

“Oh yes,” You reply back enthusiastically. “I would make up a little enclosure for you, and make sure you get enough sunlight to grow big and strong.”

“Really?” Soonyoung sounds excited.

“No.” You deadpan, resulting in a loud gasp of betrayal from Soonyoung, and a loud giggle erupting from the third voice, your brother.

Jihoon couldn’t help it. He cracked a smile as he now stared at the ceiling, listening quietly to the others in the next room.

“Whyyyyyy?” Soonyoung whined, and by the sounds you make, Jihoon assumes that his best friend has tried to cuddle up to you. “You know I would do it for you!”

“Do I?” You hum, swatting at his arm. “Hop off you giant oaf, you’ll get it on your clothes.”

“Oh please,” he scoffs. “Like I haven’t dealt with bleach before.

Bleach? Jihoon balk’s, pursing his lips in confusion.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Your brother asks Soonyoung.

“Nothing good ever comes out of 3am sleep deprived choices, y’know.” You remind your friend.

“That didn’t stop you both from putting it on your scalps, so you’re just as bad as I am, if not worse!” Jihoon can tell that Soonyoung is flailing his arms around as he speaks. He knows him too well.

“Yah!” You bark back, your soulmate chuckling softly as he hears you swat Soonyoung, resounding a loud yelp. “You peer pressured us, you fiend!”

“Nah, you did it because you loooooove me!” He sings, making loud kissy noises.

“Yah!” Your brother barks now, another smack and yelp resounding in the room. You and your brother are definitely similar, that’s for sure. “Don’t tease my sister, you little gremlin!”

“Wah…” Soonyoung gasps, pressing a hand over his chest. “Betrayed by my favourite hyung…”

“Ooh, don’t let Hannie-Oppa hear.” You giggled as a timer rings out. “Okay, we gotta wash it out.” After a brief pause, you click your fingers. “Are you gonna help?! You got us into this mess!”

“Don’t yell at me!” Soonyoung whines, but when the three of you all start giggling, Jihoon lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He blinks slowly with a soft yawn, letting sleep take over him once again.

When Jihoon wakes next, he groans as he shields his eyes, the morning sunlight filtering into the living room as Soonyoung pushes the curtains open.

“Are you sure she isn’t in her room?” Jeonghan calls out again from the bottom of the staircase.

“I’ve looked three times already!” Your brother shouts back, his heavy footsteps stomping through the house. “She’s not here, I don’t know how long she’s been gone but we need to go-”

“Hyung, it’s alright. All of her things are still here.” Soonyoung calls back as Jihoon sits up, leaning his head back against the headrest of the couch, rubbing at his eyes.

“What’s going on?” Jihoon yawns.

“Y/N isn’t here.” Wonwoo replies, running his fingers through a half asleep Mingyu’s hair, head nestled sleepily against his shoulder.

Jihoon’s eyes widen as he glances at your brother, who’s once long black locks last night were now dyed a bleached platinum white, disheveled from running his fingers through it constantly. Jeonghan, bless his soul, reaches out to pat at his soulmate’s hair to calm him down.

“I’m sure she has just gone for a morning walk, hyung.” Seokmin tries to rationalize, smiling sleeplily. “You know she likes to do that.”

“I don’t know.” He grumbles, his arms taking solace around his soulmate’s waist to stop him from fidgeting. “Last time we couldn’t find her…”

Jihoon frowns as he remembers Seokmin’s words from the fateful day he figured out you were soulmates. Surely you wouldn’t be that silly to run away again.

“Hyung, don’t freak out.” Soonyoung smiles, patting Seungcheol’s shoulder. “Really. You don’t need to get so worked up. She’s grown a lot since all those years ago. I know she wouldn’t leave without any notice.”

“Who wouldn’t leave?” Your voice fills the room, and everyone’s heads all spin to you with wide eyes.

You’re walking through the hallway in a pair of blue faded jeans with rips in the knees paired with a large oversized black hoodie, pulling out and placing your AirPods into their case with one hand and placing a large plastic bag on the counter with the other. Only your left side of your body is visible to the others, your long dark hair covering your face. The jingling of a leash rings through the room as a fluffy white dog runs excitedly across the room to your surprised brother, wagging her tail before trotting through the living room.

“Kkuma-ya!!!” Seokmin squeals happily as the dog, who now Jihoon notices up close has a baby pink clip holding her fur out of her face, leans her head against Seokmin’s leg. He reaches down to scratch behind her ears with a giggle.

“See? I told you!” Soonyoung beams proudly at Seungcheol. “I know my best friend.”

“Yah! Where have you been?!” He yells, rushing to you with Jeonghan following close behind.

“What do you mean?” You ask with a tilted head, pulling out the 3 cup trays from the bag. “Didn’t you see the note I left on the fridge? I took Kkuma to work to get some coffees and some birthday treats for Soonie.”

Seungcheol balked, and Jeonghan just turned to smirk at him.

“You didn’t check the fridge, did you, darling?”

Your brother just grumbles with a pout on his lips, taking one of the iced coffees from the trays, leaning over and giving you a thankful but also relieved kiss on the forehead. You just smile sweetly at him as Jeonghan takes a hot cup of tea.

“Thank you, Lady Bug.” He smiles and bumps your hip with his before following his soulmate to occupy a small section of the couches with a donut in hand.

“Noona works at a bakery?” Chan’s eyes widen as he finally pulls the blankets off him at the sight of enough plastic cups for everyone in the room, and a box of various cupcakes, slices and donuts.

“It’s nothing special, Chan-ah.” You laugh, taking two of the three trays, turning towards the boys. “But the employee discount works pretty well when you have friends who are addicted to caffeine and sugar.”

“Woah!” Junhui voices what everyone is thinking. “Your hair!”

Jihoon’s eyes go wide once again as you face them completely, the right side of your hair bleached the same platinum white as your brother, your cheeks turning pink as they all stare.

“What? Is it bad?” You stand in place, your face getting darker and darker.

“Of course not!” Seokmin speaks up as none of the others seem to be able to form words.

Jihoon’s cheeks are flushed a dusted pink as he takes in the innocent look of worry and shyness on your face. It looks anything but bad. You look fantastic, he thinks, if he was single, he would even go as far as thinking you look-

“You look hot.” Hansol blurts out, your face somehow turning even darker. Jihoon side-eye’s the newcomer to the group with a frown.

“Wow, you have such a way with words.” Seokmin laughs, a proud grin on Soonyoung’s face.

“What can I say, I have that rizz.” He retorts with a laugh.

“More like harizzment.” Mingyu huffs, Chan guffawing at the pun along with Junhui.

“Thank god you said it first, babe!” Seungkwan grins, rising from the floor. “I thought it wouldn’t mean much from me, since I call you hot all the time.” He laughed happily, reaching out and running his fingers through it. “My best friend is so stunning!” He squeals, taking one of the trays from your hands to hand out the usual drinks to Junhui, Chan, Hansol and himself. “Thank you for getting these for us, Bug!”

“O-oh..” you’re flustered, laughing quietly as you pass Seokmin, Soonyoung, Mingyu and Wonwoo their drinks. “Thanks, guys.” You laugh nervously, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear before grabbing the last two drinks.

“Yah, don’t thank them!” Soonyoung smirks. “Thank me! I’m the genius who decided it was a great idea to change your look last night! You’re welcome, Lovebug!” He laughs proudly.

Jihoon blinks out of his daze as he realizes you’re making your way over to him, cheeks still flushed. “Uh, Soonie said that you’re not much of a coffee drinker. I don’t drink coffee either, so I just got you what I normally get, a hot chocolate. I hope that’s okay.” You push the paper cup gently into his hands, unable to look up into your soulmate’s face as you sink into a beanbag on the floor. “I don’t know if you like marshmallows or anything, so they’re on the counter-”

“This is perfect, actually.” Jihoon stops your rambling as he takes a sip of the warm drink. “Thank you, Y/N.”

You glance up at him at his words, giving him a gentle smile and nod. When he’s sure you’re not looking at him, he lets the small smile take over his face at your consideration. The chocolate is way too sweet for his taste, he prefers the bitter taste of dark chocolate. But, he couldn’t find it in himself to reject the drink from you. The satisfaction and pride on your face when Jihoon told you the drink was perfect is too memorable for him to want to strip away from you. Instead, he grins and bears the overly sweet chocolatey drink for you.

“See, I told you he’d like it.” He overhears his best friend whisper to you, and you smile into your paper cup. Kkuma climbs up into your lap, wagging her tail happily as you use your free hand to run it through her fur.

If he was honest, Jihoon doesn’t know why he so blindly accepted the sugary sweet drink. If it were Soonyoung or Mingyu, he would’ve rejected them without a second thought. Why has he suddenly accepted your drink without any thought for his own likes?

You didn’t have to get this drink for him. Heck, you didn’t even need to be talking to him period for what he did to you. You are too nice for your own good, Jihoon thinks. He didn’t deserve someone as good as you as a soulmate. You didn’t deserve such a jerk like him, either. One too many times lately, Jihoon again lets his thoughts take over as he absentmindedly sipped from his cup, again not noticing the eyes of your brother’s soulmate watching him; studying him.

“Y/N,” Seungkwan broke Jihoon out of his spiraling thoughts, and you hum in response. “How did you manage to get Mr Park to accept your hairstyle for Mamma Mia?” He tilts his head. “Is he going to get a random ass wig for you or?”

“Oh, about that.” You laugh, shaking your head. “Nah, I’ve decided I’m not auditioning this year.”

You swear you could’ve heard a pin drop in the room as the uncomfortable silence swells.

“I’m sorry…” Seungkwan starts again as you avoid his gaze. “Are you telling me that the one musical that you have dreamed of doing for years is being done and you’re not going to audition for the main role?”

“Uhhh…” you shrink into the couch beside Soonyoung, almost curling into him. “Yeah?”

“What is wrong with you?” He bellows, and you flinch. “You’ve wanted the role of Sophie for years, Y/N! Now you’re pretty much guaranteed and you won’t do it?”

“Boo..” you sighed as Soonyoung wrapped an arm around you.

“No, I’m not going to let you throw this opportunity away!” He insists, his frown evident.

“I just…” your voice is smaller now, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. “I really didn’t want to have to pretend to be in love for countless hours of rehearsals and on top of that, seven performances.” Jihoon winces as he can feel your anxiousness and sadness brewing in your stomach, and he, alongside the rest of the group, eyes your friend to see his reaction.

Seungkwan sighs, reaching out and letting his hand rest on your knee. “I’m sorry for shouting,” you place your hand gently over his, nodding wearily. “I just love you, Bug,” You don’t love me, you think. “And I want only the best for you. But if you think this would only hurt you more in the long run, then I won’t bother you about it anymore, okay?”

“Thanks, Boo.” You hum quietly as you take another sip from your cup. “I’ll just be behind the scenes for this one. The costume team needs more helpers so that’s where I’ll be this year.” You laugh with a hollow smile, before you glance at Soonyoung, who still held you.

“You have to have some cake, Soonie.” You change the topic swiftly, and much to your relief, everyone goes along with it and takes multiple treats from the bakery.

Jihoon is the only one who doesn’t eat, though. He quietly sips on his sickly sweet drink in his hands as he occasionally glances to you, who seems to thrive in the fact your friends are enjoying the goods that you purchased for them.

“I missed you.” Jihoon hums as he takes Ji-ah into his arms late Sunday night.

She had just arrived back from visiting her family, and she let herself melt into his arms. “And I missed you!” She cooed, lips pressing softly to his cheek. He smiled as they both settled down onto his bed, Ji-ah snuggling sweetly against his chest.

“Do you have to go every weekend though?” He jokes playfully, his hand stroking along her arm absentmindedly.

“You’re getting a bit greedy with me, Hoonie.” Ji-ah smiles as her arm drapes around his waist. “You get me all week every week! You know how much my family means to me, you big goof.” She giggles softly as Jihoon lets out a chuckle. “You can always come with me if you miss me that much, you know.”

“Ah, I’ll keep that in mind.” He plays along, smiling.

“Soonyoung’s party was good?” Ji-ah asks sleepily as Jihoon nods.

“Mhm,” he hums, looking up to the ceiling for a moment. “He was ecstatic the entire night. Never knew that someone could still be so excited about a birthday.” He laughs quietly as Ji-ah giggles along with him for a moment before going silent.

Jihoon watches his girlfriend drift off to sleep in his arms, leaving him alone with his thoughts once again. He closes his eyes in an attempt to try and sleep, his stomach churning slightly in guilt. He’s cuddling up to his not-soulmate while his actual soulmate is all alone and feeling the comfort and contentment he’s feeling.

You need to learn to get over it, Jihoon. You’ve made your bed, you can lay in it. He needs to be tough on himself; it’s the only way he will be able to get through his inner turmoil.

For a week, everything goes without a hitch. Jihoon is in a good place with Ji-ah and quite frankly, with you as well. He finds himself not waking up most nights with overwhelming emotions, and he begins to wonder if you’ve started healing. He hopes you have. You have become Jihoon’s desk mate for Film Studies class, and are due at the end of the week to have your first big study session to discuss what film you’ll pick to present about. You’re civil, and even at your third class together, you had brought two familiar paper cups; one for you and one for your soulmate. It’s the first class of the day, and after an explanation to Jihoon that you just finished the early morning shift at the bakery, it really was no trouble to get him another hot chocolate. Like last time, he grins and bears the overly sweet drink, but smiles to himself when he sees the satisfied look on your face.

Auditions have begun in the auditorium, with Jihoon having to sit and endure hours worth of playing the same four chords of the main song of the musical at the piano by the stage. He loathed it, really. He didn’t know that this is what he signed up for when he applied to be in the orchestra for the play. Despite his reasons, Jihoon trudges on without complaint; at least he can practice his piano skills and improve his progression in that area. He does, however, complain to himself at the majority of the drama club auditioning. Half of them can’t hold a tune to save their life, and by Bad Singer #14, he is beginning to think that this musical will be a lost cause. Maybe you should have auditioned after all. He wouldn’t mind another hot chocolate drop, either.

With a sigh, Jihoon adjusts his backpack on his shoulder as he glances up to the sky. It’s full of dark oranges, pinks and purples, and he feels himself smile. He had grown fond of sunsets since he found you - he decided after a week that this was the best time of day. He always likes that no sunset is ever the same; unique in its own way and always breathtaking to everyone who takes the view in. These sunsets were his favourite so far, though. The setting sun hits the wispy clouds just right, making the sky erupt in eye popping colours with the tiniest little stars beginning to emerge.

He takes a long breath as he watches the sky above him, letting his feet take him subconsciously along the usual route to his home. He finds himself slowing down and coming to a stop about five minutes away from his destination, not surprisingly in front of your house. His eyes widen as he sees none other than you, his soulmate sitting on top of the roof of your home, headphones on and, just like Jihoon, staring at the sunset.

You have a dreamy smile on your face as you pull a Polaroid camera from your side and take a snapshot. As you place the film beside you, you take some photos from your phone now, your hums quiet, but loud enough to travel down to where Jihoon stands by your gate, observing you. The wind is blowing your hair gently in the breeze, a shiver running up your body as you wrap your cardigan tighter around you. You type a little longer on your phone before taking a long sigh and start to carefully rise up and make your way down the slope of your roof and down onto the little balcony in front of what Jihoon assumes to be your bedroom window. You take one last look at the sunset with a gentle smile before you step inside, closing the window behind you. Your soulmate waits for five minutes more to make sure you don’t come out again, and once he is satisfied, he turns and starts to walk back to his home once more.

Once Jihoon is settled in his bed, he breathes out a long sigh before feeling a warmth of comfort begin to roll through his body. He wonders what makes you feel so content and comfortable, but welcomes the feeling nonetheless. He is scrolling through his useless Instagram timeline mindlessly before finding himself hovering his thumb over the Search button. After a moment of hesitation, he types in your name into the search bar, clicking on your profile without a moment to lose. He stares at your profile picture for a moment, laughing quietly at the picture being the same white dog he saw at your home, Kkuma. He feels his stomach swell at the sight of your latest picture, in both sadness and guilt.

Jihoon heaves a breath. Your mother. He blinks before scrolling through your feed slowly. There’s the occasional photo of Soonyoung and your brother, some of your theatre performances and outings with your friends, but the majority of your posts were all of the sky. Varying sunsets flood your feed, each picture more stunning than the next. Your captions are almost always the same, each one being a thank you for your mother painting the sky for you, in your words, but Jihoon notices the ones after you found each other were more detailed. You could finally witness your mothers beauty the way the world intended it to be, and Jihoon weeps.

He weeps for your mother, whose life got cut so short for selfish reasons, he weeps for your brother who had to navigate helping look after a whole other human being before he was ready, and he weeps for you, his soulmate, who lost everything at such a young age and for the way he ripped away the one once of hope you had left, whose heart he broke more than it already was for nothing more than what he selfishly wanted. You, who goes out of your way to try to avoid him so you don’t interrupt his relationship with his not-soulmate. You, who offered him your umbrella on your first proper interaction so he wouldn’t get wet and who also offered to buy him drinks for class because you thought he’d want a pick me up for the first class of the day.

You may be feeling as fine as you could be, but Jihoon feels nothing but guilt for stripping everything you hoped for from you.

Real Eyes, Fake Lies Taglist

@cinnamoroxie @enhacolor @mikachu-chu @jojowantstocry @changbinisms @scarlet789 @i-dont-give-a-fok @im-gemmy @shookyungsoo @ametheyistheart @friendlywraith @kawennote09 @coupddeongie @sunooschubbycheeks @zgzgzh @mar-627 @side-angel @kuleo26 @deltamoon666 @snowgirlfallen @lixiel0ver @phenomenalgirl9 @sumzysworld @vixensss @seokmatchu @etaerealboy @milopenne @jinyoungie0922 @chickenscoups @zadkielr @weebotakuboy

[black-lake]

2nd house profection year

it’s my 2nd house profection year and I’m noticing some changes in my life. < my 2nd house is in cancer for ref.

~༯ I’m eating more this year than ever tbh. like I started having comfort food!!! eating whatever I want whenever and not holding myself back as much, which is very unlike me btw. I have a virgo moon and I’m not just nitpicky but also strict with my diet, even tho I have a fast metabolism (aries stellium).

~༯ usually when I’m stressed I tend to starve myself or get over caffeinated but this year I’m leaning more towards eating for comfort < yes taurus core.

~༯ I started going to the gym again but I’d slack off and become uninterested and bored, then find it interesting again, but that could just be my gem rising.

~༯ It seems like life is more abundant. things come easier! there's less resistance. I’m able to slow down and smell the roses.. 𓇢𓆸  I even feel a bit too comfortable or stuck in my comfort zone. everything seems like it’s too much and I just want to enjoy life. ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

~༯ I started buying flowers, planting flowers, decorating my house a lot more, got more perfumes, more beautiful things. currently as we speaking I have like 10 different types of flowers in my house. I started cooking more, I even made up recipes that my family liked and started making them regularly.

~༯ I’m taking care of my skin, my body, and overall health. I'm investing more in skincare and health supplements. though sometimes I overdue it, like get fixated on one thing or another.

~༯ I'm someone that used to have high energy, I'd pull an all nighter or just wake up at 3am scroll non stop or put music on, it wasn’t energy it was ⋆˙⟡ anxiety ⟡⋆˙ , but I'm having more quality sleep this year! I'm in bed by 10 and maybe I just got older, but there's that.

~༯ giving my hair a well deserved break!! I used do dye my hair very often, this year I got a short haircut and I’m growing my natural hair back, I’ve only added a few subtle highlights and I don’t style it as often. I'm embracing more simplicity with my style, though could be that my ass got lazy 𐙚(ᵕ̤ᴗᵕ̤)

~༯ I'm planing more, working on my skills and hobbies, but not rushing or forcing things and not setting high expectations either. I don't feel like there's a rush like before. my values are changing significantly, I know what I like and don’t like and what I can put up with.

~༯ don't get too comfortable and not do anything about moving forward bcz you will be tempted to. remember to still challenge yourself!

~༯ I’m having a relatively comfortable year it got me having flashbacks of my 12th house profection year which was a fckin nightmare. It was all about the subconscious, mental health struggles, depression and overcoming these things. It really was about coming up with personified methods that help me deal with these internal conflict so I can move forward. It also was the year I became more spiritual.

~༯ my 1st house profection year wasn’t good either for me personally, it was super challenging and chaotic. it had me doing things outside my comfort zone. e.g. throwing myself in the ocean (i'm afraid of drowning). my individuality was constantly tested, my determination, my willingness to put myself first and not compromise my own needs and values.

~༯ there were instances where I felt like I'm compromising for the sake of keeping a friendship, which wasn’t reciprocated. I learned to not be afraid to walk away from ppl and places that don’t respect or value me. my cut off game wasn't particularly bad before, but I felt blinded, manipulated and pressured that year, I had to fully trust myself and only rely on myself. very much aries themes. 

~༯ If you're going thRU it with your 12th or 1st house profection, know that it will teach you valuable lessons that lead you to know yourself and love yourself more. you will understand your triggers, your strengths, know who your enemies and true friends are. it gets better! this feels like the perfect year to take a break from all the past challenges that I went through, I'm able to slow down, enjoy life and reflect until I see where the next tides takes me. 

stay blessed, much luv <333

[impactdial]

would you guys mind if i just dumped a bunch of sanji/usopp/sanuso headcanons lmao 🧍‍♂️(putting these under a readmore because there's a LOT)

sanji

-wasian (korean on his moms side)

-his natural hair color is technically black but due to the mutation being partially suppressed, his hair is blonde. he had to start dyeing his hair after the mutation awakened because if he gets too upset/emotional while fighting, his hair will begin turning black

-bisexual + nonbinary. feminine in a show dog boy poodle kind of way. mainly uses he/him but is ok with close friends using she/they too.

-extremely claustrophobic. cannot stand to wear things around or over his head for very long.

-this is more in the vein of a modern au but: he understands but doesn’t fluently speak french (zeff never formally taught him. he knows a few phrases in korean)

-has hardcore perfectionism thats tied to his self worth. everything he does has to be up to his “standard” or he spirals

-has an eating disorder that only chopper and usopp know about in detail. wont eat until everyone else has eaten.

usopp

-afro latino

-bisexual + trans man. post-ts he gains the confidence to enjoy his femininity more, which he does with nami and occasionally robin as well

-has an anxiety disorder and adhd. listening to him info dump is kinda hypnotic ngl. even luffy stays invested most of the time. started taking antidepressants after thriller bark

-more intelligent than he gives himself credit for. he's an incredibly fast learner.

-bigger and heavier post-ts. he's probably only second to zoro in terms of bulk. has THE MOST cake out of everyone on the crew (yes even franky)

-has a difficult/different relationship with food. surviving on boin left him with some weird stress responses

-similarly, he doesn't really enjoy eating meat as much anymore because of boin. (fish is fine, it's mostly red meat he can't always eat)

-him, robin, chopper and luffy have drawing sessions together where they just draw on a giant sheet of paper.

-keeps an immaculate record of everything he's grown in his garden and sketches every single interesting plant he sees on islands.

sanuso specific:

-both of them wish they had each other in their lives when they were kids

-before they got together, they both thought "does he feel this thing we have too? what if i'm misreading the signs because i've never been this close to anyone like this before?"

-even thought they're dating, they still have their typical playful, bickering dynamic where they like to tease each other because they're so comfortable around each other. strangers are surprised when they find out sanji and usopp hadn't grown up together.

-sanji isn't ridiculously doting and over the top like he can be with nami or robin, but he's still stupidly romantic and affectionate even when he's not trying to be. usopp is, of course, very endeared by this

-they're both vers switches but sanji tends to be more of a sub