#*sigh* I wish gay people were real | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

artificial-transmutations · 8 months

Note

Your stories and images are beyond incredible. My favorite blog on tumblr BY FAR. Truly incredible work. I guess it’s kind of selfish, so absolutely so absolutely no worries, at the very least I got to tell you how much I appreciate and love your content. But I’m a short, nerdy, thin, art student in college right now. I’m tired of being in the closet, I’m tired of being a push over, Im tired of being weak and submissive, I’m tired of being a virgin, and I wanna change. Maybe you could help with a story by turning me into one of those jaw dropping beautiful confident men that you make the pictures of, I would very much appreciate it. But no worries if you can’t, I just love your content!

Confidence

Nathaniel sighed quietly, as he came over his hairless stomach. Of course, he had to be quiet! The dorm walls were paper-thin, and he certainly didn't want the guys from the neighboring dorm rooms to hear him. He looked at the website once more, with the story and the hot buff men before he closed the incognito browser tab and proceeded to clean himself up.

When he looked into the bathroom mirror, he sighed again, but this time, it was a sigh of sadness. There really wasn't anything remotely impressive about him. He was thin and weak, and pathetic really. If it wasn't for his lack of boobs and his sorry excuse for a dick, he could very well pass as a woman. In fact, he had been mistakenly called "Madame" more than once, and one time, he had even been asked "how his transition was going".

No, Nathan was a cis man, just not a very impressive one. He was gay, of course, and loved to look at 'real' men while jerking his small cock. Most of the time, he fantasized about some hairy brute rough-handling him, pushing his face against the bed and fucking his tiny ass into submission. However, even though the thought was exciting to Nathan, he even more wished to *be* such a man. The rational part of Nathan knew that both fantasies would not happen anytime, though. It was physically impossible to just *become* a 'real man', and it was impossible for Nathan to even admit to anyone that he was gay. So, he would probably just stay a closeted virgin forever - doomed to masturbate to some kinky stories he was so embarrassed about that he only dared to look at them from an incognito browser tab.

He sighed a third time when he crawled into bed. Perhaps someday he would accept his fate.

Nathan was already almost asleep when he heard the firework starting outside. Right. It was New Year’s Eve. What a way to start the new year.

The next morning, Nathan was feeling a bit better. Of course, his deep-rooted unhappiness still lingered within him, but Nathan decided to try and enjoy the day. He liked new year’s days. Everyone usually was at home after having celebrated the whole night which meant that the world outside was very quiet. Not much happened on New Year’s Day.

Nathan decided to go to a nearby cafe. There, with a steaming mug of hot chocolate next to him, he got out his drawing utensils and looked around the place. There weren't too many people. An older couple sat together, the man reading a book, and the woman reading a magazine, while an elderly lady sat at the counter. She was probably the owner. However, there was one more guy, a young adult like Nathan, who sat on a nearby table all by himself and was playing on his phone. He had his chair tilted back a bit, stabilizing himself against the wall and rocking a bit. He had earphones in his ear, so he was probably listening to music while doing so.

Nathan's first instinct was to draw the old couple, but then he looked at the other young man again. He looked a bit like one of those men from the internet, the kind that Nathan would fantasize about. Just a bit. The other man wasn't burly and muscular and assertive, but instead he had a lean, fit build. Nathan was a bad judge of character, especially without having spoken to the person in question, but the young man didn't look particularly assertive or dominant either. So, all in all, not too much like the men Nathan longed for on the internet. But still, he had a certain charm to him. Nathan liked the fit, lean body and the aura of positivity the man seemed to exude and wanted to capture that on paper.

Nathan began sketching the man, while occasionally looking up, making sure the man wouldn't notice. However, it was hard to keep his eyes off the guy. Every now and then, he would laugh a bit or make a funny face when watching something on his phone, which Nathan couldn't help but find very attractive.

He was just working on drawing the man's hands, when Nathan suddenly heard someone address him.

"Hey, what are you drawing?" The voice didn't sound rude or unfriendly, but plainly interested. Still, Nathan flinched visibly. The attractive man on the other table had removed one earplug and turned towards Nathan.

"Uh, sorry?" stuttered Nathan, not quite sure how to react. The guy pointed at Nathan's drawing pad and smiled: "You're an artist?"

Nathan could feel the blood rushing to his face. The drawing pad was tilted towards Nathan, so his unvoluntary model could not have seen what exactly Nathan was drawing. He could - no, he should - just lie and tell him he was sketching something in the room. But he just couldn't think of anything and the time for a good answer was running out. Almost involuntarily, Nathan stuttered, with his head red like a tomato: "Uhm, yeah, kind of. I was sketching you, actually."

The guy laughed a short and friendly laugh: "Really? Cool! Can I see it?"

Nathan could feel his heartbeat quicken, and his face got even redder. This was so embarrassing! But he couldn't very well refuse now, could he? So, he placed the pad flat on the table, just as the guy came over and sat himself down on Nathan's table.

"Oh wow!", he sounded impressed. "You're really talented! It's like looking into a mirror."

"Thanks" - Nathan hated getting compliments. Not only didn't he know how to react to them, but he also found them mostly fake. He was an art student, but he wasn't that good really, at least in his own opinion. In the dictionary, there was probably a picture of Nathan right next to the entry for "Imposter Syndrome".

"But why are you drawing me?" Although Nathan had feared that this question might come up, he didn't have a good lie to answer it. It was almost as if his mouth was acting on its own, when Nathan heard himself stammer: "Uh, eh, it's because I... I find you quite handsome actually. Good-looking I mean."

Nathan wished for nothing more than to be swallowed by the earth here and now. But to his big surprise, the guy just laughed again and said: "You think so? Thanks! The name's Oliver by the way." Oliver had, apparently, much less of a problem taking a compliment.

"Nathan." said Nathan and started to relax a tiny bit. However, the situation suddenly got even worse, when Oliver continued, in the same light-hearted voice. "Nice to meet you, Nathan! Are you into guys?"

Nathan froze solid. He hadn't expected that. And even worse, the answer was, of course, yes. But there was no way he could say that, was there? So, instead, he just stared at Oliver with his eyes wide open and a deer-in-headlights look.

"I mean, I'm gay - are you as well?" Oliver explained. "With the whole drawing dudes and all."

Nathan's brain had stopped working properly, so he couldn't help but nod and mumble a faint "yes".

Oliver's smile broadened and he said: "Really? Cool!"

Nathan's mind was racing. He had just admitted his homosexuality. To a complete stranger. Out of the blue. He didn't plan to come out that way, it just... happened.

A moment of awkward silence radiated from Nathan, but, thankfully, Oliver salvaged the situation pretty elegantly.

"Listen Nathan, I'll have to run now. But are you free tomorrow around 2? We could grab a coffee and you could show me some of your drawings if you like."

A spark of bravery, completely foreign to him, awakened in Nathan and he answered: "Y-yes. I think I would like that."

Oliver smiled another of his broad smiles. "Awesome! Let's meet here then tomorrow!"

With that, Oliver nodded at Nathan and left the cafe, putting in his headphone again while humming happily.

Did that really just happen? Nathan looked from the unfinished drawing towards the cafe door. Did he really just... got invited to a date? With a handsome guy named Oliver? Nathan wasn't sure whether to be happy or not. On the one hand, it was a miracle, a once in a lifetime opportunity. A cute and hot guy was actually interested in him! But on the other hand, there was no way he could make a good impression. How desperate had that Oliver guy to be to actually ask *him* out?

A small voice in his head insisted that he could just not show up tomorrow and avoid the whole disappointment. But the spark of bravery was still there, and Nathan fought down the feeling. No, he was going to show. If it turned out to be a disaster, he could still flee the scene - it wasn't like Oliver knew literally anything about him.

Nathan quickly packed his things and returned to his dorm room. Once he arrived, he noticed that he was completely covered in sweat of fear. His shirt showed wet spots under his arms and felt cold to the touch. Disgusted, Nathan immediately went for a shower. Only there, standing under the hot steamy water, Nathan could appreciate what happened. He got *asked out*. On a *date*. With a *guy*. Yesterday he had been certain he would die alone and lonely but then, today, he got *asked out*. Was this really a thing? Did it really happen?

He wasn't sure. He had a hard time believing it. Perhaps the whole thing was just a weird dream? A figment of his imagination. But no. The half-finished drawing was proof enough that Oliver really existed.

When Nathan exited the shower cabin, the whole bathroom was covered in steam, blinding the mirrors. Perhaps this - or the spinning of his thoughts - was the reason that he didn't notice that his hair had changed. Instead of his usual medium length brown-ish hair, he now sported a much shorter hairstyle - in a much darker color, almost black. Be it as it may - Nathan had other things on mind than checking his hair. He spent the whole afternoon and even the evening researching on how to make a good impression on a first date.

The next morning, Nathan slept in, which was pretty unusual for him. His whole frame felt weird, when he crawled out of bed. It wasn't too late, either - he had a comfortable 3 hours until the date. When he passed the bathroom mirror on his morning routine, however, he stopped for a moment. Something was... off about his face. His hair. It looked kind of... different?

Nathan stared at his reflection for a few seconds, straining his mind. Somehow, the shape of his jawbone seemed unfamiliar. And was his hair always that dark, almost black?

Finally, he shook his head. No, he was just seeing things. Of course, that was as it always had been. After having finished his bathroom business, Nathan went for a shower and prepared himself.

An hour later, he stood in front of the mirror, trying out a bunch of outfits and felt slight panic rising inside of him. None of his clothes fit very well, it was like he was cursed! It wasn't that his shirts and pants were much too big or much too small, but for some reason none of his clothes really felt comfortable. Both his favorite shirt and his usual jeans felt somewhat constricting today. Finally, Nathan just put on an outfit, and left his room.

When he entered the cafe, Oliver was already sitting there, two coffee mugs in front of him. He smiled, waved and gestured for Nathan to join him.

"Hello, Nathan!"

"H-hi." said Nathan, his nervousness returning.

"Here, I bought you a coffee!" Oliver pushed one of the mugs over the table.

"Thanks." Nathan was somewhat distracted by the ill-fitting clothes, and he could pretty much feel the nervous sweat practically pouring out of his pores.

"No problem!", said Oliver. "I was early, anyway. How are you doing today?"

"Fine." said Nathan and took a sip of his coffee, trying to hide his nervousness. He vividly remembered all the good advice he had read yesterday, but all that felt just impossible to him.

"So, you're an artist? What do you do?" Oliver asked with genuine interest.

"Well, I study art, I guess. I want to be a concept artist, you know, for games or movies or so. But, eh, right now, I'm just a student, and I'm not really that good."

"That's not how I remember it!" smiled Oliver. "Can you show me more of your work?"

Nathan nodded as he got out his sketchbook. Talking about his art was something he was comfortable with and allowed him to warm up somewhat over the course of the conversation. Oliver appeared to be quite a nice guy and had a lot of questions about drawing, so, Nathan, in turn, started to relax and talk more freely. He found out that Oliver was a veterinary technician and had a part time job at a dog shelter. That, combined with the fact that he was, in general, a really nice and positive guy, made him incredibly appealing to Nathan.

After the two had talked for a while, Oliver suddenly remarked: "You know, I really like your stubble! It really suits you!"

Stubble? What was he talking about? Nathan rarely needed to shave, but he had done so this morning, so, it was absolutely impossible that he should have visible facial hair. And yet, as he felt his chin, his fingers met with bristly short hair, so dense and long that there was no way he could have missed it this morning. Nathan found it strange, to say the least, but didn't want to make a scene in this situation. His spark of courage was a small candle flame now, as he just smiled while he felt his chin and said "Thank you!"

The two continued to chat a bit. While doing so, Nathan tried not to think too much about the fact that his clothes were, somehow, tighter than before.

Finally, Oliver's phone buzzed, and he looked at the screen.

"Damn, it's that late already?"

"What is it?", asked Nathan.

"Oh, the dog shelter. I have a shift soon, I need to go!"

Nathan sighed inwardly. He was really enjoying the date and didn't want it to end. He was pulled out of his thoughts by the feeling of Olivers hand on his. It felt... good. Good and strange, like the texture of his own hand was somewhat wrong, somewhat rougher than before. When he looked up into Oliver's eyes, he found the other man smiling.

"I really enjoyed this. You are a wonderful person, Nathan. We should do this again."

Nathan nodded. He didn't trust his voice right now.

"How about... tomorrow?", Oliver continued. "There's an art exhibition in town, perhaps you would like to go there with me?"

Nathan's heart jumped a beat. He didn't have time or courage yet to go to the exhibition and the prospect of seeing Oliver again so soon was wonderful.

"I would very much like that", Nathan replied and smiled.

"Great! Let's meet there, say at 5?"

"Sure!"

Oliver smiled his beautiful, broad smile, and stood up, leaving some money for the coffees on the table. Nathan too got up, but before he could leave, Oliver stopped him with a warm expression in his eyes. "You know, I really think I like you a lot." He said, and his hand touched Nathan's somewhat bristly cheek. Almost automatically, both of their faces drew closer to each other, until their lips met with the slightest touch. It was a chaste, short kiss, but Nathan could feel Oliver's lips smile when they broke apart.

"See you tomorrow!", said Oliver and left the cafe.

Nathan's knees felt weak, and his heart was beating rapidly. There were a thousand feeling, all happening inside him at once and Nathan needed a moment to sort through them before he was able to move again. There was a part of him that couldn't quite believe what just happened, but the biggest part was just euphoric. He basically jogged back to his home, full of a never experienced energy.

When he arrived in his room, his body was feeling even weirder than before. All of his clothes were way too tight. It was not just that he felt constricted, no, the clothes actually were much too small. He quickly got rid of them, noticing that, again, he had sweated like a pig. As Nathan glanced down on himself, he could almost see that his body was somehow different. Fitter, healthier. It was probably just his imagination, though, caused by his ecstatic mood. He briefly considered taking another shower but postponed it to tomorrow. There would be plenty of time and Nathan felt really glad and tired for today.

Nathan woke up from two different feelings the next morning. First, he felt itchy and sweaty all over his body and was subconsciously scratching himself in his sleep. Second, and perhaps even more importantly, Nathan was experiencing a severe case of morning wood. His manhood was rigid and pulsating under his sheets and was begging for attention. Nathan had a hard time remembering when he last experienced such an urgent urge to jerk off. He wasn't sure, but the memories of their kissing yesterday came to his mind as soon as he woke up, so, he couldn't resist closing his hand around his hard cock and started pumping. His hand felt rough and big, and Nathan couldn't be sure, but both length and girth of his tool seemed increased, too. However, Nathan could hardly concentrate on that due to the waves of pleasure washing over him.

It didn't take very long for Nathan to shoot a big load onto his stomach, with a moan. It was a big and sticky load, too, mixing with the little dark hairs on his stomach and chest. Nathan blinked in post-nut clarity. Hairs? He didn't have body hair.

Nathan got up quickly and went to the bathroom. Something about his perspective was off, too. It was like the ceiling was closer than it was supposed to be, and the ground further away. Once Nathan had used some toilet paper to wipe away most of the cum, he took a look at himself in the mirror. There was no denying that he looked different. He was definitely somewhat taller and broader than before. He didn't have a scale, but he was sure that he had gained quite some weight as well - not only due to the increased height and broader shoulders but also because his previous stickman-like appearance had been altered quite somewhat. All over his frame, a lean definition was visible, hinting at muscles even. His chin was covered in visible stubble and there was a bit of body hair visible, mainly on his chest and stomach as well as peeking out under his armpit.

Speaking of which, as Nathan raised his arm to look at his pits, a certain smell reached his nose. A musky, manly, slightly sweaty odor that wasn't quite unpleasant but was certainly unfamiliar.

Nathan had a hard time wrapping his mind around what he was seeing. There was no denying he looked *good*. He just didn't look exactly like *himself*. And for some reason, this didn't bother Nathan quite as much as it probably should. He should be panicking or calling a doctor. People didn't just grow taller overnight or put on definition without working out. And yet, Nathan only felt a slight bit of curiosity and a weak impulse that he probably *should* work out then.

Nathan shook his head and went back to his bedroom. He didn't bother putting on clothing and tried to pass the time until afternoon. The only thing that he *really* regretted about his sudden changes was that his favorite shirt and jeans would definitely not fit anymore.

He ended up watching a bit of TV and browsing the internet, before he decided it was time to prepare himself. Finding clothes that would fit now proved to be quite a challenge, but in the end, he settled on a plain t-shirt and some cargo pants. He had bought both of them a number too big by mistake, which came in quite handy now.

Walking through the city was a strange experience. He felt good about himself and held his head high. Combined with the fact that Nathan's head was, indeed, higher than before, it was like seeing the city in a whole new perspective. Less looking at the ground and more looking straight ahead.

His new posture seemed to have another effect, too. Where before he had to avoid people, trying not to get in their way, now they seemed to be stepping aside for him, which was a foreign but not unpleasant experience.

Finally, he arrived at the exhibition and found Oliver already waiting for him. They greeted with a hug and a short kiss, both fully reciprocated by Nathan, and went inside. Although Oliver seemed to notice something was off about Nathan, he didn't mention it and apparently forgot about it quickly.

Today, Nathan found it much easier to talk to Oliver and brought up topics by himself.

The exhibition however was kind of a let-down for Nathan. Although he could judge on a rational level that the art presented here was really well-done and interesting, on a purely emotional level, Nathan found it mind-numbingly boring. The conversation steered away from the art quickly, and more towards personal matters, which was a relief. So, even though they didn't care much about the paintings around them, the two of them ended up wandering around the exhibition for hours, talking and having a good time.

During the date, however, Nathan was quickly experiencing an unfamiliar feeling. The company of Oliver was... exciting. Exciting on a sexual, primal level. Nathan's larger manhood grew semi-hard in his underwear quickly, so Nathan had to readjust himself more than once. At first, he was very self-conscious about it and tried to be as subtle as possible. However, with every push his cock needed in order not to be too obvious, Nathan actually cared less about who saw him readjust himself. He was a guy after all, and all big-dicked men had that particular problem from time to time.

Besides forming a bulge in his groin, however, his constantly semi-hard cock did one more thing: Nathan was leaking precum in his underwear. First, it was just a drop or two on an involuntary throb, but it quickly became more. His underwear was feeling damp before long, and a faint note of sexuality mixed into his still present smell.

After a while, Oliver even commented on it, in his usual upbeat way: "Hey, Nathan, I have to say, you smell pretty good. Are you using cologne?"

Nathan hadn't noticed his own smell too much. His first impulse was to apologize, but the burning campfire of courage inside of him quickly told him otherwise. Oliver didn't complain. In fact, he liked it.

So, Nathan answered with a grin: "Nope. That's just how I smell."

Oliver took another whiff of the mixture of sweat, dried cum and precum and smiled. "Well, I like it!"

Nathan wasn't quite sure how to react, and just said: "Thanks!"

The exhibition was closing down soon, and Nathan offered Oliver to accompany him to the train station, which he gladly accepted. When they parted, they kissed again. This time, it wasn't a small, timid kiss like before, but a long, sexual one that made Nathan's dick twitch like mad in the confines of his pants. Since their bodies were pressed closely together, Nathan could be sure that Oliver felt the movement against his own groin.

Only after they broke the kiss, Nathan noticed that he was now looking down on Oliver slightly. He could have sworn that Oliver had been slightly taller than him yesterday.

There was no telling on how the evening would have continued hadn't it been for Oliver's train to arrive just then. Before Oliver could board the train, however, Nathan grinned at him and said: "Dinner tomorrow? The Italian place downtown, at 6?"

"I would love that!"

They kissed again and Nathan watched as the train pulled out. Then, he went back to his dorm, whistling a happy tune. It didn't even occur to him that he had taken the initiative in asking Oliver out for a third date. The fire of confidence was burning bright inside of him.

When he came home, Nathan immediately stripped out of his clothes. Even the larger shirt had become somewhat tight. He took a short look at it. There was a wet patch under both arms from his constant sweating, and the t-shirt had adapted his smell. There was something else in the smell, though. At the chest region, there was a medium sized stain, machine oil from the smell of it. Nathan wondered briefly how he could have missed it this morning but then diverted his attention to more pressing matters. His cock was fully hard and was poking out from the waistband of his briefs. Nathan hadn't had an erection like that since puberty and, if he was honest with himself, the feeling was rather nice. Without hesitation, he closed his hand around his hard meat and gave it a few experimental pumps. A low growl escaped his mouth, and a shiver went through his body. He didn't want to go slow, he wanted to fuck. His mind was focused on the task at hand. He didn't even bother to close his curtains, as he went for it. Nathan was jacking himself off, fast and hard, growling and groaning, until he finally exploded all over his chest and face, shooting multiple loads of thick white cum everywhere.

As Nathan was catching his breath, the smell of cum was heavy in the room. God, he needed that. Ever since he met Oliver today. He wiped his face and chest with his discarded t-shirt and briefly considered if he wanted to take a shower. The smell emanating from him was rather strong now, but still, he didn't want to. Oliver seemed to like his body odor, and, if Nathan was being honest, he did so himself, too.

Nathan was woken by his alarm the next morning. As his mind came to focus, his hand reached for the smartphone automatically and dismissed the alarm. He yawned and stretched. He was really looking forward to today. Given, it was the last day before classes started again, but he was going to a third date with Oliver this evening!

When Nathan crawled out of bed and went for his bathroom, however, his body felt weird again. The muscles had become more defined over the course of the last two days and now, the whole body structure felt *strong*. The few hairs from before had become a small forest of body hair and the stubble had grown thicker. He still didn't feel the need for a shave, though.

Nathan wasn't quite sure about the whole situation. Of course, he was enjoying the change. On the other hand, ... No, fuck the other hand. This was great, plain and simple. He finished his morning business standing up while peeing, which he usually never did. But right now, it just felt *right*.

After that, he inspected his wardrobe. He had half-feared that he would need to go and buy new clothes, but apparently, overnight his wardrobe had changed as well. It was filled with sturdy cargos or work pants as well as simple shirts and the occasional overall. Good!

His underwear choice had also changed. Instead of briefs or boxers, the drawer was now filled with jockstraps. That made sense, of course - only a jockstrap would set his large dick in the right scene.

None of the clothes qualified as "clean". Sure, they had been washed before they went into the wardrobe, but permanent grease or oil stains had permeated the fabric just as Nathan's manly stink - both marks no washing machine could ever erase entirely.

Nathan grabbed one of the pants and smelled it. He couldn't help but smile. This was his smell. This was *his* smell. His manly, sweaty, dirty, horny smell. He even felt his ever-present dick twitch a bit at the smell. Nathan wasn't sure if he would ever get used to this new reality. Or if this even was the final reality.

The hours passed quickly. Nathan was keeping himself busy, playing games or listened to music. Not once did it occur to him to draw something or even look at his art. This new him wasn't particularly creative, it seemed.

Nathan's mind wandered back to the date this evening. He couldn't wait to see Oliver again. In fact, he couldn't wait for more than that. It was a third date and Nathan wanted to go all the way with Oliver. He wanted to take his ass and fuck it into oblivion.

At around 5 pm, Nathan stood in front of the Italian place, waiting for Oliver. When Oliver finally arrived, the two men greeted each other with a passionate kiss. Nathan could tell that the kiss was having an effect on Oliver, as his breathing was quicker than usual.

They went inside and sat down on a table. Almost automatically, Nathan's legs spread wide, taking up space, establishing presence and, most importantly, giving his equipment the necessary space. The *old* Nathan would have sat with his legs closed or even crossed, in order to not draw any attention to himself. However, the new Nathan didn't want to draw *less* attention.

The two chatted a bit, with the main topic of the conversation being the menu, before ordering. When he spoke, Nathan noted that his voice had dropped an octave, making his voice gravely and his laugh a low rumble. When Oliver had chosen, Nathan summoned the waiter and ordered for the both of them, his lower voice full of confidence. For Nathan, it was a large meat pizza and a beer.

"You know, I have never seen you drink before", remarked Oliver.

"I don't usually", replied Nathan. "But I thought I'd have a beer today."

"You're not driving, are you?"

"Na, I'm here on foot."

Oliver smiled his usual smile. "I'm here by car, so if you like, I can give you a ride home afterwards."

There seemed to be some subtext to this offer, but it went over Nathan's head. Not that it was necessary, because he had the exact same plans, anyway.

"Sounds great!"

A couple of minutes later, their pizzas arrived, and the two dug in.

"I really like your style, Nathan." said Oliver after a while.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, the way you dress. The way you talk. The way you act."

"Oh. Thanks."

Nathan thought for a moment before he added: "You know, I go by Nate these days."

"Nate, eh?", smiled Oliver.

"Yeah. Fits better, you know."

"I guess so. I like it a lot!"

"I like your style, too."

"What do you mean by that?", Oliver laughed.

"Just, the way you talk, the way you walk. Everything. You're cute, you know."

"Why, thank you!"

The conversation was definitely a lot more flirtatious than yesterday. When they had finished their meals, they didn't linger much longer in the restaurant but got into Oliver's car.

Nate proceeded to give Oliver directions to his home. However, at a certain crossing, he had to stop and think for a moment. He knew for a fact that his dorm was to the left. But he also knew for a fact that his *home* was to the right. Nate decided not to overthink it and directed Oliver to the right with a firm voice.

They didn't get very far from that point, when suddenly, the car stopped with a jerk.

"Damn, sorry!" said Oliver. "The engine is acting up again. It's probably too cold or something like that. I'll just try to start it up again."

When after the third try, the engine didn't start again, Nate laid a hand on Oliver's. "Let me try." he said with a confident voice and left the car. When he opened the hood, the problem became clear to him right away.

"The carburetor is a bit clogged, I'll unclog it real quick and we're ready to go."

While Oliver was staring at Nate in surprise, as the latter quickly and with trained skill removed a few parts and then, with a flex of his mighty arms, applied percussive maintenance to the part in question. After Nate had reassembled the engine, he cleaned his hands on his pants and got into the car again, filling out the passenger seat with his presence.

"It should work again for now, but I'll have to clean it thoroughly tomorrow. The thing is just old and worn down, it needs replacing soon. Just try starting the engine."

Oliver was still staring at Nate with a disbelieving look on his face. Finally, however, he tried starting the engine again, and the car did indeed start running smoothly.

"Wow, Nate, that was amazing! Where did you learn that?"

"What do you mean", grinned Nate. "That's what I do!"

Oliver stared at him for a moment. "Wait, you're a mechanic?"

"Yeah, sure, didn't I tell you when we met?"

Oliver seemed to think about it but then slowly nodded: "Yes, I... think so. Weird. I could have sworn..."

Nate shrugged and pointed down the road: "Shall we go?"

They arrived at Nate's place shortly after. He had a cheap apartment directly over the car garage where he worked. Nate did try to clean up a bit the afternoon, but the place still screamed "Manly bachelor" all over the place with the occasional beer can or jockstrap scattered around.

Neither of them had time to care, though. As soon as the door closed, the two kissed. It wasn't just a chaste, romantic kiss. This was a heated, passionate kiss, full of desire and lust. Nate took Oliver's body and pushed him against the wall, grinding their bodies together. Both were hard and their breathing was rapid. Nate's hands wandered up and down Oliver's body, squeezing and grabbing his body. His fingers were strong and forceful, and he squeezed the smaller man's buttocks and his dick with the same intensity. Oliver responded by moaning and pushing his groin against Nate's, humping him.

Suddenly, Nate broke the kiss. "Oliver, I... I want you. I want to fuck you."

Oliver didn't answer, but kissed Nate again, harder this time. Nate's tongue invaded his mouth, and the bigger man's hands were ripping Oliver's shirt and pants off him. Once Oliver's dick was free, it was enveloped by Nate's big calloused hand, and Oliver's breath hitched in his throat.

"Oh god, Nate, yes!" he moaned.

Nate had enough of foreplay, and he wanted to fuck, now. Without wasting any time, he quickly pushed his pants down and pressed his dick against Oliver's. It was massive, even compared to Oliver's not insignificant size. While Nate's balls were big and heavy, his cock was thick, long, and veiny, with a fat mushroom head. It was also rock hard, and the head was already drooling precum.

With one hand, Nate stroked the two cocks together, rubbing them and smearing the precum all over his dick and Oliver's. With the other hand, he pulled Oliver close and kissed him again, a long, sensual, passionate kiss, which made Oliver moan into his mouth.

The two stood like that for a while, but finally, Nate's need to fuck was stronger than anything else.

"Bedroom. Now!" he growled and dragged the smaller man with him. Once there, Nate simply tossed him onto the bed and followed quickly, his cock pointing up. He positioned himself on top of the other man and kissed him again, their tongues dancing in their mouths.

When the kiss broke, Oliver was panting.

"You really are a big boy, huh?"

"Damn right I am."

"Oh god, I need your big dick inside of me!"

"Yeah? You want me to fuck you?"

"Please! I've wanted to feel your huge meat in me for days."

"Fuck yeah. You're gonna get it."

Nate reached under his bed and produced a bottle of lube, which he applied liberally to his dick.

"You're ready?"

"Do it, big guy."

Nate placed the head of his massive cock against the tight pucker and started to push. Slowly but steadily, his dick invaded Oliver's ass.

"Oooooooooh god, Nate, yesssssss!" moaned Oliver.

The pressure around Nate's dick was unbelievable. Oliver was clearly tight, and the way his asshole was massaging his dick felt heavenly.

Finally, Nate's dick was balls-deep inside Oliver. Both were breathing heavily, and Oliver was moaning incoherently. Nate gave him a moment to adjust and then started moving his hips, first slowly, but increasing his pace quickly. Soon, he was slamming into Oliver's ass as hard as he could, pulling almost completely out and then thrusting back inside the smaller man.

"Fuck yeah! You like that? You like my huge dick pounding your tight little ass?"

"God, yes, Nate, fuck me, fuck meeee!"

Nate was groaning and growling, a sound that came deep from his chest and made Oliver moan even louder.

"Oh shit, Nate, I'm so close! Don't stop, please don't stop, don't st- ooooooooh gooooooood!"

Nate felt Oliver's muscles clamp down on his dick, and that sent him over the edge. He buried his dick as deep as he could and shot a big load of cum deep into Oliver's guts.

The two of them collapsed on each other, spent but happy.

A lot had changed for Nathan in this new year. He had gotten a new body, a new job, a new identity even. But most importantly, he had found love. Nate the manly mechanic sighed. If he were to describe his feelings, looking into the future, there was only one fitting word: Confidence.

I actually generated a ton (okay, 50) of images for this story. If you want to check out the alternate versions of the different stages of Nathan/Nate, check out my tip jar, where I posted them!

#male transformation #muscle transformation #dumbing down #hairy #mental transformation #sweat #musk #romance

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dontsh0vethesun · 8 months

Text

misunderstandings

part five of home for christmas

natasha romanoff x reader

The hallmark movie inspired Christmas story that nobody asked for.

Natasha Romanoff fell out of love with Christmas, but perhaps a certain someone could help her find the festive magic once again.

Coming home to her small hometown from her life in New York City, the children’s author is reunited with the people of her past; some are happier to see her than others.

But, will rekindled relationships inspire the Christmas story she’s struggling to write? Or will she go home empty handed?

these gays are dumb, glimpses of the past, idiots in love, they’re actually just so stupid, christmas, probably too much dialogue

a/n- ik it’s not christmas anymore but there’s only one more part!! also my christmas was dookie so i’m letting myself take ages on this <3

part one | part two | part three | part four | part six

wc: 3.6k

“I heard there’s an update on the Natasha situation,” Sam smiled, his grin was mischievous and you almost wish you weren’t so attuned to his compulsion to stick his nose into business that’s not his.

“Where’d you hear that?” you answered, directing a pointed look in Wanda’s direction whilst she worked on a coffee order.

“Don’t look at me,” she defended, raising her hands in surrender.

“I’m an intuitive guy,” Sam smirked in return. “I don’t need anyone to tell me, the weird look all over your face is all I need.”

“You need to be this invested in your own life,” you groaned. “Where’s James these days, huh?”

“I’m not falling for that trap,” Sam laughed. “What happened? What’re your feelings? Please tell me,” the man practically begged.

“Fine,” you conceded with a sigh, leaning against the counter whilst there was no line of customers needing your attention. “We bumped into her at the fair last night, that’s all.”

Your dismissive shrug on the topic was not enough to appease him, however, and the faux scowl he addressed you with was enough to let you know that he was aware of your downplaying of the situation.

“Alright, fine,” you groaned with a roll of your eyes. “We talked a little and I’m still confused,” you surmised.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Did she apologise? Are there…butterflies? Give me something,” Sam pleaded. “I need to know whether to give her cookies laced with laxatives or not.”

You laughed at his seriousness - it may have happened a couple of times during high school but you all took an oath of secrecy.

“She didn’t apologise,” you frowned, trying to keep your face as neutral as possible lest you allow your apprehension on the topic to swallow you whole. “She seems different though. I want her, so badly, to be different. But maybe I’m stupid to hope for something - maybe we really just aren’t a good match.”

Sam’s eyes were soft and comforting, his lips parted to speak before another voice piped up opposite you. Kamala had arrived for her daily hot chocolate - extra whipped cream and marshmallows, of course. She takes the promise of free drinks for friends very liberally.

“As someone who’s been trying their hardest to be neutral,” she started. “You did look cute together last night - and the way she looks at you - God, it’s like a real-life rom-com. Kind of gross, actually,” she rambled on. “By the way, I wasn’t eavesdropping.”

“You weren’t?” You smirked, eyebrow twitching in question.

“No,” Kamala quickly replied with a shake of her head. “It was just, uh, intuition.”

“Wow, you might have a superpower there, Mala,” you scoffed laughingly.

“Really though, it definitely seemed like there was something there - on both sides.”

“I dunno,” you sighed with an exasperated shake of your head, cheeks flooding with heat at the three pairs of eyes witnessing your bashful feelings towards a certain redhead. Whether you hide it or not, all of your closest friends have developed a certain sense of reading between the lines painfully well. After all of these years, you suppose it’s merely a trait of a strongly entwined bond. It doesn’t make it any less annoying, though.

“At the risk of forcing you into a ‘mushy and embarrassing’ state, as you call it,” Wanda voiced from beside you. “What are you feeling about her now? You were pretty good at avoiding my questions last night,” she smiled with a poke of her finger into your side.

It was a tricky feat for you to let yourself be raw and vulnerable, it never is a comfortable thing. But, with a problem you were struggling to make sense of on your own paired with the sickeningly sweet and supportive smiles directed your way, it was harder to keep it all in than let it out.

“It - it kinda feels like before. Like, no time has passed, y’know?”

“In a good way?” Kamala asked.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I dunno, it’s like, somehow, all of those things I felt towards her all those years ago had never actually left. Like they were just sitting there in my stomach waiting for the right time to come back out.”

“It kinda sounds like you know what you wanna do then,” Sam smiled.

“I think I might,” you nodded. You tried to smile but the nerves that made their way throughout your body made it difficult and, as though it was written all over your face, your friends seemed to know just what to do to bring that smile out. You were pulled into Wanda’s familiar hug with Sam closing his arms around you from the other side and with some difficulty you were manoeuvred into Kamala’s reach. It was hard not to laugh at the glimpse you caught of her, leaning across the counter, practically kneeling on a plate of cookies nearby as she stretched out to join the embrace.

Whatever happens next, they’ll be there for you.

—

Meanwhile, Yelena sat cross-legged on Natasha’s childhood bed whilst her sister lay on her back with her eyes directed at the ceiling. She could still see the mark left behind from the glow-in-the-dark stickers you’d struggled to plaster up there, ones that had slowly begun to fall down. She’d never had the heart to throw them away and the used and tattered celestials still sat in the drawer of her desk.

“This is exhausting, Natasha,” the blonde groaned. Having been witness to it all from the beginning, watching it all play out as it has has been nothing short of tedious for her. She’s never been patient and this was no different. In her trademark Yelena fashion, she resents the long and drawn-out trail of feelings being muddled up and left behind, she would rather you both get on with it.

“You don’t think I know that?” her sister sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s complicated,” Yelena mocked in a less-than-perfect impression of Natasha’s voice. “What’s so difficult, huh? You’ve always had the hots for her, she’s always ogled you, it’s simple.”

“It’s a little more nuanced than that,” she mumbled. “So much time has passed and I made a stupid mistake. I left her behind, Lena. I just left and didn’t come back - she deserves better than somebody who’d just do that.”

“You were stupid,” Yelena agreed. She didn’t let her role as Natasha’s sister blur the lines between right and wrong, when it came to what she did she didn’t shy away from berating her.

She remembered the evening it happened, the redhead coming home in tears that were a rare sight to see. She held a book in her hand that was soon shoved to the back of her wardrobe to never see the light again; she comforted her sister as best as she could but by the time she’d unmuddled the series of events Natasha was already gone. She’d made plenty of phone calls telling her sister to come and make it right but the fear had sunk its claws in and nothing she said swayed it in her favour.

“I know I was - I know. But, when I saw her that night with Pietro it just looked so real. I think I was looking for a reason to chicken out of telling her, y’know?”

“And letting yourself believe she was already dating someone was easier than her rejecting you,” Yelena nodded. She understood her sister’s reasonings no matter how illogical they truly are.

“Yeah,” she nodded with a sigh. “I mean, she’s so perfect, it wouldn’t have surprised me if he’d been lucky enough to date her. I saw it, so why wouldn’t somebody else?”

“Okay, I didn’t mean to listen but you know I can’t help myself,” Melina suddenly announced from the doorway. Of course, she’d decided to come upstairs just as a ‘confidential’ conversation was occurring. “You never told me all this.”

“That’s because you’re a gossip,” Natasha groaned, sitting up against her headboard whilst her mother took a seat on the bed too.

“I just like knowing things,” she shrugged. “So, tell me what happened.”

“Fine,” she sighed, rolling her eyes at the clear excitement on Melina’s face. “So, it was Christmas Eve, the first one after starting college. At that point, it was like we were still in high school, we were all in contact and we were all meeting up on the weekends - nothing had changed.”

“Mhm, I remember,” Melina nodded. “I was scared you were all gonna drift apart, well, until you were the one that separated from them.”

“Yeah,” Natasha sighed with a frown. “So, we were all here and I’d had a lot of time to think. I mean, I was at a different college - she was at the same one as the Maximoff’s - and, it was a lot of time without her. It gave me a lot of time to think about her, it was so different not having her at my side all the time, y’know? So it made me realise that I just had to suck it up and be honest with us both about how I feel about her.”

“I think you two were the only ones not to know,” Melina muttered beneath her breath, earning an agreeing laugh from Yelena.

“Anyway,” she scowled. “I guess it was something I was always trying to avoid. I didn’t want it to ruin the friendship we had but it got so hard to ignore. All of my assignments - the stories I’d write - they all ended up being about her. It was like all of the feelings I tried so hard to ignore were just forcing their way out like they were too big to keep down.”

She took a breath and cleared her throat, blushed at the mere thought of you and let the comfort of her mother’s hand on her arm urge her to carry on.

“I wrote her this story - it seems so silly now,” she scoffed. “It was so cheesy - the kind of thing we’d make fun of - but I couldn’t help myself. I illustrated it and wrapped a red bow around it - it was hideous but I knew it’d make her smile. And, on Christmas Eve, I made my way to where I knew she’d be.

“God, just remembering it is so ridiculous. I don’t know why I let myself get in my head,” she grumbled with a shake of her head. “She was there, sitting in the quiet part of the town square, but she was only there with Pietro. Looking back, I know that Wanda must’ve been on her way but in that moment nothing was logical.

“I stood there, just looking at her for a second. I watched her laugh and I remember being amazed that my heart truly did feel like it skipped a beat - I always thought that was just some cliche until her. And as I stood there just watching, I saw Pietro point to this piece of mistletoe hanging above them. I thought it was funny at first and carried on walking to them but then his hand was on her cheek and in my mind that was enough to make me turn back around. I suppose I thought that, in the time they’d had together whilst I’d been away, they’d - I dunno - realised feelings?”

“Oh, Natasha,” Melina whispered.

“I know. It was stupid - it was probably just some joke but I was so scared. You know I’ve never been the kind of person to wear their heart on their sleeve and that was the perfect out my brain was looking for.”

“You caused yourself so much pain, honey. So much pain you didn’t need because you feared she didn’t feel the same?”

“I suppose so,” she nodded. “I thought that, maybe, if she was happy it was enough. So, I went back to college and left it all behind. I felt awful, I did, but I wanted to keep myself away for both of our sakes. If I wasn’t there, she could get on with her life and I could try and move on. I put all of my focus into studying and then into my work - I found that pushing away all of those things that hurt me would just shield me from coming to terms with things.

“So, the friendship I tried to protect was ruined because of me. Because I was scared.”

“But now? How are things with her this time?”

“I think - I know that I still adore her. And, if she’ll have me, I would want nothing more than to just let her know how I’ve felt for all my life.”

—

Before Natasha had begun to associate Christmas with the ache in her heart, the 24th of December was a treasured occasion.

The group of you had always met up, sneaking eggnog from her parent’s fridge when you were younger, sharing it around with sips from a shared glass around a makeshift fire you’d conjure up in the garden. The cup would be passed around in secrecy and clumsily hidden beneath a blanket when an adult would approach.

As you grew closer, the two of you began to uphold a tradition and for the couple of years leading up to her departure, you’d meet up before the remainder of the group arrived. She’d meet you at the cafe with two hot chocolates in hand and she’d offer you her jacket no matter what; she always did and you always declined but it made your cheeks hot to the touch. She’d always refrain from reaching out to feel the warmth beneath her palm.

You’d walk back to her house taking the long route just to savour one another's company and neither of you would think too much about the hand she’d rest on your back whenever you’d cross the road.

You’d sit beneath the decorated canopy in the middle of town, watching people enjoy the festivities, failing to hold in your amusement when people would slip on icy ground. She’d look up at the mistletoe and swear she’d kiss you beneath the winter sprig one day, that she’d use it as one of her many excuses to press her lips to yours. She would imagine that you’d tell her she didn’t need a reason to kiss you, that she could do it whenever she liked, but she’d find any moment she could to feel your lip balm-coated mouth with the tip of her tongue.

The one year you had forgotten your gloves and, for practicality of course, she linked her hand with yours for warmth and left it there until she was leading you up to her front door. You’d help her mother with preparations for the evening’s party whilst Natasha would smile at the close relationship the two of you shared. And when the rest of the invitees would trickle in, she’d revel in your laugh. The one you’d let out at something Kate or Kamala would say when recounting the goings on of their days and the giggle you’d share with Wanda whilst having hushed conversations in the corner.

…

The last Christmas Eve you’d seen Natasha until this year, was the same as always. You were planning on meeting Natasha at your usual spot, only an hour after leaving the Maximoff twins where they were.

You sat with Pietro whilst Wanda made her way back with a cup of hot tea for herself and a latte for her brother; they were meeting up with Monica and Carol before the annual party and you were waiting with them until it was time for you to go. You’d told them you had some last-minute shopping to do and they bought the excuse - you felt rather smug at your deception and were pleased to keep your tradition with Natasha a secret. It wouldn’t be the same if it turned into a group affair - you didn’t admit that you merely wanted her for yourself. Even if it was for only a couple of hours.

You missed the teasing grin on Pietro’s face when he’d spotted the mistletoe above you and only realised what he was doing when he tugged it from its place and held it above your faces.

“Ew, Pietro,” you’d laughed, shoving him away whilst he faked a warm look your way.

“There’s something I simply must say,” he joked, cupping your cheek with a soft hand. He inched closer and closer whilst you held in your laugh, acting into the joke of a scene he was creating. “I- wow, this is hard to say,” he sighed. “I just need you to know that - that I forgot to get you a gift and just added my name to Wanda’s.”

You gasped before you both laughed.

“That actually better be a joke.”

You waited for Natasha until you got a text saying she was stuck helping her mum and the rest of the evening was sullied with some kind of unspoken melancholy that you could not understand.

…

Two weeks ago, Natasha was called into her editor’s office to be given the task of creating a winter story. She listened to the requirements she was expected to reach; a heartfelt children’s book, the wonder of winter with a happy ending.

It wasn’t something she was overly familiar with anymore. The magic of the season had long left her when she left you and, though she accepted the job, she was unsure of how to complete it. Her books always held a part of her, every story she wrote had a piece of her soul bared throughout the pages.

She’d gone home and began to plan, sipping a glass of red wine whilst her laptop screen remained blank.

After a few days of sitting on the problem she’d been presented with, and a lengthy conversation with her closest friend in New York, she thought it time to visit home. After all of this time away she thought she could go back easily enough, feelings may have been dulled and the town that was the epitome of a winter wonderland would fuel her creativity.

She just didn’t expect to take one look at you and have every feeling she’d ever held for you to come flooding to the surface. It was quite a story indeed.

And, though she was apprehensive at first, she’d found that opening up the warm-hearted part of her that she had forced closed many moons ago was just the spark she needed. She’d found inspiration at home - her true home. She found it with you.

…

Your heart was beating with the buzz of nerves in your chest, stomach swarming whilst your palms grew clammy despite the biting cold that came with the slowly falling snow.

Each step up the Romanoff’s driveway drew you closer to a conversation that made your head blurred. It had taken the entire group of your friends to give you the courage to leave your apartment for this; despite the way it was your decision to confess the feelings that were eating you whole, you were the one holding yourself back.

After much convincing, you bit the bullet to finally let yourself pull your heart from your chest and hand it over. They’d all assured you they were a phone call away no matter what happens.

You almost dared to turn back as soon as your knuckles tapped against the translucent window of the front door; you could see the blurry sight of a Christmas wreath against the glass and you could hear Yelena shout that she would answer the knock.

“Oh, hi,” she smiled as soon as she saw you, taking in your nervous appearance.

“Hi, Yelena,” you returned. “Um, is Natasha here?”

“No, actually,” she answered. “She went for a walk - think she said she might be going to the bar. You might be able to catch up with her if you hurry.”

“Alright, thanks, Lena,” you smiled. “See you tomorrow,” you finished with a wave.

“See you tomorrow,” she smirked, clearly planning to go and conspire with Melina about why you might be looking for her sister.

It wasn’t a particularly long walk, and the few minutes it took only enabled you to think about what you were going to say. You had it planned as perfectly as you could get it, a curated script you hoped she’d conform with. You’d risk making a fool of yourself otherwise, treading with the possibility of letting your butterfly inducing feelings for her get the best of you.

And, when you saw the bar ahead of you it only made your heart hit against your chest even faster. You saw the back of her head through the window, hair plaited and falling against her jacket; somehow, just seeing her, made your steps grow almost up to speed with your heart.

You opened the door into the bustling building, making your way past a few people with the subtle scent of beer lingering in the air.

You saw her before she saw you. The large grin that pulled at her eyes was directed elsewhere, though, and the hug she stood up to take part in was not with you. Her body locked with another woman’s, somebody she was familiar with by the way it lingered. Her cheek was kissed and her smile never wavered and your heart that had been beating so quickly you feared it might explode was now still, sitting in your throat as you swallowed thickly.

They shared large smiles and their hands entwined atop the small wooden table.

You couldn’t see anymore. Your fists clenched at your sides and you left as quickly as you arrived, not sparing a glance backwards. If you couldn’t be with her tonight, you wanted to be alone.

#au: home for christmas #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #marvel fanfic #natasha romanoff

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 months

Text

ep 1. but i’ll miss you | myj, jjk

sugar, spice, and everything nice ep 1. but i'll miss you.

pairing(s): yoonji (fem!myg) x reader x jungkook

summary: Sugar? Min Yoonji. Spice? The woman at the park. Everything nice? Jeon Jungkook (he is freaking annoying, though). The accidental chemical X? Well, the woman in the park that Min Yoonji finds incredibly attractive is kinda-dating-definitely-fucking Jeon Jungkook. And he's very obviously in love with her.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; Yoonji is pansexual and still in the closet; internalized homophobia + moments of gay panic; ft. best friend group, OT6 (specifically Kim Seokjin, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung during the bowling hangout), best friend!Jung Hoseok is at military service (sad); f/f/m love triangle? slow burn; there will be smut in the future; non-idol!AU - Yoonji's POV

set in South Korea, Karrot is resale app for clothing, furniture, etc

“What does it taste like?”

That mere smile sent chills down her spine.

“Sweet.”

There was nothing to say to that. She looked away, not wanting to look into those eyes anymore. Didn’t ask for a bite. It wasn’t hers. It seemed to be a homemade dessert of soft silken tofu and heavy ginger syrup. The kind of sugar syrup that was heavier than the tofu. The dark viscous liquid dripped between the cracks of puffy white, seeping into the decadence, similar to the way those scorched eyes seemed to see past any defense Min Yoonji had.

She didn’t know how she got into this position, yet here she was.

Sigh.

Inwardly, she wished her best friend Jung Hoseok was here. He wasn’t because he was busy fulfilling his service of being a Korean man. Hmph. Well, Yoonji could have come alone. She had done it before. She was tough enough. But something about this this had given her a bad feeling, so she had asked if a friend could accompany her to help pick up the light fixture that she had found on Karrot.

That friend being Jeon Jungkook.

Shit, Yoonji really fucked up asking Jeon Jungkook.

“I’m sorry, noona, but something came up! I messed up my knee. I’ll send my friend instead. Don’t worry. You’ll be safe!”

Now she was sitting here on this park bench with the…

Woman.

Really, Yoonji didn’t even know her name. She knew her face, of course. Seen it enough times. Had never once thought to ask her name, mostly since Yoonji only saw her from a distance, said woman now often leaving Jungkook’s side whenever their friend group made time to meet up. Everyone teased him, your girlfriend? And this young, tall, tattooed punk would grin and not say anything. Jungkook was incapable of lying.

Just “keke,” and that was that.

Yoonji didn’t like it.

She was the only girl in her friend group. Probably equated to some internalized discourse if she bothered to go to therapy about it. But, during the time that she had been able to talk to a professional, she had kept the conversation about other people gender-neutral and without names. At the time, her relationships with others were all affected by her disconnected and toxic relationship with herself. She had to fix that first before moving forward. Back then, she had been suffering from the common syndrome of being depressed, stressed, and well-dressed.

Yeah.

Those rough years were not that funny, but at least Yoonji could joke about it now.

Anyway, about this woman.

This woman had actually showed up before her, sitting gracefully at the agreed-upon public park bench that Yoonji would soon encounter some stranger for an industrial-looking black chandelier that may or may not be real. The replies had been in broken Korean. Probably a foreigner using a translator. There was probably nothing to worry about, but the messages had been… weird. Asking about what Yoonji was doing after and such. No, she didn’t like it, and so she had asked Jungkook to accompany her. Dude looked like a tiger, his stripes being his multiple tattoos and facial piercings, but he had the soul of an adorable and vigorous bunny. Wouldn’t hurt anyone. Looked the part just in case anyone got the wrong idea. Boxed as well, for fun. But, instead of Jungkook, Yoonji was sent this woman who came with her snack of sweet tofu, silently and unashamedly eating it with a foldable spoon at the opposite end of the park bench.

Jungkook’s woman?

Who cares.

Was this worse or better than that punk? They dressed similarly, to be honest. The spoken-of woman was wearing all black. A baseball cap with an upside-down smiley face, leather jacket with matte-black metal spikes, charcoal baggy jeans, and a tight crop top with some kind of insane, probably satanic pattern on it. Yoonji snuck a peek. Circles and runes and horned devil heads, glossy print on fabric. Yup, downright hellish.

She abruptly realized she was staring at another woman’s tits and looked away immediately.

Clothed, but still.

This woman also sat like an insane person. Legs wide open compared to Yoonji’s crossed ones. Relaxed stance with a completely straight back. Refined and uncouth at the same time. It made no sense. Her hair curled around her shoulders and chin, loose and messy and intensely sexy.

She adjusted her cap and Yoonji darted her eyes around the park.

Looking for the seller.

Obviously.

Yoonji came dressed as she normally did. Comfortably, in a loose beige hoodie and similarly baggy slate blue jeans with rips in the knees. She wasn’t going to dress up for some musty dude and his lighting fixture, and definitely not for Jeon Jungkook. And not for Jungkook’s, uh…

Girlfriend?

Meh.

There was a strange shiver fluttering in her ribcage. Unease of being underdressed somehow, even though they were simply meeting up for this very specific task. They had not agreed to go anywhere after. Perhaps she would help carry the chandelier. Presumably it was broken down and in its box. Allegedly. Still, the box could be heavy. Yoonji checked her phone. Not time yet. Five more minutes. She had the brief thought that it could be possible for the seller to be late due to transporting a larger package. Awesome. Couldn’t wait for this continued awkward silence with her soft tofu devourer.

She sensed movement by her side.

The woman capped the now empty glass cup with a black plastic lid, foldable spoon inside it, and slipped the whole thing into her small backpack. She shoved it back to her side. Yoonji noticed there was photocard holder attached to it. She couldn’t see the artist since it had flipped around. The other side was black with some grey text on it. There was also a black strap with a grey flame hanging off the photocard holder. Huh. Seemed like she liked idols. At the very least music in general. Yoonji wanted to ask, but that seemed weird to bring up now.

“Jungkook tell you how he busted his knee?”

She almost jumped at the throaty, silken voice. Stopped herself. The other woman cleared her throat, her brows furrowing. It must have been due to the ginger syrup. Even with the slight distance, Yoonji had been able to smell the intense strength of the spice.

“Uh… no, he didn’t.”

The cap bobbed. “Hm. Good.”

Good?

Yoonji frowned. “What do you mean, good?”

Light shrug. “I can help you carry the box back to your place. I gotta head that way to go to the fitness store.”

The fucking one-eighty in topic didn’t throw Yoonji off in the slightest. She said enough by saying nothing. Yoonji watched the way those shaded eyes remained forward, not lifting her shoulders from the bench. Then those dark orbs shifted and suddenly Yoonji was stuck in a penetrating gaze with faint smile, feeling as if she knew something but didn’t really know it.

Those full lips were beautifully shaped.

Anyone would think that.

She bit her lip. Say something. “Why do you need to go to the fitness store?” Yoonji asked, chewing the dead skin off. It was a bad habit. Didn’t usually happen unless she was stressed.

The woman raised her hand. Graceful fingers. Neatly manicured nails. Dark purple with a cobalt blue shimmer. Could be a pianist’s hands, if it wasn’t for the almond-shape of those nails. Yoonji felt her own fingers tuck into the sleeves of her hoodie. She didn’t usually paint them. Kept her nails short due to her job, repairing and selling guitars. Of course, she was no poser and played them too. Sometimes, though, she thought about trying those fancy manicures girls had.

Then she remembered that wasn’t like her at all.

“I have carpal tunnel, so I have wrist compression braces. They’re getting kinda ratty. I wanted to buy some new ones.” She laughed, in a naughtily cheerful, almost bratty way. It was stupid attractive. “The people in the shop probably think I’m lifting weights but, nope. Just feeding my gaming addiction.”

Her eyes flickered up and down, checking out the other woman’s frame. Yoonji couldn’t tell the size of her arms but a vague assessment could be made from those thin pretty wrists and previous knowledge when viewing from afar. “You don’t look like you lift weights.”

“Hey, I’ve got some muscle.”

And much to Yoonji’s surprise, the woman brushed off the right shoulder of her leather jacket and flexed her arm, showing off the small hard lump of a bicep with a laugh. Not much there at all yet undoubtedly defined. She even smacked it with her left hand for sarcastic emphasis, and then pulled her jacket back on smoothly with a smirk.

“Only got that from jackin’ dick though.”

It was pretty funny, but Yoonji wasn’t laughing.

She was slack-jawed at the ease of vulgarity and the shameless confidence oozing out of every pore, suddenly realizing the reason why Jungkook was with this woman. Her rapid heartbeat choked her throat as her brain mentally replayed the swift, seamless movement of black leather falling off that slim shoulder. That accompanying playful smirk. The devious mirth in those scorched eyes.

That aggressive smack that did… something.

At that second, there was a cheery jingle that sounded from the woman’s jeans.

“That’s the time you said the seller is supposed to be here,” she said, fishing out her phone and turning off the alarm. “Where is he?”

Grateful for having an excuse to look away, Yoonji aimlessly swiped at her phone screen to keep her hands busy. “Let me check my messages.” Not getting flustered about it. Definitely not.

She had to face reality.

She’s straight.

At any rate, this woman and Jungkook were undeniably fucking. There was no question about that. Too many times it felt like Jungkook was arriving at the gatherings with a big grin and better mood after being seen with her. That was the face of a man getting laid, for sure. Whatever. Yoonji didn’t care about her friends’ dating or sex lives. It wasn’t her business. Most of the time the girls weren’t even her type.

Most of the time.

Not that she had a type. Or anything.

In this current season of life, she had already come to terms with her sexual orientation. Yoonji had known all her life that she was who she was. There had been no internal struggles about if it was true or not. It was. Still, there was no reason to directly say anything to anyone about it. After all, so far she had only dated and had sex with men. Most of her friends were men too. Status quo could remain since there was no good reason to challenge it. She also wasn’t the type to act on impulse. Not with the delicate line that was this. Yoonji had mentioned it to Hoseok at some point. Being the smart man he was, Hoseok had advised that her sexuality was something she didn’t have to broadcast if she didn’t want to. But, if she needed to do that to feel like herself, then he assured her that their friend group would be accepting of whatever choice she made.

And if not, he would kick them out.

She had felt very appreciative about that. However, the topic of her sexuality never came up in conversation with her friends, so Yoonji had never voiced or alluded to anything about it to the other guys. It wasn’t necessary, so she remained in her comfortable little bubble. She had not yet felt compelled to search for a community or meet specific people. It seemed troublesome. She was content with her current friends and her daily life kept her busy. Besides, there was no one to risk it for.

Certainly not for Jungkook’s…

Um.

Friend-with-benefits.

“What did he say?’

Yoonji jumped as the woman scooted closer, indicating her screen with the open Karrot app. She looked down, the realization setting in.

“The… The profile is deleted?”

The sudden annoyance and rage overpowered any uncomfortable feelings. Listing disappeared. Profile deleted. Even the in-app messages erased because the seller didn’t exist. The fuck? Ugh, that deal was too good to be true. It didn’t even exist. Must have been a cowardly creep that was watching them right now and lost his nerve since Jungkook’s friend was here perched like a bird of prey. Yoonji felt a growl boil in her chest. All this for nothing.

“Aw, man, it was fake? That sucks.”

Holy fuck, she smells good.

Like warm coffee with a sensual depth.

Wait, what?

“Hm, well, I won’t bother you any more then. I’ll go some other time to the fitness store. These things happen,” the woman sighed in disappointment, standing up and stretching, her small backpack and photocard holder swaying. Some guy in a leather jacket. At the moment, Yoonji was too furious to note who the idol was. “Get yourself something nice to eat, Min Yoonji. You’re already out.”

She frowned.

“Hey, I never caught your name.”

Those predator eyes flickered back. “Oh? I figured Jungook would tell you.”

Why is she playing games? “It never came up,” she snapped back.

That fucking smile.

Yoonji hadn’t known it then, but she had already fallen down the rabbit hole at this point.

“Ah, don’t get mad at me. I just thought it was kinda funny Jungkook would keep it from you. Wonder why.” Light shrug with her thumbs slipping into her pockets. “I should teach him to have better manners. My name is…”

“Come hang out with us, noona. It’s okay.”

“No, no, I don’t want to intrude. I would only be in the way.”

“But I’ll miss you.”

A small, coy smile. An elegant hand reached up and tucked a bit of black hair back under the beanie. The smile grew wider as those manicured fingers lingered by an ear adorned with five lobe earrings. A chain connected the first and last in the line. Flashy for someone who didn’t have a flashy personality – at least, not to strangers.

Min Yoonji watched Jeon Jungkook wiggle childishly, tugging on the sleeve of a black denim jacket covered with gothic patches. Skulls and cats and devils. Shit like that. When the woman stood next to Jungkook, they visually suited each other well. The younger man wore a grey beanie, a loose black silk shirt patterned with flourishing white text tucked into baggy, ripped jeans, and a simple black belt. Chunky black boots that matched the chain-covered heeled ones his companion was wearing. Underneath the patch-covered denim jacket, she wore a tight-fitted, dark grey jersey minidress that showed off her attractive and clearly feminine figure.

She knew she shouldn’t, and yet Yoonji still lingered by the other side of the bus stop LED advertisement, eavesdropping on the conversation between Jungkook and his mystery-title friend.

The stop was located right outside the brightly-lit bowling alley that she was supposed to be meeting her friend group at. Uncharacteristically, Yoonji had ended up late due to a train delay. She had skipped the bus ride and had run to her destination. There had also been reports of a minor road accident and Yoonji wasn’t going to wait any more. Besides, she had worn sneakers, jeans, and a white hoodie, along with a black ball cap with some distressed detailing. Nothing fancy.

Or ladylike.

She was meeting a bunch of dudebros anyway.

“You know, most guys would be happy to ditch an annoying girl to hang out with their friends,” the woman was saying, chuckling as Jungkook swung her arm in an arc.

“But you’re not annoying,” he was saying, spinning her around as if they were dancing. “Ah, I don’t even wanna go bowling anymore…”

The woman poked Jungkook on the side of the head, still letting him tug her around. How bothersome was that? But she acted as if he was being totally normal and not causing a bunch of passerby stares. “Don’t be like that. Besides, you have an addiction.”

And then, much to Yoonji’s surprise, Jungkook dropped the woman’s hand and reached out to hug her.

Except his hands were on the woman’s ass.

Yoonji frowned.

Idiot.

“Mhm, I do…”

“Get off me,” the woman laughed, her hands cradling his head. Yoonji got the impression that she didn’t mean it in a cruel way, especially since she was feathering kisses over Jungkook’s cheeks. Or it sounded like that. Her current angle wasn’t great. “If your friends see, they’re gonna tease you.”

“Who cares? They’re just jealous.”

No, I’m not.

She hadn’t said it out loud and yet Yoonji tensed, feeling heat rush over her cheeks.

Never mind.

“Aww, okay, okay, I’ll go now. I can come over tomorrow night, right?”

A wonderful, exasperated laugh. “Don’t you have work? You need to sleep.”

“Sleep is for the weak,” Jungkook huffed, detaching himself and backing up. “I’m gonna come over.”

“And I’m not gonna stop you. See you, silly boy.”

She yanked her body back behind the advertisement as Jungkook grinned and ran off into the bowling alley. He wasn’t the type to walk like a normal human being. But who cared about that? What did Yoonji just witness? Of course, she had seen her friends in relationships before. The handsome and elusive Kim Taehyung had maybe one or two serious relationships. The ever-so-flirty Park Jimin was notorious for dating around. Educated literary fiend Kim Namjoon had a girlfriend for a long while. It had ended badly. Her best friend Jung Hoseok had friends of all genders and various stages of depth in those relationships. Hoseok himself was protective of his heart but not opposed to giving love. As far was Yoonji knew, goofy and well-off Kim Seokjin hadn’t dated yet, however, she wouldn’t be surprised. That worldwide handsome face constantly attracted people.

And Jeon Jungkook?

He had the bad boy look, but never got close to anyone. He flirted, relentlessly, but always backed out when it got serious. All that looked pretty damn serious to Yoonji, though. That was good. Right?

Except.

It was early evening, but Yoonji felt strangely cold.

Shouldn’t I be happy for him? What’s wrong with me?

“Eh?!”

The gasp cut through her thoughts and she jumped back, startled, snapping her head up to…

Oh.

“Min Yoonji?”

Oh, shit.

Her lips were moving. Nothing was coming out. That was very unlike herself, what is wrong with me, her cheeks blaringly warm, and Yoonji finally got her name out, bluntly, instinctively tipping her head in respectful greeting while also feeling the dire need to hide her face.

“Oh, shit, my bad. I freaked you out, huh? Sorry. I didn’t expect to see you on the other side of the bus stop. Did you only just get here? Jungkook already went inside,” the woman was saying, and Yoonji found she couldn’t look her in the face for some reason.

I know. I mean, what?

“Sorry, again. Uh. You’re standing in front of the schedule. Huh. Looks like there’s a delay.”

What the fuck is wrong with me?

“My bad,” Yoonji quickly mumbled, sliding to the side. “You came here with Jungkook again, huh?”

A pause.

Why did I say it like that? Yoonji winced, resisting the urge to slap some common sense into herself. She lifted her head, realizing the way her tone must have sounded, searching for the woman’s expression under the brim of the cap. Something flitted over those features. As soon as it was faintly visible, the unknown emotion was gone, replaced by a faint smile. Wisps of wild hair casted shadows over those cheekbones due to the oncoming sunset. People were rushing past. Conversations, purposes, desires, but suddenly all Yoonji could see was the endless darkness of those scorched eyes framed by smoked lashes.

“Do you like Jungkook romantically, by chance?”

What!

“No!”

The word shot out of her mouth with such force that Yoonji backed up, shocked at her own reaction. The other woman looked taken aback, tilting her head, and there was no way to save this situation, stuck, frozen in this mortifying moment, completely forgetting her previous engagement.

Those plush pink lips looked like they had been kissed all night.

By Jungkook?

A sting dug deep into Yoonji’s heart.

“Oh, I thought…” An awkward laugh, and the woman readjusted the black strap of her bag over her chest. “I got the impression you didn’t like me because I’ve been stopping by with Jungkook lately. My bad. Didn’t mean to ask so bluntly like that. It was on my mind, though. I should get going. Have a good evening, then.”

A gentle wave.

A turn.

And before she knew what she was doing, Yoonji reached out and grabbed that denim sleeve.

“Wait.”

Those scorched eyes full of shadows returned and she found herself breathless at the sight of them.

She had to force herself to speak.

“You should come bowling with us. I’m always the only girl. It would be nice if…”

The goosebumps danced all over her skin. It was like asking someone out of a first date, except this person actually made her nervous and there was going to be a bunch of other people there, including the one was she probably actually dating.

“Would be nice if you hung out with us too, sometimes.”

Yoonji knew she should have added, Jungkook would be happy to see you. She didn’t for some reason. No, she knew the reason, but she bit back those thoughts and let go of that sleeve, not wanting to be too pushy about it. Chewed on her lip, peeling away at dry skin. The other woman seemed to contemplate for a second and shrugged, chuckling.

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll go with you.”

It was at this moment that Yoonji knew.

She fucked up.

Too late now.

It wasn’t that bad.

There was some confusion, yes. Introductions, casual banter. Yoonji noticed that Jungkook seemed both surprised and a little hurt. What for? But then the woman went to stand next to him and whispered in his ear. He seemed much more satisfied after that. Yoonji busied herself with paying and picking out the right size for her bowling shoes. It was dark in here. Minors were no longer allowed since the bar was opening. The alleys were lit up with scattered color. Mood lighting. Jungkook loved that shit.

Yoonji noticed that they didn’t hold hands.

Interesting.

The women paid and was handed the beige and black bowling shoes. Their group was smaller today, just Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook, and Seokjin. Honestly, Yoonji would have dropped out if Seokjin wasn’t coming with. The other three were younger and they were noisy. Kim Seokjin was loud as fuck too, but he was reasonable and matched Yoonji’s energy when she was feeling drained of the other three. The woman was chatting with Seokjin. They seemed to know each other to some extent. Why does everyone seem to know you but me? That wasn’t a fair assessment. Taehyung and Jimin were jostling Jungkook around, teasing him probably. They didn’t seem as familiar with her.

Hm.

The next notable moment was when they were sitting down and changing shoes. Yoonji glanced over, seeing her unzip her boots. Normal. Shifting line of vision. The hem of that tight dress was hiking up those soft thighs. Well, she hadn’t dressed to go bowling, after all.

Yoonji paused, wondering if she should say something.

Then, all of a sudden, Jungkook’s jean-covered butt was blocking her vision.

Hey!

Clicked her tongue, busying herself with the shoes. He didn’t have to do that. Nothing was happening here. The music was so loud that Yoonji found she couldn’t hear their conversation. Annoying. Until…

“Oh! You have Gengar socks!”

“They’re cute! Is Gengar wearing a pumpkin? Haha, it’s not Halloween though!” Taehyung was laughing.

“Aw, who cares.? You can’t see them anyway,” Jungkook’s lady was chuckling, yanking on the bowling shoes. “It’s Halloween every day in my heart.”

“I didn’t know you liked cute stuff, noona,” Jimin teased. “You seem so tough, but you’re a big softie, huh? Of course, you must be if you like our Jungkookie!”

“Bleh, shush,” came the exasperated sigh and hand wave. “The real tough one is Seokjinnie over here for putting up with you guys.”

Yoonji frowned. The two of them must be somewhat familiar for her to address Seokjin with such familiarity. It came up in conversation later, after a few strikes and pleas with a higher power to give Jimin better aim (no higher power answered but Taehyung did accidentally bowl for Jimin, uh huh). Apparently, Seokjin and Jungkook’s friend had met online through an online team-based game. Yoonji didn’t play video games because she wasn’t good at them. At least, compared to her friends. She was fine with watching though.

“You’re doing great today. You must have eaten something good.”

Yoonji gave Seokjin the side-eye. “Or maybe you’ve gotten worse. Online video games aren’t the same as a physical sport.”

“Hey! It’s all hand-eye coordination. Same, same!”

“At this rate, even Jimin will overtake you.”

Seokjin’s handsome face twisted in indignation. He had the kind of facial features that were model-envy if he wasn’t contorting them to some ridiculous expression. Like right now. “He cheated and made Taehyung bowl for him!”

“I did not!”

“Oh, really?”

She ignored their squabbling, only to freeze up once she realized who was sitting next to her.

“I’m pretty sure I’m doing the worst right now,” came the wry chuckle. “Thankfully, Jungkook shielded my pride and typed in Gengar instead of my name.”

“You’re doing okay,” Yoonji said quietly, glimpsing to her left. She caught the scent of something warm and tangy. Perfume.

O… Oh.

“That’s very nice of you to say, but I’m fifty points behind Jimin.” A sigh. “I think it’s my manicure. I should cut my nails a bit. They’ll grow back.”

Then, much to Yoonji’s surprise, the woman leaned over and unzipped her bag, moving things around.

“W-Wait, really?” Turned and she really was pulling out a small silver nail clipper and a cerulean blue glass nail file. “It’s just a bowling game. It’s not that serious.”

The other woman craned her head and lined up her the nail of her middle finger with the clipper. “Yeah, but I’m not really trying,” she was saying. Snip! “I don’t really like that. if I’m gonna lose, I should at least lose trying my best.”

Yoonji watched in stunned fascination as the woman trimmed down her black cherry manicure on three nails on what seemed to be her dominant hand. Middle finger, ring finger, and thumb. Only those. She left the index and pinky in their pointed almond shape. She held up her hand after, graceful fingers spread out.

O-Oh.

“I… I’m going to the bathroom for a sec.”

“Oh, okay, I’ll–”

But Yoonji didn’t stop to listen, walking away quickly, quickly, into the women’s bathroom and closing the stall door, doing nothing but immediately pinning her back to the door and exhaling hard. Ragged. Rough. What is wrong with me? She knew what was wrong. Yoonji placed her palms over her mouth and forced out another breath. There was flushing and water splashing and currently popular pop music drowning out the more unpleasant noises, but Yoonji was too busy trying to calm down the screaming in her head. This was bad. This was really bad. She had watched enough girl-on-girl porn to know… No. Obviously, Jungkook’s friend was going to clip the nails of her middle and ring finger. Those were the ones to hold the bowling ball. There was nothing more to it.

Just a coincidence.

Don’t be delusional.

This would be much easier if it was a man. Yoonji knew how to be cool and calm when it came to guys. Besides, the male mindset was too airheaded to pick up on subtlety anyway. But, what if a woman could…? She had already caught on to Yoonji acting weird earlier. Even thought she had romantic feelings with Jungkook. Pfft. Absurd. That kid was grown up now, but he was still only a bright-eyed eager bunny. No amount of tattoos or piercings would ever turn Jeon Jungkook from prey to predator, although he could look the part with enough working out. Jungkook was certainly her type when it came to looks but as far as personality, Yoonji was sure she would be worn out by Jungkook.

Wait.

Yoonji froze.

What?

She pushed her hair back. Another tick that happened due to her nervousness. Ha. Haha. I did not just think that about Jeon Jungkook. No. No, no, she was simply confused. That was all. Confused and working though who-the-fuck-knows-what. No. This had to stop. You have to compartmentalize this shit. This couldn’t keep happening. Stop acting weird. Pull yourself together. When it came down to it, Yoonji had to step out of this stall and chill the fuck out.

She couldn’t let it show.

Nobody is stopping you from getting off to her later.

Yoonji told her brain to shut up and left the stall.

Once their bowling game was over, the adults moved on to bigger and better things.

“You want the Gengar, right?”

“I don’t want anything. I don’t trust these things. Don’t waste your money.”

“Don’t be like that, noona. She totally wants the Gengar,” Taehyung talked over her, shoving in tokens so Jungkook could attempt the claw machine. Jimin stood at the far corner of the machine and pointed animatedly, calling to move a little more left, no, right, no, back more. Seokjin snorted at him to shut up. Yoonji watched as Jungkook failed, his broad shoulders dropping heavily as the round bright purple plush slid out of the metal claw and plopped back into the mound of colorful plushies, face-first onto its teasing red eyes and big grin.

“One more time,” Jungkook insisted.

“You don’t–”

She watched the younger man turn to the woman and pull a big pout. There was an exchanged glance between them. A muscle in Yoonji’s face twitched. This had been Jungkook’s third time trying to get something from the claw machine. Their group was crammed in a corner of the arcade in the bowling alley, a couple drinks in, squabbling for a damn Gengar plush for their newcomer. It wasn’t the situation that was bothering Yoonji, but rather how adamant Jungkook was that it had to be him winning it.

This guy is so freaking annoying.

Yoonji reached between their bodies and jammed her own tokens in.

“Go ahead, then.”

She shoved Jungkook’s shoulder and broke the shared gaze between him and his lady friend. Jungkook snapped his head to the machine, startled as the lights flashed and the red timer came on, letting out a surprised yelp as he fought to move the clunky claw back to the faceplanted Gengar.

He had never tried so hard before for his other friends.

Hmph.

“Oh, shit! YAH!”

“LET’S GOOOOOOO!”

“Taehyung, stop yelling!”

“Well, shit. You did it.”

“I told you I would,” Jungkook roared triumphantly, yanking out the purple Pokémon plush and holding it up like a prestigious award. “Da-dang!”

“Fourth time’s a charm?” she laughed as Jungkook grabbed her hands and spun them palm up to delicately rest the incredibly round Gengar plush on them. Yoonji noticed he didn’t linger and pulled away quickly. “Thank you, then, haha.”

Seokjin, Jimin, and Taehyung were acting like Jungkook had just won a damn rice cooker on a prestigious game show, crowding around him and giving him high fives. Yoonji shook her head, glad it was over, and felt a hand on her shoulder. Froze as she looked up to scorched eyes twinkling brightly in neon lights of the arcade machines.

“Here. Sorry you had to use your tokens for me.”

Yoonji tried to push back to the coins suddenly placed in her palm. “No, it’s fine, I don’t–”

“I wouldn’t want to owe you.”

“I–”

Then she froze, realizing her hands were clasped around the other woman’s right. Holding the Gengar plush in her left, tucked underneath her breasts. The naughtily cheerful grin was aimed straight at Yoonji, silently laughing as if it had seen and knew everything. Before she could react, a handful of coins was dumped in her palm and her fingers were closed around it, pinned by a dark cherry manicure. Middle, ring, and thumb trimmed short.

Her heartbeat shot up to her throat.

“Yoonji-noona, come play this one with me!”

Her head snapped up. The other woman smiled at her calmly. Park Jimin grabbed Yoonji’s sleeve and dragged her to a racing game. That didn’t mean anything. It didn’t. I wouldn’t want to owe you. Why not? What was wrong with her? What was so much better about dork-ass Jeon Jungkook who was sucked into playing Tekken versus Kim Taehyung without a second thought? The other woman turned away and went to stand behind Jungkook, next to their consistent heckler Kim Seokjin, still holding onto the Gengar plush. Yoonji turned to sit down next to Jimin, suddenly mad she didn’t think of the claw machine first, why, she could have done it in less tries, she was sure of it.

“You alright?”

“What?” she snapped.

Jimin raised his eyebrows at her. Yoonji stilled. Somehow, Jimin always knew something was up. Oh, he did care if his friends were having a hard time. He also low-key lived for drama. High-key, even. He was a sneaky bitch behind an innocent face. Instead of answering, Yoonji jammed tokens into the machine, both for Jimin and herself, and cocked her eyebrow back at his suspicious, searching expression, placing her hands on the steering wheel.

“I’m gonna smoke ya,” she declared.

“I haven’t yet – HEY!”

Yoonji absolutely demolished him in the virtual race. Twice. Get rekt, Jimin-ah.

Sulky.

Well, no. Not really.

A little bit.

Ugh, fine.

Min Yoonji silently admitted she was sulky.

Just trying to figure out what was so great about Jeon Jungkook. She flicked through his Instagram, not impressed. It was a pretty dead account, as Jungkook had been very into keeping an aesthetic layout for a few months and then promptly abandoned the account when he got tired of it. He had commitment issues. The aesthetic he had chosen was the digital photo, found film vibe that had been popular when the kid was literally in elementary school and probably had no idea what social media even was. His TikTok was somewhat similar, with lots of effects and editing in the short videos. Also mostly abandoned, although Yoonji suspected his accounts were more for lurking and liking stuff than displaying himself.

Jungkook had a few candid, artsy photos of him shirtless that Yoonji wished she hadn’t seen.

Hah, why post that if you can’t even provide a decent picture?

She found that she was lingering on a side profile photo of him for a few seconds. Black and white. Ghost of a smile on his lips and his short black hair messily over his crinkled eyes. From this angle, one could see the definition of his jaw and the mole on his neck, plus the three piercings on his left ear. His shoulder was bare, a medium-weight linked chain loosely hanging on his neck.

Abruptly, Yoonji swiped away.

He doesn’t have a single photo of her on here.

There were occasional photos that included Jimin and Taehyung, (including one of Jimin’s hand photobombing a seriously poised Taehyung, Yoonji could recognize that tiny pinky anywhere), but not really anyone else. This didn’t surprise Yoonji too much, as over half of the photos were scenery shots, but surely a photo of a pretty woman would get likes? She frowned, then froze. There was a reel posted way down there, towards the beginning of the account’s creation. At first, it hadn’t caught her attention since the photo was a black screen, but then she clicked on it and listened to the audio. It was someone playing guitar.

But not just anyone.

After about ten seconds of black screen, the camera lifted from its spot and it showed Min Yoonji several years ago, leaning over a black acoustic guitar, playing a melody she had made up on the spot. She remembered that night. She had been at Kim Namjoon’s house, they had gotten drunk, and Jeon Jungkook had shown up at three in the morning for who-the-hell-knows-what reason. She had brought her guitar that night on a low-key depressed whim. Namjoon dabbled in music too, sometimes, not just produced it, so Yoonji occasionally brought her guitar to play for fun. They were longtime friends.

She hadn’t noticed that Jungkook had filmed her.

The caption read, music that makes you fall in love.

“… What?”

It had startled her so much that she hadn’t even realized she spoke out loud.

Ah, what was she thinking? This was years ago. Past was in the past. There wasn’t anything else interesting on here. Funnily enough, the specific melody Jungkook had complimented, Yoonji had turned into a breakup song. Sure, she had never really published her music past her SoundCloud, but she still made songs for fun even though she wasn’t trying to become an idol or anything of the sort. Would be cool to be a producer though.

It was only a damn reel.

There was no serendipitous shit going on here.

Yoonji rubbed her eyes. They were close, yes. Jungkook often came to her for practical life advice when Namjoon was a bit too philosophical. His words, although Yoonji could agree. She was known as the pragmatic one in the group. Something she learned in therapy, actually. Focusing on what could be done right now instead of fixating on the what-ifs of the future. The youngest did exasperate her sometimes, however it was an endearing kind of exasperation that she welcomed. He, unlike some other young people, expressed his gratitude often.

He called her cute often, too.

Not that… Not that other people didn’t. Hoseok did all the time. Well, Yoonji did go to Hoseok a lot for outfit opinions when she had an occasion. Jungkook also expressed skinship, usually resting his head on Yoonji’s shoulder or putting a hand on her back, even though he didn’t usually imitate with other people. Physical touch was not something Yoonji liked. She tolerated it if it was Jungkook, but he really hadn’t been touchy since…

Wait.

Why the fuck was she thinking about Jungkook?

This ain’t about you!

Right. So, anyway, since Jungkook had started seeing this woman, he hadn’t posted her on his social media, hadn’t initiated physical touch with Yoonji, and expressed neediness when the two were alone but treated the lady like a friend when in front of his friends. He didn’t even invite her to their gatherings despite having many opportunities, yet also specifically made them all wait for him to win her a plush prize that directly related with her interests.

Which all equated to Jeon Jungkook sending the most confusing batch of mixed signals Yoonji had ever analyzed.

A muscle in her face twitched.

Yoonji chewed on her lip. She wondered if she should scroll through those Jungkook was following to maybe find the woman’s account. Was that going too far? Sure, social media profiles were generally public, but actively looking for someone for dubious reasons seemed wrong. Not that her reasons were dubious.

Right.

She looked back to her phone screen.

It was somehow displaying a photo of Jungkook’s naked back. Again, black and white. Standing in a gym. The background was slightly blurred, but the hint of Jungkook’s toned front was unmistakable. Yoonji frowned and swiped it away, scrolling distractedly. She didn’t think about him like that. He was a dork. The woman he was dating was smoking hot. Were they dating, though? That was the whole point of this investigation. For fuck’s sake. Although Jungkook gave the impression he was a playboy, Yoonji knew he wasn’t. He didn’t have the damn attention span to be a player and he was obviously scared of hurting other people’s feelings. Still, there weren’t any telltale signs of them dating-dating. Which shouldn’t bother Yoonji anyway, because she didn’t get involved in her friend’s dating lives, so why the fuck did she care?

Plus, she’s probably straight.

Jungkook was a pretty manly man.

But what if she’s not?

There was literally nothing Yoonji could work off of in that regard except for the look in those dark scorched eyes when she closed her hand around Yoonji’s hand, holding her tight and within direct eye contact. There was literally not a single reason for her to believe that look meant anything other than what was said.

And yet.

I’m being delusional.

Jungkook and her looked good together. Yeah. They were probably gonna work out. Uh huh. It was just rough for her because this was one of the first few real moments that Yoonji felt strongly attracted to someone outside of purely sexual reasons.

Woah.

Woah, hold on there.

She knew for a fact she liked women sexually. Her porn history was enough evidence of that. She had been attracted to women she had met over the years, sure, but never had Yoonji pursued a woman, both because of the social stigma and also because she figured only doing it for the sexual desire seemed wrong. If anyone found out, Yoonji didn’t want to feel like it was for nothing.

So why am I stalking Jungkook on Instagram just for a glimpse of her?

And Yoonji couldn’t like her. She barely knew her. Right? They couldn’t have developed any emotional connection in their very minimal interactions. Yoonji placed her phone down, backing away from it like it was a bomb. These impulses… She couldn’t stop thinking about the woman holding the Gengar next to her chest. Couldn’t stop thinking about Jungkook dancing her around on the sidewalk. Couldn’t stop thinking about the woman casually eating her dessert in the park as if she owned the whole damn world.

Did Yoonji want to be her?

Or did she want to be with her?

Yoonji hadn’t allowed herself to fantasize yet because fantasizing about a real person felt much more abhorrent than a total stranger. It was a door she couldn’t bear to open yet. And, worse.

She didn’t know if she could stop if she started.

ep 2. what a shame. (see you friday) sugar, spice, and everything nice

min yoonji masterpost | masterpost

#min yoonji x reader #yoonji x reader #bts smut #min yoonji #jungkook x reader #yoonji smut #jeon jungkook x reader #gender bend yoongi

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monkeybebop · 6 months

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I love Lacho, wish gay people were real sigh…

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pluttobones · 1 year

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*sigh* I wish gay people were real

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf oc #fnaf 1 #dsaf art #dsaf old sport #dsaf fanart #dsaf 3 #dsaf jack #dsaf steven #dsaf dave #davesport #dave miller #jack kennedy

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steddieonmywaywardson · 4 months

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The Ghost (1990 movie) au nobody asked for!

“Argh! What the fuck? You’re here?” She shrieks. Before Steve can answer, she shakes her head as she begins to pace back and forth in front of the couch. “No. No. You’re not. You’re not here at all,” she babbles. “This was bound to happen. Overactive imagination. That’s what they all say. I’ve been watching too many movies. Concentrating too much on my script. It’s starting to bleed into real life and you’re just a figment of my imagination because I’m tired. Yup. That’s it,”

“I need your help Robin. I-“

“My help?” She laughs mirthlessly. “Oh no. No, no, no,” she’s shaking her head again. “I’m no help to anyone. I need to cut my hours at the video store…and I need to give the writing a break. Maybe go back home to Indiana. That sounds good right now…”

“I’m not a figment of your imagination,” Steve replies gently. He’s been so caught up in the fact that he’s finally found someone who can hear him, he’s forgotten how terrifying it must be for Robin. “I really wish it didn’t have to be this way, trust me, but you’re the first person since I died that’s been able to hear me,”

“Since you died?” Robin blinks. She’s still shaking her head in disbelief. “I can talk to dead people. Like some weird superpower or something…I couldn’t write this shit if I tried…” she slumps down on the couch and puts her head in her hands.

“You’re a writer?” Steve asks.

“Trying to be,” Robin replies, looking up. “Between taking shifts at a video store and an ice cream place to make ends meet,” she sighs. “And now I’m talking to you, as if I wasn’t having a mental breakdown right now. Who are you anyway?”

“My name’s Steve Harrington-“

“Uh huh. Do I know you or something? I don’t remember any Steve Harringtons…” she thinks for a moment. “Wait, were you the guy in my media class? The one who was always leaving his muffin crumbs all over the classroom floor?”

“No. I’m…well, I was a banker. Working near Tribeca-“ Steve answers.

“A banker?” Robin says incredulously. She rolls her eyes. “Why the hell would I make that up? I know nothing about banking!”

It’s obvious they’re getting nowhere but Steve needs to do this. He needs her to hear him so he can save Eddie from Jason.

“I’ll prove to you I’m real! Do you have last week’s newspaper?”

Robin narrows her eyes at him but she dutifully stands up and disappears into the small kitchen. A few moments later, she comes back with a crumpled newspaper, obviously rescued from the garbage. She sits back down and throws the paper onto the coffee table in front of her.

“Turn to page fifteen,” Steve says.

“Can’t believe I’m doing this…” She mutters to herself as she unfolds the newspaper and rifles through it until she reaches the right page.

“Left column, near the bottom,” Steve instructs.

He watches as Robin’s eyes dart across the page and stop when she reaches the article. Her eyes widen.

“Ok so….that doesn’t prove you’re real,” she says after a minute or two. “If anything, it proves my overtired theory. I clearly read about you and now my subconscious is manifesting you,” she explains. “Yeah, I took psychology in college,”

“Please Robin,” Steve says desperately. “I know this is a really shitty situation, OK? I’m dead. I was murdered actually and I’ve been taken away from the love of my life and it just so happens you’re the only person I know of that can hear me. Do I wish it was different? Fuck yeah I do. If I have to…be dead, then why can’t it be my boyfriend who hears me y’know?”

“Your boyfriend?” Robin suddenly looks interested. “You’re gay?”

“Yeah but-“

“Huh.” Robin replies. She opens her mouth as if there’s going to be more, but shakes her head again. “So…why do you need my help?”

#steve harrington #robin buckley #stobin #platonic stobin #stobin brotp #tw death #tw murder #my writing #stranger things

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cicutagreninja · 3 days

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*sighs* i wish Gay People were real

been experimenting with this coloring style, its very different to my usual no coloring at all lol

So expect a lot of it sometime ig

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #glamrock freddy #glamrock bonnie #fronnie #<- implied ig #dayum im so normal #cicuta scribbles

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foxxy-sensei · 5 months

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In the end, there was no hope.

The lands were ravished and most of the people were gone. Not even the animals seemed to be spared.

The goddess wanted her chakra back and she was determined to have it. The remaining few knew there was nothing left to do, but give in. But what are humans, but bodies filled with egos, determination, and desperation.

There were very few of them left.

Many of her friends had died before the goddess was even released. Neji, Tenten, Choji, Gai, Inoichi, Shikaku Tsunade, and Gaara… Friends and family lost to the initial war. It only got worse from there. Slowly, but surely, the rest of her chosen family started to disappear from her life. Stolen from her by a selfish and vindictive woman.

She had just lost Lee a few days ago as he fought off an army of white Zetsu so that the rest of them could escape. He told her he was okay with this death. It would allow them to live and he would be able to see his beloved team again.

Naruto sighed tiredly. She wished she could say she cried, but she had no more tears to give. Only a prayer that what her friend wanted, came true in the end.

But that was a few days ago.

Now, the only ones of her precious people that were left were Kakashi, Sakura, Sasuke, Shikamaru, Hinata, Kurama, Obito, and the reanimated body of her father. And she knew that, soon, she would probably lose them as well.

For now, they had made their great escape. With the help of a makeshift boat and some seals, they had made it to the waters of Wave Country and crossed the perilous, whirlpool filled waters into Uzushiogakure. The only thing that truly kept them safe was Hinata and Naruto’s affinities for water chakra and Naruto’s Uzumaki blood. She had gripped the edge of the ‘boat’ so tight that the wood bit into her palm and caused her to bleed. The waters seemed to calm a bit after getting a taste. It was then that most of them realized that the destruction of Uzushio had to have been either an inside job or something far more sinister.

They stepped off their boat and onto the beaches. And while the others went on ahead to scope out the ruined village for suitable shelter and food, Naruto and her father were left standing in the sand, the Jinchuriki trembling with rage. Minato laid a comforting hand on his daughter’s shoulder.

“No one could be bothered to come here and lay the dead to rest.” Uzushio had been destroyed. The village was left in ruins… The dead were left in the sand. When her precious Konohagakure had been destroyed, Naruto had risked her life to go back and lay who she could to rest in a funeral pyre. But Uzushio was Konoha’s sister village and no one had bothered, in all of the years, to make sure that their fellow shinobi and citizens had seen a proper burial. Just left them to the sands and sun.

Minato hung his head. “I’m sorry, Naruto… Kushina. If I had known the Sandaime hadn’t seen to it himself, I would’ve come here personally to have it done.” He felt like he had failed his wife and daughter… More than he already felt, anyway.

Naruto bent to kneel in the sand and carefully picked up the skull of what seemed to be a fallen Uzushio shinobi. She was quiet for a long while, just wondering about who the poor soul could have been before they died. Finally, she spoke up.

“I will collect the remains of the dead and lay them to rest in a pyre on the far side of the island. Please let the others know that I would like to be left alone until then.” She created a few clones that set out to work. But before the real her could start the task as well, she felt her father’s gentle hand on her cheek, turning her head to make her look at him.

“I will never leave you alone. Not again. We will do this together.” He placed their foreheads together for a brief moment before pulling away and moving to sift through the sand for bones to collect, creating a few clones himself.

They worked quietly throughout the day and well into the evening. The rest of their group were scarcely seen except for when they were handing off scrolls with bodies that they had found themselves. No words were exchanged. Just quick, mournful glances. Shikamaru always seemed to be able to find the real Naruto when he was handing over scrolls. He would always brush his fingertips against the backs of her hands before disappearing into the shadows again.

The two had gotten closer during the war. They had spilled their souls to each other, surprising themselves about their choice in confidante. Shikamaru had a more analytical mind, so he always thought he would end up breaking down to Kakashi, as he was someone who was logical and reminded him of his father some, and would be able to talk him through his troubles. And it was no secret, Naruto’s love for Sasuke. He was her best friend and her brother. It was more likely for her to turn to him with her woes. Or at least Sakura or Hinata.

But that’s not what happened. They chose each other. No matter how unintentional.

They were out hunting for possible food and scouting for white Zetsus when they were suddenly surrounded. Shikamaru had taken a hit and was trying to convince Naruto to just leave without him and she ran with him hanging off her shoulder. He told her that he would hold them off. She was their powerhouse. He knew that she and Kurama were important pieces to survival. He needed them to live. But Naruto thought the opposite. Shikamaru was their tactician. Even if she could not go on, she knew he could help the others through anything. To her, he was one of the most important people. So it enraged her to hear him speak of sacrificing himself.

She created a clone and was quick to hand off the dark haired shinobi, mumbling about a cave system she knew was not too far from their current location. Shikamaru started to argue, getting angry himself, but Naruto would hear none of it.

She turned to give the shadow user a scathing look. “We will discuss this later.” She said with a growl in her voice.

Shikamaru was surprised, but said nothing more. He just nodded his head and surrendered himself to being whisked away. It was only hours later, after his wounds had been cleaned and the clone was able to feed him, did Shikamaru get to see the real blonde again. She looked tired and singed, but unwounded. Her clone handed over what little food and drink was left before dismissing itself. She was able to eat it quickly and in silence before the man who sat across from her finally just snapped.

Words were exchanged between the two that were surely regretted later on, but words were also spoken that they both needed to hear and say. Shikamaru spoke of his regrets, fear, and feelings while Naruto spoke of her own fears, anger, and dwindling self-worth. They both spoke of the hopelessness that they felt.

They found solace in each other that night. And what started out as clumsy hands and desperation, slowly turned into lingering touches and the budding feelings of love. Which is how Naruto ended up curled into a ball with her face shoved into the dark haired shinobi’s chest with his arms wrapped securely around her as she slept after the funeral pyre.

They had found shelter in what used to be a library. It was one of the only buildings that didn’t seem to be in complete ruin. They had set up what few bedrolls they could find around a small fire that they had created in the center of the room, ventilated through a hole in the roof. Naruto and Shikamaru shared a bed roll while Kakashi and Obito also laid side by side. Sasuke looked surprisingly content laying between Sakura and Hinata as they rested their heads on his shoulders. Minato, being a reanimated corpse, had no need for sleep and took post against a shelf as he read through what scrolls were left in the room. They were resting quietly for a bit, but the silence was eventually broken.

“We cannot continue on as we have been. Resources are limited and Kaguya will find us again soon enough. There is nowhere to run on the island. Nowhere to truly hide. And even if we stood our ground and fought, even if we were able to defeat her, who is left in this ravaged land that we have to fight for besides each other?” Obito spoke in a quiet tone as he sat up to stare into the fire. No one seemed to have an answer for him, but everyone seemed to hold each other a little tighter.

After a moment of quiet, the room suddenly started to get hotter and Naruto squirmed a bit in Shikamaru’s hold as Kurama’s chakra spilled its way out of the seal, forming itself into a miniature version of the Kyuubi no Kitsune. He had done this many times in the past after Naruto unlocked his seal so that he could come out and speak to the others freely.

The little fox stretched and brushed his body against Naruto’s back before turning his attention to the older Uchiha.

“Ever since her escape from the moon, my siblings and I have been discussing the matter.” Kurama’s deep voice coming out of the little fox always sounded weird to the Konoha shinobi, but they were used to it by now. “She was powerful. Too powerful. The Sage feared her and made sure we all knew how truly terrible it would be for her to roam this world again. Long ago, before we were all captured and turned into weapons for you humans, we had come up with a plan. One that would work in theory, but would take a significant amount of chakra to pull off and would only be succeeded by one or two of us.” The fox pawed at the locks of Naruto’s golden hair that had grown to about the same length as Hinata’s as time had passed. Once he was sure he had every awakened shinobi’s attention, he settled down against Naruto’s back and huffed in contentment when Shikamaru buried his fingers into soft fur to pet it. “We contemplated the possibility of time travel. Of using space-time ninjutsu to stop the rabbit goddess from coming to be again. Chakra is easy to send away and we believed that it would work, but then there was the possibility that it wouldn’t. That one of us would make it back to the appropriate time and would be overwritten by our younger selves and that the task would have been for naught.” He sighed. “So, then, we contemplated sending a shinobi back. If they went back far enough, they would not be interfering with their own existence and would maybe be able to succeed. But then we were captured and our hatred for your kind increased and we gave up on this plan… Until now.” He lifted his head to look back at his host and her, lesser in his opinion, boyfriend. “We have been talking and we would do it for her. For Naruto.” He turned to look at Minato. “But we could never complete the how of what we were trying to accomplish. But we are here in Uzushio now. Where the world’s greatest Fuinjutsu users originated and made it their business to complete impossible tasks. And we just so happen to have the leading expert in space-time seals and ninjutsu here with us today. I’m sure, with the help of your daughter and any leftover scrolls here in the village, you can create a seal that can accomplish this feat. And I, and my siblings, will power it willingly. Even if there is only a portion of our power left, I’m sure it would be enough to send one and maybe two of you back a significant distance.”

There was a moment of silence before Obito let out an angry huff. “Thank you for that fantasy of a bedtime story, fox. I’m sure to sleep well knowing that tomorrow may as well be my last.”

Kurama growled. “As much of a fantasy as your dead sensei sitting in the same room as us now. As much of a fantasy as you becoming the Juubi Jinchuriki and surviving its extraction. As much as a fantasy as the malevolent goddess who roams the land with her plant minions, hoping to drain your chakra away from you.”

Minato let out a distressed laugh before standing abruptly and heading towards the door. “You all get some sleep. I’ll see what I can come up with.”

Obito glared at the fox. “You’re really having Sensei waste his time with this?”

Kakashi let out a sigh and pulled the blanket up and over the Uchiha’s head. “Just go to sleep, Obito. Besides, Sensei has all the time in the world.” And with that, nothing else was said for the rest of the night.

***

It was a couple of months before anything was actually discovered.

They trained and cleaned up the island, but tensions were high. It felt odd that Kaguya hadn’t come for them yet. Everyone was driving themselves crazy with the thought. Was she toying with them or did she really not know where they were?

Naruto found a few hidden, underground rooms that only opened up to her Uzumaki blood on a seal and was able to find a ton of scrolls and books on Fuinjutsu that she happily showed to her father. She created clones and the both of them studied to their heart’s content. Naruto even found scrolls on the barrier that protects Uzushio. Apparently, it harnesses sage energy to keep the whirlpools going and puts up a type of force field around the island that hides chakra. It was designed so that enemies would never know what type of forces lay in wait on the other side, which may explain their small reprieve. It was also made so that the only people who could get through were the families that made up the island and anyone whose blood was keyed in later.

Which meant there was definitely foul play when it came to the destruction of the island and its people. Naruto wondered if she even wanted to know who the betrayal lay with. Wondered if it would do her mental wellbeing any good. So she threw herself into her Fuinjutsu studies and helped her father search for any clue on what Kurama spoke of being viable.

They caught a lucky break when Naruto found another hidden room in the Uzukage’s tower. It held many secrets and told the history of Uzushio and each family that called the island home.

Naruto looked into the Uzumaki first, of course, and learned that the last Uzukage, Uzumaki Arashi, was forced to marry his distant cousin, the daughter to the daimyo, in a political marriage after his first wife and child died by poisoning. His second marriage is what resulted in the birth of Naruto’s mother, Uzumaki Kushina and her younger brother Uzumaki Ryu.

Minato was surprised. He never knew that Kushina had a brother. He actually wondered if the woman knew herself and if that’s why she never told him. But he and Naruto were even more surprised to learn that the woman who was Arashi’s wife before the political marriage. Was a woman who went by the family name Namikaze.

Namikaze was definitely not a family name for any of the islanders. In fact, Minato knew that his lineage lay in a village not too far from Kumo. Maybe the Uzukage had met a one off member of Minato’s family and gotten married. They put the thought aside with the promise to come back to it later.

They learned more about the Uzumaki clan being related to the Senju and Uchiha clan through the Otsutsuki clan and about how Uzushio and Fuinjutsu were created.

They caught a lucky break when the second family they looked into was the Hoshizora clan. Or more importantly, Hoshizora Sora, the creator of the offshoot Uzumaki clan who specialized in seals meant for transportation. In other words, a specialist in space-time ninjutsu and seals. Coded copies of his journals were found in the hidden room where Minato sat for hours to read through them while his daughter followed along at a slower pace. She was, by no means, stupid, but she was not as quick with learning and reading as her father. She also got tired, unlike the reanimated man. There were many nights where Shikamaru, Hinata, or Sasuke had come looking for them and found Naruto asleep with a book hanging loose in her hand and her head on her father’s lap. The man would slowly untangle his fingers from her golden hair and set the book aside so that her friends or boyfriend could take her to bed. He would give a quiet thank you before continuing his reading.

A few weeks later was the first night in a while that the group had Minato actually join them for dinner. They sat on the beach under the stars with the fire cooking the fresh fish they had managed to catch that day. The entire group glanced up and gave small smiles when they heard the barely there steps in the sand from the former Hokage. He sat down gracefully next to his daughter and bumped shoulders with her as she picked at the fire in front of them with a metal stick. Naruto huffed and leaned into her father’s side. Shikamaru, on her other side, didn’t seem to mind at all.

There were quiet murmurs as everyone talked amongst themselves until Minato finally decided to speak up.

“I’ve figured it out. A seal that can help us traverse through time. Just like Kurama said.” His voice was quiet, but it was heard by all of them. They group stopped their conversations and looked at the blond man over the fire. Even Kurama came out of his seal to settle himself into Naruto’s lap and listen. Minato sighed and ran his fingers through his thick hair. “It’s a seal that has only been used by the Hoshizora clan once and is confirmed to work. The downside is how much chakra it takes to attempt. The amount is so significant, that the one person who used the seal went into a coma and almost died. And even then, they only succeeded in sending someone back to the day before. The seal was then labeled a Kinjutsu and locked away to keep anyone else from attempting it.”

Kurama huffed. “Well I have a significantly more amount of chakra than you worms. And I’m ready to give it all up. My siblings have their portions that they’ve provided to Naruto as well. You will get to where you need to.” He blinked lazy eyes at the blond. “So…what are the rest of the conditions?”

The slight building of excitement in the group at the thought of the out-of-the-box plan possibly working simmered down quickly with Kurama’s question.

“You wouldn’t be here explaining this to us with such little enthusiasm if there wasn’t something else involved. So what is it?” Kurama grumbled.

Minato was quiet for a long moment as he stared into the fire. He knew his daughter had high morals. He knew what he was about to say might hurt her a bit. He felt like crap for even having to bring up the suggestion. The only thing that pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts was a hand reaching over to grab his own and intertwine their fingers together. He looked down at his cracked, pale skin, and compared it to the smooth, tanner hand of his daughter’s. He gave a squeeze back and steeled himself for the rest of this discussion.

“If we were sending someone like Kurama back, then we wouldn’t have to worry about this other condition. He is already only made up of chakra. There’s no body to be involved. We would just send him back and he would just assimilate with his past self and that would be the end of it. But as we’ve discussed, we can’t take this option because it would take the majority of his own chakra to send him back far enough to make a difference. By the time he got to that point, he wouldn’t have enough chakra to merge with himself and be the more dominant soul. He would just be absorbed and this would have all been for naught.” Minato started to fiddle around with Naruto’s fingers. “So, we would have to send one of us back. But the issue is that we are not made up of only chakra and a soul. Neither now or at any time in the past. We cannot just send ourselves back and hope for the best. The only way to do this right would be to send us back to our past bodies. And the only ones who could do that and actually make a difference are either me, Kakashi or Obito.” He let out a chuckle. “And I don’t know about the two of you, but I enjoyed the way I lived in the past. To have to take that life away from myself… To essentially take away my own life. I can’t do that. It may not have been the longest or the best, but it was fulfilling.

Naruto squeezed her father’s hand again and there was a moment of silence before Kakashi decided to speak up.

”I agree with you, Sensei, but is there any other option for us?” They all looked at the undead Hokage solemnly, but eagerly.

“There is one other option.” Minato said quietly. This is the part he knew his daughter would disagree with. He turned his head so that he could look at her in her blue eyes that were the exact same shade as his own. “Naru-chan, do you remember when we first started looking into the families that lived on the island before the fall? And how we found out that the Uzukage was married to a woman by the name of Namikaze before he married your grandmother?” With her confirming head nod he continued on. “If you remember, they had a child together, but both the mother and child died from some type of poison. If we send your soul and chakra back to right before the child dies, I’m sure your chakra would burn the poison away and you would be able to overtake the body.”

Naruto recoiled and let go of her father’s hand. “Overtake the body? Take over someone else’s life?”

“A life that was already lost. Don’t think too hard on this, dobe. It sounds like a solid plan.” Sasuke spoke up from seat across the fire. “You would be older than your parents then. Which means you would be in a time to stop the destruction of Uzushiogakure. You would be able to help stop the beginning of the Third Shinobi War. You would be able to keep your mother from having to be Kurama’s reluctant Jinchuriki. Don’t think of this as you taking someone’s life. If you need to, think of this as you being reincarnated as this person.”

Naruto wanted to argue. She really did. But she had nothing to say. It was all logical, even if she didn’t like it. She gave her friend a pout and crossed her arms over her chest. “I hate that when you decide to speak in more than undecipherable sounds, it’s to call me an idiot and be logical.” Sasuke rolled his eyes at the girl. Naruto decided to let it be. “So… The rest of this lies on me, huh? The idiot of the Leaf Village.”

Minato frowned and opened his mouth to disagree with her words, but Shikamaru beat him to it. The dark haired shinobi reached out and pulled at her hair with a stern tug.

“Don’t talk about yourself like that, Naruto. You are not an idiot. You’re strong, brave, loyal, an excellent tactician on the fly, and one of the smartest people I know. I can look at seals and know that it takes more than a little bit of intelligence to be able to learn the art and make it work. You’ve been learning with your father for less than a year and I’ve seen you do some amazing things with it. Imagine what you can accomplish growing up on an island full of people who know and teach the art. You’ll be a seal master in no time.” Shikamaru leaned forward to kiss her cheek, causing the blonde to blush. “I know you can do it.”

Minato watched the interaction with a fond smile on his face before clearing his throat and sitting up straight.

“And, Naru-chan, because of how much chakra we all have to spare, it wouldn’t be impossible to say that we wouldn’t be sending you back alone. We’d have enough chakra to send back another person to around the same time. The only problem would be figuring out where to place them.” He looked around at everyone else. “I know it’s highly improbable, but does anyone know of any deaths at a young age that would fit our needs?”

Naruto frowned, not likening the way it was worded, but looked around at her friends, hopeful.

Obito and Sasuke shook their heads. “There were, obviously, many deaths in the Uchiha clan, but I don’t know of any actual young deaths from the time we’re thinking about.” Obito mumbled.

Kakashi sighed and leaned into the older Uchiha. “The only death I knew about around that time was my mother. But she was older, so that won’t work.”

Sakura folded her arms over her chest. “My family have always been traveling merchants. There’s not much I would be able to do even if I knew of anyone who had a young child who died.”

Shikamaru had his hands sitting in his thinking position, a habit he couldn’t kick. “I think… I remember my father telling me the story of how I got my name. There was a Shikamaru before me. My grandfather’s younger brother. My father told me that the clan documented that he had been born on the night of the new moon and had died not too long after suddenly and unexpectedly. My grandfather had been devastated about losing his little brother and had named my father Shikaku in his memory. My father, in return, named me Shikamaru with permission from my grandfather.”

Sakura spoke up quickly. “Lady Tsunade used to tell me stories about how babies would sometimes be born with blocked chakra networks and would die suddenly due to it and no one knew what it was for a while. She actually told me that story because of Lee. She said it was a miracle that he lived to be the shinobi that he was.” A tear fell down the pink haired girl’s face that she swiped away very quickly as she continued to speak. “That is more than likely what caused the sudden death of your great uncle and sending your chakra and soul back would more than likely be the influx of chakra needed to unblock those chakra passages and allow for the body to live.” She gave Shikamaru a hopeful smile.

Shikamaru looked at the Hokage. “So we have another possible candidate.” He suddenly flinched, turning his gaze towards Hinata. “Unless you know of someone as well, Hinata?”

The lavender eyed woman had been quiet the entire conversation, deep in thought. She gave the shadow user a bright smile. “Even if I did know of someone, Shikamaru-kun, I would not say it now.” Everyone looked at the Hyuuga, confused. “This war has been tough. And we have all had many losses, but we have also found something here with each other that we’ve never thought possible.” She looked towards where Kakashi had his head rested on Obito’s shoulder and how Sakura held tight to a Leaf Village headband that was attached to a red cloth. Lee’s that he had gifted to her before his sacrifice. And then looked down at how Sasuke held tight to her own hand, probably not even realizing it completely. “Yes, we have all made new connections here. And you, Shikamaru-kun, have the most obvious one with Naru-chan.” The blonde and shadow user blushed. “And I can easily say that I would rather lay down my life here for the opportunity to send you two back together so that you can, one: save our world, and two: be with each other for the rest of your days, surrounded by the people you love and without worry. Please allow us to do this for you two.” Hinata bowed her head, stunning the young couple.

Kakashi gave his closed eyed smile from across the fire and bowed his head as well. “I couldn’t have said it better myself, Hinata-chan.” There were hums and nods of agreement from everyone else around the fire.

Minato smiled and gave a sudden clap. “Then it is decided! I will work on the seal and then, we will do what was thought to be impossible.” He stood and ruffled his daughter’s hair gently before making his way back towards the Uzukage tower.

Kurama huffed at the humans in his life and turned around to face Naruto, having been quiet the entire time. “You better make sure that I’m your Jinchuriki again, brat. I quite like how you treat me.” Naruto gave Kurama a sad smile that slowly transformed into a bright one as she reached her arms around the fox to give him a tight hug. “Don’t squeeze so tight, human.” He grumbled, but didn’t dare to move away.

***

It only took three days of sketches with Minato and Naruto going back and forth about the seal before they were able to paint the official seal on the floor of an intact sealing room in the tower.

Three days of the others meditating and trying their best to not waste any excess chakra. Three days of making peace with themselves and saying their goodbyes.

Naruto was, obviously, the one hit the hardest with the situation. She was about to lose the rest of her friends and be stranded in a time she knew nothing about. Alone until she could be reunited with Shikamaru again. When her father wasn’t bouncing Fuinjutsu concepts off her, she was spending some time with the others.

She had been forced to take lunch with Hinata and Sakura on the first day, listening to the girls talk and try to teach her small, quick things about medical ninjutsu, chakra control, and how to be a real lady and kunoichi. Things she had been neglected in learning when she was much younger.

That same night, Obito sat next to her at dinner and was adamant with talking to her about how she couldn’t become a stick in the mud like Kakashi used to be. The silver haired man had rolled his eyes from across the fire at that. He told her that even though her past hadn’t been the best, and he was mostly to blame for that, that he wished she would use this new life as a new opportunity to live the way she was supposed to the first time around. Naruto had just patted his head and force fed him some of the fish that was cooked for dinner to shut him up. Kakashi laughed outright at the Uchiha’s stunned expression.

Sasuke had woken her up early the next morning to go out to the beach and watch the sunrise on the other side of the island. And he had decided that he would teach her how to handle a sword while they were there. Naruto whined about how she wasn’t going to learn Kenjutsu in a morning, but her broody brother didn’t care. He made her create clones so that she could at least learn the katas. “I’ll have to learn this all over again, Sasuke. I’m not sure why you’re insisting on this.” Naruto had mumbled as the Uchiha corrected her leg positions.

“Because I hope, dobe, that the techniques will imprint themselves on your soul and your chakra. Because if it does, just a little, that’s just one step closer to you being able to protect yourself without me there.” the Uchiha said before stepping away to make her do the move again. Naruto wanted to mention how she had been without him for a while now, but she kept it to herself. If it made him feel better, she was not going to ruin it.

Once she was able to escape the impromptu lesson, she was with her father for the remainder of the day until Shikamaru came to pull her away and feed her dinner on the roof of a mostly intact building. Now, if their small dinner turned into a make out session as well, Naruto wasn’t complaining. But then soft and playful touches and kisses turned into bruising holds and desperation. Like most of their intimate moments. It often made Naruto wonder if they would have ended up together in a different life. If the war had never happened. If they weren’t some of the last few people left. Every one of their intimate moments felt like a last goodbye, but that was the life of a ninja. Maybe she was just overthinking it. Later, before they went back down to join the others, Naruto draped herself over Shikamaru’s body and ran her fingers through his soft hair as he stared up at the sky. “Shika, you know I won’t hold it against you if we get to the past and you didn’t want anything to do with me.” Naruto whispered, putting out all her insecurities in that one simple sentence. The shadow user stopped breathing for a moment before he let out a full bodied laugh, jostling the blonde and making her give an irritated huff.

“You troublesome woman.” Shikamaru wrapped his arms around her waist and rolled them so that he was pinning her to the roof with his body. “You won’t be getting rid of me so easily. We Nara may be lazy, but once we have something or someone, we keep them.” He leaned down to give her a kiss.”And I plan on keeping you, Naru. For the rest of my days.” The blonde blushed and gave her boyfriend a small smile before pulling him down to kiss her again. They never ended up back with the rest of the group that night.

Naruto would have spent her lunch with Shikamaru the next day, but Kakashi was quick to swoop in and take her away to a secluded spot in the woods not far from the tower. He whistled and sat behind her, brushing and braiding her hair. It was a habit that he had started with the girls not long after running for their lives from Kaguya. It had started with Naruto after her hair had grown long enough to start getting in the way while she was trying to fight. She was about to hack it all off one night, but Kakashi stopped her and made her sit patiently as he conjured up his memories on how he used to braid Kushina’s hair back when she was pregnant. Naruto had smiled at him and gave him a small hug, asking if he could do it again for her every once in a while. It eventually turned into him braiding Hinata and Sakura’s hair as well and he did it all happily.

Naruto sat quietly as she nibbled on some fish while Kakashi worked. When he was done, he rested his head on her shoulder so that she could see his eye smile. “All done, Naru-chan.” Naruto sighed and leaned back into the man that she had come to think of as her older brother. Their relationship was weird and strained at first as it seemed like the silver haired man wanted nothing to do with any of his students and then he started to focus on one. Naruto had resented him for a while, and after Sasuke had left, she downright hated him because Kakashi had all but disappeared from her life. But then she left with Jiraiya and when she came back, she was mostly indifferent about her old sensei, if not a little excited to see him, or anyone that she had known, really. He was, technically, still her sensei after all of that, but she slowly started to see him less as that and more of a weird older brother who didn’t know how to truly interact with other people. She had told him as much and he had huffed with a blush on his cheeks and demanded she call him Aniki, which she had refused for the longest time until after they lost a lot of their forces after the initial battle with Madara and then Kaguya during the war. They had been hiding in the mountains of lightning country and Kakashi had had a fight with Obito, so he was huddled close to Naruto as they tried their best to stay warm. Naruto had grumbled and hid her face in her knees as Kakashi had, essentially, draped his body over hers as she was kind of a furnace. “I love you. I really do, Kaka-aniki, but please don’t use me to hide from your boyfriend.” Kakashi had blushed and tried to make excuses as his sensei, Naruto’s father, had laughed from his seat not too far from the both of them. But then Kakashi had realized what Naruto had called him and he held her tighter then, trembling. Naruto ignored the tears that she could feel seeping into her shirt as the man hid his face against her back.

“Thank you, Aniki. Do you want the rest of the fish? I’m not very hungry.” Naruto asked, reaching up to tug at the silver haired man’s mask. Kakashi swatted at her hand and bumped his head against hers.

“I know you’re stressed out about everything that’s about to happen, Naruto, but please at least try and finish your food. You don’t want to make bad habits.” Kakashi let out a dramatic sigh and tossed himself back against the ground. “Geez, what are you going to do without your dutiful aniki in the past? You’ll starve or train yourself to death.”

Naruto rolled her eyes and slapped Kakashi’s leg. “Stop being so dramatic. Besides, I’ll have you again eventually.”

Kakashi let out an amused huff and sat back up. “But then you’ll be the oneechan. I won’t be able to big brother you.” He said with a pout. He tugged a little at her braid.

“From the stories Obito tells from when you were kids, I’m sure you’ll find a way.” She giggled when Kakashi pouted and threw himself back on the ground again while calling her mean.

Not too long after lunch, Naruto and her father had completed the seal. Naruto wanted to wait until the next day to try activating it, but the others, once they learned about it being complete, did not see the need to wait. They all joined the two blonds in the sealing room and Minato explained how it would all work. The seal essentially pulled chakra from any source that wasn’t the chakra or soul being transferred until it eventually drained it. Once all of that was complete, and the seal had built up enough energy to do what it was designed, it ripped the chakra and soul from the intended travelers and transplanted them to where they needed to be. Which means that Naruto and Shikamaru would have to concentrate on their own tasks of leading their energies exactly where they needed to go after they ended up in the correct time.

Minato explained that the seal would not hurt the others, but would more than likely put them to sleep before they died of chakra depletion. Naruto bit her lip and trembled as her father approached her and Shikamaru and drew seals on their foreheads that would help guide them and keep the seal from draining their chakra as well. Minato had seals painted on his hands as well so that he could keep the seal going until the very end.

There was no need for goodbyes in the moment either, as everyone had already made peace with what was about to happen. Naruto had as well, reluctantly. But that didn’t stop her from crying tears that she hadn’t in a while. Shikamaru turned to her and wiped them away before giving her a kiss and whispering that everything would turn out fine.

Right before Minato was about to activate the seal, Kurama released himself from Naruto’s seal and pulled as much chakra with him that he could compress into a slightly larger form without invading the entire room and without completely pulling it all from Naruto. “I’m counting on you to make yourself my Jinchuriki again, brat. Do not disappoint me.”

Naruto let out a choked laugh and bowed her head. Of course those would be Kurama’s parting words with her. “You got it, fuzz ball.” The Kyuubi huffed and they all turned to Minato to begin the seal. The man nodded and began a long sequence of hand signs.

”Remember, Naruto and Shikamaru, concentrate on your intended vessels and where your souls and chakra should migrate. Do not waver.” They both nodded, determined, and Minato quickly finished off the rest of the hand signs. “Fuin!”

Immediately, the others began to feel it. One by one, the seal drained the chakra from the remaining shinobi in the elemental nations. The more chakra they lost, the more the seal began to glow. They were all sitting down already, but Sakura was the first to wane and eventually fall over onto her side, asleep then gone, as she was the one with the least amount of chakra. Hinata was next. Naruto had to close her eyes tight to keep from seeing her family die. But she could still feel them leave her. Her body trembled so hard that Shikamaru had to wrap his arms around her and hold her close, whispering to her that everything would be okay.

Kakashi, as dense as his chakra was, was the next to falter. He reached out to take Obito’s hand before falling unconscious. The Uchiha took him into his arms and held him close as he and Sasuke followed the others into death not too long after.

Kurama’s chakra would take the longest to drain, but it was draining surprisingly fast. The fox shifted uncomfortably as he pulled more chakra from Naruto’s seal to compensate before there was almost none left to pull. He left that there so that his Jinchuriki didn’t die before the sealing was complete. Eventually, he became small enough so that he could curl up against Naruto and Shikamaru and let the girl bury her fingers and face into his warm fur. He let out an amused huff, but said nothing more. No words were needed right now.

When Kurama’s chakra was finally gone, Naruto was a sobbing mess. Shikamaru held her as tight as he could and told her it was time for her to concentrate. They didn’t have time for tears. Naruto slowly pulled herself together as the seal started to pull away at her father’s chakra.

Just then, off in the distance, the two blonds could feel the Uzushio sage shields break and then they felt her. Kaguya. She had finally found them.

Minato let out a loud and vindictive laugh as more Edo Tensei cracks began to form across his borrowed body as his chakra left him. It was too late for the goddess. By the time she arrived, the seal would be complete. He smiled and looked up at the two travelers.

”Good luck to you both. I love you so much.” He forcefully pushed his remaining chakra into the seal and his body crumbled apart.

Naruto and Shikamaru gripped each other tight as they could feel the seal pulling at them, ripping them apart. The last thing Naruto heard was the vicious scream of the rabbit goddess in the distance before everything went dark.

***

Light, colors, and sounds slowly came back to her. Everything felt odd as she tried to move around and realized that there was no actual body holding her together. She looked around and noticed that she was in a room where attendants rushed around and what looked like doctors tended to a pale woman with long, curly, golden hair who held tight to an equally as pale baby with red tufts of curls on its head. Both of their breathing was labored and they didn’t look like they would be alive much longer.

This, Naruto realized, was her vessel. She slowly floated down towards the child and the woman, probably its mother, opened her eyes and seemed to look right at her. A gasp escaped the woman and she used trembling arms to hold the baby up to Naruto.

“Please,” she whispered. “Please save my baby girl.”

The doctors sighed and tried to make her put the child down. “We have someone still working on it, Uzumaki-sama, but the poison is something new from Suna. It’s not anything we’ve seen before.” The doctor didn’t sound particularly sad, but he knew this was a lost cause. Their Uzukage would not be happy.

The woman shook her head and held the baby closer to Naruto. “Not you. The angel. Please save my baby.” The doctor thought that the woman was hallucinating and marked that down as a symptom of the poison, but Naruto knew the truth. The woman could see her and thought she was an angel. With pure determination, she forced her chakra and soul to take on a more human form. Naruto reached out her hands and covered the woman’s hands on the baby, giving a slight squeeze before she shifted them to gently stroke the baby’s head. Naruto could feel the seal that her father painted on her shift around until it settled itself on the baby.

This was it. She was about to take over this child’s life. She understood, realistically, that the child would not survive much longer without her intervention, but it still pained her to have to do this.

“Thank you.” The whisper startled Naruto out of her thoughts and she glanced at the woman as she started to feel her chakra being absorbed into the small body. “Thank you for saving her. My little Tsubaki will grow stronger than the rest. She has an angel on her side.” The woman’s face looked pained, but she was still smiling. She slowly lowered the baby back to her chest and started to hum a song. Color returned to baby Tsubaki’s skin as Naruto’s essence started to burn away at the poison that was ravaging the body just moments ago.

The doctor was stunned and called for aid as it looked like the child now had a fever when just a few seconds ago she was ice cold.

The door to the sick room slammed open and a man with long red hair ran into the room. He fell onto the bed next to the woman and reached out to touch her pale cheek. “Nikko! I came as fast as I could.” He looked over his wife before turning his attention to their baby. “No one explained anything to me. What happened to my wife and child?” He said with a growl, turning his attention to the doctor. Uzumaki Arashi, the Uzukage, was not a man to be trifled with. He had a reputation that made people tremble if they saw him in battle. He wasn’t just named after the storm. This man was a storm.

The doctor looked away, wondering where his help was. “It is poison, Uzukage-sama. Something from Suna that we’ve never seen before. There seems to be nothing we can do, but your child has started to develop a fever and your wife is having hallucinations. We have them marked down as more symptoms of the poison.”

Arashi snarled and stood. “If you are not going to do anything for my family, then what is the point of you?” The doctor flinched away, but Nikko lifted a weak hand to take her husband’s. And just that quickly, the storm faded and the man returned his attention to his love. As dangerous as a shinobi this man was in his daily life, he was always a gentle soul to those that he loved. Naruto, who was just barely finished with being assimilated into the child, was getting a bit of whiplash from the swinging emotions in the room.

“Arashi. I’m sorry that I have to leave you.” Nikko whispered as her husband came closer. The man tried to shush her, but she just shook her head and brought their baby closer to him. “You won’t be alone though. An angel has saved our Tsubaki. Raise her well. Raise her to be strong and brave.” She gave him a weak smile. “Raise her to be a warrior far more tenacious and powerful than any Namikaze before her.”

The Uzumaki’s hands trembled as he reached up to stroke his wife’s hair out of her face. “I promise, Nikko. Tsubaki will want for nothing and she will be the fiercest woman anyone will ever encounter. I promise.”

Naruto closed her eyes, giving the two their last moment together just as she was finally absorbed into the body of the baby. She opened her eyes to a white room with a small bundle laying on the floor not too far from her. She slowly approached and looked down to see a small baby girl with curly red hair and blue eyes just slightly darker than her own. She did not look well either. Silent cries came from the child and her face was scrunched up as if in pain. Naruto got down to her knees and reached out to lift the baby. When they physically touched, the sound of the cries hit Naruto like a slap to the face.

“Tsubaki,” she whispered. “I am so sorry, little one.” She rocked the baby gently in an attempt at comfort. It seemed to work as the cries started to quiet down and got softer. “I’m so sorry that this has happened to you.” She pulled the baby into a soft hug. “Rest now. Everything will be okay.”

On the island nation of Whirlpools, a baby opened ocean blue eyes to the world to see the blurry form of a red haired man leaning over her and crying. The baby let out a little gurgle to try and tell the man that everything would be okay. A gasp escaped the man and the baby felt large hands scoop her up and left her against a solid chest.

“Oh Tsubaki. Thank the gods. Nikko was right.” He nuzzled his cheek against hers. “Your mother was right. You were saved. I promise this will never happen again. Papa will keep you safe, okay?”

The baby, Tsubaki, just let out a little sigh and closed her eyes, too tired to do anything but sleep.

***

Not too far away, in the Land of Fire, a certain shadow user had significantly less time than his counterpart to come to peace with what was about to happen.

His chakra and soul took shape in a small room that was familiar, but foreign at the same time. A small medical room inside the Nara compound. A place he did not see often from before.

Inside the room a woman with dark brown hair was having a difficult time with coming to terms with what the doctor was trying to tell her.

Green glowing hands hovered over her youngest son. A precious life that she had only just brought into the world the day before. She was told that he didn’t have much longer to live.

”His chakra passages are blocked, my Lady. No matter what I try, I am only prolonging the inevitable.” The doctor said with much sadness in his voice.

The woman stood and glared at the man with tears in her eyes. “What use are you if you cannot save my son?” She asked with a hiss, forcing the doctor out of the room. She knew she wasn’t being completely fair, but her heart was breaking. She returned to her child’s side and whispered to him that he would be okay. That she would take care of him forever.

Shikamaru watched this and let out a small chuckle. Troublesome woman. He reached out and placed a hand on the baby’s head, wishing he could alleviate some of his grandmother’s pain, but he was more concerned about assimilating himself with his vessel in hopes that it would survive. He hoped that what Sakura said was true and that his chakra would force the body’s coils unblocked.

As soon as he laid his hand on the child, he could feel the seal transfer itself and he heard the woman let out a gasp. He glanced over and saw her looking right at him with tears in her eyes.

“Please don’t take my baby.” Shikamaru was confused at first, but if he thought about it he knew how this must look. If she would see him, she was more than likely seeing him as a wavering light. She had just heard that her baby was in a dire situation. He must look like an angel or a grim reaper, come to take a soul. Unfortunately, that was half true.

He reached out his hand to the woman who hesitated at first, but lifted her own to touch it, making a shiver run down her spine. She seemed to relax though, as if feeling something familiar. The Nara may be an underrated clan in the village, but there were things about them that not everyone knew. The clan were shadow users because they were born with shadows in their souls. The blessed children of Daikokuten, the god of great darkness. Their chakra was easily recognizable to any other Nara in the vicinity because of this. They used the shadows because they were born from the shadows. He didn’t understand the lore of his clan at first, thinking it was just a silly story, but he knows now. Has lived the lore for the remaining days of his previous life. Shikamaru’s soul and chakra, by now, were enriched in darkness.

His great grandmother recognized him for who he was. A shadow. A Nara.

The woman nodded her head, not knowing exactly what was going on, but knowing what must be done. Shikamaru nodded his head as well and turned his attention back to the baby, placing both hands on it and forcing his chakra and soul into the vessel, hoping that the intense influx of chakra would do what it needed to.

Shikamaru opened his eyes to darkness and found himself laying on his back, his fingers just barely brushing against something small and shaking. He turned his head and could make out the small, frail shape of his vessel. The original Shikamaru’s soul. He could hear little pained breaths as the soul reflected the body’s ailment.

He rolled himself over and brought his body closer so that he could wrap around the baby and touch his cheek with a gentle touch.

”I’m sorry that you didn’t have more time in this world, but I thank you for everything you’re giving me.” He placed a kiss on the baby’s head. “Rest now, Shikamaru.”

In the dark of the night in the middle of the Nara compound, a woman held her breath as she watched as color returned to her baby’s skin and a thick shadow settled into the corners of the room. Her hand trembled as she reached out to give him a gentle touch and let out a relieved sob when she felt a strong fluttering heartbeat under her fingers. She picked up her baby and held him to her chest as she cried and thanked the ancestors and gods for sending someone to save her son.

”You are so strong, my little fawn. My Shikamaru. And you have a family full of shadows who will protect you and make you stronger.” She whispered to him as she rocked the boy back and forth, smiling when he let out a little sigh. “Such a Nara already.”

She stood and moved to the door to introduce her little deer to his older brother and the rest of the clan.

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