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roger-that-cap · 4 years ago

Text

peace

natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary: natasha wanted to marry you more than she wanted everything, but how was she supposed to propose to you and ask you to be hers forever when she couldn’t give you even the simplest of things?

warnings: so this is minimal angst, don’t be fooled, this is fluff, ya know the drill. this may or may not be cheesy, but i tried

word count: 6.4k, short and sweet

so, i listened to peace by taylor swift while i wrote this one. take that information how you wish lollll. also, not edited!

Natasha met you years ago. You were the bright eyed girl at the front counter of an ice cream shop near the tower, soft serve shop. Natasha, ever the reader of mankind, immediately knew that you were kind, patient and simply sweet. Sweeter than the vanilla cone she had treated herself to, the one that you had made yourself because your coworkers were on an extra long break that wasn’t exactly authorized.

You knew who she was, but you didn’t ask her for anything. No autograph, no murmuring of a catchphrase, nothing about whether or not Captain America would be into you. Natasha admired that. She loved that she saw the flash of excitement and recognition in your eyes, but that it never went further than you asking her if she wanted sprinkles.

That one encounter led to many more. Soon, you two were on a date, after you had been brave enough to ask if she wanted to go on a picnic in the park after she kept coming into the store. And that one date was enough for you both to know that you wanted to see each other again, and again, and again.

You and Natasha spent two months dating each other before making it official, and it was the best decision either of you had ever made.

You made her feel like she was needed and loved, and she made you feel like you were cherished and safe. The feeling that you got when you looked at her was just so… natural. You weren’t worried about angering her, or about messing up in front of her. She made you feel calm, and one look at her washed all the jitters out of your nerves easily.

And in return, there was no one on the entire planet that made Natasha as happy as you did. You were the one, and it was almost over night when she realized that you were it.

One night, she was in bed next to you after a long day of training recruits and having a briefing for an upcoming mission. She had only been in your apartment for about twenty minutes, just lying in your gentle and welcoming arms, and she was fighting the urge to nod off where she felt safest. She was tired, but she knew one thing above everything else, and it was that she wasn’t going to waste an entire night with you because she wanted to sleep.

“You don’t have to stay awake, sprinkles.” You said to her in the dark room, your hand smoothing her hair. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you all day.” Maybe that’s when Natasha should have noticed. When the urge to talk to you was stronger than the drive that she had while training recruits, or when she nearly forgot that she couldn’t go home early because of how much she was just ready to.

“I won’t be upset, you work hard,” you said softly. “You deserve some peace and quiet. Sleep, I’ve got you.”

Natasha did a few things for the first time in a long time that night.

One: she felt at peace enough to fall asleep immediately.

Two: she went to sleep with the sound of someone humming in her ear.

Three: she realized that she was completely in love with her girlfriend.

There were plenty of times that hinted to her that she was falling in love. She looked for you or an essence of you everywhere, from seeing something the color of your eyes to looking over at your favorite brand of yogurt in the grocery store and contemplating buying it. Whenever you smiled, she couldn’t help but grin twice as big. If you laughed, she was happy. When you were upset, she wanted nothing more than to make it better, than to eliminate whatever it had been that made you feel that way. She would do anything for you. And she really believed that you would do anything for her right back.

Your relationship wasn’t perfect, but it was damn near it. It was the thing Natasha was most proud of, just like you were the person that Natasha was proudest of to call hers. And she wanted that. She wanted you to be hers for the rest of your life, and she wanted nothing more than to be officially yours.

And that was why she stood in a high end jewelry store that specialized in special rings, closed for two hours from the public just for her. And Tony and Steve, who desperately wanted to tag along.

Tony was more of the planner and the doer. He was the one pointing out the rings that seemed pretty, the ones that looked like they would fit your style. He was the businessman, ready to negotiate price even though he could easily afford the entire store ten times over. Steve, however, was the mother hen. Hovering mostly silently, an excited buzz flowing out and touching everyone else in the vicinity. He was excited for Natasha, it was obvious, and he also wanted to make her feel as comfortable and ready as possible.

“That one’s pretty, isn’t it?” Tony muttered, pointing towards an intricate ring with a diamond in the middle of the studded band. “Y/N likes stuff like that.”

“No she doesn’t,” Steve cut in, and he pointed to a ring that was quite literally the opposite of the one Tony was referring to. It was a simple ring, one with a silver band and a decently sized diamond in the middle. It was clearly an engagement ring, but it wasn’t flashy. “That one is probably closer to what she’d like.”

Everyone in the tower knew you well. Natasha made sure that you knew her friends well when you two started to get really involved. You introduced her to your siblings and parents, and she let you meet her own family, the Avengers. Natasha remembered the day that you met everyone vividly. Everyone had loved you immediately, and she was so proud of the way that you handled yourself while being so nervous. Hell, she was always proud of you.

You made fast and sturdy friendships with everyone and fit in well, and that was all Natasha could ever ask for. Eventually, she started to bring you over at least once a week just to hang out with everyone, to get you familiar with every member of her found family.

Perhaps that was another sign that she should have taken and read. She had never introduced a significant other to the family that she cherished so much, not once before you.

“Steve’s right,” Natasha murmured, and she heard Tony’s playful scoff. “But I have no idea when I’m going to actually do it.”

“You don’t have a trip planned?” Tony asked incredulously. “Well, I can schedule anything you want, whenever you want. Just ask me.”

Natasha knew exactly what Tony was referring to. He had gone above and beyond for every romantic gesture that was ever for Pepper, and Natasha knew that your relationship wasn’t like that. You didn’t need grand gestures or long trips to beaches. The both of you were happier than ever just being with each other. She knew that you would cry in the middle of a Wendy’s if she popped the question there and held her hand patiently waiting for the ring. The location mattered the least.

“We probably won’t do a trip, that’ll make it obvious.” There was one thing that Natasha was very picky about that had to do with the whole affair, and that was surprise. She wanted you to be the most pleasantly surprised you had ever been in your life, and she wanted to watch those beautiful eyes of yours light up and start to water in the most joyous of ways. She wanted the cheesy hand-over-heart move, the hand grabbing, the excited chatter of a small gathering of random people looking. And most of all, she wanted to hear your elated yes and she wanted to slip the ring onto your ring finger, and she never wanted to see it off from that moment on.

But that was just her.

Natasha, Steve, and Tony spent another hour in the jewelry store. The owner was buzzing around, clearly excited for the amount of business that their presence was sure to rope in. He took a picture of them and promised not to release it until Natasha proposed, even though he was quite literally bursting at the seams to brag about it. In the end, Natasha ended up getting a pretty ring with a silver band and a nice sized diamond, simple and just your type.

They were on their way out when Tony spotted paparazzi. He stopped in his tracks and turned around. “Okay, I’ll go first to lead them away.”��

“Why?”

“If Y/N sees you on a tabloid at a ring shop with me and Steve… the surprise is up.” Tony made a clicking noise with his tongue and left without anything else to say, strolling out and indeed leading all of the people with cameras away from the shop, all of them entranced by the billionaire.

To be safe, Natasha and Steve waited for a few more minutes before walking out and getting jumbled in with the crowd. Her grip on the bag was tight, and she was holding the box in her hand through it. So, are you excited?”

“Not as excited as you,” she teased, but even she could hear the nerves in her voice. “I just don’t wanna ruin anything.”

“Please,” Steve scoffed. “Y/N is so in love with you that I forget that you two aren’t already married, honestly.”

Steve saying it aloud made Natasha’s heart race, even though she already knew that. That was one of the million wonderful qualities about you. She never had to ask you for validation, because you told her with everything you did. You tapped her hand three times at parties. You whispered it into her ear before you both went to sleep. You kissed her cheek or her jaw when she started to get antsy, and rubbed her back while you did it. Every touch, every kiss, every breath that the both of you took told the other that you loved them. There was no question about that.

“So, what are you worried about? She’ll say yes. Everyone knows that.”

If only Steve knew that it was so much more than you saying a three letter word instead of a two letter one.

They walked back in silence to the tower, comfortable silence between two friends who were both deep in their own heads even as they swiped their clearance cards and went into the elevator.

§§

Natasha always felt bad when she lied to you, no matter how small or white the lie was. One day, it was small and for the both of you, but it still didn’t smooth the guilt.

She had told you that she had a late night meeting, top secret, and that she would call you when you could come up in her room. “So, that’s the plan.”

“You’re gonna pop the question of your lives in the park?” Tony asked, a brow quirked upwards. “Well, to each their own.”

Wanda rolled her eyes. “That’s a really sweet idea, Nat. Tony, here, is just annoying.”

“Thank you, Wanda.” Natasha said, and then turned to the billionaire. “So, what would you do, then?”

“I would go on a crui-”

“Yeah, I’m thinking Nat wants a more casual approach,” Sam said, giving Tony a once over. “So the park would be great.”

“I know,” she said absentmindedly, thoughts already on the next hour, where she would be on the couch in her quarters with you, watching one of your favorite shows together.

“We’re still allowed to come, right?” Wanda asked, gently bringing Natasha out of her thoughts.

“Of course.” That was another thing she really wanted. Her family had to see everything happen first hand, that was non negotiable. “Just lurk in the shadows, she’ll know what's happening if she sees all of you.”

That night, she left the tower to go to your apartment rather than just have you come over and swipe your card that Tony had made you. She figured that the less people around that knew about the proposal, the less likely it was that someone was going to spoil it.

She wasn’t an idiot. Weddings were special to you. Hell, when you were younger, you used to want to be a wedding planner. Natasha knew that a goal in your life was to be loved by someone so much that they wanted to spend their life with you, and luckily, the both of you found that in each other.

“Baby,” Natasha called when she stepped through the threshold of your apartment, her ears already pricked up as she heard the television coming from the room that you had moved half of her belongings into. She smiled as she walked closer, purposely making her footfalls a little louder so that she didn’t startle you.

You were smiling at her when she opened the door to the bedroom, and Natasha felt her heart stutter for a second as she caught her bearings. “Hi, sprinkles. How was work?”

She would never get tired of the sound of your voice. “It was alright.” Natasha walked over to you, and you leaned into her hand, the same one that always reached for your face and cradled your cheek, her own little greeting. “You weren’t there, so.”

“Sadly I was doing soft serve,” you said, rolling your eyes at the customers you had encountered. “And one woman was particularly… not nice.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, baby.” Natasha said softly, pulling you closer. “At least now all you have to worry about is sitting down in time to catch your show.”

“That is my only worry,” You agreed playfully. “Come sit, I’m tired. And I know you are, too.”

§§

Natasha thought that she was going to do it as you walked through the park, on a trail that the rest of the Avengers were following you on flawlessly. She was surprised that they could keep that quiet for that long, especially Steve, with his non-stealthy physique and training. But they were doing it. In a way, it made Natasha worried out of her mind that you couldn’t feel that five people were trailing you. But she forced that part of her mind, the one that was always so overwhelmed with the need to keep you close and safe, to the back of her mind, and instead felt for the little box in her pocket.

“Oh, do you hear that bird singing?” You asked softly, trying not to disturb the peace. She watched your eyes scan the tips of the trees, watching as a smile grew on your face and planting one of her own. “I wish I could see it.”

“You go bird watching all the time,” Natasha mused at you, and you snorted a bit.

“But we never really sit down and do it together,” you said after a moment, and just like that, Natasha’s excitement was dried out. Her fingers left the box in her jacket pocket, and her hand swung at her side with the other held by your hand.

“What?”

“We just don’t do it much, ‘s all.” Like you sensed that you had said something that changed the mood of your little stroll, you turned to look at her. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

But there was. There was everything wrong with that statement. Mostly because it was one hundred percent true. The two of you didn’t have any time to bird watch or stargaze like you wanted to. And it wasn’t on your end, no, it was on her’s.

She came home late more often than not. She left early in the morning, sometimes before the sun even rose. She was sent on missions that were weeks long, sometimes even months. Sometimes, she didn’t even get to warn you or say goodbye before she had to get on a quinjet, just up and leaving and sending a text, apologizing for things she couldn’t control.

“Nat?” She hadn’t even realized that she stopped walking. But she had. Her arm was stretched out towards you because you hadn’t dropped her hand yet, and you closed the gap between the two of you with a look of concern on your face. “You okay?”

“Um, yeah.” She cleared her throat and rubbed her face with her hand, blinking a few times as the familiar guilty feeling burned in her chest like acid. “Wanna keep walking?”

For the rest of the walk, Natasha was stuck in her head. She was good at multitasking, so she indulged you and your words to the best of her ability while she thought about how terrible she felt for you. She couldn’t even take you birdwatching. And she thought that you would want to marry her?

“Are you ready to head back, darling?” Natasha asked once the sun started to finally make its retreat, and after she felt that the others had left and were far ahead of them. They knew her just as well as you did, and they knew that it wasn’t the day that she was going to ask.

“As long as it’s with you,” you murmured, and then you turned around to press your lips to hers in an innocent, binding kiss, and then pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Natasha said back just as sincerely, wrapping her arms around you and hugging you right in the trail, closing her eyes tight and waiting for the feet and doubt to subside.

It didn’t.

§§

It took two more failed attempts for Steve to finally come knocking on her door one night. The night of the third failed proposal attempt, everyone was anxious to see a ring on your finger, and everyone just wanted it to be done so that they could plan the wedding.

Natasha was not on the same page.

At first, the team was confused. Natasha’s love for you never wavered. It was as certain as the sun rising and falling, as the tide coming in and going out. It was constant, and it never faltered. So her backing out of making it official, of finally tying to knot with you, confused everyone. And then, they thought about what exactly made the change in conversation.

Wanda was the one to crack the code. She subtly picked at Natasha’s mind during the last of the failed proposals, and when she came back out into the present, she didn’t seem surprised at all.

The first thing that Wanda said when they all got back to the car was, “she doesn’t think that she’s enough.”

Doubt.

Natasha Romanoff never doubted herself. She was the best assassin in the world, capable of literally anything that she put her mind to. She had no reason to doubt herself. Until she started to work for someone else, not just for herself.

“What is she doubting?” Tony muttered, the exhaustion at watching one of the boldest people he knew dancing around a woman who clearly loved her to death. “Y/N is going to say yes. She would say it if Nat asked her on the toilet.”

“No, it’s not that,” Wanda said softly, shaking her head. “She thinks that she’s… neglecting her. That her presence isn’t often enough. She feels guilty about her job.”

Silence.

That was something many of them who had relationships dealt with. The balance between domestic life and life as an Avenger was hard to achieve. Not only did the Avenger have to know when to separate things. The Avenger also had to find someone who knew what they did, what their job entailed, and that they would both have to make sacrifices. You knew how to do those things. So what was the problem?

“Y/N takes the distance and the danger really well,” Steve stated. “So, what’s the problem?”

Wanda shrugged. “There was… there was more. But I didn’t have enough time to really see.”

While the others tried to figure out what was going on the the former assassin’s brain, Natasha was back in her room, sitting and twiddling her thumbs as she thought. Her eyes kept going back to the box, resting on it very now and then before she looked away in apprehension.

There were three knocks on her door, way too harsh and precise to be you. Besides, you hardly ever knocked, just as she never knocked on your door. “Um,” Natasha started, and then her brows furrowed as she put the ring in a drawer just in case. “Come in.”

Steve Rogers was standing at her door, arms crossed, a slightly disappointed look set on his face. “What’s up?”

Natasha raised a perfect brow. “You came to my room, Cap.” She crossed her arms as well, even though they both knew that neither was on the defensive. “Are you okay?”

“Why haven’t you done it yet?”

Her heart dropped to her toes, but she knew how to control her facial expressions. She was sure that she would never lose that skill, no matter how old she got and how much she would start to forget things. “Done what?”

Steve shut the door. “You haven’t proposed to her yet. Why not?”

“The time wasn’t right.”

“That’s a lie.”

She wasn’t used to Rogers calling her out so fast. Typically, she was an A list liar, and the only person she failed at lying to was you. She rarely ever did that, and when she did, it was for the better. Like, when she would tell you that she would be back within a few hours knowing that it would be about two nights still. Or when she would tell you that she wasn’t hurt, knowing good and well she had been bleeding out five minutes not even two minutes before she made the call.

The second lie that came to mind came flying out of her mouth. “I’m scared she’ll say no.”

Steve rolled his eyes, to Natasha’s surprise and sligh humor. “She’d find a way to say yes to you even in the afterlife, Natasha. You can’t play the lying game. Not with me, not with us, and especially not with her.”

“Why are you so worked up right now?”

“Because you deserve happiness, and it’s right there in front of you. You’re throwing it away, for what?”

“I never said that I wasn’t going to propose,” the redhead defended, but Steve just put his hands on his hips.

“I can see it in your eyes. You’re not going to unless someone pushes you, and because Y/N can’t in this situation, then I will.” His “Captain” voice was on. “It’s much more than you being worried about something that won’t ever happen, so what’s wrong, Natasha?”

Natasha stood there for a second, her eyes narrowed on him as her face stayed still, and her mind raced a thousand miles an hour. She pursed her lips after a few seconds and breathed in, trying to decide whether or not to spill everything to one of the people that she trusted the most in life, one of the few that she trusted with her very life itself. Her mouth started moving before she could even approve its speech.

“Because of who I am and what I do, I can never give her what she deserves. I can never give her the suburban life, the calm life, the one where all she has to worry about is whether or not she’ll have to go to the store to get more cheese. I can never give her that.”

“I have money, she’ll never have to worry about going hungry or not being able to do things, yes, but at what cost? At the cost of me leaving her by herself one day for forever because of one wrong step? At the cost of me not being there to hold her at night or wake up with her in the morning? I can’t even do simple things with her like stargazing because I don’t have time for it. I don’t have time for her, do you realize how horrible that is? How terrible I feel?”

Whatever Steve was expecting, it surely wasn’t that. Natasha was never one to have an outburst, even with the people she was the most comfortable with. But there she was, spilling all of the feelings she had been harboring within seconds, her eyes resting on Steve’s as they both refused to look away for more than a few seconds at a time.

“I can never give her a calm life without worry, or without pain. She’ll have to be scared about whether or not I got shot in Siberia, or if I’m rotting somewhere at the bottom of a cliff, or if I’m a prisoner halfway across the world. All I bring to the table is worry, and all I want to give her is what she gives me every second I’m with her. Peace. I want that so badly, and she deserves it more than anything. And I can’t give it to her.”

Steve was silent for a moment, and a singular moment turned into two. “Have you ever asked her what she wants?”

The question stopped Natasha’s erratic thoughts in their tracks. “What?”

“Natasha, she’s been with you for years now, and I’ve never heard her complain about your job. I’ve never even seen her cry about you being gone more than anyone else would. She knows what you do, and she knew that when she agreed to be your girlfriend. She wouldn’t have stayed with you if she couldn’t handle it.”

“How do I know she’s handling it?”

“Ask her.” Steve said softly, like he was nudging her with his words alone. “You’ll only know if you ask her.”

As she drove to your apartment that night, her mind was buzzing with nerves. “Ask her,” she mocked, making her voice deeper. “Not that easy.”

The door was open when she got there, enough to make Natasha shout your name with anxiety in her voice, and that sound was enough to make you come poking your head out from the kitchen.

“You alright, sprinkles?”

Natasha could breathe again. And when she inhaled, she smelled chicken in the air. She grinned. “Perfect now,” she said, shutting the door, locking it, and walking over to you.

§§

It hit her in bed with you that she should bring it up. You two always had conversations before bed, it didn’t matter what about. Sometimes, the conversations were as serious as a heart attack, and other times, they were about whether or not Candyland was a good game. That night, it was leaning on the more serious side.

“Y/N,” Natasha called softly, and you hummed in response. “Do you… are you happy? With me?”

The soft humming that was coming from your throat cut off abruptly at the question, a question Natasha had never asked you before. To say that you were confused was an understatement. You two had almost always been on the same page, and if one of you were to be unhappy, the other would know. “Of course I am, Natasha. Why? What’s wrong?”

“Do you think that my job complicates things between us?”

Natasha sat up after you did, looking at her like she was in the process of growing a second head. “What?” Before she couldn’t say much else, you were talking again. “Who put that idea into your head? No, your job doesn’t put a strain on us, unless you feel something on your side?”

“No, no,” Natasha rushed out. “I just… I don't want you to feel like I’m neglecting you. I don’t want you to feel like you’re not getting what you need from me, as a w-girlfriend.”

“Natasha,” your voice was soft in the night, a satisfied and sweet whisper that never failed to calm her nerves. “You give me everything I could ever ask for. You always have, and I think you always will. Is this about stargazing?”

“What?”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you got weird when we were walking in the park,” you said softly, your fingers tracing little hearts on her back. “I told you that we didn’t go stargaze or bird watching together, and you got upset. Is that what this is about?”

She couldn’t lie to you. “Somewhat.”

“Oh, Nat,” you said, and you pulled her closer to you, resting your head on her chest and listening to her heartbeat, steady and constant. “I don’t care about that. All I care about is you.”

“Do you even see enough of me?”

“Your job does not affect me whatsoever,” you answered. “I knew who you were and what you did when I asked you to go to that picnic with me, remember? I knew exactly what you did, and I knew around how much I could or could not be seeing you. I knew everything. So, why would I back out now after all these years? And why would I leave you?”

You had no idea how soothing your words were to Natasha in that moment. To you, it was just reassurance, affirmative words. To her, it was everything. It was the solution to all of her worries regarding the ring that was in her dresser back at the Tower.

“The point is, I could wait up for you to get home until four in the morning and make dinner for you after a long mission every day for the rest of my life, if you wanted me to.” The tracing of hearts never stopped on Natasha’s skin, but her breathing surely did for a second. “Because, what’s losing a few days compared to sharing a lifetime?”

Natasha smiled as the fear washed out of her system like it had never been there. More or less, you had just confessed to her that you wanted to be with her for a lifetime, and that for that lifetime, you didn’t mind any of the things that she was worried about. She was going to do it.

§§

After a short chat with the team, Natasha was finally ready. Like they could all tell that it was the day, they gave her a serious pep talk and Tony even muttered his premature congratulations, even though Wanda insisted that saying it before was a form of bad luck.

The plan was set. She was going to get you from work, pretend like you were going to go to dinner, and then take you stargazing. And then, she was going to pop the question. And hopefully, most likely, you were going to say “yes”.

When her car rolled up to the windows of your store while you were cleaning, you laughed. “Hi, Nat! What’s up?”

“Just here to pick you up,” she said with a smile, and your grinned at her.

“Alright, give me fifteen.”

By the time you had gotten home, gotten dressed and were both seated in the car, Natasha’s hands were sweaty, and the weight of the little box was somehow heavier than anything Natasha had ever carried before. Her leg was bouncing up and down in the driver’s seat, and she hoped that you paid no mind to it.

“It’s pretty tonight,” you mused, and she nodded.

“Yep, very clear.” And it was pure luck. She thanked all the gods that were ever worshipped that it was a clear night. “You can see everything.”

“Yeah, you can.”

“Do you… do you wanna go look at the stars?” She asked, and you turned your head to the side to look at her, a spark in your eyes that had just caught flame.

“You didn’t reserve anything, right?”

Natasha had forgotten about the fake dinner already, her eager mind already onto the next stage. “Oh? No. I didn’t.”

“Then, we should ditch the food and do that. I’ll make you dinner after.”

When Natasha parked on the side of the road, it was empty. It was emptier than it usually was at night, and the closest street lights were off. It made it much easier to see the stars. You were the first one to sit down on the dry grass, and you patted the spot beside you, urging Natasha to sit down with you. The second she did, you laid down and sighed, eyes on the sky.

After a few moments of holding hands with eyes to the stars, roaming the dark blue sky in silence, you quietly began to speak. “It’s so pretty,” you murmured. “I haven’t done this in forever, and I hardly remember what it was like, but I can’t imagine that any other time could have been better than a time with you.”

Natasha turned her head into your neck, resting it there like she always did. “I love you,” she whispered, and you shivered at the intensity laced between the three words, the sincerity warming your heart. “I love you so much.”

“And I love you,” you responded, just as genuinely. You tapped her hand three times with your pointer finger, saying it twice. “More than I love the stars.”

You two stayed there for hours, just watching the sky and ignoring the dull hunger pains that kept leaving and coming back. You spent a little time pointing out constellations, and Natasha told you how to navigate using the stars. Eventually, it was time to leave, and Natasha reached her hand out to you once she stood up.

Natasha slowly walked you towards the car, but you didn’t notice how out of character it was for her to walk without a sense of urgency in the moment. She knew that you couldn’t hear their footsteps, but she could. They were soft and familiar, trying not to alert you of their presence, and they were succeeding. Natasha cleared her throat softly and swallowed her fears.

“Y/N,” she started, and you furrowed your brows at the usage of your name. “Do you remember how we first met?”

You stopped walking, your back towards the approaching people. “Of course I do,” you responded, a smile on your face as you reminisced. “You ordered a cone with no sprinkles, what a weirdo.”

“Is it weird for me to say that I knew?”

“Knew what?”

“I knew that you were going to be a part of my life somehow. Whether it was going to be a friendship, a relationship, or even just an acquaintanceship, I didn’t know. But I knew you’d be around.”

“That’s so sweet, Tasha.” Your bottom lip poked out and you went in to hug her, closing your eyes as you held her tight and then pulled away. “I think I knew after our third date.”

Natasha cracked a smile, even though she felt like she was going to throw up. “Coney Island?”

“Coney Island,” you confirmed, eyes glimmering under the starlight. Natasha was about to get lost in them, well on her way, before she shook her head and cleared her throat again, checking behind you discreetly to make sure that everyone was hiding before she turned you both sideways, so that your side profiles were visible to the others.

“But… you have the most beautiful soul that I’ve ever had the privilege of meeting. You're everything I could ever dream of asking for, and I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything in my life. You’re my day and night, my high tide and low tide, and you’re the only person I’ll ever admit that I need. Because it’s true. You give me a peace that I never hoped to ever receive from anything, and I love you even more for that. You are just… you’re the one for me. And I…” she swallowed as her eyes tore away from yours, and she wiped her sweaty palms on her jacket. “I’m sorry I’m no good at speeches, but I...”

She reached into both pockets at the same time and pulled the box out in a swift movement, and before you even knew what she had done, she was on one knee right in front of you. A strangled noise came from your throat, a gasp and a sigh all the same, and then you put one hand over your mouth.

Natasha’s eyes were watering, and so were yours. “I would be the luckiest woman in the world, the most privileged and honored person in the entire universe, if you let me marry you.”

There was utter silence for a second besides your harsh and surprised breathing. Then, a gasp left your mouth. “Natasha!” You shrieked, a hand still over your mouth as the tears ran down your face, reflecting the joy you felt on the inside. Your emotions roared and rushed inside of you, like a furious river of elation. You blinked rapidly, but you were so happy that your eyes didn’t even get that familiar burning feeling that came with the tears.

“Is that even a fucking question?” You bent down to her level and your lips met hers, passionately and full of love and relief. Neither of you noticed the clapping and cheers after being so immersed in each other.

Natasha pulled away, a shit-eating grin on her face as she started to say something to you, right when you noticed everyone else around you. “Wait, baby, let me put the-”

“Have you been here the whole time?” You shouted towards the rest of the team, who were all watching with proud and excited expressions, and Wanda nodded.

“Most of the time,” she grinned, and you wiped the tears from your face, only to see the one and only Tony Stark recording you and Natasha, who was still on one knee in front of you, holding one of your hands.

“Can I?” Natasha asked from her kneeling position, gesturing towards the ring, and you nodded excitedly. She slipped it on your left ring finger, and you yanked her up with such excitement that she was sure that one of her bones popped, but she didn’t care. She kissed you again, a sweet and meaningful kiss, before she hugged you tightly.

“Thank you.”

You would have been confused if you weren’t on a high. You were going to get married. To Natasha. You were going to have forever with her, like you always wanted. “For what?”

She kissed the shell of your ear softly, and then your jaw and cheek, right where you always kissed her. “For everything, darling.” You leaned back into her, your face in her neck, and she made brief eye contact with her friends, who were all looking at the display of affection with soft eyes and even more tender hearts. She closed her eyes as she felt your heart beating against her chest, savoring the feeling of being so close to the woman that she loved unconditionally, her soon-to-be wife. “For everything.”

****

hey guys! hope y’all liked this one, i wrote it in two hours, and then thought about deleting it, but here she stands. if you liked it, feel free to like and reblog! comments are also widely appreciated, i love those! also, i wanna make friends up here so feel free to blow up my messages! hope you have a great day/night 💕

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #lgbt #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #natasha x you #the avengers #black widow #natasha fluff

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narrators-journal · 4 years ago

Text

Step two

Sorry for the vanishing! I was out with friends for a two days. Because of this, this particular part is a little less edited because I’m exhausted, but! I will post!

Previous part: here

First part: here

Good progress was made in a rather short time after that first night, Illumi felt, but he still had a pretty big issue when it came to more personal matters. Mainly, it was the fact that he struggled to adjust to the life of an impoverished man. He couldn't cook at all, he had no idea how to do laundry, and sleeping in his relatively cheap bed was awful for a conductive rest. That wasn't even touching the fact that being alone without a butler or maid truly revealed how messy he was, his clothes scattered around or piled up to await washing he couldn't provide, snack wrappers here and there, the trash verging into overflowing territory before he bothered to take it out, which wouldn't have been so bad if his goal was not to consequentially get you into his bed, and according to his mother, women weren't keen on sleeping in a dirty bed no matter the charm of the man. However, that matter was for later, on a more cheerful note, he felt he was making relatively good progress with you. Such good progress, in fact, that he had landed a date to a restaurant with you already.

The restaurant was a bit cheap, small, with a very unrefined sort of aesthetic through out, but you had said you enjoyed it, and it was an opportunity to see you dressed up a bit for him. Maybe this is why Father takes Mother out on her demanded dates. he mused while he sat outside in the cool evening air of (f/r) waiting for you in the best 'poor' clothes he had in his closet. He continued to think about his situation until he heard you snort, making him whip his head towards you, eyes beginning to narrow, "Illumi?" you said with a bit of amusement "um, you look very nice, but this isn't the type of place that deserves that type of outfit." you pointed out, gesturing to the dress pants and button up shirt with a tie. In contrast, you had on a rather nice dress, maybe with some leggings, appreciated by the assassin if so, that wasn't super flashy, making Illumi stand out among the other casually dressed customer. "oh. This is the only sort of nice clothes I have." he explained, and he didn't know how to feel about your giggle in response just yet. "Maybe after our...d-date," you turned an adorable shade of pink when you admitted what this outing was, "you can look into buying some less proper clothes." you suggested, and even he had to admit it came off a bit more suggestive or rude than you most likely meant. "S-sorry, that sounded weird." you muttered, your face staying a slightly darker pink this time as you turned your eyes to the sidewalk. Illumi simply smiled, "It's fine, (y/n), let's just go eat." he suggested, and you were quick to agree, letting him lead you into the restaurant. The date was going well in Illumi's mind, though he could about feel the tension rolling off of you in the silence. I guess on a date it's a bit weird to simply sit there in silence. he mused, than remembered his intention with this date, so he began asking you questions about yourself. Admittedly, he was a bit stiff about it, but you seemed to relax little by little as the two of you spoke. It seemed that his slightly off and awkwardly blunt nature worked in his favor as well, since you were soon giggling and smiling at Illumi's 'obliviousness' when his words could come off as different and sometimes more inappropriate than he meant, and the ebony haired assassin decided he enjoyed your laugh, slipping in a few double entendre here and there on purpose to fluster you and make you giggle more. Your laugh was quite pleasing to hear, which was good because he needed a wife who wouldn't be super annoying, wouldn't be demanding of him, and wouldn't require going out of the Zoldyck estate a lot. From how you were so reclusive, he trusted that you'd not want to head into town a lot or down the mountain. She'll most likely hide herself away a lot too, making the biggest obstacle intercourse, but if push comes to shove I can tie her down. He thought while the two of you ate, but then he realized something, Wait, if she's so reclusive because of sexual trauma, tying her down and taking her by force could push her over the edge. I'll need to figure out if her habits are innocent , or trauma related. From there I can plan accordingly. He decided, looking at you with his dark eyes as you ate, attempting to read your body language for hints, but than you spoke out of the blue, "Um, Illumi? Are...you alright?" Your voice was tinged with caution and...discomfort, maybe it was some sort of physical trauma that made you so shut off from the world? He'd have to think on that idea, "Hm? Oh, yes, I'm fine. I was simply admiring your pretty face," he said, grinning at the wave of red that overtook your body in response. You were deliciously easy to fluster. Wooing her must be a simple task, he thought to himself while you cleared your throat, "Um...could I ask you a question?" Your voice was meek, uncertain, making the assassin's heart squeeze with excitement while he nodded, "uh, sorry if this is rude, but why are your eyes like that?" The question was a bit out of the blue, and his silence seemed to convey that seeing how you instantly tried to backpedal, "How are my eyes odd?" he asked, not letting you change the subject, "I dunno, they just seem...kinda dead." you pointed out, and he nodded, "Ah, I can see why that may seem weird, but I don't have a reason for why my eyes seem...dead, they've been like this my whole life," he explained, making sure to add a casual, not-offended lilt to his voice to hopefully quell your remorseful, anxious aura. You nodded, "I-I still think they are very pretty eyes, uh, very hypnotic almost...kinda..." you fumbled before a short, tense silence seemed to fall between the two of you while Illumi slowly blinked and hummed, watching you with his dark, owlish eyes. Finally, you changed the subject awkwardly. Your social ineptitude was so alluring to him, and so fun to aggravate like some sort of wound. Once the food was gone, he picked back up on the conversation, continuing to learn about you and flirt until it was time to pay and take you home. As the two of you walked down the street though, he decided to ask, "(y/n), would it be rude to ask why you don't seem to go outside a lot?" He did his best to phrase it gently, just in case it was a trauma response, listening to your explanation. If it was something to do with a dark part of your past, no matter for the assassin, he simply decided to end whoever hurt you or their loved ones, but if it was little more than you being an introverted, naturally skittish woman, he was ecstatic. If you were just not very social on your own, he had fewer things to avoid in terms of successfully wooing you, which was such a relief to him, plus, he could easily work on your social awkwardness, so that in itself wasn't even an issue. When the two of you reached your home, he kissed your cheek, "I hope you enjoyed your night," he hummed, doing his best to ensure he had his charm lacing each word, which came off as slightly suggestive but he was fine with that. "I did, so, um, maybe some other time...we could do this again?" you offered, attempting to match the flirtatious tone he had, making the assassin smile slightly despite the awkwardness of your attempt. "I'd enjoy that. It gives me a reason not to try cooking for myself," he pointed out, making you laugh slightly, "Glad I could be of help tonight than." With that, he took the chance and leaned down and kissed you pretty quickly, watching your (e/c) eyes widen for a moment before you became a flustered mess for the umpteenth time that night. You swiftly said good night and scurried into your home, leaving the tall man outside in the cool spring night. He stood there for a moment, debating whether or not he should sneak into your home again, but deciding not to. He instead headed back to his house and contemplated what to do for the next date.

#yandere illumi #x reader #yandere #Illumi x reader #Illumi zoldyck #fanfiction #quotev #part 7 #hxh #hunter x hunter

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florenceandthemachine · 4 years ago

Text

cutting down the family tree

@buckleydiazs said:

High school au where Buck’s the sad lonely kid with the shit family and Eddie’s the popular captain of the wrestling team who makes it his personal mission to make Buck an honorary Diaz and convince him that he deserves nice things I am just saying

WOW this got a lot longer than I thought, so I abandoned the ask and put everything all up in here. Only barely edited, SORRY LMAO.

8.5k, Buddie HS AU. underage-ish if you squint I guess? tw for abuse.

Buck was good at going unseen.

It was a defense mechanism—his parent’s couldn’t get upset with what they didn’t realize was there—and it had only amped up once Maddie graduated. Once she went off to college, Buck had no reason to be a distraction anymore, to try and pull attention off of anyone; so he just got better at it. He could pick things up and set them down without a sound. He constantly walked on the balls of his feet. He even kept his breathing even, slow and low, whenever he wasn’t alone.

At home, Buck had gotten really good at—nay, he had perfected—the art of becoming invisible. So it only made sense that it translated to his school life, as well.

He got good grades—straight A’s—but only high enough to keep his grades at a 4.0, not high enough to earn Valedictorian, no AP classes, no crying over tests. Enough to ensure he would have opportunities after high school, but not enough to bring any student or teacher attention his way.

He worked out every day, and had for years, years of defending himself or defending Maddie meant he had to be in the best shape he could be in—but while his body was packed with lean muscle and quick reflexes, he drowned himself in clothes that were a size too big, making him look smaller, unassuming. He kept his posture slouched whenever he wasn’t standing to take a few inches off of his height, to the point that he could get lost in a crowd while you were still looking at him.

He didn’t participate in after school activities. He didn’t run for school president. He didn’t have a flashy car, a high status girlfriend, he didn’t show any interests that might make him friends or enemies.

Buck was invisible to absolutely everyone.

Well... everyone except Eddie Diaz.

Eddie Diaz, who was a senior, like Buck was, but was new to Pennsylvania, moving over the summer — who was 18, a year older than Buck, because he was held back in the third grade for fighting — Eddie Diaz, who had joined the wrestling team and made captain in an embarrassingly short amount of time (well, embarrassing for the rest of the team).

Why did Buck know all of this?

Because this was also Eddie Diaz, who, on the first day of Senior Year, locked on to Buck with laser-like focus, ignored all of Buck’s defenses, and apparently decided to take him on as a new friend pet project.

And much to Buck’s annoyance, he just couldn’t. Shake. Eddie. Off.

He definitely tried. He changed his walkways, he changed the bathrooms he used, he changed where he parked, he did everything except change his schedule—and Eddie was still there, keeping up mostly one sided conversations. The only time he had to himself any more was his free period, the time he spent in the school weight room, and never before had be been so thankful for that regular moment of peace.

Buck finally hit his limit one lunch period, spent huddling in the library, when Eddie sat down across from him. "Eddie, isn’t there someone who actually wants to have lunch with you? Some of your friends, or teammates, or someone who isn’t me?” Buck had asked, barely looking up from the text book he had been reading—he wasn’t a fan of the ‘mean’ route, but he was at his wits end. When Eddie paused, Buck actually felt hope rise up in his chest, that he would be alone again.

But Eddie had just leaned forward, made eye contact, and said “Nope.” with the biggest, shit eating grin Buck had ever seen.

Fine. It was less than a year. Buck could handle Eddie being around him for less than a year.

Buck could not handle less than a year.

Because Eddie, Eddie was nice. To him. To Buck, who had never said more than ten words to any other student since the day he started high school. Eddie was nice to him, and it was going to kill him.

It was going to kill Buck because he found himself wanting to be nice back.

Not that Buck was a mean person, because he wasn’t, but niceness was followed by friendship, and friendship was followed by attachment, and that was simply unacceptable as far as Buck was concerned.

... not that he hadn’t wondered, of course. He had always wondered what it would be like, to be able to hang out with friends, to have people come over to his house for his birthday, to have more contacts in his cell phone than the front desk of the gym near his house, his parents, and Maddie.

He had wondered, sure, but he had never missed it. He had never craved it. He knew it was more important for him to be on his own, at least for the time being—an attachment would make it that much harder to get as far from the east coast as possible when time came for college, and that was unacceptable.

But...

As he pulled in the parking lot, to a familiar spot near the back of the school, and saw Eddie waiting there for him so they could walk in to class together...

Alright, so he wanted it. So sue him.

“Buckaroo!”

Well, that was a good way to make him want it a little less, at least.

“Eddie, I’ve told you,” Buck said with an exasperated sigh, locking his car behind him. “It’s just Buck.”

(Eddie had called him Evan once. Just once. Once the blind panic had subsided, Buck had put a stop to that, real quick.)

“And I’ve told you,” Eddie said in a sing-song voice, “it’s a nickname. Nicknames are what friends do, remember?”

“Your words, not mine.”

Friends. Is that what they were? He rolled his eyes and shouldered his bag instead of thinking about it too deeply, but he couldn’t deny the spike of anxiety that rippled through him as Eddie started to ramble, falling back into the easy habit of talking for the both of them. He didn’t want friends. He just wanted to get out.

“...and so I told him...”

Besides, it wasn’t like Eddie actually considered him a friend. They had barely spoken—well, Buck had barely spoken anyway. There was no way in hell that Eddie actually cared about him, right? He had to have some secondary motive.

"and after that, she...”

But that was frustrating in and of itself. Buck had been so sure that Eddie was up to something, or had some ulterior motive, or but damn it if Buck hadn’t been able to determine what it was. None of Eddie’s little douchebaggy wrestling friends had approached them, Eddie hadn’t even tried to get Buck out of his comfort zone yet, he hadn't done anything, and somehow, that was even more frustrating.

“...just because Ms. Syzmaski’s a wrinkled old bitch.”

Buck let out a laugh, in spite of himself, as Eddie rambled on, shaking his head. Ms. Syzmaski wasn’t that bad, and—oh.

He covered his mouth as soon as he realized what he had done. He didn’t think he had laughed at all since Maddie left, and to have one pulled out of him so suddenly was a little surprising, to say the least—but as he turned to Eddie, beet red, he could tell that he wasn’t the only one surprised.

The look that Eddie was giving him, however, was the closest thing to “starry eyed” that Buck had ever seen.

“I, uh, I have to get to class. Bye Eddie.” Buck blurted as he turned and booked it down the hall, not quiet quick enough to miss the smile and the incredibly soft “Bye, Buck” that followed him.

Things only got worse as more time went on.

Better?

No, worse. Definitely worse.

Because Eddie could make him laugh, and the more time he spent with him, and the more he actually listened, the more likely those moments were. He was nice, too nice, on the rare occasion that Buck actually had lunch in the lunch room instead of hiding in a stairwell or the library, Eddie said goodbye to his friends and joined him kind of nice. The kind of nice that worked its way past Buck’s defenses, instead of breaking them down.

The kind of nice that made Buck actually want to open up, which, as he would never forget, was a dangerous kind of nice.

It was also, as he learned too late, the kind of nice that made him fucking cave in way too easily to Eddie’s whining.

“Come on, Buck,” he had begged. “I’m going to be failing Chemistry if I don’t get a B on the midterm, and if I fail chemistry, I get booted from the team. You have to help me.”

And like a sap, Buck had sighed in agreement, giving up a Friday night doing nothing to help the intellectually infirm (“Hey!”).

Wincing as he touched up the concealer on his cheek, Buck dragged his backpack out of the passengers seat of his car, giving an appreciative look up to the small, ranch style house that spread out before him. It probably said a lot about his own expectations if he already felt more comfortable in front of a row of little ranch houses than he would in front of his own house, but… well, that was just it. His house was a big, gaudy house in a neighborhood full of big, gaudy houses. But everything about where he was now—the sound of a dog barking, the smell of someone cooking on the grill, the fact that you didn’t need to ask anyone to buzz you in to a front yard—screamed home.

He didn’t think anything could spoil how light he felt—and that was certainly proven true as Eddie opened the door before Buck even had a chance to knock.

“Hey Buck, thanks again, you… uh, wow. You look, uh, great.”

It was a small surprise, but a nice one. He had ditched his regular, baggy, hiding-in-plain-sight clothes for a simple pair of jeans and a polo shirt, casual but comfortable, and he tried to ignore the smile tugging at his lips even as his face heated up.

“I mean, it’s nothing special, it’s just jeans and a—“

“Eddie! Bring your friend inside and close the door!”

It didn’t matter how he had tried to prepare himself, there was something about a parent yelling that would probably always cause Buck to tense up, and tense up he did. If Eddie noticed, he didn’t say anything, thankfully, just hooked his elbow in Buck’ as he yelled right back. “His name is Buck, Mama, I told you that!”

He tried to get his heart to calm down as he felt Eddie tug him to the doorway, his free hand clinging to his backpack strap for dear life, bracing himself as he walked into…

…something that could not have been more polar opposite of his own life if it tried.

Eddie’s house was smaller, sure, but it was homey in a way that Buck had only imagined or seen in Hallmark movies. He was all smiles as Eddie introduced him to both of his parents (he knew how important first impressions were, had had that beaten in to him from a very young age), but he found that it wasn’t fake—he was genuinely glad to be there. Even if it still threw him for a loop when Eddie’s mother had insisted on being called Helena, had shoved a tray of snacks into Eddie’s arms, and sent them to Eddie’s room to study.

“Go on, we’ll let you know when dinner is ready. Get your studying done.”

“Thanks, Mama.”

“And leave the door open!”

“Mama!”

Buck was only mildly placated by the fact that Eddie was blushing as brightly as he was.

Any concerns that Eddie wouldn’t be taking this seriously, or was just looking for a reason to hang out and fuck around, were quickly put to rest as Eddie pulled out his chemistry book. It was comforting to know that Eddie was just as serious about his grades as he acted, and it made things a lot easier—when Buck didn’t have to spend half of his time telling Eddie to pay attention or to focus, as he had feared, things moved at a pace he hadn’t anticipated.

Eddie was incredibly smart. That much was obvious from the get go. Chemistry just didn’t click with him, but that was easy enough to rectify—he just had to help Eddie see things from a different angle, to focus more on the process than the end result, and “seriously Eddie, would it kill you to take a legible note for once in your life?”

Buck had set to work on transcribing some of Eddie’s rushed notes into a legible format while Eddie continued to work on a few practice problems, and before Buck knew it several hours had gone by and they were both being called down for dinner, and… look, Buck had a live in cook for most of his life, but damn if Helena’s enchiladas didn’t blow them out of the water.

He found himself drawn into the family dynamics easily—Eddie had introduced him to his sister, Sophia, explaining that Adriana was out for the night, and they talked, bickered, poked fun, everything that Buck had figured was out of his reach for the longest time. He spoke when he was asked questions, and let himself engage in a few conversations, but more than anything, he just sat and ate and soaked up the delicious atmosphere.

Was this what a family really felt like? He didn’t think he had ever felt like this at home, even before Maddie had graduated, even before his father had started drinking. He felt something white hot burn in his chest as the night dragged on—not jealousy, or envy, something more dangerous, want. It seemed like a cruel joke, that someone so close to him got to have it all, while he had… nothing, but as he looked over at Eddie, his head thrown back in laughter at one of his mothers jokes until Sophia flicked a piece of corn into his open mouth and he sputtered, he wouldn’t wish the reverse on even his worst enemy.

The good part about Pennsylvania was that it didn’t matter what time of the year it was, it was usually cold. Cold meant long sleeves and sweaters to cover the arms, and long pants to cover the legs, especially as the sticky feeling of Summer turned to foggy breaths and dew, and Buck could breathe a little easier.

Just a little easier, though, because when you were tugging your hoodie down over your head to cover a black eye, you couldn’t relax. Not really.

He was usually so careful. He was usually so good about covering his bruises (hell, he was usually good at getting bruises anywhere other than his face), but the last time he had touched himself up, he had forgotten to cap the concealer and the entire tube had run dry. He was sloppy. He had been reckless and stupid and sloppy and now he was paying the price; because as confident as he would have been a semester ago about getting through the day with a shiner and no one noticing, the day now included Eddie.

He didn’t know if he could avoid Eddie for an entire day. What was worse, he didn’t know if he wanted to.

The day had started off pretty well. He took the train to school instead of driving so Eddie wouldn’t see his car. He was barely on time to each and every class to avoid Eddie in the halls. He ignored every text that came in—though he did allow himself a grin when Eddie sent him a picture message of his Chemistry test, a big 91 circled on the front of it. He even managed to find a new place to eat his lunch, one he was sure that Eddie wouldn’t know about.

And then everything had gone to shit.

He had finished his History midterm early, turned it in with his head down, and walked out of the classroom. His next period was his free one, so he decided to head to the gym early, taking a quick stop in the locker room to change into a baggy, long sleeved shirt, chucking his hoodie and his backpack in a locker before getting to the gym. There was only one other person in the room, back turned to Buck as he walked in—it was as good as it could get, and he sent a silent prayer up to anyone who was listening in thanks.

It was going to be a cardio day, Buck could tell—his right wrist was a little sore, and his shoulder too, and while thankfully neither of them felt dislocated it definitely wouldn’t be a good idea to try to lift weights. He could feel the tension bleed out of his shoulders as he started to stretch out his hips and legs, nearly ignoring the telltale buzz he felt at the base of his skull until it was too late.

“Buck! There you are!”

Buck bolted upright at the same moment as a hand clapped onto his shoulder, squeezing in the friendly way Buck had become so accustomed to—but now, instead of a familiar warmth in his stomach, it sent a bolt of pain through his body. He sucked in a gasp and jerked his body away from the pain, fists halfway up as he turned around, his body sagging when he saw Eddie standing opposite to him.

Eddie, who he had been avoiding all day, who’s multiple messages he had left on read, who now looked like he was face to face with a ghost. If he could imagine how he looked right now, he might have laughed—black eye, slumped shoulder, pale, panicked face. It was probably hilarious, even if Eddie didn’t seem to think so.

“Buck?”

“Hey, Eddie.”

“Buck, what... what happened to you? Is this why you’ve been avoiding me all day?”

The biting comment was on the tip of Buck’s tongue, to tell Eddie to fuck off, to get lost, but Eddie sounded so small and scared he couldn’t bring himself to snap. Instead, he offered a weak smile, shrugging his good shoulder. “Nothing I can’t handle. You should see the other guy, right?”

It probably was in poor taste to go for a joke, and Eddie’s dark expression only confirmed that fact, but what was Buck supposed to say? ‘Hey, no worries, my mom broke a picture frame so it was either let her get the shit beat out of her or take the heat?’ Yeah, no.

Suddenly, his face was in Eddie’s hands, and oh wow that was nice, and he had to work to keep from sighing as Eddie’s fingers went feather light over his skin.

“Buck, this wasn’t just a little love tap.” Hah, no, there was no love in it at all. “You know, I could teach you how to block a few hits. Some self defense.”

Buck laughed, humorlessly, shaking his head. “No, that’s okay. Not a lot of good there, I don’t think.” he shrugged, shaking his head, even as Eddie opened his mouth to protest.

“But I can—”

“Stop. Don’t worry about it, seriously.”

“Buck, I am serious. I’m really worried about you, have been all day.”

Buck had to swallow at that, his heart sinking, and he looked down as he weighed his options. Neither were good. But if one kept Eddie from worrying...

“...fine. On one condition.” Buck said, his voice a little thick as he looked back up to Eddie, who... well, he looked like he would do anything Buck asked at that moment, and wasn’t that an interesting swarm of butterflies in his stomach?

“You stop asking about how I got them.”

Eddie’s face did a funny kind of flip flop, but eventually, he nodded. “Fine. First lesson starts now.”

Buck sighed again as he thumbed the hem of his shirt, debating for only a moment before he pulled it off. The tank top he was wearing beneath didn’t hide a whole lot, but he figured Eddie had already seen one bruise, and had promised not to ask about the rest, so he didn’t think much could come from getting rid of the heavy, hot garment.

What would come of it, apparently, was Eddie gaping at him, eyes nearly bugging out of his head. Buck felt a sense of shame pool in his stomach, ready to put the shirt back on in another second—he didn’t think the bruises were so bad, but maybe—

“Buck, you’re—you’re ripped.”

What?

“How are you not on the wrestling team with me? Or the lacrosse team, or football, or... something?”

Buck blinked for a moment before he felt blood rush to his face. Oh. Oh. Eddie wasn’t staring because he was disgusted, or horrified, but because he apparently... liked what he saw. From a sportsman perspective. That had to be it. Right. He cleared his throat, willing the pink to die down on his cheeks. “Eddie, are you gonna teach me or what?”

Eddie’s eyes snapped up, wide as dinner plates, voice an active higher as he spoke. “Right!” He cleared his throat, shaking his head as he stepped closer to Buck. “Okay, so, if someone is going to come at you from the front, if they try and throw a punch, you just move the outside of your arm to knock the arm back, and—good.”

Buck didn’t even wait for Eddie to finish speaking, as soon as the hand was up he batted it away with perhaps a bit more force than needed, a thoroughly unimpressed look on his face.

“Okay, but then you need to follow through with a hit when they’re open. See—”

Eddie moved to throw a punch again, slow and painfully obvious, and Buck followed his instructions, pushing it away, and then... not doing anything. Eddie scowled, raising his hand again, and just like before, Buck knocked it away with the inside of his fore arm, trying to focus on the best point to hit to knock the hand away.

“Buck, you have to follow through. Blocking is great but you have to use the opening to hit back.”

Punch- block. Punch- block. Punch- block. Eddie started picking up the tempo, moving around Buck,

“I’m not hitting back, Eddie.”

Yeah, right. Buck hit back, and he’d probably get beaten beyond recognition. Pass.

“I can see that, but you have to. If someone is going to try and hurt you, you have to strike whenever you’re open. One good hit and you can run like hell.”

Punch- block. Punch- block. Where exactly was he supposed to run to? The living room? The kitchen?

“No.”

Eddie gave a quicker shot—still weak, but Buck ducked, pushing the hand away from him. This was actually proving to be pretty useful.

“Look, I get not wanting to hit someone, but you just need to daze them if you’re going to get away.”

“Eddie, I don’t hit back. That’s now how this works.”

“Well why the fuck not—”

“Because it doesn’t fucking matter!” Buck yelled, his tone taking himself by surprise, as did the heat that suddenly burned through his face. “It doesn’t matter if I land a hit or not, it doesn’t matter if I get hurt, as long as he doesn’t hurt anyone else!”

“He?”

The words hung in the air, heavy and dark, and Buck almost swallowed his tongue when he realized what he had said.

“Buck, who did this to you?”

“I have to get to class.”

It was too much. Buck swallowed as he turned around, abandoning his belongings in the locker room as he fled through the gym doors. He didn’t have to run far—thankfully he had his phone and wallet with him, which meant he had a train ticket—and only when he managed to throw himself between the closing doors of the Thorndale line did he manage to breathe again.

He pulled his phone out when the train took off, shooting a quick message to Maddie, asking her to call him out for the rest of his day.

Then he turned off his phone, put his head in his hands, and started to cry.

When Buck came to school the next day, he had his concealer on, and as far as he was concerned, the day before had never happened. He parked in his regular area, locked the doors, and tried not to sigh too heavily when he saw Eddie waiting from him.

He didn’t have it in him for a fight, but Eddie had both his hands up, and that was enough to keep Buck from running again.

For now.

“Look, Buck, I won’t ask details, but.... just tell me, are you okay?” Eddie asked, his voice slow and unsure, and Buck felt a frown creeping over his face in spite of himself.

He tilted his head as he looked Eddie over, brow furrowed. “You really care about me.” A statement, not a question, but Eddie nodded all the same. “Why?”

If the question caught Eddie off guard, he didn’t show it. Instead, he looked away, seemingly chewing over his words as he tried to answer.

"Because you’re worth being cared about, Buck.”

Buck hummed as he considered the answer, acting like it didn’t just rock him to his very core, and sighed as he opened his arms and pulled Eddie into a hug—Eddie seemed surprised, but pleased, and Buck didn’t have to wait long before Eddie was hugging him back, so gently and mindful of Buck’s body that he thought he might start crying again.

“So, it’s not just these rugged good looks?” he mumbled into Eddie’s hair, and Eddie groaned, shaking his head.

“Buck, please.”

“My charming personality?”

“Buck, please.”

Somehow, nothing changed, and everything did.

Eddie didn’t bring up the bruises anymore, possibly because they weren’t visible anymore, but he held himself differently around Buck—instead of grand claps on the back, he tugged at Buck’s elbow, instead of a teasing elbow to the ribs, it was a playful shoulder bump—all, Buck knew, things that Eddie could do without risking aggravating an unseen injury.

Any doubt in his mind that Eddie knew what was going on was dashed almost immediately, when Eddie intentionally steered the conversation in their little friend group (which was mostly the wrestling team, who had decided beyond all reason that Buck was okay) away from family matters. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together, and Buck was sure it was at least a little obvious when you got to know him where the bruises came from, but that was why Buck had been so hesitant to get to know anyone in the first place.

What was new, though, was the hand holding. It started off as Buck being led around, but then Eddie never really let go of his hand. Buck didn’t mind it, even though he felt he should—he was more or less dying for any physical contact that didn’t hurt, an itch he didn’t even know he needed scratched until Eddie showed up. But it was still... weird.

It wasn’t until later on, as Thanksgiving break loomed around the corner, when Eddie let his hand trail over his shoulders while dropping a burrito and chips from the Qdoba off campus did Buck start connecting dots.

Eddie was always a touchy feely guy, and it had only increased as of late.

Eddie had blushed when Buck took off his shirt—and for good reasons, apparently.

And now, Eddie was treating him to lunch.

They were all fine things on their own, but once was an accident, twice a coincidence, and three times, a pattern.

He swallowed his bite of burrito—the perfect order, even though he was sure Eddie had only asked him what he liked once, weeks ago—and derailed whatever train of thought Eddie had going in one fell swoop.

“...but if you look at the—”

“Eddie, are we dating?”

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. A denial, maybe? Or another blush and topic change?

What he wasn’t expecting was for Eddie to nod his head, his smile a little wider, and then just continue on.

“Anyway, as I was saying—”

“No, hang on. We’re dating? This is like, a lunch date? You bought me lunch, because we’re on a lunch date?”

Eddie’s smile was so soft that Buck instantly felt at ease, even though he knew he was probably asking the dumbest questions of all time. “Yeah Buck, this is a lunch date. I didn’t want you to freak about it, but I knew you’d come to the conclusion eventually.”

Buck hummed as he reached over, stealing one of Eddie’s chips, chewing it thoughtfully before he rose his brow. “Well, this is a pretty nice first date, then.”

He tried not to be offended when Eddie snorted, raising his brow as he met the challenge.

“Buck, this is at least our second or third date. Our last date was me bringing you home to meet my parents.” Eddie said with a smirk, but Buck frowned, shaking his head.

“Wait, Eddie, that was forever ago. What was our first date then?” Buck asked, confusion written all over his face.

Eddie actually blushed—okay, Buck was officially never getting tired of seeing that—as he looked up, humming in a way that was probably meant to be nonchalant but definitely wasn’t. “Oh, uh, well I consider our first date to be the first lunch we had. Um, the one where I made the joke about Ms. Syzmaski’s wrinkly old ass?”

Buck was honestly lucky he had swallowed before Eddie spoke, because that would have been a spittake for sure. “What the fuck about that joke made you think of that as a date?”

Eddie was pink again and Buck had to physically bite his tongue not to goad him about it, but he was steadily getting redder as Buck waited. Finally, Eddie threw up his arms, sighing in defeat as he buried his head in his hands.

“It was... it was the first time I made you laugh, okay? That’s why it was so nice.”

Oh, that was cute. Fuck, that was so cute. Buck could actually feel his resolve start to give way, which was unacceptable on more than one level, and he took a breath as he steadied himself. “I’m not staying.”

Eddie look like he had been punched. “What?”

“I mean it. I’m not staying. As soon as I graduate I’m getting out of this state, hell, this time zone if I can.”

“Buck—“

“I mean it, Eddie, I can’t—can’t stay here. And I like, you, I really like you, but if you’re staying in state, you have to know that I won’t. Not for anything, so if that’s a dealbreaker for you, you should just…”

His lungs ran out of his air as he forgot to breathe, but it was probably for the best, Eddie taking the moment to jump in before Buck could continue freaking out. “Buck, what makes you think I’m staying?”

Buck swallowed, his thoughts completely derailed. “What? You just moved here, why would you be leaving again?”

“The only reason we’re here this year is for my dads work. He has a year long contract, then we’d probably be moving back to Texas, but even then, who knows? No offense, but I have zero urge to stay in this snooty, Ivy-League bullshit state.”

Buck spoke slowly as his brain tried to catch up with what Eddie had said, brow wrinkling in a way that Eddie was definitely going to remember to call cute later on. “So… you’re not planning on staying. And you don’t care if I leave either.”

“No, Jesus. All I want is for you to be happy.”

It probably said a lot about how much that simple statement shocked him, but at this point in his life, he wasn’t sure anything would sit as “normal” for a long time.

“Oh. Well, then, care to explain how we’ve apparently gone on three dates and you haven’t kissed me yet?”

Eddie lit up like a Christmas tree as he scooted forward on the bench, his eyes bright. “Are you sure you’re okay with it? I didn’t want to scare you off or anything—“

“Eddie, if you don’t kiss me right now, I swear I’ll—“

He didn’t get to finish his threat—which was mildly annoying—but the warm pressure of Eddie’s lips against his own drowned out any other objection he thought he may have.

He was almost late to class, his lips bruised in a way he absolutely loved, and he regretted absolutely nothing.

The day before they were due back in school from Winter Break, Buck had been planning on spending the entire day in bed, recuperating from the incessant display of familial togetherness that the holidays usually had brought. Eddie had been his one saving grace—near constant phone calls, texts, and snapchats had been the only thing keeping Buck’s temper low enough to avoid a few new bruises.

And, if the sight of Eddie wearing the simple leather corded necklace that Buck had gotten him for Christmas made his heart beat a little faster whenever he saw it, that was between him and God.

The past three months had been… alarmingly good, if Buck was being honest. If his home life had taught him anything, it was that the other shoe always dropped—so as much as he loved spending time with Eddie, as much as he loved their kisses, and rare dates, and holding hands in the hallway, as much as he honestly, truly thought he could see a life beyond high school with him, he was constantly, constantly waiting for that other shoe to drop.

Which was why, when Eddie called him at one o’clock on a Sunday, Buck let it ring a few times before he gathered himself to answer the phone.

“Hey, are you busy tonight? I want you to come over and meet everyone.”

“What do you mean, meet everyone? I’m pretty sure all of your family knows me by now.” That much was definitely true—Buck had been spending more time at Eddies than his own whenever he could help it, and while there was always someone out on an errand or at work or doing something else, he had participated in enough dinners, family calls, and video chats that he knew more of Eddie’s family than he did his own. “What, you have another set of siblings you’re hiding away from me?”

Eddie’s resounding laugh was a little too loud, a little too tense, just enough to spike Buck’s curiosity without making him fear the worst. He agreed easily after that, asking if he needed to bring anything, and made plans for a few hours later.

When he pulled up to Eddie’s house, though, it was almost unrecognizable. There were streamers tossed through the tree in the front yard, balloons tied to nearly every horizontal surface Eddie could see, and there were enough cars parked out front that Buck had to squeeze in behind a truck and a fire hydrant (and hope that he wouldn’t get a ticket).

As usual, Eddie met him at the door (Buck had teased him once about waiting by the window, and when Eddie blushed and didn’t deny it, Buck had gone in to full hysterical laughter), the obvious nerves he was displaying not enough to dissuade Buck from punching him in the shoulder. “Eddie, what the fuck! Is this a party? You told me not to bring anything, I could have—“

“Oh whatever, I’ll sign your name on my card, calm down.” Eddie said, like he wasn’t the bundle of nerves himself, leaning forward to press a kiss to Buck’s lips (which he accepted, of course, he wasn’t a monster even if he was annoyed). He easily succumbed to the whirlwind of introductions—aunties and uncles and people who were clearly of the Diaz family, and damn, Eddie wasn’t kidding when he told Buck he wanted him to meet everyone. Eddie’s nerves started to hitch back up as they made their way to the backyard, and Buck was about to call him out on whatever it was that was going on when Eddie beat him to the punch.

“Alright, you ready to meet the man of the hour?”

“Only if you’re ready for me to.” Buck said with a hum, smiling as Eddie’s face did some impressive expressive gymnastics. “Eddie, you’re wound like a damn spring. If you don’t want me to meet this person, or any of these people, I don’t want you to feel like you have to. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, yeah?” He said, bringing his other hand up to link with Eddie’s as well.

Eddie, to his credit, looked like the weight of the world had been lifted off of his chest, and he beamed as he leaned in to kiss Buck agin. “God, you’re perfect. Have I ever told you that? Well, probably not enough, but it will have to wait, because…” Eddie pushed through the back door and towed Buck along with him, where a circle of chairs were set up around a table stacked high with drinks, snacks, party games, and in the middle of it all—

“…because here’s the birthday boy!”

—was a high chair, fully equipped with a tray table, a soppy cup, and a baby.

A baby.

Buck felt every nerve, every tense minute, every rational thought melt in his body and turn into a warm puddle of goo at the very core of his soul, and his face must have reflected that fact because Buck was vaguely aware of two of Eddie’s sisters laughing at him, but who cared there was a baby and it was the most adorable, pudgy, perfect baby Buck had ever seen.

The baby quickly let out a high pitched squeal as his attention landed on Eddie, smacking his hands against the table in front of him, and Buck could not be held accountable for the noise that he made when Eddie swooped forward and undid the tray, pulling him out of the high chair easily, tucking him into an arm like he was a seasoned pro.

“Buck, this is Chris.”

And now Eddie was walking toward him with the baby, the baby who’s name was Chris, and Buck only waited for the barest hint of a confirmation from Eddie before he moved closer, cooing toward the excited little bean in Eddie’s arms.

“Today is Chris’ first birthday.”

Which, that made sense, he was still so small and pudgy but still so energetic, and Buck nodded along with the rapid fire babbling as he squeezed Chris’ little foot playfully, feeling more proud of anything at the peal of laughter Chris let out at that.

“Chris is my son.”

Well, that made sense, Chris had the same complexion as Buck did, and he was just as quick to smile, and even though his hair was lighter in color it was still thick and wavy, and—

Wait.

His brain caught up with his ears and yanked him out of his baby haze as he looked back up to Eddie, and oh, yeah, there was that nervousness that Buck had felt radiating off of him all afternoon. It seemed to echo around the yard, where there was conversation and laughter just a moment ago, everyone seemed quieter now, hushed, or maybe that was just the rushing in Buck’s ears. Things started fitting into place as Buck thought about it—how he had met all of Eddie’s immediate family, but not at the same time, probably because someone had probably taken Chris out whenever Buck came over. How Eddie so obviously loved his family, but still got a little awkward talking about them at times. Why Eddie had only rarely badgered him about going out after school, because he was spending most of the time himself with his son.

“This is your baby.”

“Yes.”

Oh.

“You’re his father.”

“Yeah.”

Oh.

“Eddie, he’s beautiful.”

Eddie sagged like a puppet with its strings cut, the tension bleeding out of his body, and the smile he shot to Buck was more open and honest than he had ever seen before. He could feel a collective sigh breathed around him as the voices picked back up, apparently approving of Buck’s reaction. “He really is, isn’t he? When he was born last year, his mom wanted to give him up, but… I couldn’t even imagine that. My parents stepped up and really helped me out, we took him home, and it was just… perfect. Like it was meant to be.”

Buck looked up with a smile as Eddie spoke, utterly entrapped in how soft he looked as he held his son, his voice low and slow as to not startle the curious kid safe in his arms. “When my dad took a contract up here, I thought it would be the perfect chance to start over, you know? I wouldn’t give Chris up for anything, but I could tell teachers were going easier on me, boosting my grades, and I didn’t know if it was pity or… whatever. This was the chance for me to prove I could do it. You, uh, you’re the only one outside of my family who even knows.” Eddie said, and Buck had to physically bite his tongue to prevent himself from gushing.

“He’s perfect, Eds. You’re perfect. I’m… I’m really honored you told me.” Buck said easily, leaning forward for another kiss, mindful of the giggling body between them. “But if you think I’m going to let you forget that you told me not to bring anything to your baby sons first birthday, you have another thing coming, I can’t believe you didn’t let me get a gift or something—no, seriously!“

Eddie let out a groan as he leaned forward into Buck’s bickering, the sudden lull in the party long since forgotten as the night carried on.

The other shoe always dropped, though, and Buck 100% blamed himself for not seeing it coming. Hell, he 100% blamed himself for letting it happen. He had become complacent, he had let his guard down, Eddie had wormed his way into Buck’s heart and showed him how good things could be, and Buck had dared to believe him.

Buck had had hope, as stupid as it was, and now, here he was, standing at Eddie’s door, knocking at the wooden frame, begging, pleading for him to open the door—he didn’t realize how much he loved Eddie always meeting him at the threshold until it didn’t happen, until he wasn’t sure if Eddie was going to open the door at all, until he didn’t know what else he could do.

As it was, Eddie wasn’t the one who opened the door. It was Helena, who he had just spent the day with, and the sound she had made when Buck came into view was unholy.

The day had started off so well, too—Eddie and Buck had both been accepted to Texas A&M (while Buck’s pre-acceptance letter had come almost a month ago, he still waited until Eddie received his to even open the envelope), and Eddie’s parents had been so thrilled with him—with both of them—that they had insisted on treating everyone to breakfast before cheering Eddie on at what was likely the last wrestling match of the season (because as great as Eddie was, the team as a whole sucked).

Helena had forced him into a “Team Diaz” shirt, and Buck looked at himself probably a little too long in the mirror, tracing the name over his chest—if anyone noticed, no one said anything, though the smile on Helena’s face told Buck all he needed to know. Eddie, on the other hand, had absolutely lit up when he saw them all in the stands, his gaze lingering a little too long on the word Diaz splayed across Buck’s chest, and the look he gave Buck when they locked eyes again was nothing short of sinful (Buck was glad that he had been put on Chris duty—holding a baby was probably the only way he was able to distract himself from the sight of Eddie in spandex).

So, it didn’t come to a huge surprise when Helena opened the door and let out a sound that would have pushed him over the edge, had Buck not already been crying.

Well… halfway crying. He was only really tearing up in one eye, the other was too swollen to do anything more than squint.

His front was covered in blood, the “Team Diaz” stained red, his lip split and swollen and his cheek covered in bruises. It was probably for the best that his left eye was swollen shut, because blood was leaking around it from a split in his eyebrow, so he probably wouldn’t have been able to see anyway. Beyond the lip and the eye, though, the biggest concern was his nose—he didn’t think it was broken, but it was still sluggishly bleeding, and it just wouldn’t stop.

Helena pulled him into the house and immediately started barking orders (“Adriana, bring Christopher to the nursery and put him in his playpen. Sophia, tell Edmundo to get home right now, his Buck has been hurt. Ramon, give me the first aid kit.”), steering Buck easily to the back yard as the rest of the family scurried around.

By the time Eddie got home, Buck had been mostly cleaned up—or, at least, his nose had stopped bleeding long enough to mop up most of the blood on his face, and Helena had taped the gash on his brow closed with butterfly bandages, and had a cold compress pressed against his face. Eddie looked wild, his eyes wide and face unforgiving as he kneeled next to Buck, and if Buck had any tears left in his body he probably would have started crying again as Eddie cupped the uninjured side of his face.

Buck knew that Eddie was trying to find words, but he also knew there were a hundred wrong things to say at that moment, so he took the step for both of them.

“My dad found out about us.” There was no sense in sugar coating it, no sense in leaving the bandaid on too long, he just had to rip it off so they could move on. “Apparently he didn’t much like the idea of his son not carrying on the family name, he… didn’t take it well.”

Eddie let out a sound that could only be described as someone breaking, and Buck blindly reached for his hand, feeling something burn through his chest, deciding then and there that he wouldn’t let another ounce of his father hurt Eddie the way it had hurt him. “But you were right. One block, one hit, all I needed to get away.” His tone had soured into something dark and sticky, good eye burning as he remembered Eddie’s little self defense lesson, all those months ago. He could tell the moment that Eddie’s mind reached the same conclusion, and he scrambled to look at Buck’s hands—there were some bruising around his right knuckles, but that was it.

One punch, that was all he needed.

One punch, and just like that, he had left everything behind—his phone, his car, his father bleeding from what Buck could only hope was a broken nose, coughing and sputtering on the entryway floor. The only thing he had on him was his wallet and his hoodie, and even the latter was tossed into the trashcan as he got off the train, too thoroughly wet with blood to be of any good at keeping him warm.

Instinctively, he had gotten off the train and trusted his feet to take him somewhere he knew he would be safe. He had finally realized that that place would never be with his family, would never be his house. His house would never be his home.

“Eddie…” Buck started, his voice thick with emotion. “Eddie, I… I don’t want to go back. I never want to see them, ever again. I’ll call up Maddie, I’ll… I’ll do something, but I can’t go back there, ever.”

Eddie looked like his heart was breaking; but before he could open his mouth and tell Buck off for considering going anywhere else, Helena spoke again.

“You will do no such thing.”

Her voice soft but hard as steel, leaving no room for argument, and Buck looked at her with pleading eyes (well, eye) as she shook her head.

“You will not be going back there. I have half a mind to drive over there right now and—no. I will do everything I can to make sure you never have to see them again.”

Buck could feel himself sag in relief, a breath he didn’t know he had been holding coming out ragged and raw, even as Helena continued.

“And Buck, I don’t know Maddie, and I’m sure she would be happy to help you out however she could, but. I would never let another Diaz out onto the street. Never in my life.” She said, and Buck had to swallow when he realized who she was talking about.

They considered him a Diaz?

“So if you would really be happier, or safer, we can get in the car and I’ll bring you to your sister tonight, but it’s just a few months until you and Edmundo leave for college anyway, and—“

“Please stay. Please. God, Buck, please, at least stay with us until you heal up a little. Please.” Eddie had apparently had enough of his mothers talking in circles, his voice shaking as he spoke, and Buck’s shock must have shown on his face because Eddie looked like he was going to start crying again.

They really considered him a Diaz.

He wanted to question it, to object, to do anything to prevent himself from being in their hair, but just like it was the first time they had lunch together, Eddie had worked his way too far past Buck’s defenses, and apparently, he had brought his whole family with him.

Buck barely had to nod before Eddie had him wrapped up in his arms, tight, and Buck returned the favor easily, seamlessly, his head buried in Eddie’s neck like he belonged there.

The thought resonated as Helena went back inside, letting the two of them have their moment; though, just a moment, announcing that it would be a lovely night to have dinner outside on the patio. It bounced around his head as Eddie kissed his cheek when they passed each other with plates and glasses, setting the table beneath the string lights in the yard, the spot on his cheek tingling long after the contact had broken. It took root when Buck found himself laughing, sitting easier in his own skin than he had ever done before as Eddie tried to justify whatever foolish thing he had done in Ramon’s story, failing miserably, his hand laced tightly with Buck’s beneath the table.

Maybe this was where he belonged.

For the first time in years, Buck saw something that was worth holding on for, that was worth keeping and protecting and letting grow.

For the first time, he had hope.

#evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #911 #buddiefic #911fic #highschool au #christopher diaz #tw: abuse #flospeaks #8k #fic #god this got long #I don't know if I like it but I needed it to be out of my brain so #there you go #mutually assured devotion

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kinetic-elaboration · 3 years ago

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September 12: The Vast of Night

Just finished watching The Vast of Night. It was good but I do feel like it lost me a little at about the 2/3 mark, and so right now I’m more stuck in the ways it was frustrating.

The stuff I liked:

It was very atmospheric and had exactly the kind of vibes I was looking for: 1950s desert night. Just like it says on the tin. I also like the two main characters a lot. They could have been annoying but the actors made it work. I liked that it was a little ambiguous how well they knew each other or what their friendship quite was. They were sorta like surrogate brother/sister but they could have just as easily been, like, acquaintances in a small town where everyone knows each other who just happen to get into this weird thing on this one night.

I also really liked the depiction of the town, and how much effort was put into making it feel real: the familiarity of everyone with each other, the shots that specifically established how close/far everything was from everything else. I liked that it felt like a radio show a lot--right down to the screen going completely blank sometimes and just having voices talking.

And I enjoyed the immersion if it basically being real time and real place. Like it probably was about 90 minutes in universe, and any time anyone moves from place to place, we tend to follow them. The only jump cuts were when the action was taking place in two spots simultaneously and we were cutting between them. So it felt real and, I mean this in a good way, small. Contained.

I was basically completely on board until the point where the old woman told her story. When she talked about her son being like an alien radio I was like “...okay this isn’t what I was expecting.” Not in a good way. It felt like a whole new type of alien story was being introduced and QUITE late in the game. Now it’s not just ships talking to each other inscrutably or even vague stories about what the military might know, it’s like... alien languages and abductions and like specifics on a whole new level. There’s even a theory (a dumb theory!) about what the aliens might want!

I wish I had a way to say this succinctly, because I was rambling through it with my mom right after we finished watching but basically... the movie appears to be very self-contained and simple--not in a bad way, but in the sense of, this is a one-night-story, everything you need is going to be in these 90 minutes, it’s not an epic, it’s not a mystery, etc. And so my expectation is that it will be economical. There will be no wasted details. Everything we see and hear will be important, every clue will be picked up and explained by the end, and every string will be tied. I really ENJOY stories like that; I find them immensely satisfying, in part because they are by nature very well constructed. It all comes together in the end.

But then it didn’t really, in this case. I don’t necessarily mean that mysteries weren’t answered. I wasn’t expecting resolution in that sense. I wasn’t expecting to know everything about the aliens--in fact, I was expecting to know less than we did--but I was expecting the narrative of the movie itself to resolve. I’m not explaining myself well, I know.

For example, the biggest and most annoying example, there’s a big deal made out of the basketball game tapes being recorded over and reused, and when Faye and Everett take the tapes from the library to find Billy’s friend’s recording, they mention the possibility it was recorded over again. So one would expect this would have meaning??? And yet nothing?? So why? It’s not that the conversation was unpleasant or annoying but I was expecting an ah-ha moment from it and then didn’t get it.

The squirrel or other animal biting through the wire also came up a lot and I didn’t see the point of that. I mean it established the town, right, and that’s fun, but it seemed like it should be more meaningful than that. I thought it might pertain to like the way that stories get retold and distorted but...idk it seemed to just be local color I guess?

Then there was stuff that I thought might be actually important but it’s just that I wasn’t getting it. Like for example, it seems like it should be/might have been important that Faye has no father but a very young sister, especially given that she has the sister with her for a lot of the last part of the film, and putting it in the context of the time period, and the old woman’s story about having a child while unmarried/being a single mother herself. I thought it might be something pertaining to a theme of the dangers of being othered in a (small) community. Like, the aliens pick out people who are alone at times when everyone else gathers together (like at the game, though what the actual evidence is for this I don’t entirely know) and we get lots of references to this, as well as references to the size of the town and of course plenty of evidence about how everyone knows everyone else. There’s the reference to the Indian basketball players as well, and it’s very relevant that Billy, a voice only hear over the radio, is Black. There’s also that bit where Everett gets them away from talking to the man at the game because he’s too much of a loner and not to be spoken to.

That said, Faye doesn’t exactly seem to be ostracized. And though she talks about walking everywhere because she doesn’t have a car, and not having enough money for college, a lot of other people seem to be working too, so it’s not, like, weird of her.

So I don’t know. If the movie had been what I expected/wanted it to be, I would not have to work so hard for the theme or for the relevance of certain details. And again, the movie is so short and so self-contained and so simple in terms of its basic plot, and so focused in terms of characters, time, and place, that it really doesn’t have an excuse for extraneous details. It’s not a sweeping epic, you know? I don’t want the things I learn about these people to seem random. Why learn that Faye has a mother and sister and no father and not anything about Everett’s family? Because it didn’t chance to come up? This isn’t real life, it’s a narrative!! No excuses!

The other thing is that the movie is clearly basing itself in the tradition of the The Twilight Zone, and that show was defined by its twists. So I was FULLY expecting a twist. Something about the Cold War? Something about the nature or origin or intention of the aliens? Something about the various technological “news” Faye was reciting at the beginning? I mean I would have been happy with a basic/classic twist even tbqh.

But no... it’s just an abduction story I guess. The MOST boring of alien stories.

I would have liked if they’d gone more into the alien ship noises specifically, the intercepted conversations, the accidental (ish) conversation that comes from humans replaying the recordings...

I don’t know. I like the concept of aliens as inscrutable and probably benevolent, just like existing in little bits and pieces for us to wonder about. Unknowable. I like that much more than aliens picking people up into their giant flying saucers. Just a personal preference.

In some ways, it felt like it became a completely different movie in the last third. A lot of new ideas were introduced, like the alien language (versus ship’s sounds), the abductions, the alien trance state thing, and that’s in a movie that until then had been more about a slow, creeping dread. A movie that was never afraid to take its time. Then it starts throwing in new ideas all over the place? And dropping old ones? I almost wonder if the director was bullied into major edits or re-shoots or something, like if someone said ‘you know this is too boring, this lacks resolution, this isn’t flashy enough.’ Maybe that’s just what I want to believe. I’m basing it only on the text and not on any extra knowledge, of which I have none. It just felt weird that a movie that was so good and so controlled in the beginning started making what I think of as amateur hour mistakes later on.

All that said, I did really enjoy it! I’m glad I watched it and I would watch it again.

#the year 2021 #2021: fandom thoughts

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jingabitch · 5 years ago

Note

Okay so I wasn't gonna send an ask again so soon but I saw that you might have said that requests were open? I don't mind waiting for your awesome writing, but could we please have something about the boys and reader years later, maybe with kids, like a daily life sort of scene? Please~ - Anon™

Hello!! I’m sorry it took so long for me to get to this, but I hope you enjoy it! It’s been a hot minute since I wrote something for this verse, and this might not be the best work in the series, but it was really fun getting back into this AU!

Word count: 2.3k

Series index

Looking at the scene before you, you wonder if you’ve ever felt such contentment in your life. If anyone has ever been as warm and bathed in love as you are at this moment. Sitting on the steps of your back porch between Yoongi and Seokjin, watching your children play in the backyard with Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok, your heart is so full of joy that it could burst.

Sighing, you rest your head on Yoongi’s shoulder, and he drops his down on top of yours. Your other hand, the one with your rings on it, reaches over to take Jin’s, and you lace your fingers with his.

Jin looks away from the antics of your children and their fathers to smile at you when he feels you take his hand, and raises it to press a soft kiss to your ring finger, right over your rings. There’s your engagement ring, a cushion-cut solitaire diamond so clear and colourless you’re sure it must have cost a fortune, and over that, your wedding ring, a simple platinum band. The boys had complained about not being able to spend enough on your rings, especially since the seven of them had shared the cost, but you hadn’t wanted anything too flashy, so they’d instead poured their effort into finding you the prettiest, best quality diamond that was a size you didn’t think was too tacky.

Really, you think, you hardly ever go out, and you definitely don’t have anyone else to show the rings to like in the movies, so what’s the point? Needless to say, though, the boys didn’t see it your way.

Your son and daughter shriek in joy, redirecting all your attention back to them. Taehyung is tossing your baby girl Ha-neul up into the air and catching her, while Hoseok dangles your son Yong-sun upside down. You laugh helplessly along at their antics, before melting into a helpless puddle as Taehyung catches Ha-neul, smothers her face in kisses, then puts her back on the ground where she toddles over to you.

“Mama!” she screams excitedly, her arms open wide for you to catch her. Just as she’s about to reach you, she trips over a stone and almost falls, but with your instincts honed by years of parenthood, you leap up and catch her right before she hits the ground. You put her on your hip and she cuddles close.

Yong-sun, seeing his baby sister getting affection from you, immediately comes over for his share. At five, he’s getting a little too big for you to carry him, but he clutches the hem of your shirt anyway, and you hug him as best you can, with one hand on his back as the other supports Ha-neul.

Taehyung immediately comes over and hoists the boy up onto his shoulders, grinning his boxy grin at you as he does so. You roll your eyes teasingly at him, but there’s no heat behind it – he knows you love how good he is with the kids. Although their birth certificates list Yoongi as their father, Taehyung is undoubtedly the most involved of the boys. That’s not to say that any of them are neglectful by any means; it’s just that Tae is incandescently happy about finally having children in the house and is almost overzealous in his enthusiasm.

“Mama, need t’ pee,” Ha-neul whines, and you immediately head back into the house. At two-and-a-half, potty training is new to her, and you make sure to shower her with praises for remembering to let you know that she needed to go. The others trail behind you as you take her to the bathroom, holding onto her as she sits on the toilet so she won’t fall in. When she’s done, you help her clean up and wash her hands, before sending her back to her doting fathers.

As you wash your own hands, you shake your head fondly as you hear Jimin and Taehyung loudly and enthusiastically praising Ha-neul. Really, she’s the most spoiled baby girl in all of existence, with not one, but seven fathers wrapped around her little finger.

Figuring that they’re fine looking after the kids, you head upstairs to the studios to look for your other two husbands. You find Namjoon in his studio, poring over some paperwork, and you sigh as you enter. Even though the boys are technically on hiatus, the behind-the-scenes work never stops for him, especially since the boys decided to become an independent label. Namjoon, more than being the group leader now, is the CEO of the company, and you know it’s tiring for him.

“Joonie…” you greet him, coming up behind him and draping your arms over his shoulders, resting your chin on his head.

“Hey,” he says simply as he reaches up to tangle the fingers of his left hand with yours, stroking your rings gently. All of the boys seem to enjoy touching the rings, and you suppose it’s probably to be expected. After all, they symbolize the irrevocability of their possession over you. All of them wear their wedding rings too, but because the public doesn’t know they’re married, they also wear lots of other rings on their other fingers so that people won’t speculate.

Except, of course, for Yoongi, your legal husband, who’s stopped wearing other rings altogether, but that’s a whole different issue.

You press a kiss to the top of his head. “Do you want to take a break, baby?”

He sighs. “I can’t, there’s a few things left for me to do…” But you can tell that he’s tempted from the way his thumb is stroking the sensitive pulse point on your inner wrist.

Because you’re a little shit, and because you know he’s been cooped up in here all day while the others played with the kids outside, you shuffle around and plonk yourself in his lap. He grunts and looks slightly irritated, but you know it’s all for show now. Besides, he leans back slightly and hauls you into a more secure position, so you know he’s not upset.

Curling into his chest, you continue wheedling him. “Please, Joonie, come take a break. It’s not healthy for you to keep working all the time. You’re having a break, remember?” You lean your head against him in just the way you know has him melting, then whip out your ace because it looks like despite it all, he isn’t budging. “The kids miss you, Joon-oppa.”

Sneaking a peek at his face through your lashes, you rejoice internally at what you see. He’s just a second away from caving in. You’d never quite gotten him as whipped for you as some of the others, but that doesn’t matter because he’s absolutely gone for his children. Really, just a mention of them and he’s falling all over himself.

“All right, fine,” he capitulates with a gusty sigh, and you squeal in excitement, wriggling in his lap.

He growls and holds you still, his big hands rough on your hips. “Save that for tonight, baby,” he says in a low voice that sends a jolt of lust coursing through you. From the smirk on his face, he knows exactly what he just did, and you’d be more annoyed at his smugness if you weren’t so turned on by him.

“Tonight, then,” you say, the words lingering in the air like a promise as you leave his studio, knowing he’ll go downstairs and play with the kids for a little while. You know that it bothers him that he can’t spend as much time with the kids as he’d like, but he needs to work for all of them. The kids will understand when they grow up. Besides, you often chase them into his studio when you think he’s spent too long cooped up in there, and although he’ll never say it, he loves it when Ha-neul crawls into his lap and falls asleep, and when Yong-sun ducks under his desk to play at his Daddy Joonie’s feet.

Having successfully gotten Namjoon out of the studio, you go to Jeongguk’s. You knock, but he doesn’t respond although you can hear that he’s inside, so you open the door to peek in. What you find inside makes your heart melt. Jeonnguk didn’t hear you because his headphones are on, and he’s editing some video footage of the children. You just stand there watching him for a moment, smiling tenderly. The videos that he’s taken to making of the children will never be released, because all of you decided that they would not be exposed to the public, but he makes them anyway, insisting that they’re a good way to preserve precious memories.

Looking back at the videos from when the kids were still babies, you have to agree.

You remember how apprehensive about having kids he was at first, not wanting to give up his position as the baby of the group, but he’s truly grown into his role as a father, and you’re so proud of him. He’s the one the children go to when they want to get up to some mischief, because he’s incapable of saying no to them, but he always makes sure they don’t get hurt. He’d even gotten tattoos for his children when they were born, a little dragon wrapped around his wrist for Yong-sun, and a cloud on the inside of his palm for Ha-neul, where he’d touched her first.

Jeongguk takes his headphones off and leaves them hanging around his neck, turning to regard you with a crooked smile. “Are you just going to stand there, noona?”

You snicker at him – after ten years together, you’d think he’d have dropped the honorifics by now, but it seems old habits die hard. You push off the door frame where you were leaning and go to him, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “I’m proud of you, you know?” you tell him tenderly, and even though he scoffs and says, “Of course you are,” you can tell from the way his eyes soften that he’s truly pleased you feel that way.

He tries to pull you into his lap, but you tear yourself away from him with a giggle. “Tonight,” you remind him, your finger on his pouting lips to prevent any protests. He nods, but doesn’t look happy as you leave him to his video editing, closing the door after you.

Today is a special day for all of you, which is why excitement coils in your belly as you put the kids to sleep. They have an early bedtime – it’s barely past eight when they both nod off – and as you emerge from Ha-neul’s room and see Jimin leaving Yong-sun’s, across the hall, the two of you grin at each other excitedly. All of you take turns with the kids at bedtime, but Jimin, more than anyone else, loves bedtime, loves the sleepy cuddles and the storytelling and the lullabies. He truly dotes on the children, and it’s such a lovely thing to see.

You grin at him as you take his hand, knowing that he’s still buzzing from Yong-sun’s bedtime. The two of you head to the giant bedroom all of you share that takes up basically the entire top floor of the house, getting ready for dinner. You rarely, if ever, leave the house, and tonight is no exception, but since it’s a special occasion, Jin is cooking up a storm downstairs and all of you were dressing up.

You open the box that Hoseok left on the bed with your name on a sticky note, finding a beautiful gown folded up inside. Pushing the tissue out of the way, you lift the dress out, a gorgeous Oscar de la Renta number with a strapless bodice and a full, fluffy skirt with an asymmetrical hemline. The dress is white, with embellishments on the skirt reminiscent of blooming gardens, and you know it must have cost a fortune. Giggling in excitement, you change into it, Jimin helpfully doing up the zip for you without you even needing to ask as he presses a kiss to the back of your neck.

Despite the gorgeous dress, you’re barefoot and have minimal makeup on – the former because Taehyung likes you best that way; the latter because it’s already past eight and you’re hungry.

Grinning at you, Jimin grabs your hand and almost drags you downstairs, where the others are already waiting. All of them snap to attention as you descend the stairs, and Yoongi comes to stand at the foot of the stairs to offer you his hand, which you take with a girlish giggle. Another benefit of not wearing shoes is that it allows Yoongi to stand a little taller next to you, something he loves, if the way he puffs his chest out is any indication.

“Happy anniversary, love,” he says, drawing you in for a kiss as his other hand comes to rest on your hip.

“Happy anniversary,” you repeat back to him when the two of you break the kiss, your eyes shining up at him. Tonight isn’t your wedding anniversary – no, it’s far more significant than that. It’s ten years to the day since he saved you, and all of them came into your life. As he leads you to the dining area where the rest of the boys are clustered, you find yourself starting to tear up, the emotion too much for you. You don’t know what would have become of you if the boys hadn’t taken you in, but you know you wouldn’t have been this happy. As they take turns showering you with love and affection, you bask in the knowledge that finally, finally, you’ve found your happy ending.

In this house, with your children upstairs, you don’t think you’ll ever need anything else. And that’s a good thing, because they wouldn’t let you leave anyway.

#yandere bts #bts yandere #request fic #fucked up #ot7 x reader #ot7 fic #bts #bts yandere au #min yoongi #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #park jimin #jeon jungkook #bts idol au #bts imagines #bts scenarios

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dreamhimcloser · 5 years ago

Text

Aeon - JiKook

Word Count: 9.5k words Rating: PG-13 Summary: The Rat was the first in Buddha’s race, which by timeless standards should mean that your family will be much more looked up to than they actually are. It's a damn race after all, the winner gets the chicken dinner, right? Wrong. Genre: Fluff-ish? Also, Seokjin is a diva Note: I’m not really back from Hiatus, that’s important to say. The exchange was fucking amazing and I need time to find myself at home again, but this thing has been sitting on my computer for a year now and I felt inspired, so I gave it life. The ending is not really edited because I cringed at myself. It’s been in my head for a while, hope you guys will like it♥

Your frustration with the day began right in the entrance to your university. You could already feel the signs of the power struggle in the air, along with the countless oblivious students walking right through it as they go about their day. You didn't know if you were lucky for being aware, feeling the signs and treading your steps. Those who belonged to the cycle of the Zodiac were pretty rare, and you were in the bottom of that food chain.

As the ancient story goes, Buddha wanted to hold a race for his departure from Earth. It's ridiculous that this is the beginning of the biggest pain in your life in the present. He invited 12 animals to compete in said race, and they were given one year in the cycle by the order of their arrival.

The Rat was the first, which by timeless standards should mean that your family will be much more looked up to than they actually are. It's a damn race after all, the winner gets the chicken dinner, right? Nah. The Rat was invited by the Cat but didn't wake him up in the morning of the race. It got too excited about being the smallest animal to be invited into such a big event, and completely forgot about his careless friend. That already marked you as a traitor by relations.

If that's not enough bad juju by itself, the Rat was aware of the shortness of his feet and probability in winning the race, so he took advantage of the Ox's gullible personality and rode on his head. A simple jump from his head to the finish line brought the Rat his sweet victory and his successors' despair.

Coming first means shit if all of this is considered.

That's why most people has no idea why some avoid you like a plague. You weren't sure how they'll react knowing this avoidance comes from the ancient sins of one Rat.

Through the cycles, the other animals competed over who hates the Rat decedents most, though you'd think they'd never want to race again after the first time. The Cat was a prominent contester, but the cats in your life didn't treat you badly. Jooheon gave you the same dimpled grin he offers every living being, and even some florals. Hoseok sent you his notes when you were down with the flu for a month without you even having to ask.

For a reason not quite known to you, your enemy during this cycle was the Horse. Most potently shown in your relations to one Park Jimin. He's a silver Horse, which is rare within their kind and higher-ranked. There were other Horses in your university but they reserved their behavior to disturbed looks and nothing more, which didn't really bother you.

It's not that Park Jimin was evil to you or anything, you've never seen him anything but kind to anyone he interacts with. The problem came from the one "protecting" him from you. Since he's a Horse you never tried to actively speak to him but that damn dog, Jeon Jungkook, detested your presence even if you were simply minding your own business on the other side of the room. Even Kim Taehyung stood between you a few times, and he's a Dragon – usually flashy personalities and not that much of a need to handle the animal politics. He was accepting of you if Jimin wasn't in the room though, so you figured it was Jungkook moving him as a piece to have something else protecting poor little Jimin from you.

As always, both pairs of eyes immediately set on you as you walked through the door, while Jimin kept chatting with Hoseok as if he didn't feel the mood shift. Taehyung offered you a small smile, but turned back to the conversation without much else. Jungkook gave you nothing but daggers. The conversation they took part in was loud as they always were, and per usual getting louder when Seokjin walked into the room, exchanging high-fives with the other four like a weird fucking ceremony before he came to sit with you.

Somehow Seokjin, the Snake that rode on the Horse's leg and pushed the Horse to the seventh animal in line, wasn't too dangerous to be around Jimin.

"What's up, loser?" Seokjin flopped down next to you, tossing a small, peach-flavored milk carton onto your lap.

You eyed the milk. "I really don’t get why I'm the only one turning them hostile when I walk into a room."

"You should try being this handsome," he replied with a smirk, placing his thumb and index finger in a V sign at this chin. You narrowed your eyes at him, resisting the urge to smack his hand right into his face.

Your argument was stopped short with the teacher walking in with a shit-eating grin. This poetry class was supposed to be easy, but as you soon learned looks can be deceiving. The teacher seemed to have a special, warm place in his heart for keeping his students at the edge of their seats at terrible peril. He didn't even try hiding how much he enjoyed making his poor students suffer.

And what greater suffering he could bring than a partnered poem analysis paper, already troublesome by itself before he added in the fact he chose the pairs instead of giving students that liberty. That asshole knew how anti-social you were, and the groans coming from the collective of students just made him smile wider.

"Why can't we choose though?" Jungkook complained, his arm wrapped around Jimin's chair. It was easy to guess who his preferred partner would be, and a short laugh from the professor showed he knew the answer.

"Because I paired the weak with the strong," The professor waved his papers at Jungkook, "To give some of you imagination-less people a standing chance to pass my class. Some of you, Jungkook, are in the gray zone.

The chuckles made Jungkook turn sharply back, his eyes locking with yours for a split second though you never made a sound.

"I hope you get Jungkook," Seokjin whispered to you, opening the abandoned milk carton and handing it back to you. "He will probably kill you if he spends too much time with you."

"Since when are fucking Dogs my enemies?"

Just as the words left your mouth ended, your name was called. The professor paused for a second that made you hold your breath – he wouldn't be as evil as to pair you with Jungkook, right? The answer, to your great despair, was worse. The name called after yours was Park Jimin.

"What the fuck?" Jungkook exclaimed, making Jimin jump a little at his side.

The professor looked at Jungkook like he just won the lottery. His eyes were twinkling, he could barely hold himself together from how giddy he was. The pairing in itself was logical, Jimin's weak points fit your strong points and vice versa, but it was clear as day from the mere atmosphere in the room that working together wasn't an option. The professor turned to look at Jimin, "Do you have a problem with this?"

"No," Jimin answered simply, making Jungkook's head snap to him.

The professor turned to you, and before he could open his mouth again you shook your head. You knew by instinct that if you'll ask to switch partners he'd probably give you Jungkook, and at least Jimin was able to be civil. It could only be worse for you.

"Great, so it's decided," The professor determined before going forth with his list. Their group started to exchange whispers right under the professor's nose, but he was in too good spirits to call them out for it. Their small, frantic voices seemed to be music to his ears.

"Wow, I jinxed you didn't I," Seokjin gasped but didn't sound sorry in the least. "Jungkook looks like he's about to have a stroke."

You signed, "I bet he's trying to find a way to make me disappear before I get to exchange one word with Jimin."

Your phone vibrated on your thigh, making you slide your headphones off. "Did you text me?"

"No," Seokjin replied with a bored voice. You hit pause on the video you were watching, though you really wanted to know if the McDonalds worker noticed the twins switching on him as he turned away for a second. Another vibration came though before you pressed the unknown number.

hey its jimin 03:23

You turned to Seokjin with wide eyes, which he didn't notice for a few moments. Words failed you so you made a small sound that turned his attention away from his phone. "Ah, did he text you already?" You nodded. "That was fast, I literally just gave him the number. I thought it'd take him longer to fend Jungkook off before texting you."

"Couldn't you warn me?"

"And miss that?" He pointed at your face with a pleased devil-smile. "Never."

You turned back to your phone, wondering why the hell your best friend is so annoying. You could choose better, and somehow this hate-love relationship is what kept you going. At rare times he was actually a good friend, so maybe you saw through the douche to the darling within. Like, deep within.

Hey 03:26

Smooth.

im gonna cut to it my rents r prejudice n doesnt wnt me alone w/u

so is it ql if we do da project in my house? 03:27

Sure. When? 03:27

im sorry. 03:28

His apology made you frown. It didn't come as a surprise to you that his parents wouldn't want their silver son meeting a Rat in their natural habitat. It's almost 2020 and there are still a lot of… opinions on what new ways the Rats found to mislead the other animals. You could offer the library as a neutral spot, but you didn't know if Jimin even knew where it is.

saturday? 6 ish? 7 ish? wn ure comfortable ish? 03:29

You couldn't help but chuckle at the swarming messages. You always saw Jimin texted real fast and half-finished sentences, but being on the receiving end of that was a brand new experience.

6-ish sounds good. Send me your address, I'll be there 03:30

He sent it, and you had no idea where it was. A quick look at the map revealed that he, in fact, lives in the middle of a forest and it shouldn't have surprised you this much. Silver Horses were known to crave the wild, not at all city creatures. That would stand against the fact they moved to Seoul from Busan, but you guessed education was stronger than their will to be free.

"We're meeting on Saturday," You informed Seokjin, who hummed as a distracted response. "Save me some food."

"As if Jimin will let you leave his house without feeding you," Seokjin laid his phone in front of him, finally focusing on you. "You clearly don’t know him."

"His loyal watch-dog makes sure of that," You rolled your eyes. "Did you know he lives in the woods?"

"Of course, I've been to his house before."

"Of course you were."

"You'll like it, it's a really big house, whole wall made of glass like the forest is inside. Also, Jimin's bed is really comfortable. Not that you'll get to try it unless you'll be a good girl."

You contemplated throwing your mouse at him. "We're doing a project and then our lives will go back to being absolutely separate. His parents won't even allow him the option of being near me where they can't control, you think his bed would be good?"

"His bed is good."

Seokjin offered to drive you there, claiming that the road is too complicated for you to navigate though. He listened to your whole rant about how you're great with directions as he fiddled with his keys. In the end he didn't leave you much choice and after seeing how complicated it actually was, you were kind of grateful. The forest really wasn't forgiving for first time arrivers. Seokjin informed you that he also had to have help the first time he visited, so you felt better about yourself.

Seokjin stopped in front of the house, giving you a knowing smile, "Now you're glad you agreed, right?"

"Wow yes thank you," you exhaled in one breathe, sliding out of the car with your bag in hand. "You're the best."

"What else is new?" Seokjin obnoxiously winked right before he drove off. He almost drove right on your foot, but you assumed the swag in the action was worth it for him. Fucking Snakes.

The front door seemed to loom over you, warning you of where you're headed. Each Zodiac made their own aura around their homes, and this one was new to you and quite overwhelming. You never got to measure the Horse aura before since all the Horses steered clear of you, getting it so strongly at once wasn't exactly welcoming. It's a good thing Horses were prideful people, so logically you knew there is no risk in stepping inside.

Keeping that idea in your head, you rang the doorbell, almost cringing at the choir of bird sounds that announced your presence. Of course Horses would have chippering birds as their doorbell. You barely managed not to roll your eyes as the door opened.

"It's you."

Jungkook gave you a bored look, leaning against the door he opened. He looked you up and down, maybe to be intimidating. You found it strangely amusing.

"Jimin is at dance practice."

"Did I get the time wrong?" You quickly pulled out your phone with the intention of checking Jimin's message. "I thought – "

"You didn't," Jungkook cut you off. "He was supposed to be here."

You stared, not sure how to progress from here. Jungkook seemed to be perfectly fine with letting you wait outside until Jimin came back and he was forced to treat you well. You weren't sure what he was going to do, but waiting awkwardly felt terrible.

Jungkook seemed to sense the struggle as he moved aside with a sigh, "Come in, I guess."

"Thank you," You side-stepped him, bending down to take your shoes off before entering farther. Jungkook gave you a quick look, walking to the end of the corridor, where he stopped to wait for you.

You tried to be subtle as you watched his actions, wondering if he really did hate you. With Jimin not being the room he seemed more calm around you, acting more like he just wasn't sure how to act rather than despising you. You knew the rumors about Rats didn't form a good image, and the fact that you're pretty rare is not helping. When people met you for the first time they were sure they already know everything you're about and had no intention to really get to know you as a person, not a zodiac reference.

"You can wait in the living room," Jungkook said the moment you started walking his way. The light coming from the end of hallway already hinted where the glass wall that Seokjin was talking about was, but you didn't quite expect the spectacle that was revealed to you. The last rays of sun filtered through many leaves, throwing calm shadows over the cream color-themed living room. Everything looked so polished and expensive, you could easily see Jimin in this space. You've never seen his parents so they were face-less figures in the image in your head, but they were loving and kind, like their son.

Well, to non-Rats, anyways.

Jungkook watched you, averting his gaze only when you turned to look back. He looked almost bashful as he took a sit on one of the couches, slipping out of his slippers and placing his feet on the edge of the coffee table. He looked less elegant than Jimin, but somehow Jungkook's Dog aura was also present in this space, as if he's a part of it. Thinking back, you've never heard Seokjin going to Jungkook's place or meeting Jungkook's parents. It made you wonder.

You took your seat on the same sofa, but in a safe distance from him. You awkwardly moved your attention to your socks, wondering if you should have chosen more presentable socks than the Line Friends ones you were currently wearing. You glanced at Jungkook to find him checking his phone, a small smile adorning his features. This could be the first time you saw him actually smiling, as you were usually watching their group from behind. It didn't look bad on him, this look. It was no secret that he was handsome, making a perfect visual trio with Jimin and Taehyung. You just never got to see it like other people did.

He glanced your way, finding your attention is on him made both of you embarrassed. You were used to watching people, your status as a Rat made you learn that observing people from a far would keep you safe from getting hurt. You got good at reading people, and Jungkook didn't seem like much of a challenge. He was sitting so comfortably, he must have been a household member, if not living here. Which would probably be a safe bet.

"Are you waiting for Jimin too?"

Jungkook's eyes darted to you and back to his screen. "Sort of."

"Um," You started, not knowing if you should actually ask this. He was obviously listening to you, though he wasn't looking your way. "I was wondering, do you live here?"

That caught him off guard. You could clearly see the Dog in his reaction, his eyes now trained at you with a soft wonder in them. Dogs were people of instincts, not calculating situations like you. You could tell that you were right, but something about his reaction made you feel like you spoke too soon, trying to be friendly with someone who is not really willing. You were somehow intrigued by him, a fact that wasn't surprising as all the Rats you knew were attracted to Dogs.

Jungkook was still looking at you though a few moments passed. Your anxiety wasn't liking that, making you defuse the situation. "None of my business, never mind. Sorry for asking."

Jungkook frowned. You chose to look at your socks again, so you couldn't judge the wheels moving in his head. Before he could settle on a choice of what to do with your question, his phone buzzed. Quick tapping sounds filled the silence before he announced, "He's on his way now."

"Great. You know, you don't have to wait with me if you have other things to do," You offered, wiggling your toes in the fluffy carpet. "I won't move from here."

"Nah, it's fine," he answered in a casual voice, which you've never heard from him before. You chanced looking at him and his eyes were already trained on you, but they weren't hostile. He looked like he was contemplating, and quickly a decision was made, "You're more polite than I thought you'd be."

You blinked in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know," Jungkook responded truthfully, ignoring another buzzing of his phone in favor of holding your gaze.

You were having trouble processing where this conversation is going, his easy look showing that he didn't quite have a clue either. It just wasn't anxious for him to be in this position. "Well, I'm glad to prove you wrong, I guess."

Even looking at him, you weren't quite certain what was going through his head. A part of you wondered if the attraction between Rats and Dogs was mutual, and having no other presences around made it easier to sense each other's auras. Maybe he was experiencing something new with you as well.

Maybe he reached out to you with that, and you should try as well. "I know the Rat's image is strong, but I'm honestly not a bad person. I have no intention of harming or tricking anyone."

"I figured, otherwise Seokjin wouldn't be so fond of you," Jungkook lifted his legs, folding them beneath him on the couch. "Actually, he asked me to be nice to you."

"Is that why you're trying to have a conversation?" You chuckled, but it stopped soon when you saw the strange look he gave you. Your mind provided a question that you knew you had no time to linger on, but you had to speak to Seokjin about what he told Jungkook.

"Sort of. He said that if I'll actually try not to push you away I'll see you're actually really good, better than him. Just more guarded."

"Seokjin said something nice about me? How uncharacteristic for him."

Jungkook made an amused sound, and you're ashamed to say it felt like a small victory. "He insisted enough for me to pay attention."

You nodded, not sure what else to say. You did make a mental note to thank Seokjin later. He jokes around a lot and it's usually in your expense, but he really does care about you. He must have known how nervous this made you and tried to make it easier. Being the middleman, he knows you and them well enough to be able to bridge temporarily until you could be civil with Jungkook, and maybe even complete this assignment without too much of a fight.

Jungkook looked like he had something else to say, but the soft sound of the opening front door, followed by Jimin announcing that he's home, stopped him. Instead he chose to push to his feet and walk to the hallway.

"You've been nice?" Jimin tapped on Jungkook's chest, a wide smile on his face. His smile never wavered when he looked at you, confidently walking towards you. "Sorry for being late, dance kinda makes me forget about time."

You didn't miss the slight tension that resided in Jungkook's shoulders as Jimin neared you, but he said nothing even when Jimin sat right next to you, dropping his bag at his feet. You've never been this close to him, but just looking at him you knew Jimin would smell amazing – you just didn't know how good it'll be. The scent that came off of him reminded you of the freshness of nature, like he just galloped through the woods like the Horse he is.

It was quite a nice image.

"It's okay," you reassured him, snapping out of your thoughts. "I didn't have to wait long."

Jimin leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, "Was he really nice to you, though?"

You nodded, eyes widening at how close he was. His skin was amazing, his eyes shining at you with pure happiness and amusement. He turned to Jungkook and they looked at each other for a few moments. You didn't know what it meant, but Jungkook seemed to catch on, walking back to the couch just to get his phone back. "I'll be upstairs."

You felt like maybe this decision answered your earlier question, but there is no way to know for sure as Jungkook disappeared up the wide staircase at the far end of the space. His departure left you alone with Jimin, whose attention came back to you.

"Is it okay if we stay here? My room is a mess," Jimin watched your face as you nodded. He seemed content with your answer, pulling the one notebook he used for every subject you shared together. Not that you've been keeping tabs, but yeah, you knew that.

You pulled out your supplies as well, feeling very conscious of the amount of attention you're getting. Maybe that's why people who spoke to Jimin alone were a blushing mess, being around him was like being under a spotlight, with absolutely no judgement attached. It's like he just genuinely enjoyed focusing on you.

"The prof was smart putting us together, I'm pretty bad at poetry," Jimin announced as he flicked through his notebook to find an empty page. "I just don't get hidden meanings and feet and stuff. But you've always been good, I still remember that poem you wrote about the sky."

You blinked at him, taken aback. You wrote remembered the poem was well, it was due in your first class. First year, first semester, before you thought Jimin ever noticed your existence. He seemed amused at the surprise in your face, finally settling on a page and leaning back on the couch. You followed, though a lot less comfortable than him. You decided there's no possible answer to what he told you and instead began pitching ideas for your analysis. You were given a poem that you read five times before meeting up with Seokjin, so you had a pretty good idea what you wanted to focus on. Jimin looked at you with an ever-present smile, drinking in all you had to tell him. He wasn't embarrassed to ask you questions, even if he was asking about the most basic things. You worked hard to not make him feel like it's too basic to be confused about at this point, just to keep him cheerful and excited to learn.

Somehow you felt like he really was learning from you, as minutes ticked by and he used the new information you've given him. It was obviously his weak subject, but he seemed to find your knowledge and merge it with his joy to find a good middle that allowed you to work him like dough. The idea you came up with seemed solid, Jimin adding his own, smaller ideas to give it a better structure. Working with him was easy, you bounced ideas off of each other, Jimin allowed himself to joke around with you, and the atmosphere stayed light. Before you noticed, hours went by and you were sitting more comfortably, Jimin's calm acceptance made you feel almost welcome in his home.

Jimin giggled at one of your ideas as he allowed his notebook to fall into his lap, giving up on doing more work in favor of conversation. "Honestly when you told that prof he was wrong I almost laughed right in his face. I'm closer, so I would've probably gotten kicked out of the class too."

"He said frogs are the symbol of freedom!" You defended yourself, bringing your own notebook to lie against your chest. "I couldn't just let this nonsense go."

"I know you couldn't," Jimin leaned his head against the sofa, eyeing you with a smile. "I noticed you're not shy to say what you wanna."

"You noticed?" You shifted, bringing your legs up between your body and Jimin's, leaning your head the way he did.

Jimin hummed, looking at your legs before returning to you. "Maybe I don't look like it, but I'm pretty observant. And being a Rat, you were interesting to me."

You willed your face not to blush, deeming it too embarrassing. "You wanted to watch the enemy?"

"I wanted to watch the possible friend," Jimin corrected with not a bit of shame. "I don't believe in that Zodiac enemy stuff, it's stupid to judge for something that was done millions of years ago. The fact is you've never been not nice to anyone who didn't deserve it. You're frank and your thoughts are heard, but there's nothing wrong about that. I think you're really funny, and nice, and a good person to be around."

You found no words to reply with, so you simply stared at him. Your lack of response didn't matter to Jimin as he leaned closer, the same amused glitter in his eye. "I'm glad I get to see I'm right."

"Ah," Jungkook's voice came from the stairs, making both of you jump a little farther away from each other. You looked at the newcomer in alarm, expecting him to explode at you for even daring to come so close to Jimin. His eyes were trained on you and he seemed conflicted, but when they moved to Jimin they softened immediately. You noticed Jimin had this kind of effect on him, like he was easily softening Jungkook's rough edges.

"I'm kind of hungry, what are we ordering?" Was his chosen response. Jimin didn't miss a beat in naming a restaurant that you weren’t familiar with. Jungkook slurped and rolled his eyes but didn't argue, which lead you to believe this response was quite popular with Jimin.

"Is there anything you can't eat?" You turned to confirm that Jimin was talking to you, shaking your head as a response. You remembered Seokjin being clear on Jimin liking to feed people, so you weren't really surprised when it came true right before you.

When Jungkook was busy ordering the food, Jimin declared that "study time is over". He turned the TV on and flicked through Netflix, asking for your opinion on which movie to watch. "I'd ask Jungkook but he'd probably say a Marvel movie," Jimin giggled, flicking past another rom-com.

"I like Marvel," you commented.

"I know, Spiderman is your phone background," you snapped your head in his direction just to catch his victorious smile. "Observant, I told you."

"Marvel movies are great, you're not wrong," Jungkook affirmed, throwing himself on Jimin's other side.

"But we can watch something else once in a while," Jimin whined, throwing one of his legs across Jungkook's, who naturally moved his hand to rest on Jimin's thigh, close to his knee. You felt Jimin's eyes on you, which told you he noticed you saw but didn't move Jungkook's hand away. You felt like it was a hint, but the situation made you so embarrassed you refused to think about it.

"How about this?" Jimin paused on a movie starring Ryan Reynolds, which you agreed to immediately. Again, your reaction was not missed by the others. Jimin didn't wait for Jungkook's approval to start the movie, settling against the other as the movie started. When the food arrived Jungkook stood up immediately, throwing the whining Jimin's leg off of him in the process.

"Does our skinship bother you?" Jimin asked immediately when Jungkook was out of earshot.

"Nope."

"Good," Jimin's hand came down twice on yours, a contact you weren't expecting. Jimin giggled at the look on your face, but nothing else could be said as Jungkook came back into the room. The rest of your visit held the same kind of calmness, until Seokjin called you to tell you he's waiting outside, liberating you to think without anyone watching you.

Jimin texted you when you were on the way back, asking you if you're free to meet again soon. Seokjin was telling you a very long story through the entire time you were texting, and you were only half listening. He noticed, but didn't mind much.

"Hey Jin," you lowered your phone, intentionally interrupting him in the middle of a sentence. He stopped with a huff, but didn't complain farther, which gave you the okay to continue. "What did you say to Jungkook? He said you asked him to be nice to me."

"Just that."

"Shut up, I know you," You watched him, examining his face. You knew this boy too well, he knew exactly what you were referring to and he wasn't going to let it go easily. "What did you say?" You insisted.

"Honestly? Not much," He shrugged his shoulders, fingers lightly tapping on the wheel. "I called to ask him to be civil because you didn't choose this either. The important part of the conversation," Seokjin paused just to be dramatic, his finger pointing at your face for emphasis. "is what he said. And before you start pushing, I promised him whatever he says is safe with me."

You whined but knew your best friend too well to assume anything you can do will get him to change his mind. He was sassy but trustworthy, and if he promised Jungkook he won't say anything, he won't even break down for you.

The second time you came to Jimin's house, you drove your own car. You were a lot less nervous than the first time since you kind of knew what you were walking into. The birds at the doorway seemed welcoming now, and Jungkook even gave a small smile as he opened the door.

"He was too lazy to get up," he said as a way of explaining, leaving you to get out of your shoes since you already knew where to go. You followed shortly after him, just a little surprised to see Jungkook's stuff were spread next to Jimin's.

"Y/N!" Jimin threw his arms up from the spot where he was laying on the sofa. He just barely pushed himself into a sitting position to give you space to sit besides him. "Are you okay with Jungkook staying with us?"

"Of course," You responded, pulling your notebook out.

"Good," Jimin's hand came down on yours again, with Jungkook watching but not saying a word. "He could use some help as well, he got partnered with that Kris guy that is too cool for school."

"Jimin," Jungkook's voice held a warning that Jimin simply swatted away.

"It's just Y/N, it's fine. She'll help you not to fail," Jimin grinned at Jungkook before turning the same grin to you. "Spending half the time on our assignment and half on his is okay?"

"Sure," You smiled back, daring to smile at Jungkook as well. He stared back, and only managed to chuckle when he turned away from you.

"Great!" Jimin clapped, opening his notebook to show you he already progressed with your ideas. You pulled it from his hands, examining what he wrote down to find he did a pretty good job. You were kind of surprised to see the improvement. Jimin was smarter than you considered him to be.

Jimin's lead allowed you to slip back into the comfortable conversation you had last time, making wonderful progress with your ideas. Jimin started building an outline as you spoke, structuring your ideas in a coherent manner that will make writing the assignment easier for the both of you, no matter who took which part. Jungkook was watching you occasionally, and you couldn't miss the affection he held for Jimin. It just blossomed out of him with no effort. There was no hostility left in him for you, and even laughed at your jokes.

When Jimin said he's stepping out to go to the bathroom, you simply leaned back against the sofa to continue working on your formation. You felt Jungkook had something to say again, and you peaked over the notebook to see him already looking at you.

"I," he began, and you lowered the notebook to give him your full attention. "I do live here. I didn't answer you last time and it was rude, sorry."

"It's okay," You smiled.

"My parents died when I was young and Jimin's parents took me in," he continued, the rubbing of his hands together showing his awkwardness. You wondered why he was telling you this very shortly, since you wanted to actually listen to him. "I owe a debt to them. Jimin told them we have a Rat in class after the first day of Uni, and they asked me to make sure you don't come near him. So… I went a little overboard. I'm sorry."

You nodded slowly. You didn't know why he was being this open with you, but you appreciated the honestly. You figured no one expected having a Rat in their class since your kind usually sticks together and avoids big cities from the fear of being excluded within them. "It's okay," you reassured again, and Jungkook seemed to breathe out in relief. He smiled, flashing his bunny-like teeth in sincerity.

"Thank you," He glanced down at his hands, still rubbing them against each other. "I'm glad I listened to Seokjin, and I'm glad Jimin was right about you. I was acting so stupid."

"It's – "

"Jungkook project time!" Jimin shouted as he walked back to you, interrupting whatever moment you were sharing with Jungkook. He chuckled and handed you his notebook, which you accepted. Jungkook's poem was a little harder than yours, you could see the complications in it. Jimin helped you speak to Jungkook easier, to find ideas. As you were talking he was writing down important things to form into a proper paper later. The new information you accumulated was still residing in your head, to be thought of more deeply later.

For now, you just enjoyed their presence.

You noticed you're slipping slowly. The first thing that caught your attention is how easy the road to Jimin's home became with each time you visited. Honestly there wasn't much left to the assignment you were doing and Jungkook's part in his was complete two visits ago, but here you were, dropping by again in the clear pretense of having to work on it.

Another thing that alarmed you is how easy it was to be in their presence. You stopped hanging out in the living room a long time ago, preferring Jimin or Jungkook's bedroom instead. They didn't even bother opening the door for you – since they always invited you when Jimin's parents were out there was no risk. You could just walk into one of their rooms, hang out with them, talk about everything and nothing. Jimin always made sure you're comfortable, keeping his "is this okay" questions as his tool to do it. Jungkook connected to you more naturally, he tried things like lying on your thigh with careful eyes judging your reaction but with no words.

In opposition to everything you thought you'll go through in preparing this assignment, this was easy. It was nice, warm, and it kinda felt like you found your own little room in their lives. Going to classes also became easier, since you didn't need to be careful. Taehyung was taken aback when Jungkook called you to land a perfectly good joke and earn your laughter, and Hoseok accepted it without question. Seokjin proposed moving closer to them in the class-space, but Jimin waved him off, carrying his stuff to where you were usually sitting in the back of the class. His reasoning was that moving away from the professors is more rational than moving closer.

Somehow even the non-Zodiac people in your class seemed to notice the shift. Of course they had no idea what caused the animosity between you and Jungkook to begin with, but the friendship that rapidly grew between you was a dirty contrast to what you were to each other before. You noticed people glancing your way, eyebrows raising as Jungkook allowed himself to be a fool while sitting right on your left. Jimin tried to settle on your right, but one look from Seokjin told him he didn't earn the ability to come between you yet. Instead he used to stand in front of you and Jungkook during the break, leaning against the row in front of you with each of his legs touching one of Jungkook and yours.

You were continuedly surprised at how easy it was. You kind of hated yourself for complicating this easy routine you had. The most blurring alarm in your head wasn't oriented there at all, but in the depth of your stomach. See, whenever Jimin laid besides you in his bed, his legs touching yours and pure sunlight pouring from his eyes as he giggled at you, you felt butterflies. Every time Jungkook laid his head on your thigh or cracked jokes at you just to see you smile, you felt butterflies. Every time you crammed together on Jimin's bed to watch another non-Marvel movie, you usually in the middle because Jimin kept insisting that if one of you falls it's not gonna be you, you had butterflies. It's like you couldn't keep this simple, couldn't enjoy what you got without secretly craving more.

Because you liked both of them at the same time, you felt biased when you noticed the little sparks going off between them. You noticed Jungkook's affection for Jimin a long time ago, but only when you started getting to know them better did you notice Jimin's affection for Jungkook. It wasn't in the look he gave but in the actions he took. It's like he knew what was going through Jungkook's head, knew that his friend wasn't good with words, and he became his mouth or acted automatically to solve whatever problem Jungkook never uttered. You could see their friends were aware of it too, always teasing Jimin that him and Jungkook are such soulmates that they had no use for words.

They never refuted that, and you believed no lie could cover that obvious truth.

And it made you jealous.

Not mad jealous, not something that came between the three of you. It was just this secret passion to get in on their secret, to tap that frequency that they communicate through and help Jimin please Jungkook, get that same look that Jimin gets, to be in the middle not because you could be physically harmed, but because that's your natural place.

This kind of horrible wishes made you consider skipping town and never seeing anyone again. You were accepted by them completely, but you were still a Rat. You needed to remember that, needed to remember that you're actively avoiding Jimin's parents because they hate you, not being friends with them from the beginning because Jungkook protected Jimin from you. This place that you accumulated in their lives – it's not permanent. It's not actually yours.

With this heavy feeling in your chest you tapped in the code to the apartment, leaving your shoes at the door in the empty spot they kept for you. The sun was pretty nice today, so they'll probably be in Jimin's room. As you climbed the stairs, you could hear faint music coming from the almost closed door – they usually leave it wide open when you're over. You stared at it for a second, wondering if you should knock. You lifted your hand to do so when a soft moan came out of the room, making your heart skip a beat. You looked above your shoulder to find Jungkook's room was empty. The fisted hand you lifted to knock made soft contact with the door, mindlessly choosing to simply push the door open and come face to face with whatever you're going to find.

You really shouldn't have been so surprised when the scene revealed itself to you. Jimin was lying on his back, legs wrapped around Jungkook's waist, who was lying on top on him. They were almost fully dressed – almost because Jungkook wasn't a fan of wearing shirts inside the house. You swallowed thickly as you watched Jungkook's tongue slipping for a second from the seam of Jimin's lips, just to return inside as Jimin's fingers pressed into his skin, bringing him impossibly closer. You couldn't move, couldn't think when you watched Jungkook's fingers weave in Jimin's hair, pulling his head to a better position to kiss him deeper. After moving his head, Jimin's now open eyes could easily find you standing in the doorway, mouth slightly open and your hand still on the door.

You felt adrenaline shoot right through you as he pushed slightly at Jungkook's chest. Jungkook's head turned your way, but before you could see his expression you already removed yourself from the door. Your hand barely met the railing as you hurried downstairs, trying your hardest to ignore your name being called behind you. Just as you reached the last step, almost out of this situation completely, you felt determined arms wrapping around you to pull you against a stable chest. You knew it was Jimin from the smell of his hair as his head rested on your shoulder, adding pressure to stopping you from leaving.

"Please wait," He said softly into your clothed shoulder, his palms rubbing your sides. You obeyed, but only because you had to catch your breath after what felt like running a marathon. You heard Jungkook's familiar, heavier steps coming down the stairs, though he was a lot slower than Jimin. He stopped close by, but not close enough for you to see him.

"Y/N," Jimin pleaded with the sound of your name, making your heart ache. You could make out tinkers of regret in the syllables, the pained feeling washing over you and forcing you to place your own hands on top of his, calming him down. It worked immediately, as he lifted his head from your shoulder to peer at your face. "Is this weird?"

You had no idea what to say, your mouth opening slightly just to close again.

"Is it making you uncomfortable?"

You tried to calm your mind, just as desperate as Jimin to know the answer to that. A dull throb in your stomach told you that no, it didn't make you uncomfortable. It made you excited, and not in the innocent way. Seeing them like this, together, kissing, it felt right. It felt like something you wanted to see again, something you wanted to experience for yourself. Just another thing you wanted to be a part of.

"No."

Jimin breathed out against your throat, making you shiver. His hands felt more confident, moving along with yours to rest on your stomach. You could see a movement from the corner of your eye, but Jungkook stopped before he'll be too close. "We want you to stay. Is that okay?"

You relaxed your back to Jimin's chest, nodding your head. Jimin turned you around and you saw Jungkook's face for the first time – his eyes were wide and fearful as he stood there, not knowing what to do. You couldn't help but smile at him just to calm him down, your hand reaching out to him as well. He held it softly, taking one more step down to be closer. "It's okay," you reassured him, finally earning a smile from him in return. He led you back upstairs, with Jimin still attached to your back. It was awkward, but you felt like Jimin needed that so you powered through.

You only blushed a little when they led you back to Jimin's bedroom, noting how messy the sheets were from their movements on them just seconds ago. Jungkook walked around the bed to climb on the other side, but he didn't lie down until you settled in the middle. Instead, he waited until he could lie on your thigh again, fingertips tentatively brushing over your jeans. This was the most Dog you've ever seen him, almost pawing at you to make sure you're not mad. You fought the urge to play with his hair, feeling like it's too intimate after what you just witnessed. Your decision to place your hand on his shoulder instead did not go unnoticed by Jimin's careful eyes.

"How about Spiderman Homecoming?" Jimin's soft voice made you chuckle.

"I'd love to."

Jimin settled on your left, taking your hand in his the moment he turned on the movie and tossed the remote away. He leaned his head against your shoulder, playing with your fingers with both his hands. You stayed in silence as the movie started but you weren't really watching. You were too focused on everywhere your body made contact with them, the memories floating in your head, the meaning behind it.

Their friends must have known about this… thing. You didn't actually know what you walked into and they didn't seem to care about it. It also seemed rational for Jungkook to be so protective of his… boyfriend? Friend with benefits? You really had no idea what to call it. It felt like a lightbulb just turned on in your head, shedding light on things you didn't know were hidden in the unknown. You felt stupid for not putting the clues together, but they did seem to be pretty skinship-y with you as well, so how were you supposed to know?

Jimin's fingers slipped between the gaps of yours, securely holding your palm against his. You looked down at your hands – this is the first time he didn't simply play with your fingers. You never actually held hands before. Jimin noticed your shift, lifting his head to meet your eyes. You felt like he was trying to communicate something to you, and it frustrated you that you weren't on the frequency yet to know the words he didn't say. Jungkook tensed against your leg, obviously feeling the new, confused energy. He moved to push his nose against your thigh, asking for something. Again, you didn't know what.

Jimin lifted your joined hands to place the back of your hands against his lips. He didn't kiss it, just held it there as if he's hiding a part of his expression. You could see regret attaching itself to his expression, and you really didn't like it. As an instinct, feeling like there's nothing you could say to make this better, you pulled at his hand until you could press a kiss against his skin. It was small, but you felt like it was so meaningful. The relief replacing the guilt in Jimin's expression informed you he got it as well.

"Thank you for staying."

You felt like Jungkook's palm, spreading over your thigh, was attempting to say the same thing.

"Yeah, they've been dating for a while now," Seokjin shrugged your terror off.

"And you never thought to tell me," you deadpanned, throwing the closest thing you could grab at his face.

your pencil bounced off of his chest, completely not harmful but still earned a frown. "I thought they'd tell you when they're ready. It seems like they were."

"You think they decided to tell me like that?" You heaved a sigh, nothing allowing the tightness in your chest to be released. Your mind conjured the image of Jimin's sad face as he waved you goodbye that day, like he thought this was the last time you'll be seeing each other.

You really hoped it wasn't.

"I mean, they knew you were coming," Seokjin began, fingers tapping on your knee. You wondered if your sigh made him worry, since he looked not annoyed but a little concerned now. "Jungkook is a moment kind of guy, but Jimin is more calculated than that. He would have stopped whatever it is before you came, if he didn't want you to see."

"But why?"

You could tell there was something Seokjin wasn't telling you. He just tapped on your knee, saying nothing that could help.

my partner asked me to change something you have time tomorrow at 5? 14:10

You saved Jungkook's number a while ago, but this was the first text messages between you. Jimin was the one usually texting you for the both of them, or you talked over in the group Jimin opened for the three of you. Nonetheless, you couldn't jump fast enough on an opportunity to feel like everything is okay between you.

Sure, see you then. 14:10

You were surprised to find Jungkook in Jimin's room, but with no Jimin to be found. Another missing ingredient was his work stuff, since he just sat around on Jimin's bed on his phone. The moment you made your presence known he threw him phone on the bed, watching with as you crawled next to him.

"I didn't really need help, it was an excuse," Jungkook confessed.

You puffed the pillows behind you, settling beside him. "Why do you need an excuse to hang out?"

"Didn't know what else to say," he shrugged, shimmying closer until your shoulder touched his arm.

You chuckled, touching his leg with yours. "Just say you want to hang out, it's enough."

"I want to hang out."

You laughed, looking at Jimin's glowing stars stuck to the ceiling. The silence wasn't uncomfortable like you feared but pleasant. Jungkook's leg touched yours a few times, but the touch didn't remain as he pulled away. You said nothing to that either, just letting him find his comfortable place since you knew it was harder for him to shake it off than it was for you.

"I didn't get to spend a lot of time near Dogs," Jungkook mused in a light tone, turning his body more towards you to get your attention. You simply looked at him, waiting for him to continue. "But I heard there's this thing, with Rats."

You blinked, knowing that the look on Jungkook's face meant he was testing the waters with something that he's not sure how you will react to. "What thing?"

"An attraction," he paused, evaluating each altered muscle in your face. "Like, a physical one."

You hummed, needing to look away from his intense studying. You didn't know where he's going with this, but your heart started high-key hammering in your chest. "Yeah, that's a thing. I heard about it, but you're kind of the first Dog I've been close to, so I'm not sure."

Jungkook made a small sound, almost like he was frustrated that you're not saying what he wanted you to say. He tried again, sitting up a little to get a better look at you. Your heartbeats became louder to your own ears, making you feel like you're trapped under his attention though you could very easily get away. "Do you," he began, eyes drilling into yours. "Do you feel it?"

You held your breath, not sure what to say. Just the last time you were here you saw how much him and Jimin are feeling for each other, why would he ask you this now? Do they know you have feelings for them and that's what he's trying to get at?

Jungkook licked his lips in a flash. "Jimin," Your heart dropped at the mention of his name as guilt creeped in. "He told me to ask." You frowned, taking in how much closer Jungkook is leaning now, never relenting. "Is it okay if I kissed you?"

You felt like every muscle in your body just hit pause. You looked at him, at the anticipation he now showed after asking the question. It was so not him, he would just do things when his calculated consequence was worth the risk – they must have talked about it, as you know them Jimin must have insisted this is not worth the risk no matter how many calculations he made, he had to ask instead of do. And he did, and you could see how uncharacteristic of him it was as he anxiously waited for your response.

You felt your body move, your instincts taking the wheel to getting what you desired for a long time now. You felt yourself nod, and Jungkook needed no more. He kissed you immediately, hands sailing from your shoulders to your neck, until they could spread across your jaw and cheeks. You felt him tilting your head – like he's done with Jimin – as he moved his body closer to encase you in. He pressed you against the pillows behind you, the body weight on top of yours feeling right enough for your hands to find his waist, asking for more. He complied, tongue moving past your lips to stroke at yours. He made an approving sound from the back of his throat, and you responded immediately with a breathless sound of your own.

You were so focused on the sensations you almost missed the dip of the bed from your left, where Jimin usually is.

Jimin.

You broke apart from Jungkook, not missing his displeased sigh right before he pressed his nose to your shoulder. Right above his you found Jimin's face, with a wild twinkle in his eye and a wide smile pressed painfully tight to his cheeks. "Why did you stop?" he asked cheerfully, crawling closer.

"Because it's weird when your boyfriend is watching," Jungkook answered instead of you, his face still hidden.

"It's not weird, it's nice." It only took one tap of Jimin's hand on Jungkook's head for him to lift his head, pecking his boyfriend centimeters from your face like this is absolutely normal. Jimin's hand came down next to your head as he made sure his amused face is the only thing you could see. "Is it okay?"

You knew what he was asking and knew that Jungkook was watching. Looking at him you found he wore the same expression he had before, like he was waiting for what's to come on the edge of his seat. He nodded at you, rapid motions that were meant to lead you just agree.

So you did.

Jimin's kiss was much less passionate than Jungkook, he just enjoyed the touch, the permission he was granted to have another piece of you. It didn't last long either, but the look he gave you – Jungkook's look – set your mind at ease.

He and Jungkook shared a moment, both still holding you, and you got it now. This time their plan worked. "We want you," Jungkook blurred out, eyes shifting to you as Jimin giggled against his shoulder. "I know you probably understood on your own, but it's important for me to say."

You smiled at Jimin's fit of happy little giggles and at the blush spreading across Jungkook's cheeks. "I want you too."

#bts scenarios #btswriters #bangtan bookclub #jimin scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jikook #bts

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crystalninjaphoenix · 6 years ago

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Stalkers and Masks

Septics Inverted

A JSE Fanfic

These are two moments that I really wanted to address, but I felt both were too short for their own story. So I took one and made it a framing device for the other. One’s about Stacy and what she’s going through, and the other is about Marvin and one of his problems. Ehhh, probably not my best work but I’ve done these two plot points all the justice I can.

Read the intro story: Part One | Part Two

Various other AU-related stuff found here

Taglist: @evyptids @awkward-bullshit @watermelonsinmyattic @asunachinadoll @a-humble-narcissus @metautske @odysseus-is-best-boi @acuriousquail @beerecordings

Stacy liked to think that her computer was secure. She kept up-to-date on her antivirus software, didn’t give trust anything that asked for her security information, and kept her passwords on a sheet of paper in her nightstand drawer instead of anywhere digitally that could be hacked. However, she quickly learned that all these precautions were for naught when it came to the living glitch who decided he wanted to check on her every ten hours or so. She’d be browsing the Internet and suddenly the webpage would freak out. That didn’t mean she was being hacked (actually, technically she was) it just meant Anti decided to pop in.

Honestly, she was starting to warm up to him. Maybe that was because he hadn’t showed up in person for the last week so she didn’t have to deal with his personality. Occasionally she’d get an email or text from a blocked user, asking her how life was, if she was safe. And, well, life was better. She’d gotten a new job at a department store with better pay. The hours were good too, now she had time to spend with her kids and also get enough sleep. Things in the city seemed to have calmed down, in that there was less death and disappearance on the news.

But...something was off. There were times when she was out and about, driving the kids to places or running errands on her own, when she felt like someone was watching her. When she looked around, she usually didn’t see anyone. But there were times when she thought she saw...him. To the point where it was starting to freak her out.

One night, after putting the kids to bed, she sat down at her computer and typed a simple phrase into Google: “how to tell if someone is stalking me.” Immediately, the page froze. She hit enter several times, trying to search, but a strange, rapid staticky beeping just came out from her speakers. And it was that moment when she realized it wasn’t just something wrong with her Internet.

A fizzing of pixels later, Anti was sitting on her desk, legs dangling off the side. “What are you, seven?” she asked before her brain could catch up with her mouth.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Anti said. “So what’s up with that search?”

“Are you spying on me whenever I use Google?”

“No, I just installed a program to let me know when certain words were searched. Such as ‘stalk’ or ‘stalking.’” His eye narrowed. “So? What’s the deal? Is it him?”

“I’m...not sure,” Stacy said slowly. “Sometimes I think I see him, other times I just get a...a vague sort of sense that...someone’s watching me. It’s probably nothing, I’m probably just being stupid, but...better safe than sorry, y’know?”

“Definitely, especially considering they could be magically tracking you.”

Stacy gaped at him and his nonchalant statement. “Excuse me?”

“Come on, you were there that night at the diner. You saw that magic was real. Didn’t you think something like that was possible?”

“No, I didn’t.” Stacy leaned back in her swivel chair. “I guess it never occurred to me that that was a-a possibility. I didn’t know the rules for this sort of thing. Sorry, I should have thought—I should have known.”

Anti stared at her, then glitched off the desk and into a standing position. “No, you really shouldn’t have, because nobody told you. It’s not your fault, so don’t assume it is. I could possibly give you a brief overview, let you know what you’re in danger of.”

“Oh! Th-thank you!” Stacy hadn’t realized she was apologizing for things that weren’t her fault. Force of habit, she assumed. She looked at the computer screen, where her question still lingered, unsearched, in the search bar. “Do you think...I-I mean, I know Chase doesn’t have any magic, unless he does and I didn’t know, so...are they teaming up?”

Anti considered this. “Probably. Your ex and the magician aren’t on the best terms, but they’re civil. You’d be in more danger of having the doctor or the vigilante stalking you for him, those guys are closer.”

For some reason, that simple statement made dread pool in her stomach. “H-how many of them are there again?”

“Five.”

“And...and they could all help Ch—help him follow me?”

“Mmm, probably.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” Stacy sat on her hands to keep them from shaking. She’d never done anything in her life to warrant so many enemies. And, if she remembered correctly, these guys were responsible for most of the current chaos and terror in the city. She worked hard to take deep, controlled breaths. “Do you...do you have any, uh, um, any info on these guys I could see? You’re all computery, do you have files on them or something?”

“I do. But you don’t want the full files, you’ll lose sleep. I can maybe give you some edited versions...” Anti’s head tilted to one side. He stared intently at her computer screen. She watched as her browser closed and her file explorer opened. By itself, the computer navigated to the downloads folder, then five new folders appeared, each one labeled with a name, followed by (edit).

“Huh...that’s handy.” Stacy scooted her chair closer to the desk, grabbing the mouse. She stared at the folder with his name on it for a while, but she couldn’t bring herself to click on it. Instead, she clicked on the next one down, opening up the folder to reveal various .txt files.

“There used to be photos and videos in here,” Anti said, peering over her shoulder.

“Why’d you remove them?”

“How squeamish are you?”

“I mean...my daughter broke her arm once. It was all bent but I could look at it.”

“I probably made a good call then.” Anti pointed at one of the files, and it opened up. “Brief overview: guy’s a doctor. Not really, ‘cause he got booted from medical school for maltreatment. Didn’t stop him from faking graduation, getting a job at a hospital, and then stealing the patients who wouldn’t be missed.”

“This sounds like the backstory of a horror movie villain,” Stacy laughed nervously.

Anti didn’t laugh. “I’m sure the patients thought they were stuck in a horror movie.” He gave Stacy a dead-eye stare until her smile faded. Then he turned back to the screen. “Police in his home country found out. He ran, ending up here. Started a nice little black-market clinic and kept up his hobby.”

“You know I think I’ll read this one later, when it’s lighter outside.” Stacy hurried to click out of the folder. She opened up the next one instead. This one had videos as well as text files. “...should I be worried about these?” she asked, circling one of the videos with the mouse.

“Nothing explicit, just violence like you’d see in a movie. Criminals get the shit beat out of them. The works.”

“Wait...this is for that vigilante, isn’t it? The one on the news?” Stacy looked at the folder name. “That’s his real—”

“Yep. So if you see a guy who looks like this—” He opened one of the videos, fast forwarding until he got to a good image of the vigilante’s face. “—and he introduces himself to you as that, you better run. Actually, don’t, he’s probably faster than you. Distract him until you can sneak away.”

“He can’t be that bad, can he?” Stacy asked, skeptical. “I mean...getting rid of the criminals in the city? It’s like a real-life superhero.”

“Well, superheroes don’t beat confessions out of mob members and then murder them. He’s probably the safest to have a conversation with, though. Assuming you haven’t done anything illegal.”

“O-kay...then...” Stacy was starting to realize just how deep this trouble she was in really was. She could feel the beginnings of panic edging in on her, but she pushed it away. She’d let herself freak out later. “Wh-what about that magician guy? I think you called him Marvin in the diner? Can he really...magically track me?”

“Probably.” Anti closed the vigilante’s folder and opened up the magician’s. There were a lot of images in this one, what looked like pictures of pages from books. “I’ve been trying to keep track of the spells he knows, but it can be difficult. There’s a good chance he knows a tracking spell, but he probably wouldn’t use it unless someone, like your ex, asked him to.”

“...do I want to know why?”

“Eh, he doesn’t really care for spells like that. If they can’t produce effects he can see, he won’t use them unless necessary. He’s a flashy bitch like that. Has a style and sticks to it. Like that cape, which he only takes off maybe one day per week, and that mask, which I actually haven’t seen him take off yet.”

“Really? Never? Not even to sleep or take a shower or anything?”

“Sleeps with it on. And I’m don’t know about that shower thing, I didn’t put a camera in their bathroom.”

Stacy briefly wondered if his knowledge about sleeping with the mask meant he’d put cameras in the bedrooms, but she pushed that out of her mind for now. “Why? Seems uncomfortable...”

Anti laughed. “Well, a long time ago, he tried a spell he wasn’t ready for, and it blew up in his face. I’m pretty sure he’s embarrassed about what it looks like underneath there...”

“Schneep! I know for a fact you’re in there!” Marvin banged on the door. When there was still no answer, he sighed, looking around the reception room of the clinic where he was standing. He didn’t like this place. It was that kind of almost-nice that looked like it was trying to fool you into thinking it was less shady than it actually was. The good doctor really needed to upgrade his decor.

Having enough of contemplating his dislike of this place, Marvin turned back to the door and started banging harder. “Hey doc! I’m not against melting your door down if you don’t come out in the next thirty seconds!”

The door flung open, and Marvin barely jumped out of the way in time to avoid getting a whack to the face. Schneep poked his head out. He was wearing his mask, which he proceeded to pull down in order to scowl at Marvin. “There is no need for such a commotion, my friend!” he scolded. “I was in one of the back rooms, I did not hear you for a while and then it took me a tick-tock to get here.”

“Whatever. Get a security camera wired up here, or a buzzer or something. I could’ve been a customer who just decided to take business elsewhere.”

Schneep barked out a laugh. “If people come here, it is not because they have options to take business to. But enough of this, what did you want?”

Marvin shifted on his feet. “I...need you to take a look at something.”

“Oh, is that all?” A wave of relief crossed Schneep’s face. He stepped back, opening the door wide enough for Marvin to pass through. “Come in, come in, I can see what it is back here.”

Marvin let Schneep lead him into the operating part of the clinic, but he refused to sit down on the table. “It seems not so serious, so if you would please wait a moment while I take care of this...” Schneep vanished through one of the metal doors leading deeper into the building, leaving Marvin to tap his feet impatiently. He didn’t like this. First of all, this place looked like it was thrown together, and also needed an upgrade. Second of all, he was already having doubts about this, he didn’t want them to have time to fester.

Schneep reemerged, tossing an empty syringe on a nearby tray. “There we are, we will not be disturbed now,” he said. “What is it you need help with?”

Marvin started fidgeting, pulling on his fingers. “Okay. So. I am—look, I’m trusting you with this. You can’t tell anyone, alright?”

“That is no problem.”

“I’m serious. I will literally put a fucking curse on you if I find out you told anyone.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve been working on one that can make it feel like pins are being shoved in your eyes whenever you look at something, and that something can be as vague as a specific color. Y’know, like the literal version of ‘cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.’”

“Now you are going overboard with this. I have no intention of telling anyone whatever it is this is about. This secret of yours is safe with me.”

Marvin exhaled slowly, and looked toward the ceiling. “Okay. Okay, good. Fuck. Here goes nothing.” Before he could change his mind, he reached up and undid the straps of his mask, then pulled it off. He slowly looked back towards the doctor.

Schneep’s eyes were wide. He stepped forward until he was uncomfortably close to Marvin. He raised his hand. “May I...?”

Marvin hesitated. “...fine,” he grumbled. “But take off your gloves, they’re still messy. And be careful.”

The doctor pulled off his gloves, then put his hands on either side of Marvin’s head, turning it from side to side so he could get a better look. “My god,” he muttered. “What happened to you?”

“That’s not your fucking business,” Marvin said through gritted teeth. “But they’ve been...itching for a while now, and I’m wondering if they’re infected or something.”

“I would be surprised if they were not. They look...angry.” Schneep’s eyebrows furrowed. “How old are they?”

“I think about...four years at this point?” Marvin started turning his mask over in his hands. It was hard to remember sometimes.

“Really? I would think only a couple months.”

“Doc, I’ve been living with you for two years and haven’t once taken off my mask. You didn’t think there was a reason for that?”

“Ah yes.” Tentatively, Schneep reached out and tapped Marvin in the middle of his forehead. “What is this?”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Marvin yanked his head back.

“Excuse me, I am concerned! That looks like bone!”

“It’s not bone, it’s just—making my first mask out of ceramic was a really bad idea, ‘cause even magically-enhanced pottery can still shatter.”

“Why do you have ceramic embedded in your face?!”

Marvin resisted the urge to touch the places where the shards had ended up lodging. He had them memorized by now, mostly because of the dead spot in his nerves there. Forehead, upper cheeks, one between his nose and left eye, one above his right. He could have dealt with the rest of the scars, if only the shards weren’t there. “Look, I was wearing my old mask at the time this happened, it broke, I ended up getting pieces of porcelain fucking stuck to my face, can we move on?!”

Schneep raised his hands in surrender, stepping back. “Okay, okay, fine!”

“Thank you.” Marvin began spinning his mask around his pointer finger, using one of the eyeholes. “Anyway, can you tell if they’re infected? And can you help if they are?”

Schneep bit his lip, eyes scanning the damage. “Well, I would have to know what caused them. They look a bit like burns, but in the pattern of knife slashes. Like hot glass.”

“What?”

“Bits of broken glass, heated up so they will burn, flung at your face. That’s what it looks like. There are also parts where I am reminded of Lichtenburg figures.”

“What?” Marvin repeated, exasperated.

“When things are struck by high voltage, patterns will appear. These are not quite the same as scars of lightning, they are...bigger. But I am reminded of them.”

Marvin sighed. “You know what? Let’s just work under the assumption that someone took a hot, electrified knife and repeatedly applied it to my face, that’s probably as accurate as you’re going to get. There might also be some lingering traces of magic in there.”

Schneep rolled his eyes. “Well, I cannot do anything about that, but if they are itching and irritating you, I have some salves that may help. They are in the other back room, the storage one, if you would kindly follow me.”

“Alright, alright, but I hope you find this stuff quickly. Chase is making me watch his ex for him, and I don’t feel like getting into a shouting match with him over not actually doing it.”

It was around midnight when Stacy decided to go to bed. She’d tried to read through the file Anti had given her on the magician, but had to stomp halfway through. Some of these spells...why would anyone want to use spells like that? Instead, she switched to reading the vigilante’s file, managing to finish it. Then she realized it was way too late, and she had to get up early to make breakfast for the kids, get ready for work, take the kids to school, and go to work herself. That was only four things, but that was too much.

She was walking down the hall to her room when there was a knock on the front door.

Fear jolted through her. Who could be knocking this late at night? Nobody good, probably. She stood shock-still in the hallway, waiting for something else. When nothing happened, she swallowed her nerves and crept toward the living room and the front door. Maybe it was nothing?

When she flipped the lights on, the front room looked exactly the same as it had earlier that day. Except for one thing: there was now a brown envelope sitting on the floor, in the perfect position to have been pushed through the mail slot. Stacy slowly stepped forward. She peered through the peephole on the door, seeing nothing on the other side. So she looked down at the envelope on the floor, then bent over and picked it up. She turned it over in her hands.

There were words written on the back of the envelope. “Hello sweetheart.”

Stacy recognized that handwriting.

She collapsed on the couch, staring at the envelope, listening to her heart pounding in her ears.

He’d found her.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #antisepticeye #chase brody #marvin the magnificent #dr schneeplestein #septics inverted au #invertedau #brigid writes fanfiction

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midnightcrowisabadname · 7 years ago

Text

Fic snippets

While I was recovering from the massive amount of stress that had prevented me from writing I decided to just work on anything, anything that would allow me to write because it was better than nothing. As a result I have several stories started but no idea if I should actually continue them. :/

So I’ll just post them here and see if anyone actually cares? Briefly edited but still unpolished since they’re drabbles.

Who am I kidding nobody reads these.

All Dressed Up and Nowhere to Go

Yuuri is a novice cosplayer who runs into his cosplay idol at a convention, forced into actually talking to him by Phichit Yuuri is sure he’s made a fool of himself and the last thing he expects to see is a post by Vinik Cosplay looking for him.

I... I have a lot of cosplay experience. Write what you know, right?

After only a few hours in full cosplay Yuuri was starting to feel uncomfortable; maybe it was the heels, although he couldn’t deny he liked the few inches they added to his height. His red wig was heavy on his head and the fake glasses were perched on his nose in a way that made him feel like he needed to push them up but that’s how they were worn. The same could have been said about the coat that hung somewhere around his elbows, the hidden fasteners keeping it from falling to the floor pulling at his shirt.

Out of the corner of his eye Yuuri caught sight of an uncomfortably familiar face, one that he recognized despite the black, chin-length wig and red contact lenses. With a nervous gulp he took a step back into a corner to escape of his line of sight, he wanted to avoid being seen while dressed as a character from the same series. It didn’t matter who he was cosplaying, he didn’t deserve to be noticed by his idol, the man who’d made him start making costumes in the first place.

He’d been thirteen at the time, still learning about himself and hesitant to make new friends, when he’d found a picture online of a man that looked like a character had come to life. It had been incredible to see how perfect they were as Fai from Tsubasa, from the carefully styled wig to the handmade coat. Upon learning that cosplay was not just a thing that existed, but something he himself could do Yuuri immediately wanted to be a part of this new world.

He’d had to start small of course, as much as he wanted to make a complex costume right off the bat it wouldn’t turn out anything like he wanted it to. Simple shirts, coats, following the pattern and instructions entirely until he got the hang of sewing straight lines and what the markings meant. Yuuri’s first completed costume had been Link and it hadn’t been all that good, the fabric he’d chosen was a lightweight cotton that looked nice on the bolt but for a tunic didn’t work at all. It was a learning process and with each new costume he forced himself to try a technique he’d never used before.

The Fai cosplayer still amazed him, he went by Vinik cosplay and everything about him seemed perfect from his cheekbones to his fingers. Each picture of him was breathtaking, whether he’d donned armor as Fenris from Dragon Age or layers of silk as Mikazuki from Touken Ranbu. Needless to say that the sudden appearance of the man Yuuri had only seen in photos right in front of him was a shock, so when a familiar voice whispered in his ear it was completely normal to jump.

“Shouldn’t you say hello to him?” Phichit had somehow materialized from the shadows despite his flashy clothes and dark purple wig. “You’ll probably see him again at the photoshoot so why not get the formalities over with now?”

“I... I can’t, he intimidates me.” As much as Yuuri idolized the man, the difference in their abilities was too great and the costume he’d spent painstaking hours working on suddenly felt too cheap, too sloppily done. He hadn’t ironed half the seams and he’d probably smudged his eyeliner rubbing at his contact lenses. A memory he’d tried to bury resurfaced, when a picture of him had ended up on a blog of “bad Blue Exorcist cosplays” with the caption referring to him as a “shitty cosplayer in a frumpy costume.” The blog had been deleted later, someone had pretended to join as an admin and deleted it from within, but the embarrassment had never left him.

“Yuuri, as your best friend I’m going to tell you in advance that I have your best interest in mind and that you can yell at me all you want in the hotel room.” Then he was suddenly being dragged towards the two men and he wished he was one of those cosplayers who could actually pretend to be their character. He was just Yuuri, and he was going to make a fool of himself.

(Skipped ahead because I wanted to write this part)

“Chriiiiiissss,” Viktor moaned as he stared into the computer screen at his best friend, one cheek pressed to the surface of his desk. “It’s been months and I still can’t find him again, what should I do?”

“Have you considered making one of those missed connections posts? ‘Katsucon 2018, the Black Butler photoshoot. You were the adorable Grell to my Sebastian, here’s a photo of us.’” The man stared back at his friend, a half-smile forming on his face.

“Would that work? I definitely have a picture of us, maybe someone will be able to tell me who he is.”

“Viktor no, I was joking-”

“Too late, already posted one. ‘Anyone know who the Grell was? I’d love to be friends with them.’”

Sleeper Agent

Inspired by the words I’ve had written on a whiteboard next to my bed for the good part of a year. Yuuri has been dreaming of places he’d never been for years, a crowded market square, a beach at dawn, but it’s when he finds himself in a nearly empty office building he’s surprised the next day when he meets the very same silver-haired man he’d talked to in last night’s dream. Apparently astral-projection isn’t welcome in government offices.

The first time it had happened Yuuri had been eight, his mother had tucked him into bed and kissed him on the forehead before checking to make sure his nightlight was on and he had his stuffed dog next to him. He’d closed his eyes, tired from helping his parents all day, and when he’d opened them again he’d been somewhere else entirely; gone were the walls of his bedroom covered in posters, replaced with a cloudless blue sky. He was in what appeared to be some sort of park, flowers and bushes surrounding a building that seemed large enough to be a palace and seeming to be entirely made up of windows. He’d been so fascinated by how the light reflected off the glass that he hadn’t realized he’d actually started walking closer until he noticed a large pond inside with water lilies floating on its surface.

He’d tuned out the conversations of passersby, the allure of the strange building before him capturing his full attention enough that he didn’t register that the people around him weren’t speaking Japanese until someone was standing behind him. The words sounded lyrical, smooth and flowing, but Yuuri didn’t understand any of them and he didn’t realize he was being spoken to until the words were repeated more loudly.

Turning around he saw a boy that looked to be not much older than he was, although his first impression was of a picture he’d seen of a snow spirit. His silver hair hung to the middle of his back and his eyes were wide and blue as they stared into his own brown ones as though expecting him to vanish, one hand reaching out to him. Instinctively Yuuri raised his arms but the boy’s fingers passed through one palm and were withdrawn as though he’d been burned.

More words in that language Yuuri didn’t understand, the boy rubbing his hand in confusion as those blue eyes scanned him up and down. “I don’t understand,” his own voice sounded high-pitched and shaky and there was no way to know if this boy could understand him.

“How did you do that?” The words were in English and Yuuri was barely able to comprehend what he was saying through his accent.

“Do... do what?” He wasn’t fluent in English, had only started learning it within the past few years, and he struggled for the right words in his dazed state. Before he could receive an answer however, he blinked, and he was back in his bed staring at the supposedly glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling, the scent of flowers lingering in his nostrils.

As Yuuri got older he had more dreams like that first one, dreams where he would suddenly be in an office building after hours or a shopping plaza crowded with people. He could never touch anything in these dreams, and sometimes people could see him whereas other times he was invisible, but the wonder that filled him with each new place he visited faded as the years went by. When he’d been a child and the dreams had been new he would often overhear the other kids at school talking about what they’d dreamt of in passing, the nightmares they’d had or the fantasies of flying. He’d mentioned the things he saw after falling asleep only once, but the response had been enough for him to learn that it wasn’t normal and to never speak of it again.

Once he’d entered college Yuuri stopped dreaming entirely, the stress of balancing the work his classes gave him or staying up late to study for tests making his sleep schedule erratic. It was his fault for trying to cram four years of classes into three but he wanted to finish school early so he could return home with a degree in business and help out his parents in running the inn. It hadn't been necessary to study abroad, but the university had offered a nice scholarship to him that he just couldn't turn down.

Now that he was back home, sleeping in the bed he'd grown up with, the dreams came back and he wandered through area after area for a month before anything out of the ordinary happened. Out of the ordinary was the wrong word, life-changing, earth-shaking, mind-blowing, any of those things could better describe how that one night had affected him. It had seemed normal at the start, no different from what he'd experienced while growing up, an office crowded with filing cabinets and computer desks while being devoid of life. A part of Yuuri recognized it faintly, as though he'd been there before, and he started walking into the next room to see if anything could jog his memory when someone called out to him.

The words were unfamiliar to him, a language he didn't know, but English soon followed and the tone of voice in which the question was asked was hostile.

"How did you get here?" Standing next to a desk with a chair that had fallen over was a tall man with silver hair cut short except for a flop of bangs over his left eye, the uncovered one shining a brilliant blue under a narrowed brow. He wore a black suit, immaculately tailored for his thin but muscular body, a purple tie over his clean, white shirt.

Yuuri wasn't sure how to answer him, he was struck dumb by being addressed in such a manner and by how beautiful the man before him was, too beautiful to be human it seemed. He was saved the immediate trouble of finding a response when the silver-haired man spoke again.

“You shouldn’t be here, this place is off limits to civilians.” With cautious, practiced movements the man took several steps towards Yuuri, hands raised as though he needed to prove that he was unarmed. When they were close enough for Yuuri to pick out strands of what looked like fur on the otherwise immaculate suit one hand snapped out as if to grab hold of his wrist but like every other dream the fingers passed through him.

“You’re not actually here?” The man looked Yuuri up and down once more, eyes widening. “Who sent you here? What are you trying to learn?”

“I don’t-? What-?” Yuuri didn’t understand, he was dreaming right? This was all some crazy dream he’d wake up from in a few minutes, Mari would burst into his room and drag him out of bed so he could help do laundry or whatever chores needed to be done.

“Who are you?” The man’s blue eyes were cold, his beautiful face stiff with irritation or confusion or something similar. Why did he want to know? Why was this dream so different from those he’d had all his life?

“Yuuri, Katsuki Yuuri...” He didn’t know why he told the man at all, but it didn’t matter. This office and the people in it weren’t real so what did it matter what he said?”

“Do you know where you are, Katsuki Yuuri?”

“No, I-” he started to respond but the dream started to fade around the edges, his vision blurring as the office building vanished and was replaced by the inky darkness that always came before he woke. Once he’d returned to his bedroom he saw it was early, the sun barely above the horizon, yet he felt too restless to try falling asleep again.

On his night stand was a journal, the sixth journal he’d owned since he realized that the dreams he had weren’t like everyone else’s, and began writing down what he’d experienced. The pen stopped before he could describe what the man had looked like, the memory of pale skin, silver hair, and blue eyes catching him off guard now that he was conscious. He really had been attractive, it was too bad he wasn’t real.

The day passed without much incident, but while Yuuri was restocking the towels for the baths as his parents were preparing to close he was called back to the entrance before he could finish.

“Yuuri, there’s a man here who’d like to see you!” His mother’s voice sounded cheerful as it always did, like she found joy in everything life had to offer, but underneath the cheer was a tinge of concern. She was happy her son was getting visitors, but something about the time of day or whoever it was made her uneasy. He set the stack of towels down on the shelf and left the changing room, locking the door behind him as he made his way to the entrance room.

There was his mother, bustling around as usual with a coat made of thick gray wool as she conversed with... Yuuri felt his heart sink to somewhere around his stomach as his eyes took in the man from last night’s dream, and the man smiled at him before holding out a hand.

“Hello, I’m afraid I didn’t have a chance to introduce myself the last time we met, my name is Viktor Nikiforov and I’d like a word with you in private.”

Steal My Heart

Phantom thief AU. A masked man known only as Silver has been making off with jewelry and artwork despite announcing his target to the police force ahead of time. Rather than continue to let the man continue stealing the police have decided to have someone go undercover so they can find out just who Silver is and what his goals are. To Yuuri’s delight, they choose him.

“My dear detective, if you truly want to capture me you’ll have to try harder than that; I look forward to our next meeting, may it be more rewarding for you than today was.” With a wink the masked man backed away from Yuuri and leapt off the roof, prompting the black-haired man to scan the surrounding buildings for any sign of the stranger. Gone again, gone without any clue to who this mysterious thief was or just why he’d chosen such a strange path.

“Any sign of Silver? Did you spot the target?” A buzz from the earpiece as he continued searching the darkness for a rope, a ladder, anything that might be able to tell him just how the man had managed to escape from them yet again.

“He’s escaped sir, there’s no sign of him or the statue.” It was like every other encounter with this crook, each failed attempt to capture one person who announced his intentions to the world before successfully stealing whatever object had caught his attention that night. When a note written in elegant script had been pinned to the door of an art gallery declaring that an elaborate vase would be liberated from its glass case nobody took it very seriously. Whoever this “Silver” was had to be pulling a prank, people said, there was no way that the vase was going anywhere.

Yuuri doubted anyone would have paid much attention to what had happened if the object holding the note in place had not been a knife, a knife that had been put into evidence lockers after every incident and yet managed to go missing overnight. What reason did this thief have for using the same exact blade for, as the public was starting to refer to them, his calling cards? What reason did he have for anything he did?”

“Detective Katsuki, Celestino would like to see you tomorrow morning in his office, until then you are dismissed. Get some rest, it’s late.” Through the haze of sleep-deprivation clouding his senses Yuuri felt dread start to close in on him. Did someone think that what happened tonight was his fault? Was he going to get fired for not catching V? How could he possibly sleep in a situation like this?

Phichit was still awake when Yuuri trudged into their tiny apartment at half past two in the morning. His laptop was perched precariously on his knees as he somehow managed to watch Netflix, shove leftover Chinese food into his mouth, and browse twitter at the same time. With a muffled noise halfway between a cough and a gasp he managed to gulp down the mouthful of fried rice before grabbing a half-empty bottle of water and draining it. “Yuuri! You’re back! How did things go?”

“Not great Peach, Silver got away again and Celestino wants to see me first thing in the morning,” with a groan Yuuri sank onto the worn futon next to his roommate and stole a dumpling from the bowl of leftovers. “I can’t help but assume I’m going to be fired.”

“You always jump to the worst conclusions, Celestino loves you and he’s essentially said as much so heat up your own dinner, take your meds, and get some sleep.” Phichit jerked his food away from Yuuri’s thieving fingers and scooted as far away from him as he could. “You’ve been obsessed with Silver since he first made the news, and you’re the most dedicated person on the team, but you really need to take better care of yourself. You could carry a month’s worth of groceries in the bags under your eyes.”

“Detective Katsuki, thank you for meeting with me.” Celestino was seated at a desk strewn with papers, files on different cases, and snack wrappers. He looked like he hadn’t slept much more than Yuuri did, his long hair was half out of its ponytail and stubble coated his wide face.

“What did you need to talk to me about? Is it about last night?” Yuuri’s hands were clenched inside his pockets, nails digging into his palms to keep them from trembling.

“In a way, yes; it’s about the Silver case. Word has it that you’ve been more dedicated than anyone else on the team, and considering your work ethic I’d like to see if you can do a special job for me.”

“Sir?”

“I need you to go undercover and see if you can find out who Silver is, you’re the person who knows the most about him so you’d have the best chance at success.”

“Undercover? Me? Sir I ran into him last night, he saw me. Wouldn’t he be able to recognize me even if I am undercover?” Yuuri felt sick, his stomach beginning to churn up the remains of last night’s dinner as sweat gathered on the back of his neck. The memory of what had happened on the rooftop was all too fresh in his mind, the way Silver’s face had been so close to his own that he could feel the thief’s breath on his skin.

He’d been stationed on the roof with several cops, having insisted on going to the museum to observe Silver and gather information if they failed in capturing him. Yuuri hadn’t expected to actually come face to face with the man he’d been following for over a year, much less interact with him, and his movements were sluggish as his brain struggled to comprehend the situation. The thief had been dressed in all black: a turtleneck, jeans, gloves, and mask chosen for ease of movement and blending in with the shadows. The only things that stood out on the darkened rooftop were his hair, so light it must have been his namesake, and his gleaming blue eyes from behind the mask.

Silver had initially glanced briefly at him before doing a double take, something about Yuuri grabbing his attention enough for him to pause in his escape. A sly smile crept onto his face, thin lips twisting up as those bright eyes sparkled with amusement. “You’re not a cop,” his voice was rich and melodic. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to watch,” fumbling for words that didn’t make him out to be a fool Yuuri stuttered at the man. “I knew you’d be here so I asked the police to let me join them so long as I didn’t interfere.”

“You fancy yourself a detective do you?” A laugh pierced the air as Yuuri realized that the officers that had been stationed with him were nowhere to be seen, had Silver already taken care of them or had they just not noticed what was going on? “My dear ‘detective,’ if you truly want to capture me you’ll have to try harder than that; I look forward to our next meeting, may it be more rewarding for you than today was.”

The thief had vanished after that, leaving Yuuri dazed and horrified that he’d actually spoken with Silver and failed to do more than stammer at him. Some detective, he’d deserved to get fired for such a serious slip in judgement.

“From what the report said you didn’t actually say who you were, in fact it’s completely possible that he took your words to be those of a fan. He knows you were watching him, he knows that you were aware of where he’d be, and he knows the police let you accompany them but that’s all.” Celestino stroked his chin in thought.

“Detective Katsuki, the next time Silver sends one of his calling cards I want you to be there again and we’ll find a way to have you assist him. We want him to take you under his wing so you can learn everything there is to know about who he is and how he operates from the man himself. Then, when you’ve gathered all the information you can, we’ll capture him and you’ll be known as the man who helped bring Silver down.”

Yuuri couldn’t feel his hands anymore, they’d gone numb from how hard he’d been squeezing them, and his stomach was roiling. He was not suited for this type of thing, he’d originally become a detective because he’d wanted to help people and he’d always been good at piecing things together in ways others couldn’t. His skillset did lie in information gathering, it was true, but he’d never thought about going undercover for a case like this; he didn’t like the idea of gaining someone’s trust just to betray it.

“Do you understand what it is I’m asking you to do?”

A sigh escaped his lips as he resigned himself to the task. “Yes sir.”

Welp, I did warn whoever read this. If anyone read this. Nobody reads this stuff I post.

I tried.

#Yuri on ice #yuri on ice fanfiction #yuri on ice fanfic

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jesswaywardangel · 7 years ago

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A Christmas Miracle

There was a well-known secret: Dean Winchester loved to read. He’d deny it if you asked him and maybe some people would believe him, except for Cas. See, Cas had seen Dean’s soul, cradled it in his arms as he raised him from Perdition and with that came certain perks. Those perks included knowing Dean inside and out. And no matter how many times Dean brushed it off, he knew Dean loved to read and he knew his favorite author was Kurt Vonnegut.

It was two days before Christmas and Cas was on a mission. He was going to make sure Dean had the best Christmas present ever. The Winchesters were having a much needed break on Christmas, Sam and Dean both agreeing that they would take the day off. Buying Sam a gift had been easy but for Dean, Cas agonized about it for days. Sam had suggested that Cas give him something from the heart(Sam had to quickly explain that no, this didn’t mean that he should give Dean a piece of his vessel’s heart. Nine years on Earth and still, Cas took certain things literally).

Though Dean would not be pleased to hear about this, Cas had searched through Dean’s memories to find out what Kurt Vonnegut book he’d never read. Slaughterhouse-Five? That was his favorite. Cat’s Cradle? He’d read that, too. As well as Mother Night, Slapstick, Galapagos, and his other nine novels. He’d considered traveling back in time and stealing the original manuscript of Slaughterhouse-Five before Sam reminded him that if he did, it would be like the book had never existed. He was reluctant to say that Sam was right. What could he give someone who had done so much for him? Someone who forgave him again and again even as he messed up again and again? Someone who showed him what to live for? Someone who showed him what humanity was and the beauty in it? Cas was beginning to loathe the Christmas tradition that included buying a material thing that wouldn’t mean anything. He was on a hunt for something that would mean the world to Dean besides pie, his baby, and Sam.

It was days before it came, in the form of a simple internet search. He’d found it. The perfect gift for Dean Winchester. Something he could treasure forever.

+++

He flew to a small town in Williamsport, Indiana, where they were holding an auction for the first edition of Slaughterhouse-Five. Dean would love it. It held something of sentimental value. Through combing through Dean’s memories, he found that this was the first book Dean ever read, the one that made him think that reading wasn’t so bad at all. He was fifteen and waiting for Sam to get out of school. He waited in the library to find refuge from the rain and picked a random book to pretend to read so he didn’t look out of place. That book had been Slaughterhouse-Five and he read it in the three hours it took for Sam to get out of school. He ended up checking out a few more books by the same author. Kurt Vonnegut, in Dean’s opinion, was a badass.

People are known to seek refuge in literature and that’s exactly what Dean did. “And so it goes” became Dean’s mantra when things felt too hard to deal with. It was a comforting thing he would whisper to himself when his father would leave him and Sam alone to fend for themselves, when his father would punish him and when his father would hit him in drunken rage for letting Sam run away. And so it goes.

He had brought a thousand dollars, confident that no one would bid as high as him. Sam said that it was reported that the average price range would be around eight hundred so the book should be Cas’s to take.

That is, until a middle-aged woman with bright blue eyeliner and blonde, bouncing curls, bid higher than him.

“One thousand and five hundred!,” she said, a smug smile on her face as she glanced at Cas.

“One thousand and five hundred going once, going twice, and sold-”

“No!,” Cas growled, anger bubbling in his chest. He wished he could smite this woman and get away with it.

The auctioneer halted and blinked at Cas. “Do you have a bigger deal?”

But Cas wasn’t listening to the man in the flashy purple suit as he stalked towards the woman, thunder in his eyes. She eyed him with trepidation.

“You will not accept this book. It is mine.”

She blinked, her mouth hanging open as if ready to catch flies. She took a moment to compose herself before crossing her arms across her chest and raising her chin at him. “Excuse me but this is-”

“I don’t care,” Cas said. “This book is very important to someone I care deeply about and you will not take this away from him.”

“Well,” the woman tuted. “This book is very important to me and it is mine to take since I outbid you.”

“No,” Cas said as he moved closer into the woman’s personal space, his teeth gritted. “You do not understand how important this is. This is the first christmas where he will be at peace and nothing can go wrong. I will not let a bad present ruin it.”

“Well, sir-”

“I’m not finished. I met Dean when he was broken beyond repair, in hell, and I helped raised him from it. This man has taught me the value of life and humanity. He has taught me love. I rebelled against my family for him. Through everything he has stuck with me. From me betraying him, to not trusting him, he has never betrayed me nor not trusted me. He has always had my back. He has saved me time and time again. I have been told that I have fallen in every way imaginable for this man but I do not regret it.

Though I rescued him first, he has rescued me in more ways than one, in many times over. He is kind, selfless. He loves his family more than himself. He has an unhealthy relationship to his vehicle. He does not see the good that he is and how important and loved he is and I just want this gift to show him-”

The woman’s expression softened. “Sir-”

“I need that book. This was the first book he ever loved. It has meaning to him. After everything that this man has done for me, this is the little I could do.” He looks at the woman with a desperate expression. “Please, help me with this one small deed. I have known humans to be kind and selfless. I need this book.”

“Damn,” the woman mutters. “I wish I could find a man like you.”

Cas squints at her. “I’m sorry. Is that a flirtation?”

She smiles at him. “Please, honey, I can see you’re taken and pretty smitten about this boy of yours. Dean is one lucky man.” She glances at the book, resting on the display in all it's glory and sighs. “I withdraw my bid. Give it to this cutie. It obviously means more to him,” she announces to the auctioneer.

Cas’s eyes widens. It never ceases to amaze him how capable humans are of kindness. “Thank you. What you have done means a great deal to me.”

She waves him off. “I just wanted to resell it for a higher pay. It seems you needed it more.” She pats him on the shoulder. “Merry Christmas, sir.”

“Thank you.”

She smiles. “I hope that boy of yours likes it. You two have a good Christmas. And my name’s Elena if you want to invite me to your wedding.”

Cas tilts his head in confusion. “We’re not-”

Elena shakes her head. “Don’t worry, I’m not against gay relationships. Don’t feel the need to hide it from me.” She picks up her purse and coat.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Cas said, a small smile tugging on his lips as he watches her walk away.

“Sir,” the auctioneer says. “Here’s your book.”

As Cas hold the book gingerly, he revels in the fact that Christmas miracles do come true.

#destiel #destiel fic #one shot #drabble #supernatural #christmas fic #merry christmas y'all

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hannahjohnsonfmp2 · 5 years ago

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Task 4- Testament to Human Life

This task was all about trying to find things in the world that we thought would stand the testament of time and give a reminder of human life if we were to die out on this planet. I stuck with the more obvious signage and buildings that looked like they would be able to withstand the test of time. I used a low ISO in all of these as it was mostly sunny with some cloud coverage so I was able to have the lowest ISO. I had my aperture as low as it would go mainly depending on the zoom to let in as much light as possible which worked in my favour most of the time. There was only one photograph I had to have a really high aperture for and that was F20 as I needed to have as little light as possible as there was a lot of glare. I wanted a fast shutter speed so I kept it at a dependable 1/125 throughout and it worked in my favour.

Camera Settings-

ISO-100 Aperture-F5 Shutterspeed-1/125

I like this image because of the split created by the plants that covers half the house to me it’s an example of what could happen in the future if humanity were to disappear and nature were to reclaim its land. It’s more of evidence of what could happen not that this house may not stand time as the bricks will most likely erode. The low angle point of view creates a sense of being smaller than not only what’s infront of me but smaller than the bigger picture of what may be one day.

Camera Settings-

ISO-100 Aperture-F5.6 Shutterspeed-1/125

The focus was to be more on the castle in the background however the overgrown, dilapidated building in the foreground has become more president and creates more of a contrast to the castle behind. I say this because the castle in the background is getting rebuilt and renewed to help it stand longer where as the building in the foreground looks like it has been left to fend for itself for a number of years now so it shows the importance of some buildings over others due to a now dead monarchy but we have to preserve that it once existed.

Camera Settings-

ISO-100 Aperture-F6.3 Shutterspeed-1/125

There are alot of straight lines from the bricks and the words on the sign are made and printed in specific locations that line up straight and even. This creates an aesthetic view for an eye to look at. The image has space for movement as the sign is showing you where to go I thought it would be a good idea to leave that extra space. I also like this photo because of the plants breaking through the bricks and growing next to the sign I think it shows how there is a start to degradation of time and this is this sign’s beginning.

Camera Settings-

ISO-100 Aperture-F20 Shutterspeed-1/125

The main thing I wanted to capture in this photo that I though would stand the testament of time was the crane. It’s not the more obvious thing you can see in the image that is clearly the buildings but that’s almost a story in itself as the crane may seem the obvious target that time may hit first however I believe the cluster of buildings and homes will be the first to go because of their building materials. I chose a high contrat and black and white to put the buildings into darkness and have the more lighter bit of the image be more of the obvious although viewers might look at these and try and find out what is so special about the darkness.

Camera Settings-

ISO-100 Aperture-F5.6 Shutterspeed-1/125

I really like this image because of it’s simplicity and the stories it creates with just that word. In reality it’s the name of the road however most viewers will not know this so it creates a question of ‘what does it mean?’ and ‘why this word?’. Which are all valid questions the viewer may never get an answer to. I think the plants growing over the pillar are evidence of time taking over and one day this pillar my crumble away leaving few to no letters left leaving only evidence that there was once someone here. I cropped this image in a way to remove any excess noise besides what is behind as to not let in any extra detail/clues of what or why this might be.

Camera Settings-

ISO-100 Aperture-F4.5 Shutterspeed-1/125

I added a higher contrast to this image while editing to bring out the details from the black a lot more as I think it added to the age of the image. I also made it black and white as I felt all the colour from the original image made it very busy and because of the angle and depth of field I didn’t think it needed the extra colour. I chose this angle to shoot from because I wanted to get as much of the plaques on the wall in frame as I could. This also meant I could show the length and how this stretched on for quite a while and the black bit at the end adds the question of ‘does it go on forever?’. I chose to shoot it in portrait to get as much of the wall upward as I could and also this meant I could remove any extra noise or action from the other side that would be facing the wall.

Camera Settings-

ISO-100 Aperture-F5 Shutterspeed-1/125

I went for symmetry in this image which was slightly awkward as I was on a hill and you can see evidence of that in the bottom of the image but besides that I think I nailed it. Due to the different levels of the wall it seems to create a round aspect to the image where the middle stands out and the two sides sink outwards however it’s a trick of the eye which I think adds to the images importance a story.The colour pallet is simple but effective as it is a piece of history I didn’t think it needed to be flashy but I found in black and white it took the realness and evidence of time away from the image.

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thai--kick · 7 years ago

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Reflection

So I fought in the UK TKD national championships 3 days ago. There wasn’t much footage for me to look back on but there was enough for me to look at compared with how I felt to know what I need to work on going forward. I knew going into the ring that I would be at an immediate disadvantage in terms of raw skill. I’ve been doing this sport for two months, so everyone else would have much more experience in this particular art and much more skill than me. This I knew before I went in and was immediately evident in all of my fights.

However; I also knew what I had going in that other competitors didn’t, and that was pure strength. I’m a native boxer and kickboxer, and that upper body strength and raw beating power really helped. I did foul in every single fight, mainly because I would grab a leg defensively then kick hard while I had hold of it, putting my opponent on the floor. But it worked because it scared every single fighter it happened to, and a lot of them seemed nervous every time they got up afterwards. Also, my diversity in my fighting background was experience enough for me to evade, counter, and manage the fights relatively well, but my ring management and general TKD fight sense does need work that I think only experience is going to bring.

My raw beating power helped me win one of my fights, where I got my opponent disqualified by forcing him out of the ring five or six times, then baiting him into going for the same jumping spin hook kick, where he would land with both hands on the floor, thus costing him a foul. The baiting didn’t always end with me scoring a foul; I have a beautiful black eye as proof of this.

I could take hits better than everyone I went up against. This wasn’t necessarily a great thing - it cost me eight points in one fight - but it seemed to make my opponents double take when they landed a clean one on me and I bounced back. I knew this because I am not a naturally good boxer, so when I started years ago I would spend a lot of time just getting hit in the face.

I worked with simple stuff; going back to my first point, I knew that I couldn’t match their precision or skill, so there was no point trying to use flashy kicks. I stuck with turn kicks, front kicks, and check kicks. In the back of my head I felt really great for not trying to overcomplicate my combos with spins and jumps, and once or twice I could just move around someone throwing an aerial kick and just smack them in the teeth with a nice simple turn kick. This worked equally as well against me; once or twice a kick would be hidden by the spin it was in and get me real good.

My summary; I did okay. I need to work on my skill, need to work on my speed, and I definitely need to work on my movement, guard, and counter kicks. But it went about as well as I expected.

Edit; energy. I was lighter than I had ever fought before and hadn’t slept too much the previous night and I really felt it. My legs felt sluggish and I felt more pathetic than I had been before. Next time I fight I need to lose the weight much more in advance of my fight so my body can get used to having very little energy.

These kind of summaries are good to work on for any kind of fighter after their fights to look at what they need to improve. My advice to anyone is always self reflect. It’s okay to praise yourself, too - if there was something you were good at, then acknowledge that it worked. But by the same token, accept criticism and think critically about what didn’t work and how to change that.

#tkd #taekwondo #fighting #personal #reflection

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sidewalkscienceguy · 7 years ago

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My Life with Solar: the First Month

This post is 2500 words long. Therefore, here’s a preemptive TL;DR so you still experience how cool these solar panels are:

I now own 4 portable solar panels and 2 power banks

Total investment of $320

They store 93.6 Amp hours of energy, which is enough to charge my Galaxy S7 phone for an entire month without sunlight.

You can take these things friggin anywhere, literally.

Hiking, golfing, swimming at the beach, driving, eating at a restaurant, ANYWHERE.

Charge phone at same rate as a wall outlet

If I charge my phone once per day, it will take me more 400 years to pay this off

I need to continue to integrate more devices and appliances to make this investment worth it

I have too much energy and can’t use it quickly enough

Best approach at the moment is to share as much energy per day with as many people as possible

Future outlook: connect laptop, lamps, and smaller appliances in apartment

Despite current financial flaws, it’s just insanely cool and convenient

Free and infinite energy no matter where you go

I am now extremely conscious about how much power I waste doing mindless things on my phone

Alright, there’s your TL;DR. Now let’s get to this.

PART 1: THE TECHNICAL STUFF

May 31, 2017, was the last time I plugged my phone into a wall outlet. That night, my first portable solar panel arrived, and my phone has been disconnected from the grid ever since.

As of my writing this on July 1, I’ve grown my solar production and storage to four panels and two power banks, and I haven’t felt worried about charging my phone at all (anymore). I’m someone who always promotes and advocates for solar energy, but until recently, I never used solar for myself. There came a point when I needed to take my advocacy a step further. As they say, if you’re going to talk the talk, you have to walk the walk. My mission is to show people the power of solar, and what better way to do that than to get some portable panels and show them off?

Such as in a restaurant after a day of golf...

Or, quite literally, while golfing...

My first purchase was one portable solar panel, for just about $50. I purchased it from a company called iNiCE, which, I’ve found, was probably the best company to buy these from for one simple reason: this version of the iNiCE solar panels has 10000 mAh (10 Amp hours) of internal energy storage, which is enough to recharge my Samsung Galaxy S7 a little more than three times (it would charge the iPhone 7 four to five times). This means that with the panel’s 2.4 Amp, 5 Volt output, it takes my phone about 1.2 hours to recharge from empty, which is the same as the wall plug in your house.

For some technical clarity, storage capacity is defined in terms of how long it takes a battery to recharge at 1 Amp/hour. A 10 Amp hours battery (10000 mAh), takes 10 hours to recharge. The iNiCE solar panel functions optimally at 2.4 Amps under direct sunlight, so, optimally, it takes 4.1 hours to charge (but efficiency decreases as the panel heats up, so allow time in the shade or find a way to cool the panel if you want to maintain peak performance in one sitting).

Trust me, these things get HOT.

Looking at other products, most competitors don’t have energy storage attached to their panels. This makes iNiCE convenient and reliable, because I can sit my solar panels out in the sun for a few hours and charge their batteries to full capacity. But if you put a competitor’s panel in the sun all day, it won’t store energy without a separate power bank attached.

That’s the other reason iNiCE panels are so convenient: you can charge them, then drain their batteries into a power bank. Granted, you’ll lose some energy in the transfer, but you won’t notice the loss without physically measuring it yourself.

Along with my first solar panel, I purchased a 26800 mAh power bank (26.8 Amp hours) from Anker, for $60. This power bank can charge my phone just about nine times at full capacity.

In the image below, the power banks are the black boxes behind the panels (each bank is 7 in X 3 in).

Alright, all the technical stuff is out of the way. Let’s get to the fun parts, shall we?

PART 2: SOLAR PANELS ARE FUN AND EXCITING

The sheer awesomeness of owning solar panels definitely put me on a high for a few days. I was, and still am, very conscious of putting my panels in the sun when it’s out. There’s just something so beautiful about opening the panels under the sun and seeing your phone screen light up, indicating a charge has begun. I can be out in the middle of my yard, driving down the road, playing golf, even going for a hike, and these work absolutely everywhere. Solar gives you that freedom. I’d even go so far as to say that solar panels should be a priority for anyone who goes long-term hiking and camping. No need to worry about your phone going dead in an emergency, ever.

The image below was taken as I was driving 9 hours to vacation.

It's just exciting. Every morning, when I need to, I wake up and put my solar panels in the sunlight to make use of every photon the day has to give. I eat breakfast, take a shower, go write my book in a coffee shop for a couple hours, come back, and the panel is fully charged. By then, it’s usually only 10 or 11 in the morning! Three full phone charges – more than enough for two days – all in the time it takes me to edit a few pages in my book and drink a few coffees.

Weeks of phone charge, that is.

You may be wondering about range anxiety, a common issue people bring up about electric cars (the general argument is that gas stations are everywhere, electric chargers are not. If you’re running low on charge, will you make it to an EV charger before you lose power?) I will admit, at first I was definitely using more power than I had available. Wasting time on the phone, bright screen, playing music and videos off the phone a lot, etc.

My restriction on power made me self-conscious of how much power I, as an individual, use every single day. And I consider myself to be on the low end of power usage. I know people who watch YouTube for hours. Play mindless games. Text nonstop. Even more power consuming, using Snapchat for most of their communication. Imagine how many full phone charges a day some people require, maybe even yourself!

I started limiting myself on my phone. I set time restrictions, restrictions on things I’d download, how long I’d use my phone for videos and music, how I would communicate with people. This conscious effort not only made me aware of how much energy I waste, but made me think, if I’m somewhere on the low to middle end of the spectrum, how much energy are we wasting when hundreds of millions of people are combined? What if we, the consumers, are responsible for higher costs of energy because it is so convenient to access, because we almost always near a wall outlet (except for the Starbucks I wrote my fourth book in. That place was a power outlet void).

Let me point something out:

Sunlight, if you didn’t notice, IS FREAKING EVERYWHERE.

As a guy trying to use sunlight to generate electrical energy, to prove the concept that solar panels work and are exciting and should be adopted en masse, I’ve already caught myself wishing for cloudy days. No pun intended, but that’s where I think solar power really shines. The fact that I can literally step outside and immediately charge my phone is amazing in itself, but is, in the end, just a cheap trick I started taking for granted in the first week of owning solar panels. The true proof of concept requires you to sustain yourself day after day like that, even on the cloudy ones.

Even in the rainstorms.

Even in the blizzards.

Even in the asteroid apocalypse.

If the sun is always out, there’s nothing to prove. It gets boring. You stop noticing where your energy is coming from. The real excitement--the stuff that gets your blood pumping--comes when the sun isn’t shining. Are you feeling it now, Mr. Krabs? When that first power level light drops down a bar, does your heart start racing, and your mind start thinking, “I need to recharge, NOW.”

Yes, the proof of concept for bringing solar energy to the world’s infrastructure is not in producing energy, but in storing energy. Fast fact: enough sunlight hits the earth every hour to power the world for an entire year. The trick is, do we have the ability to store that energy and use it later? And if we don’t have enough storage, can we use that energy quickly enough, and begin storing even more energy, in a way that is deemed a successful economic investment? Or is it being used simply to show off, to look flashy?

Ooooh, shiny: the only thing missing is some good ol’ Star Trek lens flare.

Above, I said there is simply too much energy for me to use. I’m not lying. As of writing this, I haven’t even touched my power banks in almost three weeks, because every day, I charge my panels when I’m writing, or at work, or literally driving around town. I am always collecting energy, but that doesn’t mean I’m using it. I know I can fill 100% of my storage capacity in less than two days of sunlight (15 hours of peak performance). But I use less than 4% of that energy per day, which means the rest of the energy is just…existing. Nobody is touching it. I would need to connect every phone in my house, every laptop, and every television, just to use most of the energy I can store each day. And the thing is, I can keep upgrading. I can keep adding storage. I know with my current 48 inches by 12 inches of surface area (all four panels combined), I can collect about 200 Amp hours every day. That’s 24 laptop charges, or 66 cell phone charges. I just need more storage to accomplish that.

Finding more ways to use this energy will help me pay off my investment. At the moment, if I charge my phone once a day, it will take me a whopping 400 years to pay off this entire system. You can see the problem. As I said above, I need to use as much energy as possible, as quickly as possible, to make the return on this investment worth it, and chop down that time. Fortunately, I’m conscious about this sobering fact, and when I see family and friends charging from a power outlet or computer, I immediately connect them to my panels. I also leave the panels in the open, with the cords already attached, to encourage them to connect to the panel instead of plugging into the wall. Going even further than that, I’m going to start offering for other people to plug into my panels and power banks in public, rather than outlets. It’s free energy. It’s there for everyone to use. So here, have some, on me!

Down the line, I plan to integrate my laptop, and build up to where I’m running lamps and appliances in my apartment on solar energy. Only then will the investments will pay off in years, even months, not centuries.

PART THREE: ENERGY USAGE AND AN ECONOMY OF SCALE

The typical phone is recharged twice to three times a day. On average, over the course of a year, that adds up to about $2.40 USD added to your electric bill. Not much money, right? And that money is spread out. You don’t charge just at your house. You charge at work. At the airport. At your friend’s house. At a restaurant. You, the individual, might not be paying that $2.40, but it exists collectively, a few cents here, a few cents there. Someone, somewhere, is paying for a portion of the energy that goes into your phone.

Imagine one million average people charging their phones each year. That’s $2,400,000 spent on energy. Now, let’s say they all drastically change their phone habits and charge just once a day. That price becomes a mere $800,000. By limiting their usage, one million people are saving $1,600,000. That’s an extra $1.60 in every person’s pocket, just by reducing the wasteful time we spend our phones. It might not seem like much on a small scale, but imagine that amplified across the world. The savings in just one year would be incredible.

And that’s just from the energy on a phone. Imagine lights. Refrigerators. Air conditioning. Computers. Televisions. The savings from reducing wasteful usage on a large scale would add billions, perhaps trillions, into the world’s economy.

Let me slow down a bit, because I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m sitting here saying that limiting our energy usage will save the world billions of dollars, but I’m supposed to be talking about solar panels. I made an investment. Sure, not using your phone will save you money, but you want to use your phone, obviously. So how does solar let you get your money’s worth?

In the first week of June, I went to the beach and charged my panel every day, letting my family connect, too, so I could drain the power each day and maximize my energy investment.

By the second week of June, I had four solar panels and two identical power banks. Altogether, 93.6 Amp hours of storage, enough to charge my laptop, from empty, 11 times. Altogether, this investment cost me $320. So again, you ask, “Is it worth the money?”

My answer is complicated.

You know what I’ve found? There is simply too much energy to collect, and I don’t have enough storage to collect it, nor do I have enough devices connected to the solar panels and power banks to make good use of all the energy I do have. As of my writing this, three solar panels and both power banks are 100% charged. The fourth panel is 50% charged, because I’ve had my phone hooked up to it all day during and after extensive use. I even had my panel charging in the middle of a restaurant to gain energy when I didn’t need it.

We take energy for granted. We see a wire that runs into our house, and we know that wire provides us with all the power we can ever hope for. But we never see the substation the energy comes from. We don’t see the coal or gas that gets burned. Energy is simply given to us, with the promise that it will always be there.

What about blackouts, then? When a substation overloads, or a massive storm rampages up the coast, hundreds, thousands, even millions of people can lose power, because suddenly, the single line into their home is no longer receiving energy from the source. Solar energy, and all renewables, I should add, is different because of storage. When you put solar panels on your house, you can also add a box that collects the energy to save surplus energy for later use, and it can be located inside the house, not out in the weather.

What happens when a storm takes out the neighborhood? You won’t lose power.

What happens when a tree smashes through a power line? You won’t lose power.

What happens when lightning strikes the substation, or a transformer explodes? You won’t lose power.

What happens when ice snaps electric wires? You won’t lose power.

There are still pitfalls—such as cloudy days, or not enough storage capacity—but solar energy, in the long term, is meant to be shared. Energy collected on one side of the world can be transferred elsewhere as needed. Live in Portland, Oregon, or the UK? You could be getting your energy from a location that receives copious amounts of sunlight, too much for that area to use. In fact, there are already entire islands running on solar energy, such as the American Somoa, Haiti, the island of Kauai in Hawai’i, and other small islands. And soon, following massive rolling blackouts, southern Australia will be powered by solar, thanks to an initiative by Tesla and Elon Musk that has led to a worldwide solar energy arms race. It is this kind of competition -- healthy competition that forges an energy revolution -- that is steadily rising as renewable energy takes center stage away from limited fossil fuels.

So there it is, the experience of my first month with portable solar panels. It’s been fun, and I’m looking forward to building up my solar array even more! I will continue to update as I experiment and grow, and hopefully one day my life will be running on free, clean, and infinite solar energy, and all the other renewable sources nature has to provide.

In just one month, these four small panels have begun to transform my life and energy awareness. What else are they capable of?

Do you want your own portable solar panels? I purchased mine HERE

Like the power banks I have? I got those HERE

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