#and that's fine. I grew up in a artistic family and I enjoy being able to appreciate art

[wayward-dreamer]

Life’s Lessons - The Wedding

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Female!Teacher!Reader

Word count: 14,000 (you were warned lol)

Summary: The big day has finally arrived for Dean and Y/N.

Warnings: Nothing but the fluffiest fluff that ever fluffed. Oh, and smut. Because it’s me lol. Swearing, Smut: Dirty talk, Oral sex (Female receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it people).

Music: Thank You by Led Zeppelin/instrumental cover by Vitamin String Quartet (wedding processional scene), Dance Me To The End Of Love by The Civil Wars (Dean and Y/N’s first dance scene).

Life’s Lessons Spotify Playlist

A/N: I really hope you all love this!!! As always, happy reading and enjoy! :)

Life’s Lessons Saga Masterlist

Divider by @firefly-graphics​​​.

Y/N blinked rapidly, her eyes adjusting to the light in the room as the late morning sun streamed in through the windows. Turning onto her back, she ran her hands over her face, willing herself to wake up. She turned her head to the side, sighing as she didn’t see her fiancé next to her. He was no doubt also waking up at that point, in his childhood home.

She smiled as she stared up at the ceiling, already anticipating what the rest of the day was going to be like for her and for him. She couldn’t wait to see him later, her heart already longing for him since the previous night after they separated.

Now, after months and months of planning, the big day had finally arrived.

Their wedding day.

Y/N threw the covers back, a kick in her step as she got up and walked into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and freshened up, and then left to go down to the kitchen, smelling the aromas of breakfast wafting up the stairs. She smiled as she walked in, seeing Charlie at the stove, scrambling eggs and frying bacon. The kitchen island had a spread of bagels, cream cheese, toast, jams, peanut butter and a box of Coco Puffs. As Charlie cooked, she looked up and smiled when she saw her come in.

“Morning, bride!” Her cheery exclaim made Y/N laugh as she walked over, hugging her.

Charlie, Meg, Jill and Y/N’s nieces had spent the night at the house, where they’d all be getting everything prepped before they went over to the venue. They were getting ready in the big ranch house, one room dedicated to them as another was for Dean and the groomsmen.

“Morning. This all looks amazing,” Y/N sighed, as her eyes glided over all the food.

“Figured you better eat a big breakfast because who knows when we’re going to eat next,” Charlie said, plating the eggs and bacon from the pans.

“This is true,” Y/N agreed as she sat on one of the stools at the island.

Meg and Jill came down, dressed in casual t-shirts and jeans, Mia in Jill’s arms as Evie took the stairs down carefully in front of her.

“Aunty Y/N!” she yelled as ran over, trying desperately to hop into Y/N’s lap. She reached down and pulled her up, a fake sluggish groan leaving her.

“You’re growing too fast, kiddo,” Y/N joked, kissing the top of Evie’s head.

Jill sat next to her and put Mia on her lap, putting some peanut butter on toast for her. Mia frowned; her eyes suddenly glowing as she looked at the box of Coco Puffs.

“Puffs,” she said, pointing to the box.

“Mia,” Jill warned, giving her a stern look. “You can’t eat only Coco Puffs for breakfast.”

“Can I have some mommy?” Evie asked, voice as sweet as honey, thinking she could wrap her mom around her finger.

Jill, unrelenting in her discipline, looked between her daughters. “No.”

They both pouted, and Jill feared they were both about to throw tantrums, but luckily, they were in the clear as they both sulked.

“Hey,” Y/N whispered in Evie’s ear. She reached into her own plate and took a small piece of bacon, offering it to the little girl. “Want some?”

Evie nodded enthusiastically, biting into the piece. She chewed it and smiled.

“Good, huh?” Y/N asked, smiling.

Evie kept nodding, smiling up at her aunt. “Do you like bacon, aunty Y/N?”

“I do, but you know who loves it even more?” Y/N said, lifting an eyebrow.

“Who?” Evie looked at her with big, curious eyes as she waited for an answer.

“Uncle Dean,” Y/N stated, smiling.

The little girl’s smile widened as she took a little more of the bacon, as everyone continued to eat around the island.

Y/N smiled as she continued eating, wondering what her beloved fiancé and soon to be husband was doing at that moment.

Dean lifted the coffee mug to his lips, taking a slow sip of the dark liquid. He breathed in, letting out a peaceful exhale as he sat down on the steps of the back porch at his childhood home. He smiled as he looked around the yard, remembering all the great times he and his family had there.

He let out a small huff as a smirk grew on his face, still not quite believing what day was upon him. He was getting married today. Him. If someone had told him years ago that he was going to meet the most incredible woman and get married, he would’ve laughed in their face. He was with someone else and marriage wasn’t on the cards. Then Y/N came and changed everything he thought to be true, showing him what was real. She was real.

Hearing footsteps behind him, he glanced up and smiled as his mom sat down next to him, a coffee mug of her own in hand.

“Doing okay?” she asked, smiling softly.

“So far, yeah,” he replied, with a small nod.

“Good,” she sighed, lifting her hand and rubbing his shoulder. “I know I don’t have to worry about this, but make sure you eat properly today, okay?”

“Yeah.” He smiled at her and turned his head to look back at the garden. “Mom?”

Mary took a sip of her coffee before she turned to him. “Yeah, sweetie?”

“Did you… did you ever think I’d get here?” he asked, a nervous smile tugging at his lips.

She smiled, knowing that was probably what his thought process had been all morning.

“Yeah, I did. I really did,” she replied, softly. “I knew it would take time… but I knew that when she got here, whoever she was, was going to knock you out.”

He laughed, nodding. “She really did.”

“I’m so glad you found her,” Mary said, quietly.

“I love her so damn much,” he whispered, his eyes closing as small doubts started to filter in. “I can’t screw this up.”

Mary shook her head, squeezing his shoulder to let him know she was there. “You won’t.”

Leaning over, she wrapped her arm around him and hugged him, tightly. He sighed, willing the doubts to leave his mind. He didn’t need them today.

“Thanks, mom,” he said, as they pulled away from each other.

“You’re welcome.” She moved in and kissed his cheek, quickly standing up from the steps. “Alright, we better eat and get this day rolling!”

He chuckled as he stood, wrapping his arm around her as they walked into the house.

He was more than ready to get on with the day and finally see Y/N.

Y/N’s fingers glided over the fabric; her smile radiant as she admired the wedding dress hanging up on the door in front of her. Pulling her silk robe tighter around her body, she stepped back to look at the full silhouette, a giddiness settling deep within her belly. She couldn’t believe that in just a couple short hours she was going to be marrying Dean, in front of all their friends and family.

She was so nervous she felt like she could throw up. She wasn’t having cold feet by any means, but her nerves came from the fact that something could go wrong, and she wouldn’t be able to stop it from happening. What if Dean changed his mind? She knew he loved her unconditionally and there was no rational thought behind what she was thinking, but she couldn’t help that her mind was an endless fount of doubt in that moment.

However, as she looked around the room she was about to get ready in, seeing her bridesmaids fixing some last-minute things, her mom looking after her nieces and all of the hair and make-up spread out on a table, the worries gave way to hope. Hope that everything was going to be fine.

“Y/N, we’re ready for you,” one of the make-up artists said, smiling at her.

Smiling back, she sat down in her chair in front of the mirror, letting out a deep breath as she looked at her reflection. She glanced to the side, seeing Charlie come up behind her as the woman doing her make-up started.

“How are you? Can I get you anything?” Charlie asked, taking Y/N’s hand in hers.

She shook her head, squeezing Charlie’s hand. “No, I’m good for now.”

“Okay,” Charlie said, kissing Y/N’s head.

Y/N smiled as she retreated, helping Jill tie the ribbons around the bridesmaids’ bouquets. Her eyes caught Meg coming into the room, shaking her head as she carried her dress bag and shoes, dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt. She had gone back to her apartment because like an idiot she had forgotten her heels and had come to the venue with Cas.

“Hey, I’m so sorry I’m late! Cas drives so fu-” she started, rushing over to Y/N and kissed her cheek, biting her lip as she was about to swear. She glanced back at Evie and Mia in the room, sighing in relief that they were preoccupied with their grandmother. “So freaking slow.”

Y/N laughed, waving her off. “You’re fine, we’ve still got plenty of time.”

“Okay, good,” Meg sighed, walking into the little bathroom attached to the room. A few minutes later, she emerged in her light pink silk robe, the same as Jill, Eileen and Charlie’s.

The make-up artist dabbed foundation on Y/N’s face, as Meg walked over and handed her a glass of water.

“I saw the guys getting ready, too,” Meg said, sitting down in the chair next to Y/N, as the other hair and make-up artist started on her make-up too. “Dean said to tell you not to worry so much and have fun.”

Y/N couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she thought about her soon to be husband being worried about the fact that she must be unnecessarily nervous.

“Is he okay?” she asked, closing her eyes as the woman started on her eye make-up.

“He is,” Meg replied, sipping her own water. “More than okay, just can’t wait to see you. He’s not gonna know what hit him when he sees you in the dress.”

As they completed Y/N’s look, her hair in an intricate bun and a few locks framing her face, she stood up and faced her bridesmaids, smiling as they all hugged and stood in a circle. Jill picked up the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket on the table, popping it open. She poured some into six glasses, their mom getting up from the armchair and joining them. They each took a glass and faced Y/N, who smiled brightly as Jill wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“A toast to my baby sister on her wedding day… I’m keeping this short and saving most of it for my matron of honor speech, but I love you so much and I’m so happy for you, that you found the perfect person to share your life with,” Jill said, kissing her forehead.

“I love you,” Y/N said, hugging Jill tight.

“To Y/N!” they all said, clinking their glasses together. They all sipped the sparkling liquid, sitting back down to relax a little before they had to put their dresses on.

Y/N sighed as she sat down, humming as she felt her mom rubbing soothing circles on her back. “Just relax,” Meredith said, smiling.

“Thanks, mom,” Y/N whispered, looking up at her mother.

“Are you alright?” Meredith asked, softly.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” Y/N replied, nodding. “I just can’t believe I’m finally here.” A smile tugged at her lips, butterflies erupting in her stomach as flashes of her life so far with Dean came to her.

“I still can’t ever forget you gushing about him when we went for drinks after work, only a few weeks into being in Lawrence,” Charlie chimed in, beaming as she took sips of her champagne.

“God, that somehow feels like it was forever ago and like it was yesterday at the same time,” Y/N stated, thinking back on that night. The one that solidified that there was something more between her and Dean than just friendship.

Evie came up to Y/N and climbed into her lap, wanting to sit with her aunt. She kissed the little girl’s head and stroked her soft hair, looking adorable in her little flower girl dress.

“Okay, what’s your favorite thing about Dean?” Meg asked, smirking.

Y/N glared at her playfully, shaking her head as she knew what her friend was thinking. She only thought about it for a second, knowing without a doubt what her favorite thing about Dean was.

“His heart,” she replied, simply. “His heart is so big, sometimes I think he doesn’t know what to do with all that love he’s got in there. He just cares about everyone close to him so much, and he’s always willing to help someone out. And… the way he cares about me, no one’s ever made me feel the way he does.”

“Oh my god, Y/N,” Charlie sighed, already getting teary. “I’m just so glad he has someone like you. I can’t even imagine where he’d be if you never came into his life.”

“Life definitely changed for the better, that’s for sure,” Y/N said, smiling.

“For all of us,” Meg added, clinking her glass with Charlie and Eileen’s.

“I’ll drink to that,” Eileen signed, winking at Y/N.

“Our oldest friend is marrying our best friend.” Charlie got up and walked over to Y/N, hugging her.

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” little Evie’s voice interrupted, as she looked at Jill from Y/N’s lap.

“Mom, can you take them to get something to eat?” Jill asked Meredith, as she was still in her robe.

“Of course,” Meredith replied, taking Evie’s hand as she hopped off Y/N. She picked up Mia who had been playing with her dolls and led them to the door.

“Meredith,” Eileen called out, getting the older woman’s attention. “Mary’s got Elliot with her in the dining hall, so you can join them there.”

“Perfect, thanks Eileen,” Meredith said, smiling at her before she took the girls out of the room.

Y/N stood up from the chair and walked across the room, looking out the window with her champagne glass in hand. The girls looked at her knowingly, giving her a little space before they had to start getting into the dresses. Taking out the folded paper from her bra, she opened it, her eyes scanning over the words she had written as vows to Dean. She smiled as she thought about how she would get to say them soon, about how he would say his and they would be united.

She couldn’t wait to see him and finally be his forever.

Dean’s hands shook as his fingers nimbly buttoned up his crisp white shirt. Letting out a large exhale, he closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down. His mind started becoming more and more clouded with worries as the time got closer to the ceremony, his self-deprecating thoughts circling around and causing him to doubt everything. He had told Meg when she left to join Y/N and the other bridesmaids to tell his soon-to-be wife not to worry about anything, and yet here he was, doing the exact same thing.

His groomsmen, Benny, Cas, Brian (who he had gotten to know really well and wanted him to be part of the ceremony to make things special for Y/N), and Sam who was his best man, were all dressed in their suits, laughing and chatting in the main room. He had told them to give him a minute, needing some time to himself as he got dressed. It was less than an hour now until he and Y/N finally became husband and wife. That thought made his heart soar but also made his stomach flip with nerves. What if he said or did something and he ruined everything? What if he got up to the altar and she didn’t walk down the aisle?

A knock on the door of the bathroom broke him from his negative thoughts. He tucked his shirt into his pants neatly, and gave a quick “yeah” as a signal for the person to come in.

“You decent?” he heard Sam ask, as the door opened slightly.

“Yeah,” he replied, gruffly as he fixed his shirt in the mirror.

Sam opened the door and came in, immediately sensing something was wrong with the expression on Dean’s face.

“You alright?” he asked, softly, not wanting anyone in the other room to hear them.

Dean scoffed, shaking his head. “Not really.”

“What’s going on?” Sam went into protective mode, ready to be there for Dean for whatever he wanted to say or needed at that moment.

“Nothing major, Sammy,” Dean sighed, shutting his eyes tightly. “Just can't get past the thoughts in my head.”

“Hey, look at me,” Sam said, turning Dean towards him and looking directly at him as he put his hands on shoulders. “Everything’s going to be fine. Whatever you’re thinking right now, none of it is going to happen. You’re going to be out there soon, and you’re going to marry Y/N and everything is going to work out the way it’s meant to.”

“Less than an hour,” Dean whispered. Shaking his head, he let out a small, bitter chuckle. “Still time for her to run.”

“She’s not going to run,” Sam told him, a confident smile on his face as he shook his head. “Just think about everything you’ve been through together and remember how much you love her. How much she loves you. Remember that and everything will be fine.”

Dean breathed in deep, and as he let it out, a smile came to his face knowing that Sam was right. He was letting those negative thoughts win again, and he was done letting them control him. It was his wedding day, a day he never thought he’d get to see, but couldn’t have been more excited to finally have. He couldn’t wait to see Y/N in her dress and to finally be hers forever.

“You’re right,” he said, nodding at his little brother. “Thanks, Sammy.”

“No problem,” Sam said, smiling. “So… shall we?” He gestured towards the other room, knowing time was ticking away and they needed to start moving.

“Yeah.” Dean gave him a confident nod, a wide grin gracing his face as he pushed away the self-deprecation and concentrated on Y/N and what was going to happen soon.

They walked into the other room that was occupied by his side of the wedding party, seeing them sitting around, empty tumbler glasses waiting on the table with a bottle of his favorite whiskey.

“There he is, man of the hour,” Benny said, his cheery Southern accent filling the room. He got up and picked up the bottle, cracking it open. Pouring a couple of fingers into each glass, he handed them over to each of the groomsmen and Dean.

“I’m going to save most of what I want to say in my speech later, but…” Sam started as he turned to his older brother. “I’m so happy for you, man, that you found the woman you’ve been waiting for.”

“To Dean!” They all cheered and clinked their tumblers together, drinking the amber liquid.

“Thanks, Sammy,” Dean said, tapping his little brother on the shoulder.

The door to the room opened, and Dean looked to his right, seeing his father and Y/N’s walk in. He gulped nervously as David walked over to him, a small smile on his face.

“How are you, sir?” Dean asked, offering his hand to shake.

“Good, but I think I should be asking you that,” David replied, shaking his hand with a small laugh.

“Better now.” Dean didn’t add anything else, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that he was having doubts just a few minutes before. Taking a sip of his whiskey, Dean looked up at David, a small, nervous smile on his face.

“Sir, I… I wanted to thank you. For trusting me with Y/N. I promise you that I’ll always take care of her,” he told David, his voice firm with conviction.

David smiled, nodding. “I’m glad to hear it.”

He walked forward, putting his arms around Dean into a hug, one that solidified the bond between their families. Pulling away, they smiled at each other before David stepped back, leaving Dean to finish getting ready.

“Hey,” Sam got his attention as he walked over. “I’m just going to quickly check in on Elliot and then see Eileen. Are you going to be okay?”

“Don’t worry about me, Sammy,” Dean stated, smirking. “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” Sam nodded and retreated back, walking across the room and shutting the door behind him.

Dean looked at himself in the mirror by the window, trying to tie his bowtie properly. He gave it a few tries, growling in frustration as he couldn’t get it right, his hands started to shake again.

“Here, let me,” he heard his dad say, as he walked over and turned Dean towards him.

“Thanks, dad,” Dean sighed, lifting his head so John could see properly.

“No problem.” John smiled as he started tying the bowtie for Dean. “I remember doing this for you for prom.”

Dean huffed a small laugh, lifting an eyebrow. “Bet you never thought you’d be doing it for my wedding.”

John smiled, knowingly. “I did think I’d be doing it. I always knew you’d get here.”

He fixed the bowtie and then folded the collar back down. “All done.”

He picked up Dean’s suit jacket and held it up, pulling it up onto his shoulders once he put his arms through. Dean fixed it to fit properly on his shoulders, frowning a little as it felt weird to be wearing a suit.

“It’s just for a few hours,” John said, knowing what his son was thinking by the expression on his face.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, as he pinned the small flowers to the lapel of his suit.

“Dean,” John said, getting his son’s attention. Taking out a small box from his pants pocket, he handed it over to his son, a proud smile on his face. “I have something for you.”

With a confused look on his face, Dean took the box from his dad. Opening it, his eyes widened as he saw a pair of old, silver cufflinks sitting in there, immediately recognizing them.

“Grandpa’s,” he whispered, breathing heavily as a wave of emotion came over him.

“He’d want you to have them,” John said, smiling as he took them from Dean, taking them out and putting the box back in his pocket. He lifted Dean’s left hand and attached them to the end of the sleeve, repeating the action on the other.

“Thanks, dad,” Dean said, smiling.

John shook his head, pulling Dean into a tight hug. “You don’t have to ever thank me, Dean. I’m so proud of you.”

The younger Winchester’s eyes closed, his smile growing as he hugged his father. All his life, he had looked up to his dad, wanting to be just like him. While things had happened in the past and he saw a different side to him, Dean knew his dad worked hard to give them a life they deserved, one filled with joy and laughter, all while overcoming obstacles along the way and becoming a stronger unit because of it. He knew that despite some troubles, he saw a good and loving marriage between his parents, and one he hoped he would have with Y/N.

Y/N stepped into her dress, standing up straight as Charlie and Jill pulled it up and slipped the straps over her arms. The sheer low cut back came down to a zip and button closure, which Jill did for her, smiling over her shoulder. Y/N fixed the front, making sure the low front was secure over her breasts, smoothing her hands down the front of the dress. She caught Mary’s eyes through the mirror as she stood behind her with Elliot, smiling at her through teary eyes. Meredith came over, the veil carefully cradled in her arms as she stood behind Y/N. She watched as her mom clipped the veil into her hair just above her bun, fluffing it to fall delicately over the silhouette of her dress. Her mom had a few tears fall down her face, and Y/N was trying desperately not to cry in that moment.

“You look so beautiful,” Meredith choked out, looking at her younger daughter.

“Thanks, mom,” Y/N said, her voice shaking.

“Okay, no crying yet, we can’t ruin our make-up,” Charlie added, wiping lightly under her eyes, avoiding her make-up.

Everyone laughed and tried to take breaths, making sure they didn’t have to re-do any of their make-up. Y/N smiled as she clipped on her grandmother’s silver bracelet to her wrist, and put on the diamond drop earrings, completing the look. She spied little Evie coming up next to her, looking at her with big, round eyes full of wonder.

“Aunty Y/N, you look like a princess,” she said, smiling up at her aunt.

Y/N laughed a little as she bent down slightly, kissing her head. “Thank you, honey. You look so beautiful.”

Evie blushed as she giggled, which melted Y/N’s heart even more. She and Mia had matching off-white flower girl dresses with pastel pink sashes around the waist tied into bows at the back, both complete with matching headbands and shoes. As Y/N adjusted the front of her dress, a knock at the door alerted everyone.

Eileen opened the door, smiling as Sam walked in and kissed her, quickly. “Everything okay with Elliot?”

“Yeah, he’s great,” she replied, looking up at him as she bounced their son lightly in her arms. A smile spread across her face as she nodded towards Y/N. “Turn around.”

Sam turned, suddenly in awe as he looked at his soon-to-be sister-in-law. “Y/N. Oh my god.”

Y/N laughed, twirling the dress slightly. “Think Dean will like it?”

“Like? He’s going to lose his mind,” Sam replied, shaking his head as he beamed at her.

“How is he?” she asked, a longing in the tone of her voice. She couldn’t wait to see him.

“He’s good,” Sam replied, a little too quickly. She knew something was wrong.

“He’s freaking out.” It wasn’t a question considering she knew how Dean’s mind worked.

“He was, but I talked him down. He’s good now, I swear,” Sam promised, firmly.

She nodded but she knew she needed to do something, somehow, to convince him that things were okay and to not freak out.

“Mom, can you hand me that note pad and a pen,” Y/N said, gesturing to the items she wanted on the table in the far corner.

Meredith brought them over, and Y/N immediately scribbled something on it, quickly. Tearing the page off, she folded it and handed it over to Sam.

“Give him that when you get to the altar, okay?” she asked, smiling.

“Sure thing,” he replied, holding it securely in his hand. “We’re going to head out there.”

“See you soon.” She couldn’t keep the smile off her face, more than ready to go out there and marry the man of her dreams.

“See you soon,” he repeated, winking at her.

He turned his mom and offered his arm to her, Mary taking it immediately with her own wink at Y/N. He took Elliot from Eileen and carried him in his other, all of them leaving the room and shutting the door, lightly.

Y/N smiled as she turned back to the mirror, taking in her full appearance. It was almost time and she couldn’t be happier.

John, Mary, Sam and Dean sat under the trees, in the front row of chairs all lined up and starting to be filled as the guests arrived. Elliot sat in Mary’s lap, looking around curiously at everything. They all looked out past the arch covered in flowers for Dean and Y/N to stand under, past the trees and saw the lake, the sun shining off the surface of the water on the most beautiful and perfect day they could’ve hoped for the wedding. As he sat with his family, Dean couldn’t help but think about all the memories the Winchesters had made there.

He stood up from the chair, watching as people arrived. He saw Jody and the girls arrive, smiling brightly at them. She blew him a kiss and he laughed, blowing one back. After them, he spotted Donna, her blonde locks blowing slightly in the breeze. She saw him, circled her finger in the air to gesture to the suit, and mouthed a “nice!”. He smirked as he winked at her, causing her to laugh before she sat down next to Jody. He looked next to him, seeing Sam looking down at his watch.

“Five minutes,” he said, looking up at Dean.

Dean let out a breath, nodding. “Guess we better stand.”

“Don’t worry, honey. Everything’s going to be great,” Mary said, quickly standing up and kissing his cheek. She held Elliot in her arms, making sure he was sitting in her lap properly as she took her seat again.

Dean stood up under the arch with the female officiant who was already there, Sam standing next to Dean as the groomsmen stood off to the side near the trees, waiting for the bridesmaids. Remembering what Y/N had given him, Sam reached into his pocket and took out the note, nudging Dean.

“I saw Y/N earlier, asked me to give you this,” he whispered, handing over the paper.

Taking it, Dean opened the paper. He had calmed down considerably since Sam spoke to him in the dressing room, but when he read the words on the paper in Y/N’s pretty handwriting, he felt the weight completely lift off his chest.

Don’t be scared.

I love you.

He felt tears prick his eyes, but he cleared his throat and folded the paper into his pants pocket, blinking rapidly to stop them from flowing. Seeing those words was exactly what he needed at that moment.

He was more ready than he ever was to get the show on the road.

Y/N, Jill, David and Meredith walked up the gravel path, the girls behind them as they held Y/N’s dress up off the ground as she walked. She was doing considerably well in her sparkly, pointed-toe heels, but she knew by the time the reception rolled around she would be taking them off. She didn’t care, however, as she was just more than ready to see her man.

“I haven’t told you yet, but-” David whispered, leaning into her. “You look so beautiful, honey.”

“Thanks, dad,” she whispered back, kissing his cheek.

They made it to the end of the path, hidden behind the trees so that no one would see them.

Meredith turned to Y/N, cupping her face in her hands, her eyes blurry with tears. “I love you, so much.”

“I love you, too, mom,” Y/N choked out, blinking to keep her tears at bay.

They kissed each other’s cheeks and hugged, Meredith quickly walking down to the clearing, down the aisle and taking her seat in the front row on Y/N’s side. She looked at Dean and smiled, getting a smile back from him as he waited.

Y/N watched as Cas, Benny and Brian walked over to them, as they stood next to their respective bridesmaid. Cas took Charlie’s arm, Benny took Meg’s and Brian took Eileen’s as they lined up in front of Jill, Evie and Mia. Each of the bridesmaids stood with their bouquet of Oriental Lilies, while her nieces had their little baskets filled with light pink rose petals, the only roses Y/N had for the wedding. She stood behind them, as David took his place on her right.

“Ready?” he asked, looking at her.

“So ready,” she replied, smiling wide. She laughed a little, shaking her head. “Just please, don’t let me fall.”

“Never,” he whispered, kissing her temple. Offering his arm, Y/N wrapped her right one around, holding her bouquet of Calla Lilies tight in her left hand.

Before she knew it, the music started from the speaker off to the side of the altar, and it was show time. Taking a deep breath in, she released it as she watched the bridal party walk out, ready for her turn down the aisle.

The soft violin started from the hidden speaker, the tune immediately recognizable to Dean as Thank You by Led Zeppelin, but instrumental.

He felt all his emotions beginning to rise to the surface, but he tried to keep himself calm as he watched the bridal party come down the aisle. Cas and Charlie were first, both sharing a smile with him. Cas took his place next to Sam, as Charlie couldn’t resist coming up and quickly hugging Dean, kissing his cheek. Benny and Meg walked in behind them, and he fist bumped his other best friend and work partner before he took his place next to Cas. Brian and Eileen followed and stood at their respective sides, waiting for the rest of the party.

Dean watched as Jill walked down, winking at him as she walked over to the left side, standing in front of Charlie. All the guests admired and ‘awed’ at Evie and Mia, as they dropped the petals from their little baskets onto the covered ground. They went and sat down with Meredith, after having done their duty as flower girls.

The music began to soar as Y/N held onto her father’s arm tightly, walking slowly with him towards the aisle. She looked at her father, giving him a little nod to let him know she was ready. She felt tears collect in her eyes as she started walking, seeing everyone standing and smiling at her. Everyone who was special to them was there, and she was so grateful.

Just as the tempo changed, Dean felt a catch in his throat as he finally saw Y/N, on the arm of her father. He didn’t think he could be as speechless as he was at that moment. Time completely stood still, as all he could see was her. He had seen Y/N dressed up several times, on so many occasions that were special to them, where she had looked absolutely beautiful. However, the vision of her gliding towards him like an angel, with the most radiant smile on her face, was an image that would stay with him until the day he took his last breath. He was overwhelmed, willing himself to keep composure, but he knew he was failing as a tear slipped down her face.

Y/N smiled, feeling the tears threatening to fall down her face as she saw Dean looking at her. At that moment, she saw no one else. He looked so incredibly handsome in his suit, but his face, with a smile of his own and his eyes glassy, was the most beautiful sight she could have seen. As she got closer, she saw a tear roll down his right cheek, and she felt one of her own escape, as overcome by this moment as he was.

Y/N stopped at the end of the aisle, as Dean stepped towards her. They looked into each other’s eyes, both of them smiling as their vision blurred behind unshed tears. She turned to her dad and kissed his cheek, his own smile speaking volumes as he took her hand and placed it in Dean’s, giving him a small nod that held the weight of the moment. They continued to look at each other as David sat down with Meredith, who was already a mess of emotions.

Dean and Y/N stepped closer to the officiant, turning to face each other as they held hands. He shook his head, his eyes gliding up her dress and looking into hers, a small smile on his face as he tried to let her know with a look how beautiful she was, as words were something he couldn’t manage in that moment. He had to save his voice for his vows, which were going to be even more nerve-wracking now. The music turned off and the officiant, Cindy, looked between them, ready to start the ceremony. The interpreter stood off to the side, closer to Eileen so that she could see properly. Cindy was a short woman with greying hair, thick black glasses and the sunniest personality they both had ever seen, smiling as she began the ceremony.

“Dearly beloved, we gathered here today to witness and celebrate the marriage of Y/N Y/L/N and Dean Winchester.”

Dean breathed deeply, his eyes never leaving Y/N’s as did the same. Cindy went on to see a few things she learnt about them as a couple as she got to know them before this day, both of them beaming at each other as she spoke.

“So, let’s get these two married, shall we?” she asked, laughing.

Everyone joined in, with cheers and claps all around, including the bridal party behind Dean and Y/N.

“Dean and Y/N have each prepared their own vows which they’ll share now, before I ask them a couple of questions. Y/N, why don’t you go first,” Cindy said, looking at her.

Y/N nodded, turning slightly and taking the piece of paper that Jill handed to her. She opened it and looked at Dean, smiling at him as he looked at her intently. She looked down at her words, tears threatening to fall.

“Dean.” She glanced at him again quickly, before concentrating on her words, not wanting to mess up. “For a long time, I wondered if I’d ever find someone who I could truly be myself with. Someone who would protect me and never hurt me, someone who would never let me fall. Someone who would challenge me. Someone who would love me unconditionally, without any selfish gain. For a moment, it felt as if I’d never find it. That I’d never get out of that dark place that I was in. Then, life prompted me to make the greatest decision of my life; to move to Lawrence, Kansas of all places. It may have seemed like a strange choice, but it was ultimately the right one, because that choice led me to finding you.”

She looked up at him, a tear now rolling down her face as she smiled through them. He was barely hanging on, and it warmed her heart to see all the love in his eyes.

“Dean, You got me out of that dark place. You’re my light, and I promise to always be yours too. I promise to always be your rock, to tell you just how much I respect you and appreciate you, to be your protector through any obstacle that comes our way, and to never doubt you or let you doubt yourself. I promise to love you forever, Dean Winchester.” As she finished, she looked up to see Dean subtly bend his head and wipe a tear away, turning back to her with a smile.

Cindy gave Y/N a wink before turning to Dean, a small nod letting him know it was his turn. He turned to Sam, who gave him his vows with a small smile, tapping his upper arm before Dean turned back to Y/N. He opened the folded paper, taking a deep breath as he hoped that his words would get his point across.

“It’s a good thing we gotta write these down, because I’m not good with words,” he said, looking up from the paper before he read it. “Even what I wrote might not be great, so-”

He stopped rambling as he felt Y/N’s hand slip into the one that wasn’t holding the paper, grasping it tightly. He looked at her and saw her smiling, her eyes holding all the promises she had just made. He smirked at her, knowing he could do this.

“I never thought of myself as the “get married” type of guy,” he started, looking intently at his vows. “Not for any other reason than I didn’t think it was on the cards for me. Then… right when I thought life was dealing me the short straw… I found you.” He looked up at Y/N, beaming at her as she did the same, her eyes watery.

“Y/N, you came into my life when I needed you most. You helped me understand what it meant to be supported, appreciated and respected. What it meant to be loved. You helped me get out of the cage I was in, and you helped me realize that I deserve better than what I had. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier that that “better” was you. You… you saved me,” he said, his voice hitching as he looked up at her, his eyes shining. He cleared his throat from the emotions he was feeling, looking down at his paper again. “Y/N, I promise you… I’ll always be there to tell you how much you mean to me, how much I appreciate you and respect you. I’ll always support you the way you have with me, and I’ll be your shield any time you feel that dark cloud coming in. I’ll never let anyone, or anything hurt you. I’m going to love you for the rest of this life and into the next, sweetheart.”

“Dean,” she gasped, shaking her head in wonder of her soon-to-be husband.

“Was that okay?” he asked, softly, nerves reflected on his features as he looked at her.

“It was beautiful,” she whispered.

“That was amazing, wasn’t it?” Cindy asked, receiving several cheers from the guests.

Dean and Y/N looked at their families, seeing both their mothers incredibly overwhelmed as they wiped away their tears.

“Alright, let’s do this,” Cindy said, smiling. “Can we have the rings?”

Jill and Sam both handed the rings to Y/N and Dean respectively, both of them smiling as Dean took her left hand. They couldn’t believe how close they were to being married.

“Dean,” Cindy started, turning to him. “Do you take Y/N Y/L/N to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, loving and honoring her all the days of your life, until death parts you?”

Dean smiled as images of Y/N when they first met on that fateful day and every incredible moment between them since then, flashed before his eyes. “I do,” he said, with more confidence than he had ever had in his life.

He slid the platinum wedding band onto her ring finger, sitting on top of her engagement ring. Y/N looked at him, her eyes never wanting to leave his as Cindy turned to her. She asked the same question of Y/N, who refused to look anywhere else than at the love of her life standing in front of her.

“I do,” Y/N stated, never breaking eye contact with the wonderful man looking back at her, as flashes of their life so far crossed her mind. She looked down briefly, sliding the matching platinum band onto his finger.

The anticipation crept up within them, more than ready to be declared husband and wife.

“Well, I guess it’s time then, isn’t it?” Cindy laughed, looking between both of them. “By the power invested by the state of Kansas, in front of your dear family and friends, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Dean,” Cindy declared, raising an eyebrow as she smiled at Dean.

Leaning forward, Dean’s arms wrapped around Y/N’s waist as he pulled her as close as he could. Her arms wrapped around his neck, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss. It was as if time stood still, as if every kiss until this one was only a teaser, their souls now connected forever. Everyone stood up and clapped, cheered and called out their congratulations, but the couple only heard them briefly.  After a moment, he pulled away and gave her the most beautiful smile she had ever seen on his face. They gave each other a few more short kisses, before they turned and smiled at everyone.

“Family and friends, I am delighted to present for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Dean Winchester!” Cindy yelled, clapping excitedly.

Dean took Y/N’s hand, both of them making their way down the aisle, waving at their families and promising to see them soon. They walked off behind the trees, a moment alone before the photographs started. Dean cupped her face, pulling her into another passionate kiss.

“I love you so much,” he whispered between kisses.

“I love you, too,” she whispered back, desperate to keep kissing him.

“You’re my wife,” he said, laughing happily as he bit his lip.

“You’re my husband,” she sighed, kissing him again.

Their lips locked in a passionate exchange, not wanting to let go of each other. They stayed in each other’s embrace for a few moments, eventually pulling away from each other, knowing they needed to get to the next part of the day.

“Shall we?” he asked, looking deep into her eyes.

“Absolutely,” she replied, kissing him once more.

He offered her his arm, ready to take her to the photographer and start the rest of their special day. Y/N smiled and hooked her arm around Dean’s, strolling down the path with him as they held each other close.

The photographs took a bit of time, getting everyone coordinated and organized. They took family photos, with the bridal party, in every combination they could manage, before their photographer took pictures of just Y/N and Dean. He took them at more natural points, and based on that, they were excited to see what they would look like.

Once they were finished, they walked down the path and over to the reception, small chandeliers hanging from the top of the tent, and beautiful flower arrangements at the tables. Everyone turned to look at them and cheered as they came in, Dean taking Y/N’s hand and twirling her around the empty space that would be used as a dance floor. They had decided to get their first dance in, not wanting to pause the reception later and be the centre of attention even more than they already were.

Dean smiled at Y/N as he held her hand, pulling her in close as his other one rested on her hip. They looked into each other’s eyes, the song they had chosen floating in through the speakers. Y/N had told him about it, and after listening to it, he was on board straight away. It may not have been classic rock, but it was a classic in its own right and the cover that they had chosen of it suited the feel of their wedding.

Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin

Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in

Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove

And dance me to the end of love

Please dance me to the end of love

“You look so beautiful,” he stated, smiling down at her. “I couldn’t get that out when I saw you.”

“Well, now I can tell you how handsome you look, too,” she said, softly.

There may have been people around them watching as they danced, but their eyes were only on each other as they moved to the music. He leaned his forehead against hers, both of them wearing identical smiles as they swayed slowly. Tilting his head slightly, he kissed her nose softly, bringing her in closer.

“I can’t wait to spend forever with you,” she whispered, looking into his eyes.

“I can’t wait either, sweetheart,” he whispered back, leaning in and kissing her, passionately.

They pulled away after a moment, her head leaning against his shoulder as he rested his cheek against her head, both content as they closed their eyes.

Oh let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone

Oh let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon

Oh show me slowly what I only know the limits of

And dance me to the end of love

Please dance me to the end of love

Suddenly, he took her hand and spun her, a squeal leaving her as she started laughing. Pulling her in, he laughed as they held each other close.

Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on

And dance me very tenderly and dance me very long

We're both of us beneath our love, and both of us above

And dance me to the end of love

Won't you dance me to the end of love

The guests cheered and clapped as the song ended, Dean and Y/N smiling at everyone as they made their way to their table, as everyone found their respective ones as well. The food had started being served, and the couple had never been more thankful, having been dying to eat all day. The little snacks throughout the day had only served to make them hungrier. The food was incredible, and the drinks were amazing. As the sun had set, the fairy lights all around the tent shined as did the chandeliers, bathing the area in a soft glow. As waiters took away plates and glasses, others came around with glasses of champagne, ready for the speeches. Dean had his arm around Y/N as it rested on her chair, both of them smiling as they saw her father stand up.

“Evening everyone, I’m David. Y/N’s father,” he started, looking around the tent at the guests. “Well, I hope you know who I am, otherwise well done for sneaking into an expensive meal unnoticed.”

There were laughs around the area, as Y/N’s jaw dropped. She and her mother looked at each other, shaking their heads as Jill giggled, sitting on the other side of Y/N. Dean chuckled lightly, nodding as he sipped his water.

“I just want to welcome you all and thank you for being here for this incredible occasion, of my daughter’s wedding. Meredith and I want to thank John and Mary as well, for being so welcoming of us and our side from New York. I know that Y/N’s talked about how wonderful you both are, and we’ve definitely seen it, so thank you,” he continued, gesturing to Dean’s parents who sat next to David and Meredith.

“Y/N, Dean… congratulations to you both. Y/N, honey, your mother and I are so proud of you and the woman you’ve become. God knows you’ve been through a lot, but you came out of it more courageous, stronger, and more determined to keep fighting. Dean, the day we met you we got to see just how much you care for our daughter. We knew without a doubt that she was going to be safe and provided for. So… I know that as much as it kills me to let my daughter go… She’s going to be happy and well looked after. As long as you remember the cardinal rule of marriage: one person is always right, and the other person is you,” he said, making everyone laugh again.

“So, I know we’ve all been emotional today, I mean even the cake is in tiers,” David said, causing some cringing from his wife and daughters. Dean pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh as his wife shook her head at her dad.

“But once these speeches are done, let’s have some fun, okay?” David smiled, lifting his glass. “To Dean and Y/N, I know that your relationship is already a strong one, so may it continue to always be.”

Mary stood up, already a mess of tears as she tried to dap them away. She smiled over at the couple and took a deep breath as she prepared to talk to them.

“I want to start off quickly by thanking everyone for coming today as well. I look around now and see so many people who are so important to our family, and it just warms my heart to see you all here, and to see some other very important people who have now joined our family,” she started, looking from David and Meredith to Y/N. “I’m so happy for my son, who’s found someone who makes his world brighter. Y/N, thank you for seeing all of the good things in my son and for loving him for all of it and more. I’m so glad you came into his life, and therefore, ours. There’s not much I can say to you as advice because I already know how much you both care for each other, but as long as that remains constant, as long as you’re there for each other, support each other, love each other… I know you’re both going to be happy forever.” She blew a kiss to them as she sat down, smiling as John kissed her cheek.

Dean watched his parents and saw how much they still loved each other, even after all the things they had been through and all the years together. If he and Y/N were half as happy as they are, he knew they would be perfectly fine.

Jill stood up from her seat next to Y/N, as everyone at their table adjusted to face her. She smiled down at Y/N, who returned it, her eyes never leaving her older sister.

“Hey everybody, I’m Jill, Y/N’s sister. I’m going to ask that you all bear with me because I may cry as I talk about the greatest little sister a girl could ask for,” Jill stated, already getting choked up before even starting her speech. “While she may have had a mean streak when we were younger, like the time she shaved my eyebrow off while I was sleeping-”

There were audible gasps and laughs around the tent, as Y/N shook her head, ready to argue.

“That was because she spat toothpaste in my hair because I bent down at the sink before her!” she yelled, causing everyone to laugh.

“Which is tame compared to the eyebrow,” Jill countered, laughing. “Dean… you better watch out.”

Dean choked on his water, coughing slightly as he laughed. Y/N playfully glared at him, causing him to press his lips together to stop laughing.

“Anyway, while that may have happened… none of it changed how amazing a person she is. With everything she’s been through, everything she’s fought for, and everything she’s accomplished… I’m so constantly in awe of her and the incredible force that she is,” Jill added, looking down at her sister, tears in her eyes.

“When she told me about Dean and how she was starting to fall for him, I thought about how I’ve never heard her sound like this. She had been in love before, but never quite like this. More than anything, it was how she spoke about Dean that struck me. How much respect she had for him, how in awe she was of him, how crazy she was about him. From that, I knew that there was something there that was special. Meeting Dean only proved that further,” Jill said, looking over at her new brother-in-law. “I saw how much he reciprocated all of those things back to Y/N, and that was when I truly knew… that this guy, well he was the real deal.”

Dean smiled at her, a little nod between them to acknowledge that Jill had always approved and would always continue to do so.

“So, Dean… welcome to our family. Thank you for taking care of my sister the way you have so far… I know she’s in safe hands and you’ll always continue to do so,” Jill ended her speech, sitting back down and leaning over to Y/N, hugging her tightly.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you, too,” Y/N whispered back, kissing her cheek.

Sam stood up next to Dean, standing in such a way that Eileen could read his lips as he spoke. He had been signing for her so far, Eileen having refused an interpreter at the reception as they wouldn’t have needed him for very long, unlike the ceremony. Sam cleared his throat, looking around at everyone before he started.

“Hi everyone, I’m Sam, Dean’s younger brother and best man. So, I had thought a lot about what to say today, since Dean asked me to be his best man, actually. I thought about how I should say nice things about my big brother, but then everything I thought about didn’t feel like enough to tell you all how great he really is,” Sam said, looking around at the guests before he looked at Dean.

Dean looked at Sam, a small smile on his face as he wasn’t used to his little brother saying things about him.

“My entire life, Dean’s protected me. I didn’t always like it; in fact, sometimes I really wasn’t appreciative of everything he did for me. Then of course there were the stupid pranks he pulled on me. I’m sure most people know the Nair incident, but let’s not bring up old wounds… let’s just say, Dean got into a lot of trouble for that one,” Sam continued. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at his brother, as people laughed, shook their heads in disbelief as they remembered the incident, while others looked around wondering what happened.

“Still can’t believe you did that,” Y/N whispered, shaking her head at Dean.

“Well, clearly we’re made for each other, what with shaving off Jill’s eyebrow,” he whispered back, smirking.

She giggled and leaned in, kissing him softly.

“Then as I grew up, I realized that despite the pranks, despite the constant annoying comments about my hair, the bad singing in the car, the same five albums playing over and over every time we went somewhere, the way that he always had to have the last word… through all of that, the fact that he always there when I needed him… it was the one thing, in the whole world, that I could always count on. It’s the only thing I’ve ever known that was true,” Sam said, clearing his throat as he felt the emotion rising up from his chest.

Dean smiled softly, letting a low exhale, deeply touched by everything his little brother was saying.

“That’s why I know without even a shred of doubt, that Y/N…” Sam looked at her as he spoke his next words. “Dean’s going to be there for you through anything for as long as you’re both living on this planet.”

Y/N smiled, her heart skipping a beat at Sam’s beautiful words.

“And yeah, sure, he’s going to probably piss you off. You know who to vent to when that happens,” Sam laughed as he gestured to himself. Dean shook his head as he annoyedly glared at Sam, causing Y/N to chuckle, as others joined in.

“But he’s never going to let you down,” Sam continued, smiling. “And I have to thank you too, Y/N. I told you the first time I met you that you’re good for Dean, and I’ve never seen anything to tell me otherwise, for as long as you’ve been together. For a while there, he was lost, but you found him and brought him back to being the person that he is and always has been. I know I speak for everyone when I say we’ll be thanking you for that for years to come.”

A small tear rolled down Y/N’s face, causing her to dab it away with the tissue in her hand.

“So, without me going on and on, let’s raise our glasses to the bride and groom,” Sam announced, lifting up his glass of champagne, as all the guests did the same. “I hope you both have an amazing life together, counting on the things that are honest and true. To Dean and Y/N!”

“To Dean and Y/N!” everyone cheered, clapping and sipping champagne.

Dean and Y/N clinked their glasses together, kissing softly before they each took a sip of the sparkling liquid. They both got up from the table and thanked everyone, Y/N hugging her dad then Mary for their beautiful words. Dean went over to Sam, tapping him on the shoulder.

“That was some speech, little brother,” he said, smirking.

“Yeah, I tried to mix it up,” Sam stated, laughing slightly. “Tried not to make it too chick-flick for you.”

“Thanks for that.” Dean chuckled slightly, before he smiled at him. “What you said about Y/N though… it was great, man.”

“Well, she’s great,” Sam affirmed, looking between Dean and Y/N, who was talking with Mary.

“Yeah, she is,” Dean said, quietly as he smiled, watching her. He turned to Sam and gestured to come closer, both of them hugging as they clapped each other on the back.

“Thanks, Sammy.” Dean smirked as he pulled away from his brother, grasping his shoulder.

“Don’t mention it,” Sam said, smiling as he patted Dean’s arm.

They went their separate ways, as Dean and Y/N continued to make their way around and meet everyone. He hugged Mary when he got around to seeing his parents, not before receiving a quick kiss from Y/N as she walked past him to continue socializing with others.

“How do you feel?” John asked.

Dean grinned. “I feel… amazing.”

“Told you you’d get through it,” John said, softly as he smiled.

“Thanks, dad.” Dean smiled at his dad, hugging him.

“Dean!” he heard his groomsmen call out to him, making him pull away from his father.

“It’s okay, we’ll catch up later,” John said, a small chuckle leaving him.

Dean smiled and then walked over to his friends, seeing Y/N head over to them too. He leaned down and kissed her, passionately once they reached each other.

“Alright, let’s dance,” she said, taking his hand in hers.

“Dean dancing? This I gotta see,” Sam teased, smirking.

“Hey, I’ll have you know that my new sister-in-law taught me a few things,” Dean stated, tilting his head over at Jill.

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really? When?”

“Really, and a few days ago, when she got here,” Dean replied, smirking.

“Well, let’s go then!” she yelled, laughing as she dragged him onto the dance floor.

Most of the guests were dancing, drinking and having an amazing time, while others mingled, talked to people they hadn’t caught up with yet or hadn’t met ever. Everyone was having the time of their lives, none more so than Dean and Y/N. She laughed in surprise and excitement as he danced with her to a faster Elvis song, loving to see him so carefree. After a few songs, they stopped in the middle to cut the cake, everyone gorging on the delicious sweet. She ran her finger through some of it on the surface of the knife, offering it to him. She felt her cheeks heat up as he sucked on her finger, winking at her.

“Little preview for later?” she asked, smiling.

“Maybe,” he replied, smirking.

The night continued on, the women all dancing together when “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” came on. Dean was having a conversation with Bobby but kept getting distracted as he looked over at Y/N, dancing with Jill, Charlie and Meg. Evie and Mia bopped at their feet, being very careful not to step on aunty Y/N’s dress. Dean quickly finished talking to Bobby, promising to catch up with him in a few days time, before making his way to the dance floor.  He roared as he swooped in, picking up Mia and spinning her around. She laughed and squealed, holding him tightly as he joined everyone. The song changed over to “Dancing in the Dark”, as more people joined in. Jill and Brian danced together, as the girls danced with their aunt and uncle.

“Uncle Dean, guess what?” Evie yelled over the music.

“What’s up, kiddo?” Dean looked down at her, taking her hand and spinning her around, as he held Mia in his arm.

“I had bacon today and I liked it!” Evie told him, excitedly.

Dean put a hand over his heart, smiling at her. “Kid after my own heart.”

She latched onto him, making it difficult for him to move, but he leaned over and kissed Y/N, having gone too long since their previous one. Eventually, pretty much everyone was on the floor, dancing together as they continued to enjoy themselves.

The night began to wind down, as a few more guests thanked them for a wonderful night and they thanked them for being there, before they left. Y/N was chatting with Jody and the girls, when Dean came up behind her, putting his arms around her.

“Excuse me, ladies, but I gotta steal this one away,” he told them, slowly turning Y/N around.

“Go ahead,” Jody said, smiling.

“The girls want you to throw the bouquet and then we can head out,” Dean said, kissing her softly.

“Head out? We’re only going home, we can stay a bit longer,” she stated, frowning.

He smirked, shaking his head. “We’re not going home.”

“Oh really?” she asked, smiling. “What do you have up your sleeve this time, Dean Winchester?”

“Well, considering we’re not going on our honeymoon until next month because of the last few weeks of school, I pulled some strings with a customer who’s a manager at a hotel in town, and got us a room,” he replied, biting his lip as he smirked.

“You’re amazing,” she said, simply as she shrugged.

“So are you,” he said, leaning in and kissing her, lovingly.

Within a few minutes, Y/N got up on a chair as the women all gathered around to take part in a tradition she wasn’t too fond of, but Charlie had convinced her that it was a bit of fun. Y/N turned her back to them, launching the bouquet overhead, turning to see it glide through the air. Charlie stepped aside to let it end up in Meg’s vision, causing her to launch forward and grab the flowers. She looked at them with shock, not having been close enough to catch them and yet there she was. Holding the bouquet.

Cas looked on from where the guys were standing, suddenly feeling hot under the collar of his shirt. Sam looked at him, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

“You okay there, Cas?” he asked, smirking.

“Fine,” Cas replied, clearing his throat.

“Looks like you’re next,” Benny teased with a smirk of his own.

Dean laughed, tapping Cas on the back. “Relax, man. You look like you’re gonna barf.”

“I’m fine,” Cas repeated, his voice raspy and nervous.

The three of them looked at each other, chuckling quietly.

Within another hour, the reception came to a close, just a little after 12:30am. Their immediate family and friends stayed and left the tent with them, as they made their way back to the ranch house where they had gotten ready. The girls helped Y/N change out of her wedding dress, promising to take it back home for her. She got dressed into a white, A-line dress that came to just above her knees, changing into white shoes that had a shorter heel. She smiled as Charlie handed over an overnight bag she had packed for her, telling her that she was in on the surprise from Dean. Doing one last sweep of the room, the girls left and walked out to the parking lot.

She smiled as she saw Dean leaning against the Impala, his white dress shirt tight across his muscles as he crossed his arms, having ditched the suit jacket. The back of the car had a “Just Married” sign stuck to the trunk, and cans tied underneath. She knew he couldn’t have been happy about that, but he didn’t seemed he didn’t seem to care at that moment. They said their goodbyes to everyone, before Dean turned around and walked to the car, opening the passenger side door as he waited for Y/N.

She waved at everyone as she hurried over, quickly sitting inside as he shut the door. He waved at all the guests one last time as he ran around the front of the car, getting into the driver’s seat.

“Ready?” he asked, as he turned to Y/N. He had the most perfect smile on his face, which she reciprocated.

“Ready.” She leaned over, kissing him softly as he started the engine.

With one last look in the rear-view mirror, Dean’s foot pressed down on the accelerator. The Impala sped off, as he pressed the horn a few times and Y/N stuck her head out of the open window, waving as everyone cheered. They made it down the long drive, everyone disappearing from view, as Dean took a right turn and put them in the direction of Kansas City.

Once they arrived at the hotel, checked in and rode the elevator to their floor, they made their way to their room. Y/N stood back as Dean opened the door, took her bag from her and dropped both of them inside the door, holding it open with his foot. He took Y/N’s hand and bent down, wrapping an arm under her legs and around her back, picking her up.

“Really?” she asked, laughing as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Hey, we stuck to other traditions today, might as well stick to this one, too,” he replied, as he carried her across the threshold and into their hotel room, the door shutting behind them.

He walked over to the bed and carefully dropped her onto the covers, the rose petals scattering around. She laughed as he climbed on top of her, his legs on either side of her. The lights in the room were dimmed, giving everything a warm glow as they gazed into each other’s eyes.

“Hi, wife,” he breathed, grinning.

“Hi, husband,” she whispered, beaming.

He leaned in, kissing her passionately as he took her hands in his and placed them on either side of her head, their fingers curling between each other’s. The kiss became heated quickly, both of them wanting to be as close to the other as possible, after being apart since the night before.

“Dean,” she mumbled against his lips. She bit her lip as she wiggled her eyebrows. “I think I need to slip into something more comfortable.”

He hummed, kissing her again quickly. “I think you do, too.”

He rolled away from her, letting her sit up and stand up from the bed. She turned back to him and felt a heat spread through her body and settle in her as she looked at him, his legs crossed as he leaned up on his elbows, smirking at her. His white shirt had a couple of buttons open, exposing his neck and clavicle, making her shiver. She smiled at him and walked away to the bathroom, picking up her overnight bag along the way, and shutting the door.

Y/N looked at herself in the mirror, smiling as she let out a small squeal. She had never felt as happy as she did in her relationship with Dean, and she couldn’t wait to see how much deeper their love would grow now that they were married. Unzipping her dress on the side, she slipped it off and took off the simple bra and underwear she had put on. She unzipped her bag, smiling when she saw the white lingerie she had bought. Good thing she had told Charlie about it and her friend packed it for her. She slipped it on, clasping the bra and adjusting all the straps. She took out the soft lace robe and put it on. Looking at herself in the mirror again, she took out all the pins from her hair, flicking it back and forth to open it up. She stroked her hands through it and fluffed it, the strands now wavy from being in the bun all day.

With one last check in the mirror, Y/N opened the door and walked out. She smiled as Dean sat on the edge of the bed, taking his shoes off. She cleared her throat and he looked up, stopping what he was doing as his eyes raked over her. He looked up into her eyes, smiling as he dropped his shoes and leaned back on his hands, watching her walk over to him. She straddled him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he sat up, placing his hands on her hips.

“Like it?” she asked, as her hands combed through his hair at the back of his head.

He hummed as he leaned in, kissing her neck softly. “Definitely… but I think I’d like it better on the floor.”

His hands moved up to her shoulders, her arms moving back to let him push her robe down her arms, letting the delicate material slip to the floor. She shifted forward, her covered mound pressing against his crotch as she began to grind slowly. He pulled her closer, kissing her neck, nipping at the spot that always drove her crazy.

“God, I love you so damn much, sweetheart,” he whispered between kisses, making his way to her mouth, pressing a searing kiss to her lips.

“I love you, too,” she said, pulling away briefly. “So much.”

His hands slid around her back, slowly unclasping the bra and unhooking the bottom part of the lingerie. He pulled it off her and threw it on the floor, leaving her in the matching white lace thong.

Pulling her into him, Dean turned and laid Y/N down on the bed, her head resting against the pillows. She sat up, reaching for his shirt and unbuttoning it, kissing him feverishly as she pushed it off his shoulders and tossed it on the floor. He leaned over, laying her back against the bed, moving in to kiss her again. He trailed his lips down, kissing along her neck and collarbone, down the valley of her breasts, stopping to plant a kiss to each of them, making his way down her stomach.

“So beautiful,” he whispered against her skin, making her press her lips together, her cheeks hot from his admiration.

She looked down at him, watching as he pulled her thong down her legs and dropped it to the floor. Their eyes met as he moved between her legs, a small smirk on his face as he leaned in and placed a kiss to her sex. She bit her lip as they kept eye contact, a gasp leaving her as he licked a stripe over her folds. He moved his tongue from her entrance to her clit, tasting her as she started to get wet. He ran his tongue over her swollen nub in circles, causing a small moan to escape her lips. He started to alternate between sucking at her clit and slowly thrusting his tongue into her wet canal, as her hands moved into his short locks.

“Dean, oh my god,” she moaned, looking down at him as her hands gripped his hair tight.

“Taste so good, sweetheart,” he groaned.

He continued his ministrations, as a string of moans left her, his name falling from her lips as she felt her core tighten, knowing that she was close. No matter how many times Dean did this for her, every time was a euphoric experience, a feeling that could never be compared to anything else because it was just that amazing. Every single time.

“God, feels so good,” she whimpered, closing her eyes tightly.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered against her thigh, planting a kiss to her flesh. “Cum on my tongue, wanna feel it.” He dipped his head and continued to suck at the swollen nub and lick at her entrance, ready to bring her over the edge.

“Dean, fuck I-” she moaned, threw her head back. “Dean!”

The coil snapped as she came, her wetness slicking his tongue and lips. He lapped at everything she gave him, not moving until he was satisfied. Pressing a kiss to her inner thigh, he drifted up, holding himself above her as he smiled.

“You alright, sweetheart?” he asked, softly.

She reached up, cupping his face in her hands and bringing him closer, kissing his lips and tasting herself on them. She looked up at him, stroking her thumbs across his cheeks as she looked into his eyes. “I really am.”

His eyes flicked over every part of her face, taking in every feature. “You’re so beautiful.”

“So are you,” she whispered, gazing into his green orbs.

“Wanna be inside you, sweetheart,” he groaned, softly, as he reached for the belt on his pants.

“Want that too,” she sighed, reaching up to plant kisses along his jaw. “Need you inside me.”

Dean took off his belt and dropped it down the side of the bed, undoing his pants and slipping them off along with his boxers, throwing them to the floor. He was hard, his cock throbbing after he had brought her over the edge with his mouth. He took a hold of his shaft, pressing the tip to her entrance, as her legs spread a little more. Knowing she was more than ready for him, he sank into her, a soft moan leaving her lips as she felt her walls stretch and sheath his cock completely.

“Fuck, you feel so good inside me, Dean,” she whispered, kissing his cheek. “So good.”

“So perfect wrapped around me,” he whispered back.

He pulled back slightly, thrusting back into her as he set a slow, sensual rhythm. He leaned down on his forearms, his face closer to hers, kissing her passionately. She held onto his shoulders, her legs wrapping around him, her heels digging into the globes of his ass. Their bodies moved together in a slow dance, their lips moving against each other at the same pace.

“I love you,” she whispered against his lips, a soft and loving smile on her face.

Dean pulled back slightly, looking deep into her eyes. He couldn’t believe that he got to be her husband, feeling overwhelmed by the moment as he continued to move within her.

“I love you so much, Dean Winchester,” she sighed, her hands moving up to cup his face again. “I’m going to love you for the rest of my life.”

Dean reached up and took her hands in his, their fingers linked as he held them down on either side of her head. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers, their eyes boring into each other’s. For yet another time in their relationship, he wondered how luck finally came to him, how he finally found the woman of his dreams. He marvelled that he found a woman who truly cared for him, who loved him unconditionally and saw past his flaws. He couldn’t believe his luck to get the chance to spend his whole life with her.

Y/N breathed heavily as she gazed up at him, seeing his eyes begin to water. She couldn’t believe that this man above her had come into her life right when she needed him. That he had found everything about her incredible, to the point where he had committed to spending his whole life with her. He loved her and made her feel safe, and she constantly thanked the universe every day that they found each other.

A tear rolled down Dean’s right cheek, causing Y/N to reach up and softly brush it away. Another tear escaped his left eye, as he let out a mix between a gasp and a moan. His shoulders shook as a wave of emotions flooded him; his jaw clenched as he tried to keep the tears at bay.

“I love you so fucking much, sweetheart,” he rasped, a few more tears escaping.

She held his face in her hands, leaning up slightly to softly brush her lips against his cheeks, kissing his tears away. He continued to move within her, her walls clenching around his cock as his hips undulated slowly, hitting her g-spot repeatedly. Her hands joined with his again, their fingers tight around each other’s. Linked together. Forever.

She smiled through tears of her own, tilting her head to kiss his lips softly. “I love you, D.”

He thrusted into her a little faster, knowing that she was close from the way she contracted around him. He leaned up slightly, looking down at her as he moved deep with her, her hips meeting his. She felt the heat in her belly rise, her core tightening again, her second release fast approaching.

“Dean,” she moaned loudly, her hands grasping his tightly. “Baby, I’m so close.”

“Me too, gorgeous,” he grunted, clenching his jaw. “Cum with me.”

She looked deep into his eyes, as his hips snapped against hers a few more times, causing her to moan loudly. With their names on each other’s lips, they fell over the edge together, her wetness slicking his shaft, as his seed coated her inner walls, the euphoria washing over them like a calming ocean.

Dean breathed heavily as he dropped his head to her chest, his lower body slowly laying between her legs. She ran her hands through his sweat-soaked hair, holding his head in place, her chest rising and falling harshly as she caught her breath. He turned his head slightly, softly kissing the top of her breast and any other part of her skin that he could reach. He slowly pulled out of her, but she didn’t allow him to move away.

“That was incredible,” she said, softly, feeling a tear escape her eye and run down the side of her face.

He nodded against her chest, not trusting his voice at that moment.

They lay there in the same position for a few moments, until Dean rolled off her and shifted back against the pillows. Y/N moved into him, resting her head on his chest and wrapping her arm around him. Her fingers made random patterns on his chest, both of them basking in the afterglow of their wedding night love making. Soon, sleep was starting to creep in. He reached up and turned off the lights from the switch near the bed, the clock on the bedside table reading 2:15am.

“I love you, Dean Winchester,” she whispered, her eyes closing.

“I love you, too, Y/N Winchester,” he whispered back.

They fell into a deep slumber, their bodies moulded together perfectly, their minds replaying the beautiful memories of their special day and knowing that come sunrise would be the start of new ones being made.

It would be the start of their new chapter together as husband and wife.

-x-

Tags: @deanwanddamons​​ // @winchest09​​ // @downanddirtydean​​ // @jensengirl83​​ // @wonder-cole​​ // @that-one-gay-girl​​ // @whatareyousearchingfordean​​ // @flamencodiva​​ // @danneelsmain​​ // @ellewritesfix05​​ // @roonyxx​​ // @akshi8278​​ //@hobby27​​ // @michellethetvaddict​​ // @spngirl05​​ // @kyjey​​ // @440mxs-wife​​ // @stoneyggirl​​ // @stoneyggirl2​​​ // @deanswaywardgirl​​​ // @redbarn1995​​​ // @marianita195​ // @babypink224221​​​ // @deans-baby-momma​​​ // @parinarain​​​ // @thoughts-and-funnies​​​ // @mandalou29​​​ // @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​​​ // @supernatural-love14​​​ // @vicmc624​​​ // @prettyboyswow​​​ // @lunarmoon8​​​ // @irmcpar​​​ // @compresshischest09​​​ // @weepingwillowphoenix​​​ // @xlynnbbyx​​​ // @whiskey-infused-dreams​​​ // @perpetualabsurdity​​​ // @verytoadpapersoul​​​ // @pink-sparkly-witch​​​ //

[legolasbadass]

A Lifetime Apart [1/3]

Artwork by the lovely @gwen-ever​

Relationship: Thorin x OC

Summary: Thorin meets his One while still a young prince in Erebor, but their lives are torn apart by their families and the arrival of Smaug. 

Based on Alice Tynan’s interview with Richard Armitage in ‘The Vine,’ this fic was inspired by @gwen-ever’s wonderful art for the @tolkienrsb 2021! 

Warnings: Angst. Seriously guys, this is really angsty, get your tissues ready. (gwen and I are not sorry lol)

Rating: T

As always, the fic can be read on AO3. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 

There is a room in Erebor, a secret place where once their love bloomed in peace. All the memories of that place, where he held her and worshipped her with his lips, were forever engraved in his mind. It was there that, after months of struggling with his feelings, he had realized she was his One.

All Dwarves know that Mahal sometimes creates two of his children from the same stone, bonding them for life. Of course, not all Dwarves marry. Even those granted this honour by their Maker do not always choose to marry, for some value friendship above all other bonds, while others devote themselves to their craft. Still, as a young boy, Thorin had hoped Mahal would deem him worthy, and every night he had dreamt of the moment he would meet his One, conjuring their likeness like an artist who paints a picture and gives it life.

He had also wondered what it would feel like to meet his One. Would he know immediately? And how would he know? Perhaps it would be like in those romance novels his sister liked so much. A tender, all-consuming look from across the room, silently reassuring the other that they had found each other at last.

Perhaps due to long hours in the council chamber, Thorin had become more of a realist as the years went on. He always had to be on his guard, and he learned quickly that he could not trust his desires, for they could be manipulated by advisors and enemies alike. Romanticism was fine for artists but not for princes. The idea of a destined love became no more than a child’s fanciful dream, and Thorin grew gradually less opposed to the concept of an arranged marriage until the thought of it did not bother him at all. After all, his parents had been married for a political alliance and had still grown to care for each other. Thorin knew he would do the same.

At least, that was what he had told himself before he met Rúna, his dear Rúna.

He did not know immediately that she was his One, but from the moment their gazes met, he knew he would never again be the same. Her presence had so bewitched him that he had not realized he was walking toward her until she stood right in front of him. Then, stumbling over his every word, he had thought himself defeated, oblivious to the fact that she felt the same indescribable pull toward him.

“Thorin, at your service,” had been his first words to her.

“Rúna, daughter of Ragni, your highness,” she had replied with a curtsy, enchanting him all the more with her melodious voice.

“I hope you are having a pleasant time, Lady Rúna.” Already, he had loved the way her name rolled off his tongue.

“More pleasant than you, at least, seeing as you have found nothing better to do than stare at me from across the room,” she had replied teasingly.

Blushing furiously, he had attempted to remain formal and composed but, ultimately, had failed miserably. “I had hoped that would go unnoticed, or at the very least, that you would humour me and pretend like nothing had transpired. And just because I was watching you does not mean I am not having a pleasant time. On the contrary, my spirits were lifted by the sight of your fairness.”

Thorin could still remember the beautiful blush that had painted her cheeks. “Forgive me,” he had said hastily. “I did not mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I did not say I did not enjoy it,” she had replied with the most enchanting smirk.

That was how their conversations usually unfolded. Thorin, who always prided himself on being in control and always knowing what to say, would find himself barely able to think. He blamed her low-cut gowns and the redness of her lips for that.

They soon became inseparable. Every day, they would meet in their secret room, a haven where they shared stolen kisses and soft caresses. Âzyungel, she would call him, for she, too, had accepted Mahal’s will. She had accepted Thorin as hers, and in those moments, both of them had believed nothing would ever separate them, for they were destined to be together.

Deep in the caverns of his mind, a voice called out to Thorin, warning him against the intensity of his passion, but he did not listen. He found himself thinking of her at the most inappropriate times, and she haunted the nights he wished he could spend with her. When he closed his eyes, he saw her smile and heard her laughter, clearer than the soft splashing of water against limestone rocks.

What would it be like to spend his whole life with her, his Rúna?

Thorin thought with utter surety that he would soon know when they announced to their families their intent to wed. At first, everyone was overjoyed. Rúna came from a wealthy and respectable family, so the king had no objections to his grandson’s choice — not that any of that mattered to the couple. Ale and Dorwinion wine flowed freely as the news travelled through the mountain. The prince had chosen his princess.

Thorin and Rúna welcomed their families’ approval, but they secretly longed to be alone once more. When at last they found themselves in the comfort of Thorin’s chambers, they drank some more wine between languid kisses, committing the moment to memory. Fingers braided hair then caressed the skin they hastily revealed, their cheeks tainted with the soft glow of love.

That night, like their hearts forever bound, their bodies became one. Thorin was gentle, attentive to her every need, and even afterwards, he continued to bathe her in tenderness, scattering kisses all over her skin as they murmured promises of eternal love to each other, bodies entangled.

Rúna fell asleep to the soft lullaby of his heartbeat beneath her cheek, and though she never doubted for a second his sincerity and devotion, those promises were never fulfilled.

Rúna knew they should have been patient, and although she was usually very sensible, she had not known how to resist her handsome prince, especially not when his body had promised her glorious passion, now and for the rest of their lives. Besides, it was not as though premarital relations were unheard of. However, princes had to follow much stricter rules. And these rules had been carelessly ignored. And as the days went on, Rúna knew she would not have the luxury of keeping their transgression a secret, for inside her bloomed the product of her and Thorin’s love, but also the cause of their demise.

Even if it had not been for her growing belly, her morning sickness and alarmingly fluctuating moods would have given her away. And they did. She had never seen her parents so furious, and their disappointment pierced her heart. Her father shouted about her stained reputation and their ruined bloodline, leaving her in tears as she tried to scramble away in search of Thorin even as she knew it was hopeless.

She knew they would separate them.

King Thror, with the support of Thorin’s parents, banished Rúna from Erebor, never to see her beloved again. She tried to fight them, indignation festered inside her like a poisoned wound, the unattainable promise of Thorin’s love shattering her heart into a million pieces, but it was hopeless.

They did not inform Thorin of this, for it was their firm intention never to let him know about the bastard child. Instead, they told him she was bedridden while they conjured up a more permanent plan. And so, unaware that his One had been taken from him, Thorin brought flowers to Rúna’s door every day. He hated every moment he was forced to spend away from her — it felt unnatural — but he consoled himself by thinking that they would spend their whole lives together.

Then the dragon came.

Thorin had been out hunting in the woods with his siblings when a strong wind began to rattle the treetops. Then a roar like thunder split the sky, and the blood of Thorin’s veins froze when he heard a shout from afar.

“Dragon!”

Rúna.

Without so much as a glance at his companions, Thorin bolted toward the mountain, fear clogging his throat.

Refusing to believe this was real, he did not even stop when the gates loomed above him, riddled in flames, but the screams piercing his ears grounded him to the bitterness of reality. The air was wrought with the stench of burning flesh and the sorrow of a broken people. All around him, children cried in fright, and mothers wept while the distant ringing of useless steel announced their defeat.

No help came from the Elves that day, nor any day since; a betrayal Thorin never forgot. Even if there had been survivors still clawing for breath inside the mountain, they had no means to reach them.

Rúna.

Thorin searched for her everywhere, shouting her name until his lungs burned, but when the moon appeared, and she was still nowhere to be found, Thorin knew it was hopeless. Grief crashed over him like a hurricane.

He had lost her.

He wanted to tear the sky open and demand retribution from Mahal himself, but all his remaining strength he used to remain on his feet. He had to be strong for his people — what remained of them. His family had miraculously survived, but even that could not have filled the gaping hole where his heart had once beat.

Rúna, his dear Rúna. The memory of her lips against his turned to ash in his mouth. When he had last kissed her and held her, he had done so thinking he would have a lifetime to keep loving her. But she was now no more than a memory.

He forced himself not to think of that, for his people needed him now more than ever. Only once he was finally alone did he let his tears run free, and all through the night, he sobbed into his pillow, his only comfort the memories of their secret room, untouched by fire and blood. Thorin held onto those memories all through the years, never forgetting, never forgiving.

—

Khuzdul translations:

Âzyungêl: Love of Loves (used here to refer to the Dwarven belief in a single, destined soulmate)

Taglist: @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @mcchiberry @bitter-sweet-farmgirl​ @i-did-not-mean-to​

Let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist!

[anika-ann]

My Timid Hello, My Clumsy Goodbye (S.R.)

Type: one-shot, canon semi-compliant?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Barton!reader    Word count: 8900 (...sorry)

Summary: You’re spending the evening and the night before your wedding with the two most important men of your life.

When the sun rises again, you’ll say your ‘I do’ in a close circle of friends and family. It’s not a goodbye to your old life and it’s not a hello to some enormous change; but you will no longer be a Barton. You will be a Rogers. Why not reminisce a bit? 

Warnings: mention of an abandoned baby, blood and injuries, alcohol, implied possibly rougher sex (nothing graphic) ...mature?, language, so much sappiness... let me know if I missed any

A/N: For what-is-your-backupplan-today 10th anniversary of CA:TFA challenge. Prompts in bold. Thank you for coming up with this wonderful theme and hosting this challenge! Long live CA:TFA!

A/N: Throughout the fic, you’ll find snippets of lyrics from SYML’s "Everything All At Once”. Honestly, the song has a completely different meaning to me, but tearing it out of context works for this story just fine :) When you’re done reading, I recommend the music video. It friggin’ broke me in the worst and best ways. Enjoy!

This is my hello This is my clumsy goodbye I'm putting my glass down I wanna remember tonight

Tony rented an island for you. Clint nearly passed out learning about it and grumbled for days about having a hard time to top that, which, no arguing, was understandable.

It was an incredibly extravagant thing to do, throwing around money that could have been used for a much more honourable cause, but you couldn’t complain. One should not look a gifted horse into mouth – and so you didn’t.

Because Tony Stark renting an island was his premature wedding gift. The fact that your brother bitched about not being able to top that, well, that was his problem. You were certain that deep down, he knew you didn’t need any fancy gifts like that.

Then again, Tony’s gift might have been epically overpriced, but not exactly unthoughtful; along with a private island came a private jet and you being literally flied under radar so no single paparazzi knew where you and America’s golden boy Steve Rogers would seal the deal with your ‘I do.’ So, you were everything but ungrateful to your friend that he succeeded at pulling off such covert operation; and frankly, this place was nothing short of wonderful.

The golden sand was pleasantly warm under your toes as you as you and Clint walked towards the two single beach chairs facing the ocean. Wearing bikini under the baggy t-shirt and a pair of shorts, sunglasses on top of your head, because why would you deprive yourself the gorgeous view of the sun beginning to set down, you followed your brother – not in blood but in every other sense – to the seats, allured by the view, the serenity and the cold sixpack in his hand.

You had already had a traditional bachelorette party with your girls – with the team, with your family. Natasha, Wanda, Pepper, Sharon and Maria. The night had been the perfect blend of what was considered typically feminine, dress up, fanciness and wine and gossip, and a fun night out with shots, dancing, karaoke and pool. That particular night sadly was interrupted shortly by an annoying photographer, but he soon understood it was not very clever to annoy three and a half Avengers or the CEO of Stark Industries for that matter.

Clint however… Clint deserved a special evening with you. With the rest of the team in various state of chilling out, scattered around the luxurious small houses and gorgeous beaches, you two were left the privacy such moment required.

Even if the special moment consisted of simple talking and drinking beer while watching the sun set, a symbolic end of one phase of your life – a phase that was undeniably tied to the famous and yet barely known archer, one of the seven defenders who rushed into the Battle of New York to save the Earth.

One of the seven had been your brother, having previously been controlled by the monster who brought an army from outer space; there was no questioning whether you would join the fight or not, no matter how you preferred the latter part of your field medic job title to the former.

Another of these brave people, as it turned out, was your future husband. A man you had met for the first time that day, but whom you didn’t hesitate to push back down when he got hit by a freaking alien weapon and stood up, wanting to shake it off as if it was nothing. Your medical training told you not to let him; and your stubbornness had been just a touch stronger than his that day.

Apparently, Steve found you always standing your ground to be one of your most endearing qualities.

What a fancy way to express it instead of simply calling you a stubborn pain in his ass.

“You’re lost in your head, Twinkie,” Clint hummed, playfully nudging your ribs with an elbow, bringing you back to the present.

Your nose automatically scrunched at the childhood nickname.

“You gotta stop calling me that, Bobo,” you retorted, a grin spreading on your face as it was his turn to grimace.

You knew it was nothing but an act and that he in fact loved that nickname, because it held so much sentiment, so many memories… as did his endearment for you.

Bobo had been your first word or so Clint always claimed. Obviously, you wouldn’t remember.

You wouldn’t remember your parents, having been only two days old when your mother left you with a damn circus which was in your hometown at the time. You couldn’t recall how you wouldn’t stop crying until you heard a seven-year-old Clint humming a lullaby for you, with silly replacements of lyrics that always made you laugh later on when you could understand them.

How he started calling you Twinkie, because he was a sugar addict and apparently, you were sweet and small and he liked you; so much that he soon appointed himself to be your brother, your bro, your Bobo.

Once you were older and learned that your involuntary nickname for him also meant ‘crazy’ in Spanish, you were sold to that Bobo endearment forever.

Including the night before your wedding.

“You keep zoning out on me, Kid. Getting cold feet?” Clint hummed, casually handing you a can of beer, opening it up for you.

You automatically reached out and took a sip, eyes fixed on the warm colour on the horizon. What a ridiculous question… but kind and caring, with a hidden promise of getting you out of here if you just asked. Your amazing, protective, crazy brother.

You couldn’t but smile widely, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

“You offering to kidnap the bride, Clint? I’d like to see you try. You were always better at trapeze than at being an escape artist.”

Clint scoffed. “Please. These are amateurs. I bet I could pull it off.”  

That drew a laugh from you.

“Are you calling the Avengers amateurs? Better yet, are you calling your wife an amateur?” you teased him, watching his face lose colour when he realized that he did exactly that. You leaned over and patted his thigh. “Don’t worry, Bobo. I won’t tell Nat.”

Clint visibly relaxed, but a shadow of worry twisting his expression.

“Seriously though. Where’s your head at, Kid?”

You just shrugged, smile resting on your lips as you wondered if you ever felt so relaxed. It went along well with the reminiscing of the past and despite the fact that tomorrow was a big day and you should probably be nervous, you weren’t. Not in the slightest, more like the opposite. You were giddy even; it dawned to you that nothing in your life had ever felt so right.

No moment in your life offered you such serenity to your heart, your shoulders free of any weight, body light as air.

“Just taking a trip down the memory lane. Thinking about how lucky I was to be dropped at your circus of all circuses of the world,” you grinned at Clint, your tone remaining completely serious.

Because you were being serious – words couldn’t express how grateful for everything that led to this moment you were. How grateful you were to your brother for watching over you, making sure you would always see the light of a new day, guiding you when you found yourself in a dark.

Clint didn’t react beside his fingers twitching and you knew he was giving you the chance to say what you needed to say.

“About how you taught me pretty much everything I know. About how while I might not be the best person in the world, my brother, who is the best brother ever, made me into a decent person and I owe him everything I am. And how I should probably feel guilty for tying myself to another guy who just swept in and whisked away your little sister.”

Clint stared at you, gulping as his eyes gradually filled with tears. You found yourself in a very cheesy moment, bordering on absurd and it was almost too much to handle – but Clint took a deep breath, cleared his throat and swallowed his tears.

“Well, that bastard did steal my greatest life achievement with way too little effort,” he remarked, voice cracking slightly, the image of him causing your eyes to burn as well even if his words made you both tear up and burst out laughing.

“Dammit, Clint, stop making me laugh and cry at the same time…”

“You started it!” he pointed his index finger at you accusingly, taking a large sip of his beer to drown his sentiment. “But for the record, you should not feel guilty. It’s not like you’re leaving me.”

“I know, but-“

“And if you were, you’d be leaving me in good hands.”

“That’s true, Natasha does have a grip on you and might keep you outta trouble-“

“She’s the one who gets me into trouble half of the time!” Clint cried out in protest and you would have argued if it wasn’t the truth.

But before he had met her, Clint was able to make up his own trouble just fine – he was more than half of a reason why while doing a bit of trapeze yourself, you also grew interested in medical care. Because who else than the little sister should treat her big brother’s wounds when he got too crazy?

“In all seriousness, I’m proud of you, Twinkie,” he said sincerely, one corner of his lips raised in a lopsided smile. “You’re entirely entitled to have your own life and if there’s one guy in this whole damn world I’m willing to trust to have you… well, I guess it’s that big blond dumbass.”

“He can be a bit dumb of ass occasionally, can’t he?” you mused lovingly. “I guess it’s right what they say… we do pick our partners similar to our parents, maybe not only in looks. I didn’t really have a dad, I had you, so…”

Clint sighed, smile widening, before it slipped from his face as he caught up on the not-so-hidden insult.

“Hey!”

You couldn’t but laugh at his shocked expression, accidently spilling a splosh of beer on the sand.

“Just… maybe make sure that even married, you still find time to hang out with your big dumb of ass brother every once in a while?” Clint suggested, sounding surprisingly vulnerable.

Your whole demander softened, a little pang of guilt stinging in your heart as he took your words too seriously – and at his worry.

“Clint… I will always find time for my amazing brother.”

“Well, you’re marrying a pretty amazing guy too, so, you know, I understand the dilemma…”

You snorted when he seemed to genuinely fawn over your future husband, shaking your head before downing the rest of your drink.

“As amazing as Steve might be – and gosh, he is, don’t get me started – you still own a pretty big chunk of my heart.”

“Good. You are a Barton at heart,” Clint hummed, pretending that a few tears didn’t roll down his cheeks, leaning towards you as his expression once again grew serious.

Your chest tightened. Oh no. He was gonna say something to make you cry too – as if you already weren’t at verge of crying, emotions bubbling under the surface.

“Clint-“ you warned him silently, but he spoke up anyway and you gulped, bracing yourself.

“Just… whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing. That you will stay who you are. Not a perfect housewife, but a good woman.”

That was not what you were prepared for, as touching as the sentiment was.

You burst out laughing, head thrown back, hands clutching at your stomach as it actually hurt with the sudden clench. Tears did spring from your eyes, a perfect blend of touched and infinitely amused at your brother’s words.

“Har, har, that’s what I get from trying to speak from heart…” Clint muttered grumpily and you willed yourself to calm your hitching breaths as you looked at him, the pout of his mouth causing you to cackle again.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just… I am moved, I really am. Thank you. But me? A perfect housewife? And you realize I’m marrying Steve Rogers, right? The epitome of a good man? He would probably threaten to sock me in a jaw if I tried to change into something I’m not just for his sake and actually sock me in my jaw if I turned into a bad woman.”

Clint’s eyebrows jumped, a smirk appearing on his face. “That’s a lot of punching.”  

“My thoughts exactly,” you agreed, reaching for another can, pausing when a thought occurred to you. “Just so we’re clear, I might turn into a bit of a housewife when we have kids, alright? And I want to be a good wife, a good partner to Steve, which is what I’m trying to do even now.”

“I mean, yeah, sure, wouldn’t expect anything less. But… just promise me you’ll stay you and that you’ll keep giving him a run for his money, keep him on his toes a bit,” Clint shrugged with a grin, drawing another chuckle from you.

You saw his point – and you fully intended to keep Steve on his toes. You had a good reason to believe that your future husband enjoyed when you did.

“Oh Clinton… I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He nodded contentedly, picking up another beer and raising it for a toast, his can clinking with yours.

“Cheers to that!”

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you then, a quiet joy wrapped in one moment; the sun ending its quest, the warm breeze in your hair, the waves whispering of a journey you were about to take off to. And all that with a wordless comforting presence of your family, ready to offer you a shelter if a storm rocked your boat and the wind caused you to lose course.

As your mind wandered, you had to laugh at yourself – it was almost as if you were raised by pirates and not circus performers. Perhaps it was the little bit of free cheeky spirit these life journeys had in common what brought the metaphor to your mind. It was a bit like working with the Avengers too, always on a road, adrenaline in your veins even as you mostly stayed on the jet, ready to assist them… yet here you were pondering that maybe, you were yearning for settling down a bit more.

“Cap wouldn’t punch you anyway, right?” Clint remarked, breaking the silence and you blinked yourself back into reality, taking a moment to figure out what he was talking about.

Oh. Right. Steve punching you if you changed yourself significantly for his benefit.

You smiled softly, heart swelling in affection when the answer to that question appeared obvious.

“No, he wouldn’t.”

“Good. He’d try once and I’d put an arrow straight between his eyes,” Clint promised darkly, almost causing you to choke at the sudden violent note. He quickly fixed it with a ramble, lightening the atmosphere yet again. “Minus training of course. He’s allowed to try in order to improve your hand-to-hand. Not that he would ever land a hand on you anyway. Always so soft on you…” he grinned, seemingly alright with that attitude if not slightly calling the big strong supersoldier out.

Oh you could be cheeky too alright if that was what your brother wanted.

“That you know of.”

A confused huh was the only reaction you got – that and a puzzled look.

“He’s always soft on me,” you repeated Clint’s words, turning to him, lips slowly spreading in a wicked smirk. “That you know of.”

Clint’s brows furrowed for a short moment and then his features twisted in a disgusted grimace, face growing a tint crimson.

“Gross!” he complained, more blood rushing to his cheeks. “You know what, I changed my mind. We’re leaving. You’re not marrying him. I’m kidnapping the bride and never returning her, locking her somewhere far far away-“

You snorted at his indignation, your grin undoubtedly battling the one of the Cheshire cat.

“No will do, Bobo. I’m marrying Steve and you can’t stop me.”

This time, Clint didn’t even protest, eyes misted over, nose still scrunched at the mental image, lamenting as the night slowly settled over the paradise-like island.

“Oh god, please help, I can’t unsee it, can’t unhear it--- ew-”

Your laughter was carried away by the breeze as Clint seemed to be unable to look at you.

You swung your beer around, thinking that yes – nothing quite ever felt so right as being here in this moment. Relaxing with your brother, teasing him relentlessly and counting down hours to when you’d say ‘I do’ to the only man who in your eyes ever battled the mantle of the best man in the universe.

In one unending moment You fall within my reach I'm close enough to whisper Hold on to me Hold on to me

You weren’t sure what time it was when you snuck into the beach house, one of few, which had been wisely chosen to be occupied by you and Steve only. You attempted to be quiet and liked to think you succeeded, in your even barely tipsy state, but your effort turned out to be in vain as you found Steve perched against headboard of your bed; reading a book, thin white t-shirt and sleep shorts on display as the soft sheet had been kicked away, scrunched up by his feet.

He was gorgeous – he was gorgeous and yours, a momentary picture perfect of peace, appearing to feel just as light as you did and somehow the dullness of the moment, just him relaxing in bed with a good read as you came home… it was more alluring than one would think.

Steve looked up from the book when you wavered in the doorway, soft lopsided smile spreading on his face.

God, that smile. It might be over two years since you saw it for the first time, but it could still make you weak in your knees.

And somehow, it was now even more charming now than the day you met, more tender than just before you kissed for the first time, sweeter than when he proposed.

“Hey sweetheart,” he greeted you, appreciative gaze roaming your figure and the little too much skin on display – something you regretted when the warm sunrays had bid you goodbye, raising goosebumps. And Steve, the attentive man he was, noticed, his smile earning a teasing edge. “You look a bit cold in there.”

You resisted the urge to stick your tongue out.

“And you look pretty cosy in there. Thought you’d be either asleep or with Bucky.”

Steve shrugged, not letting go of his unfinished chapter just yet, knowing you had a routine to go through before joining him.

“Maybe I missed you. Maybe Bucky is an old man and needs his sleep.”

You chuckled, not rising to the bait – you knew what would follow if you dared to say Steve was just as old. Not that you would complain about Steve trying to convince you about the opposite. You could never.

“Well, I bet he still made you a promise of breaking a bone of mine or two if I ever hurt you. He’ll find energy for that, centenarian or not,” you hummed nonchalantly as you bounced off the doorframe, heading to the bathroom and leaving Steve puzzled by your remark.

“How did you know?” he called out after you, endearingly confused.

“That’s what big brothers do, love!”

Short silence was your answer as you reached for your toothbrush and begun your nighty ritual.

Steve must have figure out what did it mean for him, considering you had a protective brother of your own, because a moment later, his half-amused “noted!” reached your ears.

You chuckled and shook your head, smile spread on your face which you didn’t think could be erased as long as you were in this paradise – free of worry, full of joy. And why wouldn’t you be? You were about to marry one of the smartest, kindest, sassiest and most beautiful men that ever walked the Earth. What was not to love?

You couldn’t but let your mind wander again; if you had only known the day you met, right from that moment, that you’d end up here…. well. It felt a little surreal, knowing that by this time tomorrow, you’d be Steve’s wife; then again, Steve’s life story was surreal enough on its own.

Who would have thought that the stubborn handsome man in the ridiculous suit and you, equally stubborn about you at least checking on the wound upon half-dragging him to a quiet corner in a middle of a battlefield, would grow so close?

It hadn’t been simple. Steve wasn’t the most open guy and while friendly enough, he wasn’t exactly offering his heart on his sleeve, not to strangers. But it hadn’t been too hard, once you were meeting on regular basis. Piece by piece he revealed his true colours and soon after he did… you started falling; hard and fast.

Not necessarily swooning, not on the outside at least; you were a professional, after all. The safety and the well-being of the team was your priority.

It was just too bad – or the best thing, you supposed – that Steve had the same goal as you with one significant difference; as far as he was concerned, the responsibility to look after his team sometimes excluded him.

Oh, was he wrong about that.

And boy, did you let him know you thought so. You still kept proving him wrong to this day and was planning on nurturing his own acknowledgement of his self-worth till your last breath…

“Get your ass in here, Steve!” you called out after him, slowly losing patience as you had tried asking politely the previous two times with no result but being dismissed.

The change of tone and language made his head snap to you from where he was talking to Sam, an offended scowl on his face.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Captain. Don’t be a stubborn jerk and get your ass in here so I can clean your cuts.”

A few months ago, you wouldn’t have been able to talk to him like that; to the great legend, Captain America. At least you certainly wouldn’t have called him his first name and maybe, just maybe, you’d be a little less crass. But now? He might be Captain America still, a hero who deserved all the good things for the sacrifices he made for the world’s safety, but first and foremost, he was just Steve to you.

A colleague, a teammate, a friend. You might not be a part of the team per se, not the way Clint, Natasha or Steve were, but you still belonged. And you were all friends.

Friends irritated each other sometimes and frankly, Steve was often battling with Tony for the mantle of the most infuriating one.

Friends also needed to call each other out on their bullshit by any means necessary when the time was right and now the time was as good as any.

Usually, Steve slipped through your fingers, because he was a supersoldier and the others weren’t, so their injuries took precedence; today, it was only Natasha, Sam and Steve, and the captain was the only one whom you hadn’t checked yet. And you knew there were things to check, the trickle of blood from his eyebrow probably the least of your concerns.

“I wouldn’t argue with her, Steve. She can be pretty stubborn. Clint wouldn’t stop complaining about it,” Natasha supported you from the pilot seat and you fought yourself so you wouldn’t grin at her in victory – it would only irritated Steve further. “She’s almost as bull-headed as you are.”

At that, your smile would have slipped. But honestly, she wasn’t wrong.

“Don’t I know it,” Steve grunted, sparing Sam another glance and when the Falcon himself beckoned to you as well, wordlessly asking Steve to get himself checked up.

The captain sighed irately, but made his way back to the separate and well-lit space of your examination room.

He didn’t try to hide his annoyance – in fact, he squared his shoulders and his steps sounded a bit loud for anyone to believe it was a coincidence. Also, the scowl of exasperation never left his otherwise handsome face.

“This is completely unnecessary. A stupid waste of time,” he hissed as he walked past you and you took a deep calming breath, exchanging an eyeroll with Sam before you disappeared from sight.

“Captain. I respect you and your position, but you say one more time that my job here is unnecessary and stupid, you’ll be looking for a new medic,” you retorted as he stripped the upper part of his uniform angrily, revealing his white-tank-top-clad torso.

Well, at least the fabric used to be white – now a blood stain the size of both of your palms was seeping into the material at Steve’s right side, gushing from what definitely appeared to be a knife wound.

You were gonna murder him one of those days... unless he got killed himself first.

“Seriously?!”

“It’s just a graze-” he started to argue but you cut him off when you tore the fabric away. He winced as some of the dried blood had acted as a glue, having stuck the cloth into the wound, and now was violently ripped off.

“Tr to insinuate again that I’m incompetent at recognizing what’s just a graze, Steve. I dare you. This is a cut wide and deep enough for stitches! Haven’t you had the serum, you could have been bleeding out to death on this table!”

“But I do have it-“

“Or for fuck’s SAKE, stop being a baby and let me treat the bloody gash in your right mesogastric area! The serum accelerates your healing, but it doesn’t make you invincible OR immortal as far as I know--- Jesus fucking Christ-!”

He bristled, taking a deep breath to fight back, but he never got the chance, because you started working and the words died in his throat. Surprisingly, inspecting the damage, poking around a knife wound that might have already begin to seal itself thanks to Erskine’s formula but had not been just a graze hurt and coincidentally, it pulled the rug from under his feet.

To his credit, Steve barely even hissed at the pain.

“Just so you know, I’ll be using the disinfection that stings worse,” you noted, voice dripping venom, because you were genuinely done with Steve’s bullshit.

You lied through your teeth though. You wouldn’t. No matter how infuriating Steve was and how difficult he made your life – causing you to fall for his stupid martyr ass and pine after him among other things – you would never purposely hurt him.

And he must have sensed that, because your remark didn’t earn you a murderous glare or a retort – much to your surprise.

In fact, Steve fell entirely quiet, watching you work without protest, not even objecting when you applied enough local anaesthetic to knock out an elephant and sewed the tissue together so it healed easier. He let you inspect the rest of his torso and bandage his ribs, vigorously shaking his head when you asked him if he was injured anywhere below the waist.

He observed you as you kept an eye on his face for any minute sign of pain he’d be hiding, but all you could see were his irises, startlingly bright blue, pools of honesty and something you had trouble decoding. He seemed… humbled almost. It silenced the anger inside you, the flames of rage – and fear for his well-being, if you were being honest with yourself – turning into a barely smouldering pile of ash.

When you moved on to his head, gently pushing away the strands which obscured the gash on his eyebrow, his eyelids slid shut. You knew how unpleasant facial injuries were, especially around one’s eyes and so you took care to be extra careful as you cleaned the wound and the area surrounding it, most definitely not using the stingy disinfectant.

Not that Steve could get an infection as far as you knew. It was more force of a habit than anything else… and it made you feel better. He had this idiotic mask of an invincible hero he put up sometimes and it drove you insane, because you knew he was only human, a beautiful kind soul, but god, could he be an ass.

“Almost done,” you whispered soothingly when you noticed his jaw tightening as you had to apply a bit more pressure to get a tiny piece of gravel from the cut. You certainly didn’t want that to stay under the newly healing skin.

The moment you retreated with the bloody gauze, Steve’s eyes were back on you, wide and regretful.

“I’m sorry,” he offered quietly, a genuine apology that sounded almost absurd after you two were hissing at each other like damn hellcats. “I didn’t mean to--- I’m sorry for being rude and ungrateful. Thank you for taking care of my injuries.”

One glance into those deep irises and benign hesitant smile and you were done for. How could you stay mad at him? Well, you were still mad at him for the absolute disregard of his own health, but… well. You also understood he felt like he needed to stay strong for the team and put them first and how he actually was in pain.

Pretty much everyone was a pain in the ass when in pain.

You sighed as you searched for few band-aid strips to cover the cut.  

“It’s alright, Steve. I’m used to old men being grumpy and not meaning things they say when they are,” you offered lightly and he hung his head with a chuckle, clearly not taking the old man remark personally – and understanding you were referring to your brother.

His smile was wider when he looked up again. “You shouldn’t have to be used to it.”

You shrugged, carefully slipping two fingers under his chin to angle his face so you could stick the strips over the wound.

“Well, I deserve it sometimes. I don’t mean to… to be overbearing and make you feel like you’re incompetent or something,” you added hesitantly, worrying your teeth over your lower lip as the tone you’d been handling him with caught up with you. Perhaps you could have been nicer.

You smoothened the stripes of band-aid, gulping as you felt Steve’s gaze boring into your face while you continued.

“I know you’re not incompetent. You’re very capable, you’re the best. It’s just… I still--- worry- for all of you. For the full-time Earth’s mightiest heroes. Silly, huh?” you muttered self-depreciatingly and when your eyes met, you were startled by the intensity he watched you with as you laid your fears bare in front of him, leaving you vulnerable. You swiftly looked away and dropped your hands. “Here, almost as good as new.”

A lump grew in your throat as you stripped your gloves, tossing them into the bin. Did you reveal too much? Didn’t it sound silly indeed as you said it out loud? Yes, you were all friendly with each other, but you were supposed to be a professional, focused on your task, not getting distracted by-

-by Steve gently grasping your wrist, causing your heart to skip a startled beat. Definitely not getting weak in the knees when you shot him a surprised glance and he just… brought your hand to his face, lips briefly skimming over your knuckles.

Jesus Christ, Lord have mercy with me.

“Don’t you ever apologize for caring. Don’t stop caring. Silly is the last thing I’d call it.”

Your cheeks felt like set on fire, stomach fluttering as well as your heart. You could feel the ghost of Steve’s lips on your skin, sending your heartrate sky-high, causing your head to spin a bit, your body hot all over.

Did he really—did he just-? And did it mean that… did it mean anything at all?

He let go of your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles, but held your gaze adamantly as he gave you a sad smile and rose to his feet, clearly ready to leave.

You, on the hand, stood there frozen, mind racing.

Why had he done that? Was he really just trying to express gratitude and say sorry for his previous behaviour? Because that was not the way it was supposed to be done, because such tenderness left you entirely bewildered. Was he trying to tell you he was somehow interested in something more than friendship? Was he just high from the anaesthetic, mind you, local one that was not supposed to mess with his brain? Was there any sign of a head injury you missed?

“Thank you, again,” he whispered softly, moving to sidestep you and your hand instinctively shot out, latching onto his forearm… gently.

You gulped, heart stuttering when he glanced at you, puzzled.

One part of you wanted to sink into the floor in embarrassment at your unwitting reaction. Another part of you observed him so closely that you would swear that there was another emotion in his eyes and it was neither apology nor gratitude. You wistfully hoped for longing, the same longing you felt when you were near him, sometimes distant and barely there, other times so acute it hurt.

With your stomach somersaulting in doubt, you willed yourself to raise your free hand slowly, purposely giving him a chance – Lord, please, don’t let him take it – to stop you before your palm settled on his cheek.

You were certain you experienced a small cardiac arrest when Steve not only didn’t avoid the touch, but actually leaned into it, gaze fixed on your face, eyes brighter and softer than you ever remembered seeing. Your gaze flickered to his mouth deliberately, throat turning dry. Too daring? He kissed you knuckles, surely you could reciprocate some affection?

Swallowing against your dry throat, you leaned in before you could change your mind and dropped the briefest peck to his lips, causing his eyelids to flutter shut.

Oh no. Oh no no no no, you totally crossed a line-

You went to retreat your hands from him, but the second you moved, his eyes were snapping open, hand covering yours on his face to keep it there, the other cradling your face and then there was a warm and soft sensation on your own lips as he seized them with his.

Your mind went completely blank save two single thoughts: Steve is kissing me. I really like that.

A small sound escaped you, a blend of surprise and contentment, breaking you from your trance and turning you into an actual participant of the pleasant and entirely unexpected activity.

You drew in a small breath, head spinning from the scent of Steve’s shampoo, disinfectant, sweat and something you couldn’t quite put your finger on and not caring.

He tasted faintly of blood, but otherwise was nothing but sweet as his lips caressed yours, gently tugging at your lower lip and then the upper, the lightest graze of teeth and tease of tongue, finger pressing into your jaw to pull you closer, thumb stroking your cheek.

You whimpered involuntarily when his lips parted from yours, soothing as they returned for a short peck, to drop a brief kiss to the corner of your mouth, to brush your cheek.

Your name was a breathy whisper between the two of you, barely audible as all you could hear was your heartbeat pulsing frantically in your ears, growing aware of your fingers clutching at Steve’s still unzipped armour and nearly sinking in his hair, his hot breath tickling your skin.

You didn’t dare to open your eyes – what if you dreamed it up? What if you looked at him and saw regret – it didn’t feel like he would be regretting it, but… still. Insecurity tugged at your mind as it slowly cleared from the literally breath-taking kiss.

Steve repeated your name with urgency that was unheard of, the single word sounding almost as a plea.

“Please say something.”

Oh.

You blinked your eyes open, surprised to be met with his searching gaze, a minute furrow of his brows. It seemed you weren’t the only one whose mind was being the worst of one’s enemies.

Perhaps your brain was being stupid. Perhaps you both wanted this. Perhaps you felt exactly the same.

As you forced yourself to move, fingers actually slipping into his hair to caress his nape, Steve inhaled shakily, shoulders slumping. The tinniest of smiles tugged at his mouth, tempting red and minutely swollen from the kiss; you had to resist the urge to just taste it again.

Instead, you licked your lips only, savouring the previous sensations, smiling unwittingly.

“That’s… uhm, that’s a really creative new way of driving me crazy.”

Steve’s eyebrows rose along with one corner of his mouth, relief written all over his face.

“Oh? There are other ways in which I’m driving you crazy? Because I couldn’t tell...”

You narrowed your eyes, but you didn’t think he bought you unconvincing act of being irritated with him at such remark.

“Don’t push it, Captain,” you warned him, but your treacherous mouth kept curling up in a smile, your body still buzzing with aftershocks of the kiss.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Uh-huh… s-sure,” you stuttered briefly as his thumb caressed your cheek, bright smiling eyes watching only inches from your face – and yet it felt like he was too far.

“You’re driving me crazy too, you know,” he noted in a breathy voice, causing you to gulp as his gaze flickered to your mouth, clearly implying how you do so… among other ways… like your stubbornness practically matching his.

“Oh really? I do? I couldn’t tell…”

He chuckled, his hand slipping to your nape, soft tickle of his fingers making you squirm.

“I’m gonna kiss you again now if that’s okay,” he whispered, not waiting for your permission and erasing the distance between your lips again.

Still, you whispered your approval to his mouth.

“So okay…”

Long moments later when Sam called out to warn you that you’d be landing soon, you said yes to the grumpy old man’s request to let him treat you dinner.

Oh if you only knew by then how far you’d come…

Lost in thought, goofy smile on your face, you exited the bathroom, ready to snuggle your future husband… and to fully take the opportunity to make love, last night before you officially became his and he became yours.

You had a brief second to register that the bed was empty, your heart skipping a started and disappointed beat. The second you stepped out though, you were literally swept off your feet.

A yelp erupted from your throat as you found yourself with no ground under your feet and high in the air, one of Steve’s arms under your knees, the other under your back. Your hands frantically gripped at the nearest firm point, Steve’s shoulder and arm as you finally realized what the hell happened and was met with a cheeky grin and sparkling blue of his eyes.

That traitor was waiting just by the door to ambush you! Why?

You slapped his very much bare shoulder playfully, hissing a curse, not unaware of the heat radiating of him and seeping into your skin.

“You jerk! You almost gave me a heart attack!” you complained, but he didn’t even have the decency to look apologetic.

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

“No, you’re not.”

Steve grinned wider, shrugging and pulling you closer to his torso, nuzzling your temple and dropping a placatory kiss there.

“Still looking a little cold.”

“No, I look like this because you scared me,” you emphasized, vainly trying to resist the seduction; a mixture of playfulness, sweetness and blatant display of strength as he still held you with ease. It was hard not to be temped. “And you look like you’re awfully warm, parading here without a shirt.”

“Well, I’d call us even since you’re parading around in these absolutely sinful shorts. Makes me hot. I can warm you up,” he mumbled to your skin, lips moving to your ear, causing you to shudder.

How was it so easy for him to make you all hot and bothered? You guessed that at least, as he said, it made you even... it wasn’t difficult to get him riled up either.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Driving you crazy?” Steve offered, sounding awfully delighted at the idea and you only melted into him further at the reminiscence of your first kiss and what followed.

“Always,” you confirmed, deadly serious, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips or the mewl that escaped you when his teeth grazed the shell of your ear, warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of your neck.

“But you love it.”

“Uh-huh…”

“I can live with that with that then,” he said, stalking to the bed determinately. “Now let me drive you so crazy you can barely speak and the only sound you’re making is whimpering my name.”

He all but tossed you on the bed, a yelp of his name in fact erupting from your throat, followed by a fit of giggles that only died when his mouth seized yours, his lips only leaving when heading south to indeed drive you crazy.

And yes; you loved it.

And you loved him too.

In one unending moment I fall within your reach My song a sweet surrender Hold on to me Hold on to me

Before the girls could steal you from him, Steve decided – with your enthusiastic agreement – that you should once again try how it felt to make some morning lovin’ outside marriage. With the ceremony planned for the late afternoon, you had plenty of time; and needless to say, it was bliss. Then again, you believed that marital sex with Steve would be just as delightfully pleasant, thank you very much.

Then, it was a whirlwind – make up, hair, dress, a tear or two spilled when you saw the result in the mirror.

More tears spilled when you glanced out of the window and saw the tastefully and modestly decorated arch, the path created by few scattered rose petals, the male part of your almost family sans Clint in the suits, effectively hiding Steve from you; and you from his just in case, because no one wanted any bad luck.

Your staring was interrupted when your brother went to pick you up to lead you down the aisle.

Upon entering the room and setting his gaze on you, he promptly looked away with a sniffle. It both warmed your heart and made you laugh as did his remark.

“Nope, not giving you to him. In fact, I’m never giving you to anyone. No one will ever be worthy, so I’m keeping you.”

“Hush, Clinton, you’ll still have me,” Natasha winked at him as he took a deep calming breath before carefully eyeing you again.

Clearly, it hadn’t done the job, because few tears still found their way down his cheeks.

“You’re a knock-out, sis,” he sputtered hastily, but no less honestly – clearly moved to tears.

And yet… you snorted at his choice of words and he rolled his eyes, quick to compliment your beauty instead.

You wouldn’t have it any other way though, even appreciating his first remark more for it came from the bottom of his heart rather than from what convention required.

Embracing you carefully in fear he would mess up the work of art his wife and other girls created, he held you in his arms for a moment, as you retuned the hug, clutching at his suit with a little too force. From the corner of your eye, you noticed the bridesmaids clearing the room.

“It’s not like I’m leaving you, Bobo,” you hummed with a smile, throwing his own words from last night at him.

And you weren’t leaving him; your heart swelled with love for your brother, your father figure, your long-life friend.

With sniffle, he let go of you and looked you up and down, proud smile spreading on his lips.

“It’s okay. If you are, I have the best spy in the world for a wife, we’ll drag your ass back home.”

You just slapped his chest playfully and took a deep breath – it was time. Clint grasped your hand firmly then, elbows interlocking, and went to step out just a moment after the bridesmaids left to join the groomsmen.

Well-aware everyone was going to stare and that Steve awaited you at the end of the aisle to marry you, your legs were shaking minutely as the magnitude of the event finally dawned to you.

“Getting second thoughts now?” Clint teased you, eliciting a chuckle from you and shake of your head.

What a question.

“No. Just… please don’t let me fall,” you muttered to him, entirely serious and grateful for your choice of footwear – simple flats hidden by the long flowing skirt of your dress. Better chance of not spraining your ankle on your wedding day.

“Never.”

Clint squeezed your hand under his warm palm and you took a deep breath, stepping into the doorway. Soft melody welcomed you, your very own wedding march Bruce was playing on a mouth organ – something you had previously had no idea he was capable of.  

Looking up from your skirt, you feasted your eyes on the company and the beautiful scenery for only a regretfully short moment, grateful for Sam’s Redwing programmed to record and take photos.

Your gaze instinctively searched the small crowd instead, until it fell under the arch where three men stood.

One of them was Sam himself, having obtained a licence so he could be your wedding registrar; he looked positively dashing. So did Bucky, who patted his best friend dressed in his old-fashioned green captain uniform on the shoulder, his smirk visible even from tens feet away as he stepped back.

Naturally, your gaze lingered on Steve, your feet acting of their own accord and following your brother’s lead.

Gosh, your future husband was the most handsome and absolutely hottest specimen to ever walk the Earth. Hair combed neatly to one side and in his old army uniform, he truly looked like the gentleman from another era he was and yet, he undeniably belonged exactly where he was. His eyes were bright and blue just like the sky, lips slightly parting before curling up into a brilliant smile which somehow still carried the tenderness he treated you with when he felt particularly affectionate.

He must have uttered something under his breath, because Bucky pressed his lips together as if he was holding back laugh. The absolutely best best man, ladies and gentleman.

Your found yourself smiling just as widely, a stray tear tickling the corner of your eye and you had to fight the sudden urge to ditch Clint in order to gather your skirts and run the rest of the way just to jump into Steve’s arms.

But in reality, there was no rush – here, on the damn island Tony rented, there was so much time that one short walk meant nothing in comparison.

“Alright, maybe I’ll give you to him,” Clint whispered, making you bite the inside of your cheek so you would cackle.

Leave it to your brother he would find Steve Rogers so fine he’d be willing to give you out just to have him become a part of your family.

One corner of Steve’s lips twitched in amusement – supersoldier hearing didn’t miss the remark then. Good. Then Bucky heard it too and you had a witness just in case Clint would change his mind. Again.

Finally, with your heart almost in your throat, you reached the end of the aisle, Clint gently putting your hand into Steve’s… without letting go.

“You be nice to her, Cap. And I mean really nice, you hear? Or else-“

“Hush,” you hissed good-naturedly in your brother’s direction, winking at him before you returned your gaze to Steve. “Hey there, handsome.”

Steve chuckled under his breath when Clint stepped back. He returned the greeting with soft ‘hey there, beautiful’ and then proceeded to lift your joined hands, brushing your knuckles with his lips – just like the day you shared your first kiss.

Well now you truly found yourself on the verge of crying. And Lord, you wanted to kiss him so much-

Sam cleared his throat loudly, casting you both a meaningful look as if he could read your mind and wanted to remind you that there were a few things to go through before that could happen.

Ugh. Formalities. Just let me kiss him…

Steve licked his lips – the audacity! – and turned, lightly tugging at your hand so you both faced your friend who held a little leather book open, beckoning towards the guests: Bucky and Natasha, the best man and the best woman, Clint, Bruce, Tony, Vision, Wanda, Sharon, Pepper. Just your closest friends and family.

Sam cleared his throat again.

“Alright. We all know why we gathered here today. To get these two amazing people married, so they could officially become a special team within our team.”

You grinned, peripherally noticing Steve eyeing you as well. Team indeed.

“This is the part where I would ask all of you, bride and groom included, to speak up now if you’re aware of anything standing in the way of this wedlock or to remain silent forever. But frankly, if you have something to say, right now is the perfect time to keep it to yourself. Just let these lovebirds get married…”

Muffled laughter and giggles erupted from your group. Honestly, you wouldn’t say it better. You noticed Clint shifting and Natasha forcefully holding his hand down; you bit down on your lip so you wouldn’t laugh and sent her a grateful smile instead. The best maid of honour ever.

“Good, that’s what I wanted to hear, folks. We have the rings, correct? Great. Just so you know, these two saps asked me to read one vow which they are making to each other, because they didn’t trust themselves to say theirs individually without bursting into tears. So now it’s left to me to cry instead. Thanks for that.”

Your cheeks were honestly starting to hurt from smiling so wide, but tears prickled in your eyes acutely just at the thought of the vow you agreed on. You spent countless hours thinking about what you wanted to say and realized that your vow would be too long and that you would in fact start crying and that you could never name all the things you loved Steve for. It had been a relief to find out that Steve shared the sentiment and the deal was made.

Natasha and Bucky dutifully laid the rings on the pillow Wanda’s powers held levitating by your and Steve’s side – not without Bucky finding a split second to compliment your appearance and earning a brief smirk from Steve.

“I know,” Steve uttered and you wondered if there was a dare going around as to who would make you burst out laughing first.

This was your wedding dammit. You could be at least a bit a lady and remain collected.

Hardly.

“With this ring,” Sam started, breathing in and out and you knew you already lost, first tear rolling down your cheek as you gazed into Steve’s inviting eyes, “I give myself to you without giving up myself. With this ring, I surrender to you for I have faith you understand the value of wielding such power and for I deem you worthy of it. With this ring, I promise to love you, to respect you and to support you to be your best self as I trust you to do the same for me, for us.”

You blinked away the waterfalls, reaching almost blindly for Steve’s ring and with fingers trembling – with giddiness, not nerves – you somehow succeeded at slipping it on his left ring finger.

“I do,” you whispered, your voice cracking even in such simple sentence and the watery smile Steve graced you with made your ribcage feel too small for your swelling heart.

Fingers equally clumsy, he slipped a ring on you as well, shoulders squaring as if in pride.

“I do,” he said firmly, the damp path down his left cheek only adding severity to his vow.

“You may-- uhm, okay, you may kiss the bride, your wife--- I mean, Mrs. Rogers. You may kiss the groom, your husband…” Sam mumbled under his breath until he didn’t, because Steve pulled you in for a kiss the same moment Sam said the first ‘may’ and incidentally, the same moment you practically threw yourself at Steve.

Laughter and whistles erupted from the group of your friends as Steve bend you back dramatically, the determined press of his lips to yours not at all disrupted by the change of angle, claiming your mouth in ways that made you shudder and stirred flames in your belly.

Years and years later, you’d recall that kiss and realized an amazing thing; how it felt just like your first kiss, your last one, and every single one in between.

With you still practically horizontal, Steve’s crinkling eyes met yours, delighted smile on his kiss-swollen lips.

“I love you, Mrs. Rogers,” he hummed, adding a cheeky grin. “You’re stuck with me now.”

“The horror,” you muttered back teasingly, pulling at his nape, demanding another kiss, your own declaration whispered to his mouth. “I love you too, Mr. Rogers.”

And you did. Gosh, you did.

S.R. masterlist

(divider by firefly-graphics)

Well. This turned out SO DIFFERENTLY than I anticipated and SO MUCH LONGER. If you feel like leaving feedback, I’ll be grateful. If not, well. *shurgs*

Excuse me while I go and continue dreaming of ONE fictional man. Ugh. Anyway.

Thank you for reading!

And once again, thanks to WIYBUPT for hosting and for just being awesome in general :)

[blu-joons]

Slow Dance ~ Kang Taehyun

The two of you had been laid out on the sofa for most of the day on a rare day of for Taehyun. Neither of you really knew what to do with yourselves, or the time that you had, opting to just laze around and enjoy the peace that came with having nothing to do.

For the most part, Taehyun enjoyed sitting around and doing nothing, but as the day passed, he began to get more restless. The artist in him just couldn’t sit still, however much he tried, his body always just needed to move and dance.

As he began to tap his feet again, your eyes looked across to him. “Do you want to get up and do something?”

His smile slowly grew, as his head nodded. “I can’t sit still any longer, I don’t know what to do.”

You stood up from the sofa first, holding your hands out for him to take, pulling him up with you. A loud groan came from him as he rose to his feet for the first time in hours, shaking his arms and legs out to try and wake them up again.

Once they were, his arms snaked around your waist. “It’s been nice just having a day to spend with you and not worry about work, even if we’ve done nothing.”

“Sometimes nothing is what you need to do most in a day.”

His head nodded in agreement as yours settled against his chest comfortably. It was strange for him to ever have this much time available to him to spend with you, he was still yet to figure out exactly how he wanted to spend it with you.

Natural instinct soon took over him as he began to sway you side to side in the living room, kicking the cushions that you’d thrown off the sofa earlier in the day out of the way. As Taehyun began to move, your body moved with his, focusing on your left and right.

His ability to dance was something that you admired greatly in Taehyun, whilst steps came easily to him, you often had to focus a little more to make sure you didn’t dance with two left feet.

“We should dance more often,” Taehyun suddenly spoke into your ear, squeezing you a little bit tighter. “I reckon I could teach you a thing or two.”

Your head pulled back away from his chest, “I’m a terrible dancer, you’ll never be able to teach me any of the things that you do.”

His head nodded, smiling at how innocently you stared up at him. “I didn’t mean that I was going to teach you any of what I do. I meant more about the basics, maybe a slow dance? You can never go wrong with a slow dance.”

Your eyes widened at his remark, “shall we put it to the test?” You suggested, surprised when his head nodded back at you, keen to at least give it a try.”

Taehyun’s hands moved down to settle on your waist, encouraging you to move yours up so that they were wrapped around his neck. The close proximity between the two of you caused your heart to race, unable to bring your eyes to look at him anymore.

His smile grew at how hard you tried to avoid his gaze, eventually tapping the back of your head to rest it back against his chest. Slowly, Taehyun began to step side to side, staring down at your feet to make sure that you were doing the same.

As you settled against him, you could feel the rise and fall of his heavy heart too, embracing the feeling of being able to have you so close to him.

“You’re dancing,” he whispered down to you, pressing his lips into the top of your head. “Just keep following my lead,” he instructed, beginning to move a little faster around the room as you desperately tried to keep up with him.

As the two of you began to work in sync, Taehyun couldn’t help but let go of a shaky breath. These were the moments he missed so much because of his work, little flutters of romance were all that he was ever able to give you, never something as intimate as this.

“So, when you said you couldn’t dance,” Taehyun spoke up once again, “you were definitely lying. You’ve not got a step wrong so far.”

“Are you really trying to jinx me right now?”

A light chuckle came from him as his head shook, focussing back on your dancing. Just as you began to settle, you felt his hand intertwine in with your own, lifting it up and twirling you underneath his arm. A sharp intake of breath came from you at the sudden movement, practically toppling into Taehyun’s chest to try and steady yourself.

Luckily for you, his strong arms quickly caught you, with his eyes falling instantly on the bright shade of red that your cheeks wore. You buried yourself into his chest as soon as you felt how flustered you became, refusing to look at him no matter how many times he pleaded with you to look back up into his eyes.

“I told you that you’d end up jinxing me,” you laughed as you tried to find your footing once again. “I warned you not to say anything, and then you go and talk.”

“You’re fine,” Taehyun laughed, “I would have caught you anyway, there’s no need to be so nervous to dance with me.”

Your eyes rolled as he pulled you closer into his waist again, resting your hands against his chest. “I’m nervous to dance in general, especially with a superstar like you.”

Instead of talk, Taehyun began to dance around the living room once again, counting to three each time to make sure that you kept up with him perfectly. Whilst he knew that you didn’t quite compare to him just yet, just what you were doing was more than enough for him.

To be able to try something new was all that he wanted with you. “I reckon we save this for the next family wedding and show off to everyone,” he suggested.

“A slow dance isn’t exactly impressive,” you hummed.

Taehyun’s head shook, squeezing you tighter into his chest. “It’s not about the dance, it’s about showing everyone how in love we are, and nothing shows that better than a dance.”

If his family weren’t already aware of how in love with you, he was, then being able to spend special moments like these around them together would certainly do the trick. He wasn’t afraid to let anyone know how in love he was with you.

“We should do this more often,” he whispered down to you.

His smile grew as your head nodded against his chest, “maybe slow dancing wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I might even say that I was good at it.”

“You were perfect at it,” Taehyun quickly clarified, “but in my eyes, you’re perfect at everything so I guess that doesn’t really count for much,” he laughed, pressing his lips delicately against the top of your head.

“I’m far from perfect Taehyun.”

“Not to me, you aren’t.”

---

Masterlist

[lovesanmotion]

yandere!fanboy!ateez reacts: s/o writing a song about them

This is: requested | I guess....the yandere!ateez as fanboys are a success from what I can see. I only uploaded them without thinking. Also, don’t hesitate to blow up my request box! I’m jobless like Hongjoong, Yeosang and Wooyoung. Also, to the sender who requested this, thank you so much for appreciating my blog and writing! 

Lyrics I placed in order:  Love Battery - LOONA (Immortal Songs)  Shadow - F(x)  Going Crazy - Secret Jieun ft. BAP Yongguk Peekaboo - Red Velvet Shampoo - After School Babe - Hyuna Into You - Yuri Love Foolish - TWICE 

Hongjoong: 

“Even if you are not handsome, I like it. Even if you’re not buff, I like it. You are just for me, to me, you are the best.” 

Hongjoong stood among the crowd with a foolish smile painted on his lips. His hands placed on top of his chest as he listens to your new song that you are performing at your comeback concert. 

“Hold me one more time. Hold me tightly until I burst. Love’s effect must be fading. I need you.” 

A soft sigh escapes his lips dramatically. Lovestuck as he watches the love of his life sing a song about him and how she constantly needed his touch or else she’d die from his lack of attention on her. 

“Fill me with love. Love battery has drained. I can’t live without you, I really can’t live without you. You are my battery.” 

He clutches his chest tightly, his heart beating loudly inside. He didn’t cared how wild the others were cheering for your comeback stage, all that matters to him is that this song was made for him. Just for him. Normally he would promote your songs by requesting them on radio stations, but he hesitated on the idea of promoting it. This was his song. And only he gets the full rights to enjoy it. The others are just listening to it, he thought that you were kind enough to let everyone hear the song you made especially for him. 

“To me, you are everything. I like you so much, I totally like you. My only love, there’s no other, my love. You are the best.” 

As the comeback concert ended, everyone inside the concert hall talked about how your comeback song is a hit and promised to get you another music show win. The others gushed how you must be in love that you wrote a song about affection. 

Hongjoong could only chuckle to himself as he walks out of the venue, hands filled with your individual merchandise and a wallet almost empty after emptying the shelves of your concert goods. 

“Stupid fools think that the song is for them when in fact the song is about me. Me! Only me! Why would Y/N ever notice all of you when a whole me exists?” Hongjoong thought to himself as he walked alone late that night. 

Seonghwa: 

“Everyday, I secretly chase after your footsteps. I’m always careful so you won’t notice. No one says it but our date has started, our own date.” 

Click click! Seonghwa focuses his camera on a different angle before taking another shot of you. Click click! 

“Where are you going? Step by step, I follow you. Without a word you lead me. Step by step, did you notice me? I have nowhere to hide anymore.” 

Yesterday, Starlight made a comeback and today, they are performing their comeback song at a radio station. For this comeback, Starlight’s Y/N participated in the song writing, having been credited two songs in the mini album. She partook writing the comeback song! 

“When the sun rises, I walk in sync and together with you. I am really really into you. When the moon rises, you fall asleep in my arms. I really really like you.” 

Seonghwa’s parents had been praising him for landing a wonderful job in the corporate world. When in reality, he was only hired by a fellow sasaeng that gave him much flexible work hours so he could still manage to slip out of his work and follow your every footstep in the country or out. He was being paid fairly well even when all he did was just to follow you around.

“Day by day, we resemble each other more and more. Your laughter and tears, I know it all. Don’t be scared, were a fate tied by the sun, its our destiny to be together.” 

As the performance ended, the girls sat back down on their seats and the interview rolled in. Fansites can only hang outside of the studio, and of course, Seonghwa is up close, nearest to Y/N. 

“Congratulations to Starlight! This is their third comeback and the song is really catchy!” The MC remarked. 

“It’s sounds like a summer song! I heard Y/N took part in the production?” The second MC asked, the cameras then turned to face Y/N. Y/N who was flustered, nodded her head. “Yes” 

“Can you tell us the story behind the song? Your fans are dying to know the meaning behind such a good song.” The first MC says. 

Y/N held the microphone in her head, smiling, she explained: “This is a true to life song. I made a song about a guy who was really handsome and captured my heart. We were always going in the same direction and one time, his hand brushed into mine. And I felt so happy by the small connection.” Y/N chuckles. 

When Seonghwa heard about it, he lowered his camera and stared at Y/N. The song was about him. He remembered how he would spend his vacant period at work to follow Y/N when they were shooting an ad around Namsan because of the newly built skywalk. His hand brushed on hers when they were buying food at the convenient store. Seonghwa was so moved by the explanation that he felt like his feelings grew more for you. 

“My sunshine likes getting attention. My attention. That’s right, my sunshine, bathe in my attention only. ” 

Yunho: 

“It’s not love, this isn’t love. It’s just your obsession. Wherever, Whatever I do. It’s frightening. The you who watches me.”

Yunho watched as Y/N practices for her upcoming comeback stage at The Show next week. He admired how she dare approached a bold and mature comeback. And he was so happy to see this new side of his girl. However, he felt like he needed to be more protective of her since she was going for a more risque concept. 

“Have you gone crazy? Why are you like this? Please just leave me alone now. Seeing you is suffocating. Please disappear from my sight.” 

Yunho stood behind the cameras as he watches Y/N and the featured artist practice. He heard a few staffs make a comment about how the featured artist looks like him. And maybe how you might’ve fallen in love with him. Yunho’s feeling swelled when he heard of those comments. In fact, he was so happy that he heard it from them. But you on the other hand, why do you still deny your feelings for him? Why was it so hard for you to be up front and honest with what you feel? Is it because he works as your manager? You’re in the same company as he is? And that you kept insisting to be professional? At this point, Yunho would resign if that was the case. If he can’t have you because of his line of work, he would be more than pleased to resign and be in your arms everyday. 

“Get lost. Just back off. I really can’t breathe. Wherever I go, wherever I am. It’s frightening. The you who follows me.” 

Yunho managed to lift the debts off his family. After paying the debts, he was able to even buy a new home for them around Gangnam area. His parents hesitated on the idea at first since owning a land in Gangnam costs way more than renting, Yunho told them not to worry. Not to worry since he is being paid royalty in his job. After that, he was able to spoil you with luxurious gifts and live with you in your apartment. More like forced himself into your home. 

“This ain’t right, this isn’t love. It just hurts me, don’t be like this. I loved you. But I don’t now. Erase me from your memory.” 

And when the song was released, Yunho was all up for promoting it. He made everyone he know listen to the song in various streaming platforms and watch the MV as well. Whether you would like it or not, Yunho is here to stay in your life. Permanently. 

Yeosang: 

“Peekaboo! This is new, is this love? All my friends yell at me, they say I have a problem. I’m fine fine fine fine fine fine.” 

A small painted Yeosang lips as his eyes followed you on stage. He watched you as you danced in a tight red dress. That was his gift for you last Christmas to be exact. The designer brand didn’t really put it out for sale. They only made one and had it up for auction. It was a dress that accentuated your curves and complimented your skin. Yeosang won the auction and had it included in your next comeback. 

“Tag you’re it! It’ll be fun! I’ll include you here. Til the moon hangs on the jungle gym, let’s play” 

Since Yeosang is someone who holds a high position in the company, he made a proposal to be your sponsor. At first, your members didn’t like the idea since sponsors have a bad reputation attached to it. But you were naive and still proceeded with the sponsorship. You thought it would go bad, but Yeosang made you feel comfortable in his home and gave you all the fame that you wanted. Never did he once ask anything that was against your morals. 

“Peekaboo! It’s strange, you’re different. I stop this game and I look at you again. I’m not a fraid, because I just felt that a new story will begin” 

Your members were still cautious about Yeosang orbitting around you. There was something about him that they could not lay a finger on. Scared that they would find their contracts terminated the following day. But seeing you happy, they felt like they needed to stop. As long as you are happy, they are happy. Yeosang included. 

“Don’t worry, my love. You’re safe with me. Anyone who accuses you will come to me first.” 

San: 

It was 9pm when you made a surprise V live alone in the recording room of your company building. San was actually nearby, he was hid inside the convenient store where he bumped into you before. 

“Hello everyone! Have you all eaten? I missed you alot.” He watches his Y/N pout in the screen. His heart raced a bit, 

“I ate already, my love. Don’t worry.” San responds, as if it was only him that you were talking to. 

“I made a new song and I’m in the recording room. Apparently, I was given permission to spoil the song for you!” Y/N happily takes her phone and draws it closer to the company phone of where she is doing her live. 

“I wanna be shampoo Trickling down your hair I wanna embrace you With my strong fragrance  I will wrap around your entire body With white foam  So even the mirrors can’t see you I will cover you  So no one can have you You won’t ever get rid of my scent” 

“That’s all the spoil for now.” Y/N stops the recording and turns the camera to her face again. She leaned her face closer and read a few comments about how would the fans think. 

“What is your inspiration behind this song?” She read aloud. She leaned back in her seat with her lips pursed. “In all honesty, I met a male fan last week. I actually bumped into him and I was able to smell his perfume and...” Y/N paused. “He smelled so good that...was it possible to fall in love just by smelling their perfume?” Y/N chuckles softly. 

San had his eyes wide. The song was about him. He felt like bursting from his seat but he refrained himself from doing so. 

“I hope he isn’t a weird fan. I also have a fan who constantly bothers me even at the late hours. It’s bothering me. And I hope the person stops soon.” Y/N said. Double jackpot! He got mentioned twice by you. He couldn’t wait until the song releases, he was already booking train station platforms in honor for the release of your song. 

Mingi: 

Was it possible to fall in love with just a touch? Ever since the incident at the Incheon Airport, your company has become stricter and hired more bodyguards when it comes to outside activities. From what you heard, VS Media is even rewriting their rules when it comes to fan and idol gift giving. 

“Come on, let me play some more. Why treat babies gently, I cannot count on you, my age. You’ve walked in any magic. I am the one for you. Everyday I wake up. This is mine.” 

Ever since the incident at the airport, you slightly became uncomfortable with the idea of leaving the dorm. Despite your feelings, rest assured that your members were always there for you. 

“I am not sleeping today. I remember my eyes. I’m not sleeping.”

It’s been a month since you stepped foot inside the airport again, things were going okay. You were able to walk inside and through the gates without any problem. The fans still following your footsteps, you tried to loosen up yourself a bit - smiling and waving at them. Nothing could go wrong. 

Until, you saw a figure from your peripheral vision. You turned your head to take a look, but no one was there. Strange. As you and your group were able to board the plane, you took a seat near the window and pulled out your lyrics notebook. Flipping through the pages, you stopped at an unfinished work. The unfinished work is your solo song used as an outro for Starlight’s upcoming full album. 

“Babe babe babe in your eyes. Babe babe babe in your hand. My appearance is babe babe babe babe. I want to hear it again.”

“Are you writing a song?” You were startled with the question. You turned your head and didn’t noticed how a man with a mask and cap sat besides you already. 

“Yes I am” You spoke softly. “Can I read it?” the man besides you asked. 

You hesitantly gave him the notebook, the man took it and read through the lyrics. 

“I like how you composed the song. It’s still in its raw form too. You’re a genius.” The man complimented. You smiled and thanked him for the compliment. The next thing you knew shocked you. 

The man placed a hand on your knee, his other free hand removed his mask and cap. Song Mingi. At that moment, you couldn’t process what was happening. All you knew was that your mind kept telling you to tell at least your members. But your body started heating up at his touch. 

“Did you miss me?” 

Wooyoung: 

Wooyoung had disguised himself as the photographer for your album. The night before it came, he worked on creating his fake ID and borrowed a spare camera to use for the production. 

“At that smile that sees my eyes. For me, the whole world is bathed in light. Hold my hands and I close my eyes. I hope this time stops here.”

Wooyoung’s breath almost took away as he saw you in black under shorts and wrinkled and almost unbuttoned white button down. He didn’t know what the concept was but his eyes were already feasting on your body, not ever feeling full. 

“Fall in love more deeply, you and I. Let’s fall in deeply, you and I together. The one thing that I want. You seep into me, you spread inside of me.” 

“Ms Y/N taking the bold move of doing her first sexy concept.” Y/N’s manager teased her. Wooyoung knew everyone who was on set. Him, Y/N, Y/N’s manager, stylist, make up artist and a few production crew that wasn’t part of VS Media. 

“What’s the story behind this concept?” Y/N’s manager asked, Wooyoung could only stare in awe at Y/N. Never did he see this side of her. He always knew of Y/N as the sweet and bubbly girl in soft concepts. But of course, Wooyoung love to break the types. 

“I actually like to search my name on the internet. And I came across fanfics of myself.” Y/N chuckles. Oh that sweet sound that made Wooyoung’s heart beat fast. The audio recorders can never outdo it. 

“There is a certain blog that possibly does a lot. That blog posts photos of me, writes fanfics and posts my schedules too. He’s doing god works for my other fans.” Y/N chuckles. As the production of the photoshoot started, Wooyoung did his best to capture the real beauty of this side of Y/N. 

“What a hardworking fan. What’s the name of the blog?” 

“ForY/N” 

Wooyoung’s eyes widens as he heard the name of his blog. His blog inspired you to make a song....about him? 

“Filling my whole heart. With you, I feel my heart. Fall in love more deeply, you and I. Let’s fall in deeply, you and I together.” 

“The way that person writes really amazes me. I’d like to get to know the person.” Y/N explains. His mind fell into a spiral. Part of him wanted the song to be released already but there was also a part of him that wanted the song to be released for him only. 

“Wish will soon become tomorrow. Today is more heart fluttering than yesterday. I want to go together with you. Closer to the place where my dream reaches.”

The bonus thing about what Wooyoung did today is that as a photographer, he was able to keep some of the photos. Running away even with some. 

Jongho: 

Jongho fell in line for the release of your album. He was actually second in line as he was actually camping outside of the building of your company. 

“Everyday I called out your name, about a thousand times, about ten million times Before you finally heard it Cut and rewind, why can’t you be mine? Ooh the one who spins my head like this It’s you, just running running running around you  My repeatedly-midnight promise  I don’t know what to do”

Jongho, who had his arms crossed over his chest, looked up and down to turn around where that song was coming from. He hasn’t heard of this song but he knew that was your voice.

“Crazy love!  I love you, love you, hate, foolish Crazy love!  I love you Make me feel so high Love!  I love you, love you, hate, foolish Crazy love!  I hate you Make me so bad It’s weird, the more I fall for you I’m sorry, I’ll hate you I don’t know, I can’t explain this I’m trapped in a labyrinth of strange emotions”

The whole room was adorned with your own merchandise and on the TV display was actually an MV of your b side. Jongho took a basket and grabbed a handful of your limited and regular version of your albums, along with a packet of your photocards and a griptok. 

As he was in line to pay for his orders, in which his basket was filled as he actually bought more of your items. You made a sudden appearance into the room. For Jongho, he felt as if the room got brighter when you suddenly stepped inside. When it was his turn to pay for his items, the people behind the counter were amazed at how many he was able to fit into his basket. 

Tapping his feet impatiently, he wanted to be able to greet you before you left the room. When his bag was handed to him, he immediately took it and sped walk towards your direction, talking to a few. 

He felt as if the gods were with him. As he drew closer to you, the ones you were talking to left and it just you and him now. 

“Hello Y/N!” Jongho greeted. You turned to him happily. “Hello!” 

“I really really like this song of yours!” He gushed happily. “Can you tell me about it?” 

You nodded happily. “The song is actually about someone who makes me feel happy, the idea of love in a dangerous way? The idea send me thrills.” You chuckled. Jongho felt ecstatic. Beyond the moon even. You wrote a song about him! 

That afternoon when he got home, he made sure that everyone in Seoul would be able to hear the song that you made. It was for him so he had full brag rights to do so. 

[put-me-in-a-movie-mp3]

Hi!! Could I get a stranger things ship? I’m bisexual so no gender preference and I go by she/they pronouns!

Personality: I’m an INFJ and Ravenclaw. I am a leo sun, capricorn moon and libra rising. I am extremely shy and awkward. I am a true introvert and honestly have trouble speaking at all. Even in my friendships I like being the listener. I am described as the mom/therapist friend and am always giving advice. I’ve been described as wise a lot. I’ve been told I am gentle by lots of peers and teachers. I’ve also been told that I have the demeanor of a mom??? There are only a few people I let loose around. I like to joke around and have a unique sense of humor. Some might just think it’s weird lol. One of the reasons I like playing DnD so much is because I can pretend to be another person.

Appearance: I’m 5’8”, hourglass body shape, chubby/midsize, long wavy dark brown hair (basically black), pale olive toned skin, brown eyes. I have three stick n’ poke tattoos and one professional tattoo. I’m planning on getting loads more! I usually wear dark clothes, mostly black. I like a mixture of feminine and masculine clothes. I like wearing jeans, band tees, skirts and sweaters.

Interests: I have always had a love of the occult. I love anything dark and scary. I watch horror movies practically daily and play mostly horror games (except for the sims 4 lmao). I enjoy reading about true crime and creepy pastas. I am a practicing witch and am super into Tarot/Astrology/Crystals. I do Tarot readings for all of my friends and family and have done everyone’s birth charts. I am a HUGE DnD nerd and am playing in two campaigns at the moment (my favorite being Curse of Strahd). In high-school I was a part of the DnD club. I hope to DM my own game one day. My favorite movie series of all time is Lord of the Rings. It is a huge comfort series for me. I also collect DC comics and LOVEE Batman/Gotham storylines. Besides that, my favorite movies are The Last Unicorn, The Ring and Labyrinth. I am a college student and am majoring in Psychology. I want to become a CBT therapist. I grew up in an artistic household and do art in my free time. I play piano and guitar as well. I adore animals and have volunteered at a Veterinary Clinic. I’ve had pet dogs, cats, rats, fish and turtles. I used to raise butterflies as well. My mom is a librarian, so I am a big reader. The library is definitely a comfort place for me. I enjoy children’s chapter books, horror, fantasy and (some) romance. Some of my favorite books are Daisy Jones and the Six, The Wikkeling, From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler and Coraline. My parents are both alternative/grunge, so I grew up listening to a lot of rock bands like; Nirvana, The Pixies, Metallica, Smashing Pumpkins, Hole, Foo Fighters, Mazzy Star, Ramones etc. I love many genres ranging from heavy metal to country (more 50s-70s country). My favorite artists are Fleetwood Mac, David Bowie, The Beatles, Nirvana, Mitski, and Dolly Parton.

Thank you so much!!

Of Course! Here you are! :)

Stranger Things

Eddie Munson

You guys end up meeting at vet. Eddie had to bring in one of Dustin's cats, as a favor, and you just so happened to be there. He had absolutely no clue what to do because he did not grow up with animals in his household. You end you filling him in on the information and what to do just to have him bluntly tell you that you're gonna have to call Dustin because he didn't understand and just wouldn't be able to remember. The cat was fine it just had a little cold but also needed to be up to date on some shots it needed. You end up calling Dustin and fill him in only for him to try to hook you up with Eddie towards the end of the phone call. You didn't know Eddie but you knew Dustin from classes you had been in with him, even though you are a senior in high school. Dustin persuaded you into a least trying to get to know Eddie. You had seen him be considered the "freak" at school but you never though that he was one. You just didn't know him. Dustin told you that he was really into rock music, knew how to play the guitar, had his own DnD club called "HellFire", and that he also liked horror movies, just like you. You thought it was so bizarre that you had so much in common that you just had to meet him and you guys were made for each other. Eddie was extremely nervous and you ended up talking about your favorite things with each other. You guys ended up going on more dates and then started officially dating. As you were dating Eddie you joined "HellFire" and even made friends with his friends. You became family with them. You also just so happen to get to know Robin, Steve, Jonathan, and Nancy!

[merlinmyrddin]

Hello!

Can you recommend me some very underatted gay movies? (I prefer comdey or happy ones if it's possible)

I recently came to realize i am a 23 man who happens to be gay. I don't know what took me so long.

Hello! I am sorry for the time it took me to answer you, but your ask has been playing constantly in my head now for weeks and I had to go down nostalgia lane film-wise...!

I'm also sorry for how long this answer is, I got carried away!!!

So first of all, I am damn proud if you. I know it sounds like empty words but whether you're 13, 23, or 45, being able to say you have found your inner truth is always something to be proud of! And what took you so long? It didn't. We are living in times where people want you to believe you are meant to have your sexuality and/or gender figured out by 18 when in reality, I know more people doing their coming out in their 20's/30's. Because when it comes to being gay, lesbian, bi, trans and queer : this last decade has seen some major changes. But it's ok for people born late 80's and 90's to come out "just" now. We grew up in a time where homosexuality was still taboo in most places. And when I say taboo, I mean that "homosexual" was barely pronounced, sometimes only whispered. A time where "gay panic" was a legitimate defense in court. (Talking from a Western European point of view here again. Many places in the world, including the USA still consider the murder of an homosexual or transgender victim as a legitimate act. And these last years has proven that there was not only the "gay/trans panic" crippling our streets, but also a "black panic" and more recently, an "Asian panic". Short aparte here : "gay panic" doesnt mean "omg, that person is making me question my identity!?" nor is it a term used when thirsty over an actor/actress when openly gay such as "[actor name] oh wow...*gay panic intensifies*... this term is a serious concept a murderer can use in court as a defense when taking the life of someone from the community. This is the law enabling hate crimes.)

To any younger people reading this right now : gay marriage has been legal in France since 2013, in the UK since 2014 and, allegedly, in the US since 2015. This is recent history. People who are mid-20's are historically closer to the HIV/AIDs crisis than of the legalisation of same-sex marriage.

As such, we are made to believe than coming out in our twenties or thirties is doing a late coming out. No, it's not. We are a generation who suffered through systemic homophobia in our formative teenage years. When we were trying to figure who we were, people were marching in the streets calling us names, and trying to defend the idea we did not deserve basic humans rights. (As a side note, I am not implying that such issues are not currently happening. This is mostly western European centred again as I am, well, European. This is also targeted towards sexuality orientations, excluding any gender talks as this is still currently a very real societal issue for which the fight has only just begun. Double side note : I'm not yet fully caffeinated. But hopefully you get the general idea despite my flagrant lack of eloquence on this fine morning.)

Alright, let's move on to films then!

I searched for a long time for happy / comedic films but then I realised I was definitly not the right person to answer that. On a general basis, I enjoy dramas. That's my thing.

So instead, I thought I would list you the first LGBTQ+ Films I ever watched, hoping they'll find you well.

-Stonewall (1995). Not my favourite film, but as a kid, it was great first jump into lgbtq+ history. Sad note : The director of this film died of AIDS shortly after.

-Another country (1984) Based in the 1930's in a public school. Starring Rupert Everett (who just a few years ago came to direct "The Happy Prince", a great take on Oscar Wilde and Alfred Douglas, casting himself as Wilde, and Colin Morgan as Bosie...fantastic film, highly recommand), and starring Colin Firth. Teenagers discovering themselves, from homosexuality to politics. (The parralele made is quite interesting as both young men are misfits...one for being gay, one for being Marxist.) Great watch, but a heavy one.

-Maurice. (1987) God, I love this film. It explores not only coming to term with your sexuality but also what it means to be homosexual for the people around you and the impact it can have on your life, depending on your social background. Starring James Wilby, Hugh Grant and Rupert Graves, this is an other drama which leaves you feeling almost raw. I always had an affinity for British film because of how...real they feel. Best example would probably be Danny Boyle himself. You know what I mean... you grow attached and you feel for these characters. And Maurice does just that. Memorable quote : I am an unspeakable of the Oscar Wilde sort. (And you might think : "Oscar Wilde? Again??" And oh boy, yes. Oscar Wilde again. Yes, he is one of the most well known author, mostly because of The Picture of Dorian Gray, but he is also a major part of Queer history. After all, "queer" has been used as a derogatory term for homosexuals for the time...directed at Wilde during his trial for posing as a somdomite. (No typo there.) Being an unspeakable of the Oscar Wilde sort is an other one of the euphemism like "being a friend of Dorothy") And talking about Wilde...

-Wilde (1997). Biopic, Stephen Fry as Oscar, Jude law as Oscar's lover : Bosie. Incredible. Superb film. I can not find words.

-An Englishman in New-York (not the Sting song. Actually yes, kinda the Sting song. Because both the film and the song are about the same man : Quentin Crisp). Biopic. An artist, writer, actor, Quentin Crisp has always bothered. Painting his nails, wearing make up, criticising the royal family. He was a character. John hurt is magnificent as Crisp, who he had already played in 1975 in The Naked Civil Servant, an other great watch.

- A Single Man (2009). With Nicholas Hoult and Colin Firth. This film was a slap in my face. And it has, in my opinion, one of the greatest speech of all time, during a scene in the classroom :

"[...]Let's leave the Jews out of this just for a moment. Let's think of another minority. One that... One that can go unnoticed if it needs to. There are all sorts of minorities, blondes for example... Or people with freckles. But a minority is only thought of as one when it constitutes some kind of threat to the majority. A real threat or an imagined one. And therein lies the fear. If the minority is somehow invisible, then the fear is much greater. That fear is why the minority is persecuted. So, you see there always is a cause. The cause is fear. Minorities are just people. People like us."

-Pride (2014). [TRAILER] Bloody hell, that film. When we talk about lgbtq+ history, we often thing about the pink triangle and the holocaust, Reagan, Stonewall, AIDS and... fucking Maggie. Margaret Thatcher, the Iron Lady. Again, funny how the past is closer than we think, as I still have friends of mine talking to me about that period in British history that they lived through. The minors strike. The poverty, the crisis of the working class and the HIV crisis. But if you are looking for a film full of hope, from tears to laughter, this is the one. Bread and Roses. Bread, and Roses. And a message, which I believe is the essence of our community to this day : solidarity forever. After all...there is power in a union.

If anybody has other films to add, you are more than welcome to do so.

Love you all xx

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Breathe ~ Doctor (part 1)

A/n: So I had a FANTASTIC idea and had to write it. The first part is all of the experience with 9 in one part. I so hope you enjoy this introduction, and allow it to take you on a journey with me that I have been having far too much fun exploring.

Word Count: 11,000+

MASTERLIST

Rose Tyler had three people in her life that were a constant.

Her mother, first of all. The woman might be a little annoying from time to time, gossiping and being pushy and demanding and wasting money on parties and dramatics. She was a good woman though, with a large heart. She had, after all, raised Rose by herself and the girl had come out brilliantly.

Then there was Mickey. Mickey was Rose's boyfriend. He was... cool, I guess. There was definitely more to him than others cared to dig for. Even he himself didn't know his full potential, and it put a stopper on him quite a bit. He was fine enough, and obviously cared for Rose, but he tended to be a bit... distracted, and oblivious. Desperate, maybe.

Y/n sure didn't approve of him, but as Rose's best friend he had long since learned to accept the man. Y/n was very good at filling in the spaces where Mickey lacked. He was attentive and listened to Rose talk for hours. That was perhaps the biggest reason he didn't like Mickey too much. Rose complained a lot. Y/n fancied himself an artist. He and Rose had met when he'd tried to do street art to get some attention, but it was more hussle than it was worth. The best thing that came out of it was his friendship with Rose.

There was something odd about Y/n, Rose was sure. The man was usually very open and honest - unless it came to any and all talk about relationships. Rose had long since stopped asking, but others hadn't. Every time his love life was brought up, he clammed shut and got very bitey. No one was sure why, but it happened every time without fail. His reaction didn't get any more or less violent, either. No one could wear him out or get him to snap. He just got tense and irritable until you stopped talking, and then the mood was usually ruined the rest of the day.

It was a silver lining, though. Otherwise Y/n was extremely pleasant and had no problems talking about other peoples' relationships or love lives. Y/n never encouraged Rose to be single or to dump Mickey - as long as everyone was happy, you could talk about anything in your life without any back lash. Rose got along and they didn't talk about it and that was that.

Then the Doctor happened.

Rose and Y/n didn't lie to each other. They'd formed a friendship on if you didn't want something known, you didn't mention it until you were ready to talk about it with a level head. No matter what, they didn't lie. They just kept their mouths shut. So when the Doctor entered Rose Tyler's life and her mom took up the phones like usual and Mickey ran off to the bar to watch the game, Rose pulled Y/n into her room and told him everything.

"No," Y/n mumbled. It wasn't that he didn't believe her. Rose Tyler wasn't insane, and they didn't lie to each other. He knew that, logically, if she said it, it was true. That didn't stop the fact that his mind rejected what she was telling him.

"Yes!" Rose gushed, nodding eagerly. "He's got this weird screw driver, except it's got no head, just a little light at the end. And mannequins - they moved. He's the one that blew up my job."

Y/n allowed him a second to process that before responding. Rose stayed silent as well, waiting for him to speak again before she said more. "And he said his name was what?"

"The Doctor. Sounds like a mad man, huh?"

A sort of amused snort came from Y/n then. "No shit." He shook his head. "Hold on, I need air." They began to walk out when the doggy door suddenly blew in. Y/n and Rose both jumped, before Rose yelled something at her mom about not nailing the flap shut like she said she would. But when Y/n kneeled down, he picked up nails off of the ground, holding them up for Rose to see. "I think she actually did, Rosey."

The two locked eyes and then both gazes shot to the flap as it suddenly moved again. Rose went to stick her head down there but Y/n wasn't having any of that. He nudged her with his foot, grabbing the bat by the door he had insisted the Tyler's kept at the ready. Two women living alone needed some way to protect themselves. Not necessarily a man - no woman NEEDED a man, even Y/n knew that - but something. Now it came in handy as he hefted, swinging the door open as Rose scrambled to her feet behind him.

A man stood there. He wore a leather jacket and had an odd expression on his face. "Hello," Y/n greeted, unsure.

"Hello," the man responded back. He lifted a long, odd object and pressed a button, running the object down Y/n's body as if... scanning him.

It clicked in Y/n's brain far too quickly. The thing glowed at the end that was pointed at Y/n, and it made a buzzing noise. The man was weird and smiled too wide. Even the leather jacket was there. "You're the Doctor."

The Doctor's smile grew. "Normally I have to introduce myself. It's usually a bad sign when someone knows my name, but you're not made of plastic so I can't imagine what I'd have to be worried about. Are you made of plastic by chance?"

"No," Y/n answered calmly. He was processing Rose's story at hyper speed now. It only made sense that a man like this would be attached to a world where plastic came alive and tried to kill you. The night seemed bright around him. There was something odd about his presence, like seeing cartoon and live action mixing between characters and background. The Doctor didn't belong here, and it was obvious in every move he made.

The Doctor nodded. "Suppose I'll be on my way then."

"You will not," Rose spoke up, grabbing the man's arm around Y/n and pulling all of them. "I have questions and this time you WILL answer them."

That simple action changed the lives of Rose Tyler, the Doctor, and everyone they cared about so much that none of them would ever be able to go back. Honestly though, none of them would have it any other way. Except maybe Jackie.

-

"Doctor?" Y/n turned to the other man, who hummed without looking over. The Doctor's eyes were trained on the end of the world. As were Rose's. Y/n couldn't keep looking. Something had stuck in his head. Something that made him even more sick than the sight of an empty planet being consumed in a universe that had long since been done with it. "The woman before. She said something about your planet. Something about you being impossible."

The Doctor got a very dark look on his face then. "I suppose I am rather impossible." He shrugged, obviously trying to keep it light.

Unfortunately, Y/n's curiosity was insatiable. It was something the Doctor had come to appreciate about him. Until now, maybe. "Well, I'm the last of my kind." He paused but when Y/n's expression grew only more earnest, he shared more. There was something about Y/n that pulled at the Time Lord. Made him want to talk. Talk about things other than just science and time and language and culture and history and such. Something that made the Doctor want to talk about himself. "A very long time ago, there was a war. A war between my people, and those knows as the Daleks." He paused, getting rather somber. "We won...” he swallowed. There was an unspoken, at a cost.

Y/n found himself with more questions, but felt none of them appropriate to ask. "I'm so sorry." Rose turned then to see Y/n take the Doctor's hand. Y/n had always been affectionate, but only with people he was rather attached to. With strangers, Y/n was usually quiet and reserved. Until he was sure someone could handle his prying questions and blunt honesty that so often got him in trouble if he didn't check himself around the right people.

Perhaps it was the fact that the Doctor was a lot like that as well that Y/n had taken to him so quickly. Whether it was that or something else, Rose was glad the two men were getting along. She was also glad there was someone smarter than Y/n in the room. The boy had asked so many questions and gotten so many answers that he had quite a bit of knowledge more than normal people. He was no genius like the Doctor, nor was he hyper intelligent or anything. But he could outmatch Rose and Mickey, and they often went to him when they needed something spelled or math done that they couldn't mentally do quick enough.

Rose suddenly saw something else though. Past the similarity and the comfort and the peace the men found in each other. The Doctor looked back to Earth, and Y/n continued to look at the Doctor. It was subtle, and it wouldn't have been noticed if Rose wasn't already looking. But she had. Y/n finally looked away fully, but there was a look in his eyes that Rose had never seen before.

What was that about?

"What was that?" Rose demanded when the left the room, parting from the Doctor.

Y/n seemed taken aback. "What was what?"

Rose wasn't sure how to describe it. An odd look? A weird new air about him? There was something different when Y/n looked at the Doctor and Rose couldn't understand it. "With you and the Doctor?" She tried to clarify.

That only seemed to confuse Y/n more. "What are you talking about? Holding hands? I do that with you and Mickey all the time, and I'm not even Mickey's biggest fan."

Rose rolled her eyes so hard that Y/n almost laughed. "You looked... different."

Y/n was quiet a long time. Rose almost thought he wasn't going to say anything. That she had found something he wasn't ready to share. But then he did speak, even if it was soft. "He's different, the Doctor. Not just because he's alien, though... perhaps that is it." He sighed. "He's lonely. He's so lonely, Rose. Can't you see it? In the way he empathizes with loss and grief. The way he looks when you mention his name or his planet or the TARDIS or your family. When he was watching you watching Earth die, like he could see... something else. He told me something. Something that makes me think... he might have watched his own world be destroyed, like we did today. But it wasn't empty, and his species hadn't spread out and integrated and evolved. They just died, and left him all alone."

For a second, it was quiet. "You see it, don't you?"

A nod was all Y/n gave at first. He didn't need to say anything, but he did anyway. "He looked the way I did when I got the news back then. When I found out. He gets that exact look."

Suddenly Rose looked very sad indeed. "Well. Now you both have someone, eh?"

A small smile tugged at Y/n's lips. "Yeah, here's to that at least."

-

"Y/N!"

The man turned at his name, only to be tackled by the shorter blonde that had become known as his best friend. "Rose," Y/n whispered, clinging to her. "God I thought you were dead for sure. I - what happened? I lost you guys and then..." He looked sick. "There was so much light and-"

"We're all okay," the Doctor reassured. "That's what matters."

Y/n turned on the older man. "Now you listen here. That's NOT all that matters. Because she damn well could have not been and I wasn't there to protect her. Or you! What would I have done if either of you had died and I was up here sitting on my thumbs like an idiot?"

The Doctor was taken aback by Y/n's outburst. When the man turned and stormed off, Rose was the one to step up and explain. "I'm sorry, Doctor. He's rather protective of those he cares about." She bit her lip, giving the Doctor the impression there was more she wanted to say. He waited for her to speak, and after a while she did. "When he was young, Y/n saw something terrible. His childhood wasn't normal. I mean, you think life is pretty rough on most of us, but Y/n's had it worst than most."

"What happened?" The Doctor asked quietly.

Rose sighed. "His parents had always been pretty distant, but they were mostly good. They did what they needed to do and let him free when he wanted to be. But, well, they were.. angry. The fought a lot, and it didn't help that his dad was a fan of alcohol. His mum... well she was a fan of lots of things other than that, none of them good for you. One day, she came home high. She wanted something... I can't remember what. His parents fought over it until... his mum pulled a little too hard. His dad slipped and knocked his head really hard on the floor. He died. His mom panicked and..." Rose swallowed. And no further words had to be said about it. "Y/n was on the couch the entire time watching. He ran. Was on the streets for a long time doing lots of things. Working as best he could while keeping his head down until he turned eighteen and was free of the system. Found us right after that. He watched his parents destroy themselves and spent a long time alone after that because he couldn't stop the fighting." She scoffed. "His words of course. Not his fault people fight. He was only twelve."

The Doctor seemed to be thinking about something. Something that didn't seem to be sitting right with him. "Does he have any other family?"

"Loads. He used to have a very big family. No brothers or sisters, but lots of aunts and uncles and cousins and the such."

"What happened to them?" The Doctor looked at Rose, as if searching her mind for something he desperately needed.

Rose stalled a few seconds. "A lot of the same, really. Not so much murder, but... well, his parents got their habits from their families, and between that and regular life? Not as many are as strong or as resourceful as Y/n. They ran off or got addicted to something or..." She shrugged. "He lost all of them at some point."

The Doctor nodded. "I see. Well, this is settled. Let's go somewhere more fun." His tone changed but the mood didn't. Rose let it drop though. Y/n didn't mind Rose answering questions like this for people he was comfortable with. He actually preferred it, so that wasn't her worry. The Doctor had drawn a silent line though. She didn't know what it was blocking her from, but she decided to let the whole topic drop just in case.

Perhaps it was what Y/n had said about him and the Doctor being the same.

She hoped they weren't too similar. It was bad enough knowing Y/n's story, she couldn't bare another like it.

-

Y/n had been staring at the building that had just gone up in flames for a very long time now. Rose and the Doctor had been celebrating, but Y/n sat there quietly, on the pavement, staring at the building like he was waiting for it to undo the carnage that had been caused moments ago.

"So what's on your mind?" The Doctor had plopped down next to Y/n, smile small. He'd gotten used to Y/n's mellow mood. The boy wasn't hyper like the Doctor. He didn't get off on exploration. What drove Y/n, it seemed, was saving people. And a life like this took its tole on people who wanted to save everyone. People like Y/n. So, the Doctor had learned to check in every once in a while. Every time he did, he was never disappointed. Even when Y/n seemed to be hurting, he was never negative about it. He could accept a success. The things he did think though put the Doctor on a path that had him mulling for days. In a good way. He and Y/n got into a lot of very stimulating debates this exact way.

Today wasn't about debates for Y/n.

"I know they were going to destroy the world and stuff. I'm not sad they're dead. We won and they've been stopped and all of humanity and Earth has been saved. That's great. The way we did it was rather impressive too." He chuckled, but there was obviously more he was thinking.

"But?" The Doctor prompted.

Y/n shrugged. "Wiping out an entire family. I mean, their species isn't normally like that, are they?"

"No," The Doctor answered slowly.

A bitter sweet smile rested on Y/n's lips then. "Do you think they were raised to be like that, or is blood thirst genetic?" It was a sarcastic question, so the Doctor didn't answer. There was a moment of quiet before Y/n shook his head and sighed. "Doctor, would you prefer I didn't travel with you?"

That was not the thing the Doctor had been expecting Y/n to say next. "Why would you ever think I didn't want you along with us?"

Another moment where Y/n struggled with how to form his thoughts and feelings into words passed before the boy finally figured it out. "I like this life. I really do. I like being around you and Rose and watching you guys have your fun. But sometimes I feel like... a bit of a downer."

The Doctor chuckled. "Honestly Y/n, you're the first person in a very long who sees the truth to things. As much as we cling to our victories, you're real about them. You handle everything with complete understanding, even with your limited knowledge. You have empathy even for beings who would have killed you without even remembering your face. You have pity for monsters and you feel for species the rest of your kind would rather kill than have a civil conversation with. Rose is fun and she matches my energy and I appreciate that. But you ask the questions I've been waiting for someone to ask for centuries. Your kindness is quite refreshing. You get it."

Y/n smiled. "So you want me along?"

"I will always want you along, Y/n. As long as I can have you along," The Doctor answered without hesitation. "You're no downer, I promise."

It was that moment that something changed for Y/n. Rose saw this too, but not in the moment the two men shared now, but after. Y/n and the Doctor had unlocked something in each other in that conversation. A kind of connection where even as everyone cheered, all the pair had to do was look at each other to know that in all the sweetness around them, the other understood the slight bitterness they felt as well. As much as they wanted to end evil, they also both felt the loss of any soul they couldn't save. Taking a moment to mourn with each other seemed a relief for both of them.

It was something Rose couldn't feel. She saw things pretty straight forward. Bad people needed to have an end to them. And she wasn't wrong, but the compassion that had come to Y/n and Doctor after having their families and lives taken from them and living far too long by themselves, they had a unique ability to give a moment of silence even for enemies who were twisted by things out of their control. Who couldn't be shown the light.

They bonded over it so much that Rose felt herself being left behind.

Y/n and Rose still told each other lots and cuddled when either needed comfort. The Doctor and Rose still had lots of fun and laughed at each others jokes and had that same sense of humor that came only from adjusting to and enjoying the life they both lead. They were all friends. But Y/n and the Doctor had something else. Just a little something more. Just enough that Rose saw the change and began to think that there might be something major she didn't know about the man who called himself her best friend.

-

"Something's off."

Rose and the Doctor looked over at Y/n, whose eyes were slowly and carefully scanning their surroundings with narrowed eyes, as if searching for proof that his hunch was solid. "What is it?" Rose asked gently, moving closer so they didn't have to talk around the people in the crowd they had been moving through before Y/n had stopped dead.

The dynamic between the trio had very early on become clear. The Doctor was the brain, coming up with the plans. Rose was the second in command. She was stuck to the Doctor's side and they worked in tandem, being unbroken and often sliding along the same wave length. Y/n was the heart. When Rose and the Doctor got stuck on a mind path, or got distracted, or veered a little too right of what was right, Y/n was the one to shake things up to give them a new perspective, or to help either of them if they needed it. Y/n was a comfort and a friend. He was also very intuitive. Where the Doctor sought things out, and Rose seemed to stumble on information she found, information seemed to find Y/n. He just had a good gut guiding him.

So when he said something was up, at this point, he was never questioned by his companions.

"Earlier one of the girls said that people are chosen to go up to the higher floors. That there's a prize. They go up and something happens and then they never come back."

The Doctor nodded. "I was thinking about that too."

Y/n shook his head. "Did you notice that it's incredibly hot in here? I mean, why? It's obviously not ideal - it makes the people here uncomfortable. It's slight discomfort, but still. Why keep a bunch of people in a super heated room? What's on level 500, air conditioning?"

It was made to be a joke, but the comment seemed to spark something in the Doctor. "You know what, that's an excellent point." He stood straighter. "Fun's over. Where's that friend of yours, Rose?"

The blonde looked around. "He was... just behind us."

"Grand," Y/n grumbled sarcastically.

The Doctor chuckled a few times. "Took the words right out of my mouth." As he said it he looked over at Y/n, his eyes flickering to Y/n's lips. He looked away quickly and Y/n missed the moment altogether. The two continued cracking jokes toward Rose about the man both of them had been increasingly annoyed with, but Rose wasn't responding.

Because she had seen where the Doctor's eyes had landed, and her mind was working a million miles an hour to put this together. It's not that the concept of men liking men was foreign to her, just rare. One that wasn't her first thought for sure. But as Y/n and the Doctor got closer and closer on a very emotionally intimate level, Rose was noticing the building tiny moments that wouldn't mean anything alone but meant everything put together.

She smiled to herself. Rose Tyler had a plan, and not just about Satellite Five.

-

"You wanna talk?" Y/n offered quietly.

"Do you?" Rose shot back.

Y/n wasn't sure what to do with that. "I always want to talk with you, Rose."

The blonde jerked her body to turn and face Y/n, a determined look on her face. "You know Y/n, how about this. An exchange of honesties. For every truth you tell me, I will tell you one in return. And your truth has to equal mine, so if you want something meaningful then you have to give something like that first."

Y/n paused and then nodded. "Sounds good. Do you want me to start?”

"No, actually," Rose decided. Y/n motioned for her to go ahead, so she did. "Watching my dad die was not great, but I'm glad he wasn't alone after all. It was kind of... a relief, actually. Some closure. I got to say goodbye. I got to hold his hand." She offered a weak smile. "Now your turn."

Unsure of what Rose was aiming for, Y/n thought for a second for something he hadn't told her recently that could be as profound and unexpected as that. "This whole life of ours gives me purpose. I feel like I matter, which is something I haven't really felt until now. I know I had people who cared about me and worried about me and expected me home every night, but I always craved to make a difference and finally having that has been like a dream come true. Even though I get a little melancholic... all the time, it's just because I get stuck in my own head a lot and think too much. I actually really like what we do."

Rose nodded. Even though it had been a tad mild compared to hers, it was less what he had said and more the fact that he'd said it. Y/n struggled to communicate positive emotions, often overthinking the negative ones and voicing those because he needed second opinions and insight. Acknowledging positive things didn’t require a second opinion or input, just a congratulations, and since when did he get that just for traveling with the Doctor and finding purpose without looking like some sort of arrogant dick? It might not have been as profound as Rose's truth, but it was equally meaningful.

"I love Mickey and my mum of course, but I don't think I'll be ever to leave this life and be okay with it. I think that I might end up breaking up with Mickey because he deserves better and that thought terrifies me."

Y/n pursed his lips. "Can I just-"

"No comforting or additional thought. We can discuss later. Right now, truth. State it."

"Okay," Y/n sighed. "Uh, relationships in general terrify me." It sort of slipped out and both of them hesitated. Y/n never talked about this sort of stuff. It was the only thing he never talked about, even with Rose. She expected him to clam up but after a second, he just kept going. "I'm scared of falling in love and having my heart broken. I know some things are worth it, and people glorify love so much and I crave it, I really do, but... I've lost so much. I don't think I'd be able to handle it if I really fell for someone and then had to lose them. I'd rather make friends and family than that nonsense. It would hurt to lose them, but in a different way, and there would still be the thought that you would always be that person's friend or family if you get separated or part ways or whatever. Like we'll always be each other's friend, I think. Even if we got to a point where we couldn't be friends anymore. If I left this life behind, or one of us died or-" He sighed. "But when you break up with someone, they move on. They date other people, and do intimate things with them. They love and connect in just as intimate ways as you used to, and eventually they forget you and replace you. I couldn't handle that. I won't."

Rose let out the breath she'd been holding. She'd been too scared to breath, in case it shattered the moment she'd been waiting to happen for years now. "I understand." She took his hand. "Have you... ever been in love before?"

Y/n shook his head. "Not yet." He paused and Rose felt the weight of those words. Not yet. She could imagine Y/n clinging to his heart as the Doctor got closer and closer, his smile ever wide and his charm ever sparkling.

Rose's shoulders sagged a bit. "What will you do if it ever happens?"

"Ignore it." The words were too quick and solid. They came across as desperate. Insistent. In that moment one thing was clearer than anything else in the world. If Y/n wasn't in love with the Doctor already, he would be soon. He was falling hard, and he was falling fast, and when he landed it was going to hurt. They were suddenly both terrified about it.

-

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" The words were hysterical. Y/n's hands shook and his eyes were wide and his skin shone with sweat. His hair was messier than usual and his clothes were disheveled, like he'd rolled down a long hill or gotten in a fight or something.

The horror of what was happening in that moment settled over Rose and the Doctor in a truly terrible way. It was in the ringing in their ears and the horrible, bitter taste that was suddenly in their mouths. "Y/n-" the Doctor began.

"No," the man answered in a very final tone. One that let them know there was no room for question or doubt. He had been touched by the child. He had been infected, and he refused to infect any of the others.

A new friend, Jack Harkness, jogged over at the commotion. "What's happening over here?"

"Doesn't matter," Y/n answered solidly. "We need to move on."

Rose let out a sound that neared a choked sob, except she wasn't crying. She just looked to be in pain. "You- you can't! Y/n-"

Y/n took a few deep breaths. He had made the mistake. In his idiocy, he had gotten between the kid and Rose, and now he was here. The child was far back and they'd had time to get away, but Y/n had touched him and that meant only one thing. "Rose, we don't have time for this." He was near breaking down, and he begged her to see that. He couldn't spend the time before he died losing it. He had to help as much as he could. He had to make a difference. He had to-

"You know, you don't have to do anything, Y/n." Y/n and the Doctor looked at each other. His lips were parted and his eyes were desperate. He wanted to help but... he didn't know how. "You can stop. We would understand. You - you probably don't have much time left." His face crumbled, like he finally understood the meaning behind what he was saying. "You don't have to come. Spend it doing something else. Get yourself some food maybe. There's bound to be something in the TARDIS. Pick a bed, and stay there. We'll keep you comfortable after... after this."

A soft chuckle came from Y/n then. "You know, I'm going to die." The group got deathly quiet. "Maybe that's not true. I'll be alive. I'll be something worse than dead. I'll be brain dead. Forever." He shook his head, his breathing becoming shallow. "But right now, I'm still me. And I want to do something before I stop being me, Doctor. I want to do all I can. I want to do everything, but all we have time for is making sure whatever is happening to me never happens to anyone else ever again, okay? Can I spend my last moment with you?" He was looking right at the Doctor. Not at Rose, which would have made sense as they were practically siblings with the way they acted toward each other. Not even Jack, who had been having fun flirting with everyone - especially because Y/n wasn't anywhere near as hard to get as Rose or the Doctor. Y/n looked at the Doctor, and begged to die by his side, and Jack and Rose looked at each other because the need that Y/n had to steal all the time he had left to spend with the Doctor of all people... it said something Y/n was not ready to find the actual words for.

"Of course you can," the Doctor whispered.

And he did. Y/n was there as they reached the not-bomb that was actually some sort of alien ambulance. He was there when they saved Nancy and gathered the troops. And when it came time, he left too.

"Nancy, take Rose to where you cut the gate. And take this!" He tossed his sonic screwdriver at Rose and she caught it.

"I ought to go as well," Y/n spoke up.

The Doctor looked confused by that. "No I need you here. I promised you'd-"

"Doctor," Y/n interrupted. He took a shaky breath. "I can feel it coming. Soon I'm going to be one of them. Mindless, and coming after you, and you won't be able to stop me. I will kill all of you. Make you just like them." His face darkened. "Like us." He shook his head and Rose and the Doctor looked at each other, trying to find the answer in each other that neither of them had. Y/n steeled himself. "So this is goodbye."

The Doctor stood there for a few seconds. Too many seconds. He was trying to say something, but didn't seem to be able to. "Y/n?" The man answered to his name, and the men locked eyes. "Do you remember the first time we ever set out, and you told me... you told me that Rose was the most important person to you? You joked that no one would ever be that important to you, except someone who would be... special." He let air out of his nose. "You were special to me. More special than most people."

Y/n smiled, fighting tears. "You are special to me too, Doctor." He looked away. "I'm sorry our journey ended so early. I think... I think it could have been special, too."

Then there was nothing else to say, so he left with Rose and Nancy, the three of them booking it to the fence. Y/n stepped through and watched as Nancy and Rose fixed the metal so he wouldn't be able to get back in.

"Did you mean it?" Rose asked, looking at her best friend for what could very well be the last time. "That I was important to you? And that the Doctor was special enough to be just as important?"

The silence stretched for too long. Rose wasn't sure if it was painful to talk with that thing pushing its way up Y/n's throat, or if it was his human fear that kept his lips sealed, but Y/n didn't say anything for a very long time. The fence was sealed and the women stood before he finally spoke. "Do you think differently of me?" He rushed to add, "I know it's obvious. I saw the way you look between us like you expect us to lose our minds and make out right there. I see the way you and Jack looked at each other before too. Like you were watching a romance movie that had a sad ending. One you didn't expect, or think fair. I'm not as subtle as I like to think I am."

Rose scoffed. "You think I think differently of you because you're in love with the Doctor? Why? Because he's an alien?" She narrowed her eyes. "Or because he's a man?" Y/n looked away. "Y/n, you're my best friend. After all we've been through with the Doctor, you're practically my brother. I have been waiting ages now for you to admit your feelings for him. I didn't know until we started traveling, but it doesn't change the fact that you're there for me more than anyone else. You protect me and care about me. Your heart is bigger than all of the universes put together, and you bleed gold - I swear to god. You and the Doctor... you give him something I don't think anyone ever could. You understand something I can't wrap my head around. The way you mourn even the worst of us, because you see potential. The way you can do that, but still stop evil and remove yourself from harm because as much as you pity people who destroy themselves and others, you also won't tolerate their destruction. You're one of the most amazing men I've ever met, and don't think I'm just saying that because you were my first boyfriend.” It was a reference to When they’d first met; Y/n had pretended to be Rise’s boyfriend to get a creep to go away.

Both of them laughed at that, tears falling down their faces. "I remember that." Y/n slipped his hands in his pockets and the mood dropped again. "In another world, Rose, I wouldn't have ever left your side. I really do love you. And even if I am feeling... things, for the Doctor." His eyebrows came together. "You were always my first priority. I just know that he cares about you, too. He has your back, but someone needs to have his. Someone who really understands. And... you get distracted sometimes. But that's okay, because you always have my back, so we watch each other like that." His voice broke as he continued, "Had." Y/n and Rose locked eyes. "You watch him for me, alright? You two..." He laughed again. "I know you two are like me and him. I know he'll never admit it in a million years, but you two. It's subtle and quiet and innocent, but I can see it. I see it in the way he says your name, and the way you trust him. If you don't end up happy because of me I'll come back from the dead just to kick your asses."

Tears fell harder down Rose's face as she laughed again. "You're an idiot."

"Your idiot," Y/n replied without missing a beat.

Rose's expression fell. "How am I supposed to go on these journeys without you? Go back home and face my mum, who needs you around because you're the only one who'll listen to her gossip without giving her an ear load in return? Who will tell Mickey off now that I'm so different and we-" She choked on her words. "You can't go, Y/n."

"I don't want to..." His vision blurred and the pain that had been rising steadily came in full force now. Y/n leaned against the fence, bending at the middle a little bit as his other hand rose so his fingers could wrap around his throat. "I'm sorry, Rose. I- I-" He began sobbing, but stopped as it made the pain worse. "I'm- m-" He shook his head. He didn't want to hear himself say it... Then the thought occurred to him that the people might be trapped in their heads. Conscious and aware, but out of control. Would he see the face of every person he condemned to live like him? Would he sit there and see them and have to touch them anyway? Every single person until... until what? They didn't die. He wouldn't die. He would turn person after person until they were all brain dead and trapped just like him. "Rose."

"I'm here," she whispered, her voice haunted. "I'm right here, Y/n."

Y/n closed his eyes. "Run. Please - PLEASE don't see me like this. Don't see me- m- mummy-" The word forced itself out of his mouth and he whimpered, flinching upon hearing it. Rose made a sound that was half groan and half whine. This was hurting her. "Rose, Ru-" And then he looked up and locked eyes with the girl who had become his sister, and he thought of her and the Doctor before everything went black.

When he woke up again, he was somewhere new. He expected to see himself marching toward his friends, condemning them to death. He expected to see someone else about to be wrapped in his deadly clutches perhaps. But all he saw, instead, was a lot of lights and people and a blue beam with something large and cylinder in it. He saw his hands next. He reached them up to touch his face and they answered him. His face was skin. It was smooth and a little warm. There was no leather or metal. He wasn't wearing a gas mask.

"Y/N!" He turned in time to be rammed into by a smaller blonde. Her hair went into his face and he felt both panic and relief.

"You- you can't touch me. Rose what have you done?" He demanded rather harshly.

She shook her head, her body shaking as she sobbed. "You're cured, Y/n. You're all better. The Doctor - he figured it out. A brilliant man, he is. Truly brilliant."

Allowing himself a moment to process that, Y/n stayed quiet and just hugged Rose for a second. Once it did settle, though, he needed to know something. "Is the Doctor okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine." Rose and Y/n parted, turning their gazes to land on the Doctor himself. The man was grinning, his eyes light up with joy.

Y/n grinned back. "Guess you're not getting rid of me that easily, Doctor."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," the Doctor replied. He slipped his screwdriver in his pocket. "On we go, then. There's one more thing we have to do before we can celebrate." And just like that, Y/n was okay and not dead and they were all together. Things had been said that they were ignoring for now, because none of them could acknowledge them. Not yet. Right now, they had more important things.

At least that's how they reasoned it. Easier that way. Much, much easier.

-

"I'm sorry, we'd be sending you to your death?" Y/n demanded.

"Yes," the Slitheen responded.

The Doctor turned to face the man who looked about ready to blow a circuit. "Y/n, I know how you feel. Trust me, I do. We all do. But-"

"No buts!" Y/n argued. "She just wants to be free! Her whole family was killed and she had to run away or die with them. Can you imagine what it would be like to have to run, knowing everyone you care about would be gone? Being helpless to save them, because you messed with the wrong planet? Because you do what you always did. What you were TAUGHT to do?"

That seemed to hit a chord with the Doctor. "It doesn't matter, Y/n. It doesn't!" The Doctor shot again when Y/n went to argue. "She would have killed everyone here without a second thought. What are we supposed to do? She almost destroyed this entire planet for a bit of money, and then AGAIN just to get off of it and go somewhere else. Every single life on Earth, GONE, because she wanted a lift somewhere else."

Y/n looked away. "I can't do this one with you, then. I- I know it's necessary. I know you have to do it. I can't sit by and let you though, so I'm going to leave." He turned on Margaret then. "If you hurt him, I will destroy you, do you understand me? These people are MY family, and if you hurt them I will hunt you down and I tie you up and stick a needle in you and I will pump your body full of vinegar - do I make myself clear?"

Margaret looked scared... and a little impressed. "Yes sir." She looked to the Doctor as Y/n walked away. "You found your soulmate, eh?"

The Doctor didn't answer as far as Y/n knew. It was a relief to know that even if the Doctor had responded, Y/n hadn't been there to hear it.

He did manage to stay away a very long time. He only came back when the Earth under his feet began to crack and the lights went crazy and the sky began to glow and everything began to shake. He couldn't stay at home when things were going to wrong. When Rose and the Doctor and Jack could be dying. So Y/n raced back to the TARDIS, reaching it just as everything began to calm down. He pushed open those doors, praying that it wasn't the calm before the storm and the world was about to end.

When he opened the doors, he saw something he wasn't expecting. Te Doctor stood, Rose and Jack on either side of him, an egg in his hand. "What's that?"

Grinning, the Doctor hefted the thing as Y/n entered the TARDIS, closing the doors behind him. "This is Margaret." When Y/n was rightfully confused, the Doctor explained. He recounted the nights' adventures up until Margaret had looked into the heart of the TARDIS and had reverted to what she was now. "She told me..." The Doctor looked at Y/n with a soft look in his eyes. "She told me to tell you thank you. Before she died."

Y/n smiled to himself. "Well, she's welcome." Then he turned away. "Now, let's get her home shall we?"

-

"You want us to face those things with guns? There are six of us."

"Actually," The Doctor piped up. "Rose, Y/n, can you help me strip these wires? The faster we do it the sooner I can get this done."

"Uh, sure," Rose agreed, heading over to where the Doctor was crouched.

"Four of us," the woman corrected herself. Y/n hadn't caught her name yet. He made a mental note to do so when they gunned down the Daleks together later. Because he had seen something in the Doctor when he asked for help. Something that made Y/n suspicious.

"Five actually." Everyone looked at Y/n in surprise. "If we're arguing our need for time, Rose can help here and I can help keep those things from getting here for as long as possible. Maybe-" He stopped himself. "Maybe I can take down enough to make them not a threat at all." It was a joke that fell short, but one that made everyone offer at least a small smile. The Doctor went to argue, and that's when Y/n got serious. "I can't stay up here and strip wires when people are dying, Doctor. I won't."

The Doctor seemed to have pain in his eyes. "I can't stop you, can I?" He was begging Y/n. Desperately pleading for him to stay there. To do as the Doctor wanted him to.

This time, Y/n wasn't going to though. His arm was still bleeding and his other leg had a limp from his game. Y/n had looked death in the face twice now and avoided it. He figured he was on borrowed time anyway. Even if that wasn't true, Jack had saved Y/n's life. He had been the one to find Y/n and pull him out of that game right before he died. If they were all going to die anyway - or, at least, most of them - he would be by Jack's side to repay that debt. "You can't."

Once again, the Doctor and Y/n exchanged a look they both believed would be the last they shared. Ever since Y/n had been turned into one of the empty people when they met Jack, the Doctor had been significantly more protective of Y/n. Y/n was a man though and had been staying firm when he made his mind up, no matter how much the Doctor tried.

"Not at all?" The Doctor tried again.

Y/n smiled. "You know, Doctor. I've been pretty obedient until recently. I didn't stray too far or wander off, because I chose to stay behind and let you know where Rose had gone and that she was okay. Or that she wasn't. I did what you wanted me to. And then I died, and I realized that there is more important thing to life than sitting back and letting you take control just because you know more than I do. This is my choice, and I'm making it."

After a second, the Doctor nodded and Y/n took off with Jack and the others, headed to face the Daleks with a bunch of guns.

Y/n did help some. He watched each and every person on the Station die, and he ended up pressed against a wall with Jack at his side and Daleks charging the pair without hesitation. He had lost. But he had helped, even if it wasn't nearly enough to make a difference.

"Go ahead and warn the Doctor they're coming," Jack ordered. He spoke again before Y/n could argue. "I'll hold them off. I know you don't want to, but the Doctor needs warning, and I... I don't want see you die. Not again."

Pain flared in Y/n's chest then. "You're a good man, Jack."

"Thanks, but we don't have time for one of your goodbye speeches." Jack scoffed at himself. "You know, I did always want one though."

Y/n laughed, tears in his eyes. Why did he always end up here? "How about I give you a kiss on the cheek and you can return it later? I can give you that goodbye speech another day, when we have time."

Jack paused, and then nodded. "I'd like that." So Y/n kissed him on the cheek and then ran when the Daleks turned the corner, feeling his heart drop when the tell tale sign of death hit Y/n's ears in the form of Jack's scream. They'd both known this was what was going to happen. Y/n would never get that kiss, and Jack would never get that speech, but it had been nice that they'd parted holding onto that impossibility. Y/n hoped it had been what Jack was thinking when he died.

Unfortunately, Y/n didn't have much time to lament about it. "Doctor!" He ran into the room, stopping in the doorway. Y/n knew about the delta wave, and he knew what was about to happen. He knew why the Doctor had wanted Y/n and Rose to stay. Y/n had gone though, and now he was going to die with the rest of them. He wouldn't have it any other way. First, he needed to say something though. "Doctor, last time I faced death, I said something that we never talked about again. But we've had even more time together now and after all the regret I had last time, I- I can't die again without telling you-"

"I know," the Doctor said, interrupting. "I hate death confessions. I always have. It's not fair, you know. Telling me something like that and then running off and dying before I can do anything about it."

Even now, the Doctor was making jokes. Dear lord. "I came back, though. And you didn't do anything about it." Y/n huffed in amusement. "You never would have, huh?"

The Doctor swallowed. "This would always been the end, Y/n. At the best, you would have gotten older. You would have moved on. I can't... I can't."

Y/n nodded. "I know. I understand. I really do, Doctor. And with Rose too - I can't imagine that ever getting settled. But I need you to know-" But Y/n didn't get to finish his sentence, because there was that horrible sound and Y/n's scream and then everything went black. Except this time, he wasn't unconscious.

He was dead. Y/n was dead. As dead as it gets.

Death and Y/n didn't see to get along though, because only a few minutes later Y/n was gasping back to life, scrambling on the floor. He was disoriented and confused, but he saw a bright light and heard distant but familiar voices.  He crawled around to get a better view without the large silver things he couldn't quite focus his vision on just yet. What he saw was Rose Tyler and the Doctor and the TARDIS. The Doctor kissed Rose and a light, far brighter than Y/n had seen anything be, traveled between the two of them and Rose fell.

"Doctor?" Y/n croaked.

The Doctor turned in surprise to see Y/n on the floor. "You were dead."

Y/n shrugged, his head spinning. "I feel... sick now. Just sick." His eyes fell to Rose. "I- Is she dead?"

"No," the Doctor reassured. "We need to go though. Come along, will you? We have lots to talk about." Y/n nodded, wobbling to his feet and then into the TARDIS as the Doctor scooped Rose up and set her on the floor of the TARDIS. He began to pilot the ship and as it set a course for what Y/n assumed was London, the Doctor turned on Y/n. He looked a little shaken. The glowing seemed to be moving under his skin, shimmering. But now it didn't seem beautiful, as it had before. It seemed wrong. Definitely dangerous. "Explain yourself."

"I... don't know."

The Doctor looked at Rose. "Ah." He looked back. "It seems I'm the one who has explaining to do." Again he glowed and the Doctor teetered, wincing in pain. "A... lot of explaining, it seems."

Y/n, worried and very confused and a little terrified, nodded. "Get on with it then. We don't have all day."

"Well... I don't," The Doctor agreed. "But I will. Or... you will, with someone else."

Y/n's breathing got heavier. "Doctor-"

"Y/n," the Doctor interrupted, moving close and taking Y/n's face between his hands. "Beautiful, empathetic, caring, protective Y/n. You've gotten your goodbye speeches, let me have mine."

And then the Doctor kissed Y/n, just like he had Rose. Except there was no light or glow, just a kiss. When they parted, it was because the Doctor groaned in pain. A pain that seemed to be growing. "Doctor?" Y/n rushed, scrambling to help the man stand.

The Doctor didn't ever get to say he loved Y/n back, but that kiss had said enough. It didn't really matter though, because it was then that Rose woke up. Then that everything would change forever. Not too much, but plenty enough. The Doctor changed. Changed into someone more controlled and reserved. Someone who couldn't express emotions as well as he could before. Y/n had changed too, though he didn't know that yet. He had changed into someone the Doctor couldn't accept.

To say, things were about to get really fucking complicated.

-

"He says that the yellow girl and her companion have the blue box, so they are the only ones able to speak for this planet."

"You can't," Harriet Jones, now Prime Minister, insisted.

"Someone has to be the Doctor," Rose began.

Whatever she was going to say was cut off by Y/n stepping forward though. No one questioned it. This entire time, Y/n had been the one who had seemed to have any idea on what to do. He didn't have much more a grip than Rose did, but what he did have was just enough that everyone seemed to naturally be stepping back to give him the reigns in the Doctor's place. Y/n stepped up and faced an alien race he had no idea how to defeat with no fear on his face. Maybe it was that the man had died twice now, or that his friends were in danger and nothing made Y/n more hostile than facing down people who threatened his friends. Y/n was different than the boy that had agreed to come along on a journey of a life time to make sure Rose was safe. Not so different that he didn't have mercy, but different enough that he not only didn't tolerate people who were willing to harm others, but he was willing to destroy them for the greater good. To protect those who could not protect themselves. That didn't stop him from pitying wasted life, but it did stop him from hesitating.

"Why do you want to kill humans?" Y/n demanded. The Sycorax leader faced Y/n down, but Y/n didn't step back even a little bit. He said something to Y/n, and the agents by Harriet translated.

"He says humans are simple and meaningless. They need to be conquered. They-"

"Now you stop right there," Y/n interrupted. Everyone behind Y/n and everyone in the crowd seemed to react to that. The people in fear, and the crowd in anger. It seemed no one liked that Y/n had interrupted the alien leader that was perfectly capable of killing. But Y/n didn't care about that. He needed to think, and he needed time to do that, and he was absolutely not about to let this monster conquer his planet without fighting back. He didn't know much or think as fast as the Doctor, but he could figure it out. He could figure SOMETHING out. Because he had to. "This planet isn't filled with a bunch of idiots. We may have a few bad eggs. We may make choices that are so incredibly daft, but we're incredible as well. We learn and grow and continue without being stopped. We defy death, even. We defy logic and reason. We're harder to wipe out than a hoard of roaches. We stick around and fight back. You can try your hardest to pin us under your thumb, or kill us off when we refuse, but it'll never be over and even if you do win this battle. Even if you do take this planet now. We will come back in such force that you will wish you had never made the mistake of messing with us. And it may not be now. It may not be in a decade, or several, or even a century. But it will happen, as it always does. And when it does happen, you will fear us."

"You want to be big? Then I will show you how small you are." Too late they all realized the Sycorax had spoken in English. Too late, because he flicked his staff and like a whip, a coil of electricity shot out and attached to Y/n's chest. He screamed and fell to a knee and his friends screamed behind him, but when the electricity left, Y/n was... fine.

Chaos erupted from the crowd. Y/n stood slowly, even his friends behind him whispering in chatter that sounded... fearful. What had just happened?

"SILENCE!" The Sycorax screamed. The crowd begrudgingly went hush, but a small voice from behind Y/n spoke up still.

"You should be dead. I watched him kill them with that- that- staff. You should be dead."

"And I'm not," Y/n brought up rather pointlessly. He sounded far more calm than he meant to though, so there was that.

The Sycorax leader stumbled back in obvious fear. Y/n stood taller. "That's impossible."

"It should be," A voice that was growing familiar spoke up. The small crowd behind Y/n parted and there stood the new man who was the Doctor but also wasn't. That man strutted forward, an expression on his face that was sort of bitter sweet, but leaning more bitter. "It doesn't sit well with me either, if I'm honest."

"Took you long enough," Y/n mumbled under his breath.

"Better late than never," the man shot back. And that was when Y/n saw the Doctor. If a bit more rude and quicker to respond... still the Doctor.

Long story short, the Doctor handled things as he always did. After Y/n's show of immunity to the Sycorax's one hit kill staff, there wasn't much work to do. There was calling the bluff of what turned out to be blood control, which couldn't go as far as the Sycorax said it could. And then there was the sword fight that was brought about by some law or another, but also threatened to happen because if the Sycorax leader didn't agree, the Doctor would "release" Y/n on him. It ended with the Doctor victorious, and Sycorax ship sailing off as the humans left all returned to the ground with the TARDIS.

Then, as they were running away, Harriet Jones shot them down with a beam from a group she called Torchwood, and killed them while their backs were turned.

"HOW COULD YOU DO THAT?" Y/n roared, rushing to the smaller woman. Harriet was suddenly shaking, faced with a man who seemed to be repelling death like it was a light cold and he had work to get to. "They were running away!"

"They could come back," she insisted rather quietly.

"They couldn't," The Doctor argued, standing just behind Y/n, at his side. "The fight - it was agreed. I won, Earth is free from them."

Harriet scoffed. "He attacked you the second you turned your back, and his people will surely do the same." Y/n flared but Harriet seemed to find her courage then. "You weren't there, Doctor. And you will not always be there. Y/n did a very good job of taking your place, but he won't always be here either. One day we will be faced with an enemy we cannot take down with a simple sword fight, and you may not be there to help."

"I should have told them to run from the monster," The Doctor sneered. "I should have told them to run as far and as fast as they could, because the real monster was sitting there, waiting for the moment to strike."

Harriet solidified herself. "I was there when that staff killed two good men. Right in front of me, and I could do nothing to stop it. I won't be helpless ever again. I have people to protect."

There was quiet for a moment, and then the Doctor stepped in front of Y/n, who had been stunned by such stupidity and selfishness that he was struck dumb. "You know, humans are so simple. I can end you entire career without lifting a single finger. I could do it without much trouble. Without even lifting one finger, all your hard work. Gone."

"Stop it," Harriet demanded, that fear from before returning.

"Six words," the Doctor stated calmly.

"Stop," Harriet hissed, coming undone by his terrifying calm.

"Just six words." And then he moved... but not to Harriet. He moved to the last man left that seemed to work with Harriet, and he leaned close and whispered something in the man's ear. Then he leaned away and turned around and walked away, hands in his pockets and face empty of regret or emotion in general. Harriet panicked behind them, begging the Doctor and the man the Doctor had spoken to tell her something. Anything. But she never got her answer.

Not in the way she wanted.

When they were away from her, Y/n rounded on the Doctor. "I'm still alive, and she said I shouldn't be."

The Doctor sighed. "When Rose looked into the heart of the TARDIS, she... brought you back. Honestly, I knew, and I saw, but I was in shock and in pain because I was dying and I was too scared to leave you behind. Far, far more scared of losing you than I was of what you had become."

Y/n looked as if he'd been slapped. "What do you mean, what I've become? You don't want me anymore?"

"That's the thing isn't it?" The Doctor sighed. "Rose doesn't even know. She forgot everything. And you weren't alive to see it. To get back to me, to us, she looked into the heart of the TARDIS. Like when Margaret became an egg. She looked and she gained immeasurable power. Power over time and space, completely. Over life, even. All she had to do was set your existence through out all time and space, and you're alive. But she didn't know how to hone it, so now you'll... probably always be alive. You can't die, I'd reckon."

"At all?" Y/n squeaked.

The Doctor shrugged. "There's no knowing for sure unless we test it, but if back there means anything, I'd say that no, you can't die. I'd even bet you can't age."

Y/n let out a breath. "So I'll be this age, alive, forever?"

"I'd say so," the Doctor confirmed. There was a moment of silence. "I feel guilty."

"Why?" Y/n asked, looking up from where his eyes had dropped.

A soft sigh escaped the Doctor then. "I'm glad of it." Y/n rose a questioning eyebrow, and the Doctor continued. "I've never been able to be really with someone before. I knew they'd go eventually. They die or move on or grow too old for this life, or get torn up by the life style or they're stolen from me. You... you're different, though. Humans age and get old, but I regenerate. I mean, a relationship like that would be one sided. Eventually I'd be alone again. But you don't age, or die, and I'm sitting here in a  predicament where I just so happen to be in love with you." He released a breath, as if the words had been weighing him down. "It's so much easier to say that knowing I may actually not lose you."

Slowly, a smile rose to Y/n's face. "Well, if you don't already know I love you too I might have to kick your ass right here and now."

The Doctor released a shaky sort of laugh. After a second, he looked away, his smile fading. "Y/n, there's something you need to know about me."

Y/n sucked in a breath and released it again sharply, his hands fidgeting. "What about?"

"I've had a lot of companions, and I  have lost every single one. Rose and you aren't the first, even though you two are... different." He shook his head. "But I had something real before this life. I had a family. I was a father. A husband. I had a life. And it was all taken from me."

For a second, Y/n didn't seem to know what to say. But then he found it, and whispered very gently, "Doctor, I'm weird. I don't... I don't fall in love, really. It's unusual for me to do so. I've only ever fancied one person other than you. I've never taken much to romance and it's never seemed important to me. Like you, the first person I felt like this for... they understood this feeling too. Their father died in a war and mother in childbirth and they spent their whole life being passed from person to person and never having a family or a home. This isn't my first time, though I will say that it is my second. I do know one thing though. If you need time to work this out. If you need something I can't fill... What I mean to say is, I'm happy when you're happy. I'm not asking you to marry me, or start a family with me or whatever. I'm not asking for an immediate serious relationship. Just because we feel the way we do about each other doesn't mean we have to limit ourselves to those feelings. I know you've felt love like this many times, and I know that... you may feel it again in the future, or even now." He shrugged it away. "I know this is going to take time. But I want you to know that I'm not going anywhere. Ever, it seems. That you can count on. Everything else... As long as you come back to me at the end of the day, I don't care about everything else."

And then the Doctor did something splendid. He kissed Y/n. And Y/n did something even greater. He kissed back.

It was a great kiss. One of many. Because this journey? It had only just begun!

-

Male readers: @sheepfather​

[itsmeevie01]

Bio!Dad Bruce Day 3- Siblings

While Marinette and Bruce had been spending the last few years getting to know each other, he had barely said anything about her to his boys. Many times, he would wait until everyone was busy and slip off to Paris. Three months ago, when he had taken Marinette around Gotham, had been the first time she had come to his home. Of course, she had met Dick, but only briefly. Now, as Thanksgiving approached, Bruce wondered if it would be too much to ask her to join him. To ask her if she wanted to meet her brothers. 

After hesitating one last time, he hit the dial button on his phone and held his breath. This would go either really well, or really, really poorly. When he had first gone to discuss with Tom and Sabine, he had told them stories of his boys. Now, he wondered if he had made the right choice to hold off on introducing them.

“Hello? Bruce? Is everything alright?” Sabine’s worried voice at the other end of the line brought him out of his thoughts.

“Sabine, yes, everything is fine. I was calling because I had a question for you.” At the woman’s affirming hum, he continued. “would Marinette be interested in joining me and my family in celebrating Thanksgiving this year? I know that you don’t, but I thought it might be the perfect time to introduce her to the others.” There was a pause on the other end of the line, and he waited. Bruce started to tap his fingers anxiously but refused to open his mouth. If he did…who knows what he would say. The sound of Tom and Sabine talking in French filtered down the line and Bruce worked to keep his mind away from their conversation. Although he wanted his daughter to join them, he refused to eavesdrop on the discussion. At the sound of Sabine clearing her throat, Bruce turned his mind back to the situation at hand.

“Bruce, we’ve talked it over and although we have no problems with Marinette joining you, we would like to leave the final decision up to her.” The man agreed and as both parties hung up the phone, he reminded himself to be positive about the whole thing.

When her parents told her what her Father had proposed, Marinette had been hesitant. Just a few weeks ago, she had received the Ladybug miraculous. The girl was a hesitant hero, but that didn’t stop her from protecting the people who had set their faith in her. After extensively talking the situation over with Tikki, her Kawmii, the teen announced to her parents that she would like to go. That evening, Tikki had slipped out after the girl was asleep and had visited the Guardian. When she had returned, there were a pair of glasses accompanying the small being.

 Two months later, the small girl has pulling a suitcase behind her as she hurried through the airport. Although she had arrived in plenty of time, she wanted to be at her gate with time to spare. International travel was not the time to be late. As she sat there, her sketchbook in hand she glanced about. Fall was one of her favorite seasons. To those who didn’t know her, it always came as a surprise, but the accessories were always so diverse, and the colors always made her look fantastic. Just because pink was her favorite color didn’t mean she didn’t have other things in her closet.

A call for her gate pulled Marinette out of her thoughts and she gathered her things and clung to her sketchbook as she got in line to board. Since her father had paid for the ticket, she had not had the chance to dissuade her father from buying her a first-class ticket. At least, she consoled herself, she got to be comfortable on her 8-hour fight.

When she walked out of the Gotham airport, Marinette looked for the man her father had introduced as his butler (it was times like that when she remembered that her father was rich). When she saw him, she hurried over,

“Hello, Alfred!” the older man smiled down at her a gently took her suitcase from her and guided her out to the car that was waiting for them. As she climbed in, Marinette noticed a sleepy teen a who couldn’t have been more than a few years older than herself sitting in the back seat. Alfred gestured for her to settle in as he moved around to the trunk to load her luggage.

“Master Timothy!” When Alfred called the boy to attention, Marinette used the distraction to check on Tikki the small being gave her a thumbs (flipper??) up and the girl leaned tiredly back against her seat, happy to be out of Paris. Now that he was done with his discussion with Alfred, the boy (Timothy?) turned to her with a smile.

“Marinette, right?” at her nod his smile grew, “it’s nice to finally meet you! The last time you were here this summer I was traveling and wasn’t able to meet you.” As the car made its way towards the manor, Tim started to pull her into conversation. First, on her interests and hobbies, then they started to devolve into things they had found on the internet.  By the time they made it to the manor, she was comfortable with Tim (wait-he was her brother. A brother!) and he had started to become more aware of their surroundings as well.

While Alfred brought her things up to the room she used when visiting her father, Tim guided her into a den that was hidden away in the maze-like manor. There, Marinette was met with her oldest brother, Dick Grayson, as well as a guy with a shock of white hair. As she made her way fully into the room, she noticed a girl with blonde hair sitting happily inside as well. The group got up as they entered, Dick bounding over to wrap her in a hug while the other two gathered nearby to greet her afterwards. When her brother (!) released her form his hug, the other guy strode forward, a tense smile on his face.

“Marinette?” she nodded, suddenly very nervous. “Nice to meet you, I’m Jason.” He flashed her a more genuine smile before stepping back. The blond had just hurried up to her when the telltale sound pf her father’s steps could be heard outside the door. As soon as he had cleared the doorway, she flew at him. the aww that she was sure came from Dick just made her smile victoriously.

The next day, the family of five (plus the blonde who she learned was named Stephanie) set about decorating the manor under the direction of Alfred. Dick cracked Jokes and Jason grumbled under his breath as he was handed a garland of leaves and told to help Marinette as she used her artistic eye to her advantage.

As they chattered, she turned to her father “why are we decorating for fall still, if it’s almost winter?” her question caught the attention of the others and as Bruce smiled at her, Dick jumped at the chance to explain the holiday to her.

As he talked, he started to light up in excitement. Marinette smiled at the way he emoted and brought what he was saying to life.

The next day, Thursday dawned bright and clear. The air had a nip to it and as Marinette settles outside to enjoy the early morning sunshine, she took a deep breath and sighed in happiness. Three years ago, she had found out who her father was. Now, she was here with the rest of his family (!) And was going to celebrate her first holiday with them.

To her, it made it all a little more real.

When Dick came out to get her, he brought news. Over the next few hours, the rest of the family oils arrive. He smiled at the way she lit up and cautioned her that they could be a bit much at times. As they made their way back inside the manor, he made sure she knew that if she ever got overwhelmed, he would help make sure that she was comfortable in the chaos that was to come.

i just wanted to hop over and let y’all know that this probably will be a two parter that i will finish later this month. I’m sorry the ending was a little rough...

[raschuuuu]

WHY DON’T YOU LOVE ME BACK? // M.YG angst (Suga)

Summary: You finally had your debut with your girl group with Big Hit entertainment. That was your absolute biggest dream but what happens when you have to decide now? Do you want to live your idol life and let the love of your life go for it? Or do you decide for the life of your life?

Word count: 5k

Genre: angst

warnings: established relationship / swearing / soft yoongi / mentioning of breakups / mentioning of suicide/death

Pairing: Yoongi!idol x female idol!reader

A/N: Hello guuuuys! Today I hope very much that you will like this one here! I didn't get any requests so I want to say it again one more time: FEEL FREE TO SEND ME YOUR REQUESTS!!! 😟🥺It’s my second fanfic on this blog I worked very hard on it so I really really hope you guys will enjoy it. If you guys think I could do anything better or you have another preferences please let me know. I’d be very happy if you guys leave a like so I know you read it and liked it. Another note: English is not my first language I’m very sorry if you guys find any mistakes.. 💔

_____________________________________________________________________________

5th December 2020

What could be better than having a debut just before the year ends? My group and I were supposed to have our debut much earlier but that was  postponed due to the COVID pandemic so it was complicated to have a debut this year but nevertheless our company managed to give us a debut before the year ends and I really have to say it's the best thing that could ever happen to me!

My dream has finally come true. How long was I a trainee? Exactly. Six years. Six freaking years I was hidden behind the scenes of my big and famous company. It feels really shitty to be in the shadow of two famous groups in South Korea. Don't get me wrong I'm a really big fan of BTS and TXT but we got tired of being told that we're going to make our debut but at the end we didn’t. I know the guys from BTS and TXT  personally and we all get along super well even the other members of my group. But to be honest BTS and TXT couldn't wait for our debut to happen and finally it's here (y/g/n) finally gets the recognition.

31st December 2020

Of course our lives have changed dramatically since we made our debut. Of course it's much harder to go out alone now than before. Before I was a nobody. No one knew me but now I don't even dare to go alone to the convenient store that is just around the corner of our dorm. You might think I'm exaggerating a bit but no, unfortunately it's the truth. Nevertheless, I don't want to spoil my idol life. After our debut we had a lot of promotions and interviews. But even before that we didn't have much time because we had to shoot our music video and photo shoots and we were all sent to the hairdresser because our old look was officially bye bye. I’m happy with my new look I think I look so beautiful I can't believe what a haircut and a nice makeup can do to a person.

Today is the 31st of December. New Year's Eve! New year takes place in less than 24 hours! Where am I? I'm at this year's MBC Gayo DaeJeon. My first new year's eve without my family and officially my first new year's eve as an idol. I'm so excited I can't believe it I'm going to be on stage with my girls and I'm meeting other idols how exciting is that. I'm sitting in the makeup room getting my makeup done by our makeup artist and on the side our hairstylist is making me a high ponytail. I hope I'll look good. Dabi, the oldest of our group and therefore our Unni, has just finished and looks adorable. Miso sits to my left and is also getting her make-up and hair done. Hyemi is getting ready after me because she doesn't take up much time. She has the shortest hair of all of us. I’m sitting with my mobile phone in my hand and texting with my mother. Sometimes I wish I could be with her and with my father and my siblings. I miss them all like hell. I haven't seen them since before our debut. I can't wait to hold them all in my arms next time.

(eomma):

y/n we miss you! New year's eve isn't the same without you but hopefully you'll have fun on stage today. We'll all be watching you! Your dad and I your grandparents and your siblings so don't worry we're always with you! Good luck my child fighting! 🎉🎆

I notice how i get tears in my eyes but no I mustn't cry my makeup gets ruined. Just as I want to answer my mother i get a new text on my phone.

(yoongi):

I'm excited to see you tonight! You'll be great I believe in you.

By the way... I guess I didn't tell you that I'm dating Min Yoongi. That's right, Min Yoongi.

flashback

2014

"Y/n! We're about to meet BTS!" says Hyemi as I just walked into the dance practice room. What BTS? The group that made their debut last year? "Really why?" I ask looking at her confused. Apparently all new trainee male or female, are introduced to BTS because they want to give us some nice words and encouragement on our way as trainees. Just as I was about to sit down, the seven men came in the door. One after the other, they passed us by. Wow, these guys can count themselves lucky that their time is up. But one boy in particular stands out to me. He has red hair. Not too light and not too dark, a red that almost goes brown. He is beautiful.

I haven't really informed myself about who BTS is, of course I still have difficulties to remember their names, I just became a trainee before I didn't care who was a trainee here... but this man is beautiful!

Oh crap he looks at me. Why is he looking at me. Someone tell him to look the other way please I’m so awkward I don't know how to act when someone looks at me I better look the other way. The leader said some nice words to us they all wished us luck and said that they can't wait for us to make our debut and that when the day comes they're all gonna be happy and supportive! Really nice of them I never thought that they would do something like that. We all got up and bowed and said thank you, while BTS was about to walk out I saw the red haired boy looking at me one last time before he went out. Crazy man do I have something on my face stop staring!

2015

I started to get to know them better each and every one of them. I get along best with Hoseok and Taehyung. Every now and then we run into each other in the building and talk for a few minutes. We trainees also got to meet all the guys in person, they are all so nice and down to earth I don't regret it one bit that I joined this company! Jungkook is about my age and every now and then we have a few laughs together. Once you are in the company you are like one big family whether it is with the trainees or the staff. However I have not been able to get close to one person and that is Min Yoongi. I don't know what it is but every time he and I are in a room with other people it just gets awkward. I don't know what it is but every time he is near me I feel intimidated and just want to get out of there. We've never spoken a word to be honest maybe it's because he feels awkward around me too? I can't understand why he feels this way I always try to get along with everyone even if i don't want to and make everyone feel comfortable around me because I want it to be mutual. So what's his problem?

2016

I have heard from his members that he has a crush on me and gets shy around me which I totally don't understand because how can anyone be into me? Especially back then! I don't want to go into too much detail but I can tell you that after a while and with the help of Hoseok and Taehyung he and I started texting at some point. We had been friends for a long time but only online. We were both too nervous to meet in person and to be honest that had been impossible because he was busy as fuck and no one was supposed to find out that we were texting. BTS recognition grew more and more each year and he became busier and busier each day. I was of course very happy for everyone and one rainy day in the evening Yoongi appeared out of nowhere on my doorstep and confessed his love to me. I am still overwhelmed by it and it all feels so unreal and like it just happened yesterday, but I went for it and agreed to be his girlfriend.

back to December 31st 2020

For four years we have been hiding our relationship. Nobody knows about it the whole Big Hit staff doesn't know about it and neither do our managers the only ones who know about it are his members and recently my members. I didn't want to tell them until we made our debut together because I was too scared of being told off during my trainee time. But I have to say that the girls stand behind me and accept our relationship and they all swore they would take it to the grave with them.

I quickly turn down the brightness of my screen because there's too much danger of my hairstylist and makeup artist reading the text. I close my phone and put it on my lap. How much I want to answer him but I don't dare I can't answer him when there are too many people around me. After a while we were called and it was finally our turn I'm so nervous but we managed it all with flying colors and we were the topic of the evening.

In a few minutes it's already new year I'm ready and let 2021 come to me. At midnight Yoongi calls me and I answer the phone with joy.

"Happy new year y/n! I love you and I hope we will spend more time together this year even though it will be harder now." I smile to myself and say "Happy new year Yoongi... how is your shoulder? Are you resting enough? Are you eating enough? Are you sleeping enough? Are you in pain? If you are in pain then take a painkiller and go back to the doctor!" I can't see it but I can tell he is grinning and shaking his head. I don't let him get a word in edgewise.

"Don't worry I’m fine I just miss you you're the only painkiller I can take" - "Hahaha yah! You're so corny! I miss you too sweetheart I wish we had spent this new year together... I’m sorry it turned out like this!" I feel really bad because I know he won't be able to spend new year with his boys or me... To be honest we have never had a new year together except on the phone but this time it could have worked out! He is at home with his injury and if we wouldn't have had our debut then we would have had a first new year together after four years of relationship!

January 10th 2021

At the beginning of the new year our manager gave us our schedule plan at it looked hella busy! This whole January we would be completely busy we don't even have one weekend off! I can’t believe it how will I able to see my family or even Yoongi? I saw him at the first weekend of January we spent it together at his family’s house in Daegu behause to be honest that is actually the only place that we can go to a little far away from Seoul without having to worry that any of the staff could know or see us. My family also knows and loves him to death but with my family living in Seoul it’s complicated to take him there. Our manager left the room and I looked at Dabi with the ‘You and I bathroom NOW!’ look she understood and got up from her place and she followed me to the bathroom. We checked if any other person was inside when there wasn’t I said “What the fuck I’m I gonna do now Unni? How am I able to see Yoongi? How will I be able to even go out. I won’t even have time to take the fucking trash out from our dorm when it’s my turn to clean!” I yell. She stands there giving me a confused look. “What do you expect y/n? You chose to have this idol life you know its busy and complicated to have a boyfriend especially as a fresh debuted idol! Why do you think they won't let us have a relationship? I wish I could help you but I can’t. We’re gonna be busy as fuck!” she yelled back. “Psh shut your volume down unni!” she opened the door to see if there was anyone outside but there wasn’t.

I feel bad I really do. I don't want my members to be in trouble because of me that's the last thing I want. I hug her and apologize to her. I have to think of something I don't know what to do. I don't want us to be away from each other for too long what happens when he stops loving me all of a sudden? What do I do when he goes back to work then it will all be worse! Before I became an idol we could always see each other at the end of the day but now it will be impossible. I have to talk to him about it because one thing we promised each other is that we talk about everything because that's the only way a healthy relationship can work and such a complicated relationship we both have. I take out my phone and write him a message.

(me):

Yoongi. Tonight FaceTime date you and me?

In less than two minutes I already get my answer.

(yoongi):

of course!

evening

I turn on my MacBook and call him on FaceTime. After three rings he answers the phone and turns it off too so he doesn't have to hold it in his hand. He still has his bandage on and his hair is wet he must have been in the shower. He wears cute pyjamas and fight me or not but black haired Yoongi is the most beautiful Yoongi. I always fall in love again when I see him. Hard to believe we were so awkward with each other back then but this year is already approaching 5 years together. I could never imagine my life without him. 

"Hey my darling" he says happily and smiles at me. I smile back and ask him how he is. He tells me that he is getting better every day and that during his time off he has found a lot of time for himself and his music and how much he misses the others. And me too, of course. "What's wrong with you?" he asks me when he notices that my mind is somewhere else. I think he took the Facetime date too seriously. He be sitting there with his cup of ramen. I just laugh. "Yoongi... I'm going to be busy all of January and manager oppa said that February might not be any better," I say and wait for his answer. He swallows his noodles and drinks a glass of water. "Does that mean we won't see each other this month?" he asks. I think he's a little disappointed I know him and I know his tones and his looks and I can hear my heart breaking by now. And how much I'd like to see you Yoongi. Every second every day. "No," I say, and then an uncomfortable silence descends. 

“You know what baby it’s fine don't worry. I mean I wasn’t any better back then do you remember when I always used to be so busy? I never had time for you and I felt so bad. But you were there for me and you stayed by my side and you were and still are the most supportive girlfriend I could ever ask for. I think it would be unfair to be mad at you. I’m happy for you forever and always” well that was unexpected. I start getting tears in my eyes. I didn't think of this reaction not at all! I smile at him and say “Thank you baby... I will appreciate it I really do. But still I feel bad because especially in this period where you're sick I wish I could be there for you and take care of you. This debut was so unexpected I’m really sorry” - “Yah don't be sorry y/n. You worked your goddamn fine ass off to be where you're at right now be proud of you this is just the beginning. And it’s not like that we won't see each other ever again right?” he says. He’s right. He’s totally right. It’s not like we won't see each other ever again.

January 17th 2020

Well... seven days passed and we still haven't seen each other and we haven't talked since one week. We text every now and then cause I really only get to use my phone when it's night and we go back home but every night I'm so damn exhausted and tired that I forget to answer to his texts. I don't even have time to text my parents back or my siblings. I feel so bad I'm such a bad person. I miss them all so much. I miss my parents. I miss my sister and my brother. I miss my grandparents. I miss my boyfriend. I miss my boyfriend so damn much. I really didn't think this life is gonna be so hard for me. I feel like I've been put in the middle of a scale with my career on one side and my relationship on the other side and I have to choose one side or the other. I've never thought about breaking up with Yoongi ever in my life. Never. I just can't. I need this man too much. Even though we never have the most beautiful and perfect relationship and see each other very rarely, it's just the thought that I know there's someone in my life who loves me and accepts me for who I am that counts. He took me with my imperfections he put his career what he loves most in his life in risk to be with me and now that we are both in this situation I don't know what to do I feel bad and selfish for even thinking about it I don't want to make him feel like my career is more important than him or our relationship he doesn't deserve that he deserves the world and he deserves to be happy. But I love my career I love my job I love my members I love our staff I love our fans. Our biggest fear was not being accepted by the society outside especially now in this period when BTS is one of the biggest groups in the whole world and have a very big influence in the KPOP industry. We were afraid that society would think that since we are the first girl group to make a Big Hit debut in a very long time that people would think that we would mess with the boys heads or that there would be any rumors started between us and the other groups. But on the contrary people have been happy for us and love our music and us individually. I feel like Hannah Montana I feel like I am living a double life.

20th January 2021

"I know you are overwhelmed with the situation my child, I can imagine that it is very hard for you but you have to know what is best for you. You can't tell anyone from your company, you are a rookie, if they find out you had a boyfriend during your trainee time then it is even worse. I wish I was with you and could help you or just be there for you. I love Yoongi very much but I love you even more and I am happy with any decision you make. Just make the right one" my mother says on the phone. Tears have been flowing since she got on the phone but I don't want to tell her and I try not to sob but I know she can tell by my tone that I am crying. She is right. I have to make a decision. Yoongi is getting better day by day and soon he will be busy too he will go back to his daily routine and the other members. He will have comebacks he will have dance practices he will have to go to the recording studio he will have photo shoots he will do interviews and when the corona situation allows he will have to go to other countries and I have to do the same.

I love him to death and I will never love anyone as much as I love him but I am just not happy like this and you can tell me what you want he is not either but he doesn't let it show. Yesterday on the phone there was such an awkward tension between us it felt like I was making small talk with a stranger. Even though I might be the bad guy but one of us has to make the first move. I have wished and hoped that this day will never come but I have to do it.

23 January 2021

Yoongi told me that he is back in his flat in Seoul with his mother. Unfortunately he still can't travel alone so his dear mum went with him. I missed her too, she's the nicest and sweetest woman ever. When I imagine that I won't see her again either, tears well up in my eyes. But today I have to do it. Who would have thought that our reunion would be like this? Who would have thought that I would break up with him. He won't expect it but I have to do it. I’m cold and sick and I just want to go to bed and get the day over with. It's 11pm at night and we've come home after a long hard day. I look out the window and wait until our manager is out of sight.

My members know about my plans and of course have asked me a million times if I am sure and if there is no other way out. I am very happy that they are worried about me but I also feel bad towards them. I have been hiding it from them all our trainee years and when I told them they were all so good about it and even want me not to do it. But no I will do it I am young and want to concentrate on my career and what is coming up for us.

I told Yoongi that I would come, of course he doesn't want to because it's way too late but I said it was important and that we had to talk about something. When I said we had to talk about something he was quiet and then just said he would wait for me. I put on a hat and a thick jacket and the hood of the jacket and a mask and a scarf and go out into the high snow that has covered Seoul. His flat is not far from mine but still I have to take a taxi. I ask the driver to wait for me because I don't want to stay there long I want to get it over with quickly and go.

(me):

can you come down?

(yoongi):

why don't you come up?

(me):

I think its better when you come down Yoongi I don't want your mom to be worried or hears any of that were gonna talk.

He doesn't text back instead I just see the lights turning on from his window. A few minutes later he comes down. Oh my fucking lord he is so handsome. I want to run up to him and kiss him from head to toe. I want to be in his arms. I want us to go upstairs together and fall asleep together. I want to build a snowman with him. I want to be with him forever I love him he is the love of my life.

He comes up to me and smiles at me. He stands in front of me and we both don't say a word. His smile turns into a confused look he notices something is wrong. "Don't I get a kiss or a hug?" he asks me. My heart breaks into a thousand pieces. I would love to rip your clothes off Min Yoongi.

"I want to break up." Silence. Silence. Silence. Silence. "Yoongi say something?" I ask him. He says nothing. He looks at me with a blank look he is sad he is disappointed he is devastated just like me. "Yoongi please?". He does not speak.

"Yoongi, I'm sorry. I-i-I really love you I love you more than anything but I know that I can't give 100% in our relationship now. I just want us to be happy but I see that we are not. It could have been great during your time off but I can't be there for you... sooner or later it should have happened. I want to be with you but I can't anymore it was okay then but it's not okay now we're both famous you're in the biggest boy group in the world if anyone finds out we're together we'll be screwed. Especially me Yoongi. Female idols have it harder than male idols you know that. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time and I think this will be the best thing for us I-" he interrupts me.

"How dare you to tell me what's best for me? Do you have any idea what you're talking about y/n? Stop trying to tell me what's best for me when you know you're the best thing that's ever happened to me in my life god damn. I was going through a difficult time in my life and you were the only one who was there for me! And now you're telling me let’s break up because you're afraid people are gonna find out? And that they are gonna blame you? The fuck? Theres always two fucking persons in a relationship y/n! I also wanted that. I wanted you. Don’t you love me anymore? Why don’t you love me anymore? We hid our relationship for four fucking years why can't we hide it now?" he said yelling at me.

 I am shocked and sad I want to die. I don't want to live in this life without Min Yoongi. But I know it's best for us I do it for him and his career too.

"Yes I don't love you anymore" were my last words before I left.

________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: damn y/n!!! did you just break up with the mf min yoongi? you better save your relationship! guys if you want a part two (with maybe a happy ending?) let me know! love you bye 🎀

[mamabear-elinor]

The Forging of Bitter Bonds

III. A Shining Light September 07, 1992; September 14, 1992

[cw for a small instance of ~~casual racism]

The first day of the semester at the University of Edinburgh was insignificant to most. The weather was average; overcast and cool, the wind sweeping in off the ocean and chilling the bone if one was not careful. Elinor found it invigorating as she walked over the uneven cobblestones through the stone corridor that led out onto the street in Old Town. She checked the map that the student’s union had passed out at orientation and then crossed the street and into the warm little pub. 

“Ellie!” A pretty, redheaded girl stood up in her seat and waved rambunctiously, garnering the attention of a few other patrons of the quaint pub. 

Quickly, Elinor headed toward the table and slipped into the seat across from her. “Goldie, crivvens, you’re going to get us kicked out.” 

“Oh, psh. It’s fine. I already made friends with ol’ Tommy.” She wiggled the whiskey in her hand. 

“You’re underage,” Elinor pointed out, torn between disapproving and impressed.

“That’s such a nice name, don’t you think?” Marigold DunBroch ignored her. 

Elinor turned and looked over her shoulder at the bartender, who was nothing to look at. Old and balding, with a red nose and a missing front tooth. “No,” she replied primly after her assessment.

Marigold made a face but just sat back in her seat. “How was it then? I don’t have class until tomorrow, thank God.” 

Finally, Elinor smiled. “Wonderful! My professor for Art History 101 is a woman, Professor Howell. She’s amazing. I want to be just like her.” 

“You got all that from one class?” Marigold curled her fingers in a wave at a strapping young lad a few tables away, not looking in her friend’s direction. 

“Have you ever heard of Artemisia?” 

“Bless you.”

“Hilarious. Listen.” Elinor tugged her friend’s arm. “She was this woman painter in the seventeenth century. She was the first woman to be a member of the Accademia di Arte del Disegno. I didn’t even know women were painters then! It’s only my first day and I’ve already learned so much. Oh, there was another one. I can’t remember her name, shoot.” 

Elinor dove for her notebook in her satchel, which was made from fine leather. Her father had given it to her as a gift. She pulled out her notebook and sat back up. 

There was a girl standing in front of their table. 

“Oh, hello,” Elinor said with a tight smile, her brow furrowed slightly. “Can I help you?” 

Marigold had turned her focus on the newcomer as well. 

“You’re in Professor Howell’s class.” Her accent was Scottish, but there was something strange about it. Elinor could not place it.  

“Yes?” Elinor had a feeling it was not a question. 

“Me too,” the girl smiled. “I’m Sorcha. Can I sit with you? All the other tables are full and it’s started raining.” 

Elinor glanced over her shoulder to the rain, then over at Marigold, who shrugged a little and moved her stuff over to make room. “Yeah, sure, sit. Please.”

“Fabulous.” Sorcha did not need telling twice. She plopped down in the spare seat as soon as the table was clear. Her gold jewelry glinted in the low light, almost too bright for the dim pub. There were raindrops in the tight curls of her black hair. They caught the light too, twinkling like stars. She reached up and shook out her hair. A few droplets fell onto the table. “Sorry. I forgot my scarf at home today. It wasn’t supposed to rain.”

“That--that’s alright,” Elinor said after a moment. 

Sorcha smiled at her. “You’re sweet. I didn’t get your names--?” 

“I’m Marigold DunBroch.” Marigold held out her hand. “And that’s Elinor Briar. We call her Ellie, though.” 

“No, no we don’t,” Elinor corrected, feeling the tips of her ears heat slightly. 

“No worries,” Sorcha said, leaning back in her chair and spreading her legs so that one of her knees bumped the table, making Elinor jump slightly. Her posture was horrid. It was alarming. “I like Elinor better. It’s pretty. Do you know what it means?” 

Elinor furrowed her brow, her eyes jumping up from Sorcha’s thigh which was encroaching into her space. “What? No, uh--I think it was my grandmother’s name or...something like that.” 

“Shame. You know, a name can tell a lot about a person.” 

“How’s that?” This was Marigold, her eyes sparking bright as she leaned forward slightly.

“Well, you were named after your grandmother or something?” Sorcha was still looking at Elinor, her dark eyes assessing. 

Elinor couldn’t quite meet her gaze. “Do Marigold,” she mumbled, but cleared her throat and laughed once. 

“Yes, tell me about my name.” 

“Alright.” Sorcha’s eyes lingered for another moment on Elinor and then turned to Marigold, who was sitting primly, shoulders back, and wide, dazzling smile. Ever since they had been young, Marigold commanded every conversation her and Elinor were in. They did not see each other often, but if anyone asked, Marigold DunBroch was Elinor’s best friend in the whole world. 

“Well, from what I know marigolds are used for Día de los muertos.” 

“What’s that?” Marigold asked, grinning like a loon now at the attention being lavished on her.

Outside, thunder rumbled and the rain began to come down more steadily against the window pane. Elinor realized she was still clutching her notebook. She wondered, if she just took a peak, if she would be able to remember the name of the artist they’d learned about in class. Maybe the artist had a name that meant something important. 

“It translates to the Day of the Dead. A day when the veil between worlds is thinnest and the deceased walk amongst the living.” 

Elinor shivered as if one of the cool raindrops from the windowpane had slipped down her spine. 

Marigold deflated slightly, her blue eyes a bit more cautious. “Oh. Well! Do Elinor’s. I bet it means something lame like--dark-haired. Her parents are so unoriginal.”

“I--don’t know, actually,” Sorcha admitted with a little shrug, but when she looked at Elinor again, she had the sense that Sorcha knew more than she was letting on. “At least you have a family name. That’s nice. To have a legacy like that.” 

“Yes, I suppose.” Elinor took a sip of her water. 

A legacy. That was certainly something her family had given her. Or, more accurately, placed on her shoulders without her consent. She felt it heavy now, her first day of classes behind her and now a countdown until her new first day of classes. Elinor had yet to tell Marigold that she would be transferring to Oxford. In fact, she had yet to tell her that she was no longer seeing Francis Smith. She didn’t want to think about any of that. She wanted to enjoy her semester. To learn what she could. The comment had brought her back down again, though, as she was reminded that this was not permanent. Professor Howell would not be her teacher next year. Nor even next semester. She couldn’t write her thesis with the woman. It was silly of Elinor to have even been thinking of it. 

“What does your name mean then, Sorcha?” Marigold asked, not sensing her friend’s withdrawal. She put an elbow on the table (unladylike.) 

“It means brightness,” Sorcha said and those dark eyes of hers sparked, her white teeth stark against the dark lipstick and her dark skin.

“I have an Aunt Sorcha and she is not bright at all.” Marigold laughed loud enough that she snorted. 

“I think you’re very bright,” Elinor blurted without thinking and then felt her ears burn.

The look that Sorcha fixed her with made Elinor’s stomach churn. She felt as if somehow Sorcha had looked right through her. Or, perhaps, more accurately, directly into her, like she could see Elinor’s soul. This time, though, Elinor couldn’t look away. Their eyes locked. 

Then, Sorcha’s face broke out into another grin. “Aw, thanks, sweetie pie,” she said, reaching out to squeeze Elinor’s forearm. Her nails were long and bright red. (Garish, Elinor’s mother said in her head. Only women of certain proclivities paint their nails bright like that, pale colours only or don’t paint your nails at all.) “You’re not so bad yourself.” She winked.

“Oh, uh--I just meant--”

“I know what you meant.” Sorcha patted her arm. “Now, what’s in that notebook? I saw you pulling it out when I came over.”

“I was just--we can talk about something else.”

“Well, how am I gonna say if I wanna talk about it or something else unless you tell me what it is?”

“It was just some artist she was trying to remember,” Marigold waved. “I’d much rather know more about you, Sorcha. Where are you from?” 

“Spain,” Sorcha replied offhand. She was still looking at Elinor. “What is the work from the artist? Was it one of the ones we were shown in class?”

“Spain? But you sound like a Scot!” Marigold said, looking like a dog with a bone. She was even more curious now.

“That’s because I grew up here. Now, what artist is it?” 

“It’s really--I can’t remember at this point,” Elinor said, leaning over to slide her notebook back into her bag. “It’s not important.” 

“You’ll just have to tell me next class. Looks like the rain has cleared, so I’m going to head out.” She stood up, the chair scraping behind her. 

Elinor blinked rapidly. “Oh, well. It was nice to meet you.” 

“You too.” She gave a little salute and then sauntered off.

“That was...odd,” Elinor commented, shifting in her seat slightly, crossing her ankles. 

“I liked her,” Marigold replied with a grin. 

→ → → 

The next week, after classes, as Elinor headed back out into the misty evening. Someone called her name.

“Elinor!” 

Turning, she saw Sorcha waving at her, then jogging down the steps to meet her. She had a bright yellow scarf tied around her thick hair this time. 

“Did you remember the artist?” 

“Oh, uhm, yes,” Elinor said as she began walking back toward her dorm. “It was Leonora Carrington.” It was a good thing the wind was brisk, for it hid the warmth of her cheeks. 

“You would totally like Carrington,” Sorcha agreed with a sage nod of her head.

“What? What is that supposed to mean?” 

“I just figured she’d be your style.” 

“How?” 

“I don’t know. Just a hunch.” 

They walked silently for a few steps. Elinor had assumed that Sorcha would peel off again, but instead she stayed right next to Elinor, her wide hips occasionally bumping Elinor’s own. 

“I looked up what my name means,” Elinor admitted after a few more moments. 

The smile Sorcha gave her made Elinor think that she had somehow known this too. “And?” Sorcha prompted. 

“Light of God, I suppose. There were a few other meanings but--”

“That was the one that stood out to you?” 

“No, I mean...that is probably what my parents intended anyhow.” 

“Who cares what they think? That’s not what I asked.” 

Elinor, if she was not so well-schooled in walking gracefully, might have tripped over a cobblestone. She clutched her books tight to her chest. Who cares what they think? What an absurd thing to say. 

“Well--it also means shining light or...the bright one.” Elinor’s heart felt like it was beating extremely fast for a casual, brisk autumn stroll across campus.

“We match!” Sorcha sounded extraordinarily pleased with herself. “That’s brilliant. Would you like to join my study group?” 

“Oh, I--” Elinor had a feeling saying no would be rude. She didn’t want to say no. Or...did she? There was a part of her that did. She was only going to be here for one semester. Gone before the snow melted and the spring bloomed again. Making friends had never been a priority for her anyway. She wanted to do well in school, so that her parents would give her freedom. If she failed, they would drag her back to the castle kicking and screaming. 

Education for women was a privilege, after all. 

“It’ll be fun, I promise.” 

“Very well,” Elinor agreed stiffly. 

“Perfect, we meet in classroom 124B on Wednesdays from 6pm to 7pm. I will see you there!” Abruptly, Sorcha turned on her heel and struck off straight across the quad. As she went, she removed the scarf from her head, allowing her hair to spring free, even though the rain had just begun in earnest. 

[ihopethisendswell]

The part where you get basic info on my Pokémon oc's so you don't get confused when I post about them.

This is gonna be a long post. I have like 8 total. 16 if your counting the secondary protags (my version of May and Lucas for example,which I won't be going over in detail cause I'm not insane). Might want to check my timeline 9 it's pinned or just check bulbapedia if your confused about the ages. If you have any questions feel free to ask. I hope you enjoy :)

Name :Jin Amachi

Gender: " I am nonbinary. I they/ them pronouns, but I'm alright with he/ him as well.

Age:

12( when started journey in Hoenn( Emerald)

22 by SM/USUSM

26 by SWSH

Basic info: With all things said and done, Jin is grateful for their journey. They learned a lot, even if they had to stop two extreme environmentalist along the way. They know the two meant well, but it's just too bizarre for it to happen. Though the two seem to be in a better place now. They're happy for them. They're father and them talk more now. It's still awkward, but better. They know he's trying his best, and they will do the same. It's much better than back then. But no need to worry about the past.

If anything, they're more worried about the others.

Kenji Elm

Gender: " I'm getting sudden dejavu. But I'm a boy! The best boy! Don't call me a girl, I will cry. And because I'm not one! So don't. Anyway have you heard of-" * starts to ramble*

Age:

10 when journey started in Johto( HGSS)

17 by SM

21 by SWSH

Basic Info: Kenji Elm is not the biological son of Professor Elm. He was adopted at a young age, and he doesn't know who is birth parents. Not that he cares. He's more than happy with the family he got( though he wonders when they'll throw him away like his parents did). Energetic and always willing for an adventure, Kenji is generally on the move!( He's so sorry if he's being annoying please don't leave please)

He has a vast amount of interests, but his two favorites are painting and battling. Battling is obvious, he's the champion of the Indigo League, but he always had an artistic eye. But his favorite pastime is hanging out with his friends! When he gets the time of course. He's sometimes wonder how he was able to hold the title of champion for so long though haha ( his win was a fluke he knows it he knows it) .But yeah! That's Kenji! Always there with a smile! Our little golden boy! 😁

Name: Danica Yamamoto

Gender: "I'm a girl. She/her pronouns. They/ them is cool too. Don't mind Kenji, he talks a lot." *Offended Kenji noises in the background*

Age:

11 when journey started in Sinnoh( Platinum)

18 by SM)

22 by SWSH

Basic Info: Giratina and Arcues are quite alike, the more she thinks about it. Though, the rest if Sinnoh, quite possibly the whole world would disagree with her. Giratina is " the lord of darkness". It's followers have a history of not being....the best. Giratina resides alone in the Distortion World, paying for it's past sins. Clearly, Giratina and Arcues are nothing alike.

Hm? Oh. Right. Pardon.

Danica grew up in Twinleaf town, with her best friend Barry. Those two are almost polar opposites. Barry is always moving, going fast, and doesn't wait for no one( except Danica and Emmet). Danica can go fast, possibly faster than Barry, but likes to take things slow. Both can be quite chaotic.Barry has a bit of a temper, Danica's chill. Both are cases where you should run when they are angry. Like. Very angry. The two bounces of each other well,and hang out regularly with Emmet, even with their busy professions ( Danica as champion, Barry as Frontier Brain and Emmet as a professor). Danica loves baking, and would often be making poffins and other baked treats for her, her pokemon and others ! She's also a bit of a nerd, so you'll also find her in a library or two. Her pokemon are her babies, and she hopes to have plenty of battles with them in the future!

.....

But really. They are quite alike. Both are beings of great power. Both have a following, even if one is less seen. Both are feared. They are feared greatly. Do they fear each other? Did Arcues banish Giratina in fear of the world or in fear of losing control? Did Giratina learn it's lesson after eons of being in the Distortion World? She could never tell. It doesn't really open up much, only going back to said Distortion World on its own Accord( it felt wrong to be it's "owner"). Though it do comes back, surprisingly. Maybe because she asked it to. To make sure Cyrus doesn't die in there. He still won't come out. She doesn't understand why. It's been years. Has he learned his lesson? Giratina seems to be fond of him. Affectionate. Cyrus never objects to this. So he must right? Right?

Ah, getting off topic. They're quite alike, being feared by the masses. Even if Arcues is mostly beloved. It's a god. It has such power. They're both feared. They themselves must fear as well . It must get lonely....... She thinks she gets Cyrus now.

Name: Alexis " Alex" Jones

Gender: " Um, hi? I'm just a dude. Use he/ him pronouns.....yeah"

Age:

14 when journey started in Unova( BW)

18 by SM

22 by SWSH

Basic info: It's so funny, the more he thinks about. He was so excited, despite his worries. He was going on a journey. A gym challenge. Pathway to champion. He was going to do that! With his sister and his friends! On his birthday! It was perfect! It should have been perfect! But everything just went wrong.

The bodies, the blood, the pressure to " be a hero"( intentional or not), it was all too much. Too much. Then- then he was a coward. He fled it all. Even after saving the day. It was stupid. So stupid. And the people in his life had a right to be angry. Why wouldn't they? He deserved it, really. But now things are better(?). He has a daycare to co-run, he's gradually learning his way as a pokemon medic, and he still has his pokemon( the ones that were lucky enough to survive). He's so grateful for them. He doesn't battle, though. No, he's never doing that ever again. He's caused enough harm( he hates how he stares at trainers battling). He's no good anyway( he hates how bored his team looks half the time) . He doesn't understand why people insist that he is( he hates that he has this itch, this desire). He doesn't understand why they look so disappointed when he says he doesn't battle anymore( he hates that he misses the rush, the strategy, the freedom of it all). He's fine with what he got. He's no hero.

.....Why is his aunt calling him?

Name: Evangeline " Eva" Ortiz

Gender: " Hiya! I'm a lovely lady! I use she/her pronouns, please and thank you!"

Age:

14 when journey started ( B2W2)

16 by SM

20 by SwSh

Basic Info: Eva! Eva my Beloved. Eva's fun, y'know? Always moving, helping, laughing, smiling. Life of the party! She rivals Kenji with that winning smile. Not to mention that she's a great battler! It's almost like she was born for this. Maybe she is! Who knows. But what she do know is that she's Unova's Champ and she gotta defend her title! And protect her region! Though she probably would have done that without the title anyway haha! Hmm what else? Oh! She loves technology! For some reason that surprises a lot of people that don't really know her, but she does! She's a bit of a tinkerer if she do say so herself. She likes it when people compliment on her skills it makes her more confident in them. Even Col-

No.

....

Ahem.

Anyway she's pretty talented. But that comes from a lot of hard work! And luck. But lots of hard work.( And also luck). Aaaah, that should that's it? Well, she does tend to be distant, b-but she's busy, yeah? Don't worry about it. Oh! One more thing. It's not really a big deal, just a random fact.

She hates the cold.

Name Jude Bellrose

Gender: "...... Why do you care ?" ( E: Jude don't be rude! Al: No no, she has a point.) *Ooc: Jude is genderfluid. Right now, in this post, she's using she/ her pronouns, but she also uses he/him and they/them*

Age:

18 when journey started in Kalos( XY)

20 by SM

24 by SwSh

Basic info: Death has a way of teaching you things. Jude learned a lot from it. She learns to not take it for granted, both death itself and the one that is dead.She learns to be humble. She learns to be kind.

Jude was, and still is, prickly. She's not rude my any means, unless she is, but she's just hard to become friends with. She used to have this philosophy of trainer and pokemon; they should be no emotional bonds. They're not here for that. They're here to win. And she did. Until she didn't. Her first pokemon died. It devastated her. Her pokemon, surprisingly, comforted her. And then another one died, and her pokemon comforted her again. Star, her Staraptor, was strong. So strong, and yet it died, and she cried and get pokemon cried with her. She never felt so loved. Not saying that her mother doesn't love her, the opposite really, it's just things have been....complicated. Couple that with strangers turn( begrudgingly) friends, and Jude's heart turned all warm inside. Not that she'll ever admit that outloud.

Jude is a kind person, despite her prickly nature. She loves the world around her, loves her friends, loves her pokemon. She respects death, despite the pain she causes her. The world itself of beautiful as it is, which it's such a shame that a capitalist fool a certain someone couldn't see that way( poor Sycamore).

Jude is a good trainer, despite her loss. She knows this. She'll prove it too the moon and back. If only a certain someone thought the same for himself.

Aster Mahina

Gender: "...." "Mizzz Aster is a girl! She uses she/her pronouns! Zzt."

Age:

11 in SM, where her journey started

15 by SwSh

Basic Bio: Aster doesn't hate Kanto. She doesn't. She was born there and lived there for 11 years. She just doesn't want to back. But she has to, cause she's " the first champion of Alola and as champion" yada yada yada. Like. She gets it. Being Alola's first and currently only champion, you gotta make an impression. She gets that. She still doesn't want to go. Even when she's been there, like, 4 times now. There are some good things in Kanto though. Lillie is there. And seeing Lillie physically is always a plus. She also gets to see Uncle Red, Uncle Green, and Aunt Blue. Kenji, while not living in Kanto, is champion of the Indigo League, and it's always fun with Kenji( she loves his art). But. Like. She still doesn't want to go.

But she also likes being Champion. That means she's strong. And since she's strong she can protect her mom. But she can't protect her mom when she's all the way in Kanto! What if he comes back? What if goes to Alola when she's away? She knows that her mom is strong, she knows that but still!

No. No it's okay. Her mom is strong. Lillie is strong. Gladion is strong . Hau is strong. Guzma is strong. They're all strong. She's strong.

She is strong.

Name: Naomi Einar

Gender: "I-I'm a girl! She/her pronouns please!"

Age:

15 in SWSH, which is the start of her gym challenge in Galar!

Basic Info: Hop is pretty convincing, she realizes. Or maybe she's very weak willed. " Let's do the gym challenge together!" He said. He had that look in his eye. She couldn't say no. Or she could, but that would make him upset, and that's the last thing she wants.

If she's being honest with herself, she's scared. She doesn't like big crowds, the attention. They'll be so many eyes on her. So many. A-and then there's Lee and her cousin, Alexis. Hop has made her sit down and watch almost every single match Leon has had. He's an amazing trainer. A-and her mum would tell her stories about Alexis. He was a hero! He stopped an evil team and everything! She can't live up to that! She never even battled before, why would Hop-

No. It's okay. It's okay. She- she'll just quite after failing the first gym. She can handle the embarrassment. And then she'll cheer Hop on when he wins against his brother. Yep. She'll do just that. Okay. Okay.

.....

Everyday, Slumbering Weald seem to intrigue her more and more. It's almost like it's calling her. Da?

No. It- it'sprobably nothing.

[mcmactictac]

Always Gold by Radical Face is a c! crime boys song please let me elaborate.

First of all, Welcome home son by radical face is a c! Tommy and c! Techno song. So as an sbi enthusiast I think it’s fun to give them songs by the same artist who have very similar vibes. Radical face has a wonderful job of calmly showing intense emotion. When you listen to the words in a lot of their songs it’s very emotional, but you can also tune out and just listen to the music. I’m working my way through their discography but they just radiate fanon sbi vibes. Same energy as a piece of fanart I saw a long time ago with Tommy sleeping on Wilburs lap as techno leans against them. Just that calm and relaxed sense of love and belonging.

Anyways analysis time woo let’s crank out some lyrics. Honestly the lyrics are so perfect throughout I’m basically going to include most of the song oops.

“We were tight knit boys, Brothers in more than name. You would kill for me And knew that I'd do the same”

Already off to a good start. I mean the tight knit part is obvious, like they’re both incredibly close with each other, especially at the beginning. Brothers in more than name?? Canonically Wilbur and Tommy aren’t siblings but they still SHARE that brotherly bond they still think of each other of family after everything. “You would kill for me and knew that I’d do the same” at the start? When they’re protecting their country together?? Yeah because they’re FAMILY they care about each other so much.

“And it cut me sharp, Hearing you'd gone away. But everything goes away, Yeah everything goes away”

Do I need to explain this one. I’m taking gone away as a reference to death here, like he’s up and left Tommy, and suddenly he’s just. Gone. Also the everything goes away is a great way to show the beginning of c! Tommys trauma, how he always feels like good things are going to be taken away from him. No matter what he has, his friends, his country, his discs, it’s all going to be gone eventually. Good things never seem to last for him.

“But I'm going to be here until I'm nothing but bones in the ground. And I was there, when you grew restless”

Wilbur talking about lmanberg as “here”. He knows he’s never going to leave it, the country he built. He lived there and that’s where he’ll die. The captain always goes down with his ship. The restless line reminds me of pogtopia, like Tommy watching as Wilbur started to lose it, started to grow more and more unstable. He was there for everything, the good and the bad even as he watched his brother descend into this downwards spiral and not being able to help him.

“Left in the dead of night. And I was there, when three months later. You were standing in the door all beat and tired and I stepped aside”

Now there’s two ways we could take this one. We could take a brief tour to sbi land and make this about Tommys exile, like he left exile at night after dream blew it all up, and he ended up at technos. And when Techno finally found him there it’s still that same kid he knew before who is just tired and needing someone, and so he lets him in. OR we could make this in reference to Wilburs revival. The three months later would be a reference to the time passed before Wilbur was revived. Now I could make this soft or I could make this angsty so I provide multiple options. 1. Tommy steps aside so Wilbur can see the sunrise, see the works that he’s missed and truly enjoy it again (not canon but shh) 2. I stepped aside but it’s Tommy moving away from Wilbur. Going no, you hurt me and I’m sorry that you’re suffering but I can’t be here for you anymore. 3. Or we got that nice metaphorical door of Tommys life and tommy seeing the brother he lost and choosing to let him “inside”, back into his life despite everything.

“We were opposites at birth I was steady as a hammer, No one worried cause they knew just where I'd be. And they said you were the crooked kind, And that you'd never have no worth But you were always gold to me”

Tommy is steady! Tommy wants the same things, he wants to protect his country, his friends and his discs. Everyone always knew what Tommy wanted and he was very open about what he cared about so everyone knew what was going on with him. Referring to Wilbur as the crooked one, the one who causes problems by creating a drug van, starting a war, blowing up his country. He had no worth because he thought so little of himself that he had to replace his personality with his actions. But tommy still sees him for who he is and up to Pogtopia that’s his big brother. That’s the man he would follow anywhere and trusts his whole world with. Wilbur was always special to tommy, even when he wasn’t to others.

“And back when we were kids, We swore we knew the future. And our words would take us half way 'round the world. But I never left this town and you never saw New York”

My main focus here is on the “but I never left this town” Wilbur always stayed in L’manberg, till the very end. He could never go anywhere else, and he didn’t. This also relates back to another song on my crimeboys list, two birds by Regina Spektor. Wilbur is never going to let go of L’manberg. It’s a part of who he is and he’s never going to be able to “leave” it. The you never saw New York line could be tommy because who knows Tommys plans before l’manberg. Then he got so wrapped up in this country he built that it became his everything, and he never got a chance to do anything else because of the effect it had on him. (I know this is stretching canon bear with me I like angst)

“And we ain't ever cross the sea. But I am fine with where I am now, This home is home, and all that I need. But for you, this place is shame. But you can blame me when there's no one left to blame. Oh I don't mind”

So many thoughts I don’t even know if I can make this coherent. For you this place is shame for Wilbur ESPECIALLY. It’s a reminder of the explosion he created, the hurt he caused the people who’s lives he ruined. He wants it to stand for all it was before, but he has to think about how it’s a source of hurt for so many people and how he sees that as his fault. I don’t think I can form coherent thoughts on the rest of this, enjoy

“All my life i’ve never known where you've been. There were holes in you, The kind that I could not mend. And I heard you say Right when you left that day, Does everything go away? Yeah, everything goes away. But I'm going to be here till forever, So just call when you're around.”

Final paragraph folks!! Ive never known where you’ve been! Tommy can never get a read on Wilbur and his emotions because he internalizes and hides them! He’s never going to be able to know and understand because Wilbur won’t let him! Holes in you the kind that I could not mend? YES. Wilbur is mentally ill and tommy cannot fix that, and he shouldn’t have to be the one responsible for helping Wilbur. Right when you left that day, the 16th, the day he left for the last time. Another reminder to tommy that everything leaves, nothing is guaranteed. L’manberg is gone and so is Wilbur. If we look at this pre revival, I’m gonna be here til forever could be Wilbur at L’manberg. He died there, and that’s where he’s always going to stay. He might be gone, and L’manberg might be gone but they’ll still always be there in spirit (get it spirit. Ghost. Ghostbur building L’manberg? Anyways...)

Mhm that was longer than I meant it to be I am working on multiple more dsmp playlists and I will share once I’m done and maybe do some more of these cause I find them fun. I also did not edit this at all so sorry if this is incoherent

[jinkang]

Hello, everyone! I’m A, I’m 31, I go by they/them pronouns, and I live in CST. Please enjoy my son Jin, he’s a real estate agent, gallery owner, and artist who lives in Iron Hill. Feel free to reach out for any types of plots and threads! I look forward to writing with all of you!

— YOU CAN FIND JIN’S WANTED CONNECTIONS LIST HERE.

FULL NAME: Myeongjin Haneul Kang (born Haneul Kim)

NICKNAME(S): Jin

DOB: July 7, 1985; 9:47AM

PLACE OF BIRTH: Seoul, South Korea

ZODIAC: Cancer sun, Pisces Moon, Virgo Rising

AGE: 37

OCCUPATION: Real Estate Agent & Investor (Co-owner of Kang Real Estate Group), Owner of Graphite Fine Art Gallery and Artist.

NEIGHBORHOOD: Iron Hill. His main residence is his own personal wing at the Kang family estate, but he also has taken control of one of the guest houses as well that doubles as an art studio. He also has an apartment he uses as a hideaway located Downtown, close to Graphite.

ORIENTATION: Pansexual, panromantic.

GENDER: Cis-male, he/him.

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single. Divorced.

SIBLING(S): Miyeon (Miya) Kang, adopted sister (biological cousin). 

CHARACTER INSPIRATION: Stefan Salvatore (TVD), Rhysand (ACOTAR), Elijah Mikaelson (The Originals)

TRAITS: Compassionate, loyal, empathetic, noble, brooding, self-destructive, insecure, selfless, over-protective, intelligent, creative.

BACKGROUND:

TW PREGNANCY, MULTIPLE BG CHAR DEATHS Myeongjin Kang was born as Haneul Kim in Seoul, South Korea on July 7, 1985. His father passed not long after he was born, and his mother passed a few years later in a tragic accident, leaving the three year old in the care of his aunt. He was considered a blessing to his aunt, who was not only happy that she had a remnant of her dear sister with her, but she and her husband had failed in having children of their own thus far and desperately wanted to start a family of their own. And now they had Jin, who they renamed legally to Myeongjin Haneul Kang, when the adoption finally went through.

A year later after the adoption process was complete brought another surprise bundle of joy into the Kang household, with Jin's younger sister Miya being born. Jin was instantly enamored by his little sister, always doing his absolute best to be the best big brother he could, which only persisted over the years, even as they grew apart when they got older. He's always loved his sister, looking up to her and seeking her approval even if she's younger than him, only wanting to be close to her and for her to be happy. She never made it easy on him, however. They always had a tumultuous relationship, at best, though it certainly wasn't made easy for them by their parents consistently going out of their way to accommodate Jin, putting the siblings at odds.

Things shifted for Jin when he was 24, just finishing up his bachelor's at Yale, where he met his college girlfriend. Things were good, mildly serious, but Jin was young and wasn't necessarily focused on the future just yet, just wanting to have fun while he still could before he settled down. That all changed when the girlfriend informed him she was pregnant, and before he knew it he had a pregnant wife walking down the aisle, and then a sweet baby girl - Hana - welcomed into the Kang family. Despite the abrupt change, it was nice, and while it was a big adjustment to transition into married life and parenthood, Jin found that he loved it. He loved having a family of his own, the unconditional love of a child unlike anything he's ever felt before.

Unfortunately, things took a turn for the worst when Hana fell sick, and after an array of tests, was diagnosed with cancer. With Jin's father being a prolific doctor, he took charge of his granddaughter's treatment, doing everything in his power to make sure she was able to fight her way into remission. It was a long, hard battle, one that they fought for two years until, finally, the sweet little 4 year old passed. The loss absolutely devastated the family, not only for Jin and his wife, but the rest of his family as well. The loss put a strain on Jin and his wife's marriage, the next year incredibly rough as they both coped in their own way and grew apart, until finally they filed for divorce, which was finalized about a year later.

The loss of both his daughter and his wife left a hole in Jin's heart, one that he did his best to fill - mostly with work. He had considered going to law school once he'd graduated from Yale, having started the first semester, even, before his daughter was diagnosed. But he put it on hold when she fell ill, wanting to focus on her recovery. Afterwards, he decided to go into real estate with his mother, as well as focusing on his true passion - art. Growing up Jin had always held a deep love for art, something that his birth mother was passionate about as well, and he cherished the paintings that hung in his bedroom that had come from his birth mother's hand, something that always helped him feel close to his roots.

It's what caused him to want to open his own gallery, and to share his work with the world. He loves his work, both at the real estate firm that he runs with his mother, as well as at the gallery. He feels as though he's really found his calling. But there's still an emptiness he feels inside of his heart, something that aches within him that will always be there.

BIRTH CHART: 

[kirstinmaldonado]

Chapter Four 2.0

Is it just me or are the alarming numbers of posts about weight gain or weight loss in this time freaking everyone out? I know I’m not innocent; I’ve definitely joked about my personal quarantine-15 as well, blindingly attempting to hide my own insecurities with it through humor.

But if I see another “Carbie” or changed photo online insinuating weight gain, I might cry.

It’s hard enough trying to “make the most” of your time, even if you’re riddled with it. If you read my last post, you’d think by now I’d be the fit, Spanish-speaking, piano-playing, singer-songwriter that Week 1 Kwarantine Kirstie dreamed of. As we know, I’ve “fallen off.”

But have I? Is this really the age we’re in? Where in a global pandemic we still feel the urge to get a thousand things done in the mere 24 hours we get a day? 

That societal pressures are so prominent that we all joke together about how much weight we’ll gain? And where posts scream at you with side by side pictures of extreme weight loss, expecting you to not only have your life together but lose weight with all this “extra time?”

I digress. I can’t do it all and keep my mental health in check.

People are either finding new or returning to hobbies to distract themselves from what is going on right now, and that’s great. If yours is that home workout, I applaud you!! Keep at it! It’s so good for your mental and physical health, I know I need to be more on top of it! 

If it’s reading a little, spring cleaning, whatever it is that you are able to accomplish, I am proud of you! If you’ve been able to dig in and uncover a goal you’d not been able to achieve before, don’t let this or anything hold you back! I hope to get to that mindset and I feel I am on my way!

But in the meantime, I’ve been baking, and since there’s only two people in the house it’s, y’know, not ideal for the waistline.

But here’s my deal. I’m coping. When I went to the grocery store a few weeks ago and saw empty shelves, I cried and went to the baking aisle to get decorations and proper ingredients for the baking I was planning on doing. My hands have been stained with food color more often than not within just this last week, as I baked for friends’ birthdays in quarantine and for Easter.

And that’s okay! I am adapting.

You know why I stopped baking so much in the first place? I ran out of time. When I’d be home from tour I wanted to relax more than work all night in the kitchen. I wanted to spend quality time enjoying others’ company rather than cleaning pots and pans all night. But I’ve realized now more than ever that baking just brings me this sense of happiness, like I’m sure other things do for you guys.

There’s a rhythm to baking, how you mix it. You can’t rush the process, ‘cause the icing will melt if your treat hasn’t cooled. There’s a sense of calm patience I enjoy that is hard to replicate. And then the decorating taps in to my artistic side, and depending on how I’m feeling I’m either slathering that icing on freely or delicately decorating with pearl accents and made-from-chocolate flourish!

Baking brings me back to Nana’s and Grandma’s kitchens. My favorite thing was baking with them, rolling dough, watching them and learning! As I grew older, got my own place, that feeling of baking and care-taking made me happy. Baked goods always have a lot of love in them, I feel, and is this not a time to put a smile on peoples’ faces? Why not do what I love on Easter and bake a whole cake, a hobby that reminds me of my family that I miss so much and can’t be with?

I don’t want all this to sound like an explanation for my recent eating choices. You’re not my food journal. And even though I’ve dipped away from my goals and feel a little disappointment, I know I was cathartic baking and so accept the consequences of my actions. The point is to recognize and move forward.

I also don’t want this to be like every “how/why not to gain weight in quarantine” post, because I don’t know how to do that.

With all the stress on how this would progress, I don’t blame myself or anyone for freaking out when they saw empty shelves and grabbing the closest thing they could find that has a decent shelf-life (Kraft Mac n Cheese…). The real hurdle here, my point, is just making sure you’re being healthy to yourself.

If you want some red wine, go for it. If you want to treat yourself, okay! These things are all fine in doses as long as you don’t transform your habits from healthy to unhealthy.

I have binged before. I have purged before. I have had the most unhealthy views of my body before. I still battle with it. But within this last year I have gained so much knowledge about how my body operates. I have fed it cleaner food and seen how it’s transformed my mind, body, and spirit. I have worked SO hard and done two a days. It’s not always the easiest, but I spent quality time taking care of myself.

All that to say, my initial 2020 goals were to remain on track and healthy to myself. This is THE year, I thought.

Coronavirus put a…twist on my goals. I haven’t been fussing about the wine I’ve had, or the goodies I’ve made, as I focused more on my mental health. I am glad I let myself just be. It really helped. But it’s mid week five and we have five more weeks ahead of us at least. And as I started looking at myself in the mirror, or flipping through Instagram, I could feel my anxiety creep up again. So I made that dreaded trip to the scale and got out my measuring tape which I’d used before to track progress.

And you know what? I gained inches. I gained weight. 

Did it make me…kinda sad? Yes. I felt disappointed as if all my hard work last year was for naught.

But…I gained weight in a global pandemic.

In the big picture of things, how fortunate am I to have the resources to feed myself. To gain weight. 

All these ads, all the modified pictures which are ACTUALLY kinda fat-shaming, all this panic of gaining weight is so triggering while everyone is just trying to keep relatively afloat. It feels insensitive. I can’t flip through Instagram without seeing people capitalizing on the situation. “Lost 20lbs with this amazing home workout plan and tea” or diets to take care of the “stubborn fat you’ll have” when this ends. It’s toxic for those that battle with eating disorders or body dysmorphia. It’s toxic for those that are just able to get what they can. There’s enough stress already! We are staying inside and at home for a REASON. If you have the luxury to gain a few pounds while you’re safer at home, good for you. Don’t be so hard on yourself as you try to mitigate a PANDEMIC.

I am trying not to be. I am re-adjusting how I’m working out so it fits more in line with my aesthetic goals. We are almost done eating the carrot cake from Easter (yikes, I know, already, it was too good). 

All I hope for myself, and for you all, is that you don’t fall in to unhealthy ways, mentally or physically. It’s a battle, especially in this time, I know! I’ll be the first to say I haven’t been my best. Gaining some pounds isn’t unhealthy itself, but can manifest into bad habits in this isolation like binging or an overall sedentary, unmotivated lifestyle.

If you’re moving, you’re getting a little sun, and you are staying safe and healthy, you’re gonna be okay. Don’t let little personal fluctuations alarm you and derail who you are and what you’ve worked for. The world is fluctuating with you, so you are constantly having to adapt!

I’m going to make a better effort to not coop myself inside, be aware if I’m overdoing the emotionally eating, and feed my body in all the right ways. Mind. Body. Spirit. Besides that, it’s just taking one day at a time.

I hope you all are safe and healthy. I hope you all are still believing and trying your best. <3

[pickalilywrites]

hi everyone!!! here’s the eretra au that a few of you might remember from my wip posts a few months (?) ago! i’m really excited about it, so i hope you guys like it. it’s very loosely based off a kdrama called big, although there aren’t very many similarities. i hope you guys enjoy it :) 

-----------------------------

My First Love Come Back to Me

Eretra. Big AU. 

I’ll Love You in the Rain or Shine Series: Chapter 1

12788 words. 

Read on Ao3!

Eren stands in the deli section of the grocery store staring down at the premade sandwiches that have, judging by the wilting lettuce and stiff-looking squares of cheese stuffed between dry bread buns, been sitting there all day after being passed over by other customers for more enticing premade meals like the colorful, little sushis in their plastic containers or the burritos so stuffed with filling that beans are practically spilling out of the tortilla wraps meant to contain them. He looks at one particularly sad-looking sandwich. Turkey chunks and droopy lettuce leaves are shoved inside a stale bread loaf. Tomato juice from the poor fruit that was cut to make this depressing sub bleeds out from the bun, dripping onto the plastic wrap that can hardly hold the thing together. A strange assortment of veggies also poke out from the bread - bright yellow bell peppers, chunky strips of carrots, and slices of onions - but they look as though someone has carelessly dropped them into the sandwich because they’re not even evenly dispersed through the sub. It is, Eren thinks, the most wretched sandwich he’d ever laid eyes on. 

It’s a little sad, the fact that Eren is spending so much time picking out something to bring to a family dinner that he would claim, if anyone bothered to ask, to not give a single shit about. And, really, he doesn’t, but it makes him feel slightly better about going to those miserable gatherings if he’s able to bring something he knows his stepmom will hate. Except she’s not really his stepmom. To be more precise, the woman is his father’s first and only wife - the bastard having never married Eren’s mother - and his half-brother’s mother. In all honesty, Eren can completely understand why the woman hates him. He is, after all, a constant reminder of his father’s infidelity. It’s not like Eren likes her either and, with all of the snide comments about his upbringing and disappointing career path (although Eren has no idea why that is any of her business), she hasn’t given Eren any reason to. 

Eren looks down at the sandwich again, leaning towards not getting it. As much as he would love to purchase it and slap it down on the dinner table with a cheerful smile, there are only so many times he can buy disgusting sandwiches for his family dinners. He really outdid himself last time with a self-made sandwich with all sorts of odd ingredients (blue cheese, coriander, tuna, onions, cherry tomatoes, the works) that had no business being slapped between the same two buns. He even remembered not to toast the bread buns. Apparently, the only thing his father’s wife hates more than sandwiches are untoasted sandwiches, but not everyone can afford a $300 panini press like she can. Apparently, any panini press with a smaller price tag can’t be called a real panini press. Eren only half-regretted his decision to bring the disgusting thing to his father’s house an hour later when he sprinted out of the house and biked half a block away to empty the contents of his stomach on the edge of a poor neighbor's sidewalk. No, a normal deli sandwich would be a step down from his previous contribution to family dinner, Eren decides. 

He walks up and down the aisle of the grocery store, taking his time even though he’s already a half-hour late for dinner. (He’s doing them a favor. Nobody in their right mind should be having dinner at five when the sun is still high in the sky.) His green eyes glaze over tubs of soup and plastic bins filled with salad. For a moment, he wonders if he should walk through the shelves of chips on the other side or maybe into the frozen food section so he can haul a tub of melting ice cream to his father’s house, but he wonders if that’s too petty. It’s probably best not to, Eren thinks with a grimace. He doesn’t want to ruin junk food for himself forever. 

In the end, Eren purchases a little tub of potato salad, hoping that it’ll be enough to piss off his Disney-esque sort-of stepmother. It’s not perfect, but he supposes it will do. It’s probably not as grotesque as the stuff he’s brought before, but he likes how simple it is. That woman’s definitely going to be miffed that Eren bought potato salad as if he cared so little that he couldn’t be bothered to spend a few minutes in the kitchen to make the same dish. He’s really going to enjoy seeing the vein on her forehead pulse when she sees him standing at the door with the potato salad. 

Eren thanks the cashier for ringing up his purchase, sliding two dollars into the charity box next to the register, and walks away with his tub of potato salad, whistling as he practically skips out of the grocery store. He hadn’t taken as long as he would have liked; there are still fifteen minutes before six and he had hoped he would burn enough time to arrive at six-thirty, but maybe he can take a roundabout way to his dad’s house, Eren thinks as he drops the tub carelessly into the front basket of his bicycle. He unlocks his bike with a click and pulls it off the bike rack before mounting it and pedaling away. 

Taking the direct route would be too quick. Eren quickly pedals across the road as soon as the road is clear and finds his way to the creek that cuts across the suburbs. It’s the same creek Eren used to play beside when he was a child. He fell in there once trying to catch a frog and his mom scolded him for being so reckless. It’s also the same creek that he frequented during the spring of his sophomore year of highschool when he was assigned to do a bug project, which Eren hated especially when the same project was no longer mandatory after his school cut the science department’s funding the year after. Eren doesn’t think he’s visited the creek ever since he graduated from high school. He blames it on college and summer internships taking up all his time and never really allowing him to return to his youth, but the truth is that Eren wouldn’t have sought out his childhood even if he had the time. 

It’s not that Eren had a terrible childhood. In fact, Eren would say that he had a fairly happy childhood. True, he grew up in a (mostly) single-parent household, but his mother was always patient and attentive to him even though he was a pain the ass about 75 percent of the time. Nothing incredibly significant happened. He didn’t win any awards and he never made the honor roll, but his mother was fine with it as long as he did his best. It was strange, but he got a lot more shit about his grades from his sort-of stepmom than he did from his own mother. He’s not particularly sure what his father thought about it. Eren’s father never said much of anything to defend him, but his father hardly said anything to him at all. It was kind of like not having a father at all, so it wasn’t really that surprising when Eren found a way to avoid his old neighborhood completely after his mother passed away after his senior year of high school. 

Eren hadn’t planned on returning so soon. Actually, he hadn’t planned on returning at all after he had left for college. He only came back the summer after freshman year, but he bummed it at his best friend Armin’s house and only ventured as far as Armin’s front lawn. The following summers he crashed at his ex-boyfriend’s house - an art student-turned-tattoo artist who somehow ended up setting up a shop in the city Eren and Armin grew up in - or Armin’s dorm when they were both working at their internships. Somehow, they ended up landing jobs back in their hometown because evidently the big city did not want them and they were too young and broke to go up against the universe. Maybe another day. 

It’s not that bad. Despite renting an apartment near his neighborhood, Eren hasn’t run into any childhood friends that might still remember all the embarrassing things he did as a teenager. He’s bumped into a few parents at the grocery store that would smile up at him and talk about how nicely he’s grown while reaching up to ruffle his hair. Other than a few childhood friends and the “family” he feels obligated to meet due to the biological bond he unwillingly shares with his father, Eren has successfully avoided most of his past. 

He pedals past his old middle school, zooming past the gates and grimacing as he remembers the less pleasant parts of his past - struggling with algebra, running a mile at seven AM, and the terrible school uniforms they forced on everyone in a strange attempt to boost standardized test scores. He’s happier when he crosses the street and is greeted with the lit-up shops - the convenience store where he’d happily slurp down slushies with Armin after school, the Chinese restaurant that his class would frequent every year for Lunar New Year’s, and the bakery store that always smelled of freshly baked tarts and pies. Eren’s pedaling slows as he approaches the bakery and he inhales deeply, his lungs filling with the scent of buttery baguettes and chocolate tarts. The aroma is so distractingly sweet. His mouth begins to water at just the thought of them, and Eren wonders why he hadn’t bothered stepping foot in the bakery since coming back. He’s about to stop his bike and pop in for a brownie or a lemon bar only to realize that he’s biking far too fast and about to crash into someone. 

“Shit!” Eren’s bike screeches as he swerves out of the way and he crashes into a pole so hard that he can feel his teeth rattle. He topples to the ground with a hard thud, groaning as he rolls over onto his side that didn’t get smashed violently against a pole. When he opens his eyes, he sees stars as well as the face of an old man that he had last seen a decade ago. Eren tries to sit up, but his side is throbbing and he can only clutch at his side, trying his best to suppress a groan so as to not startle the man he had nearly collided with. He gives the man a weak smile. “Hey, Mr. Ral. I haven’t seen you in a while.” 

The old man’s mouth, which was already open to begin with after seeing Eren’s embarrassing bicycle collision, falls open a bit wider. “A-are you … okay?” he asks after a while, squinting a bit as he looks at Eren’s face and tries to place a name to it. Eren doesn’t really blame him for not remembering who he is. It’s been quite a while since they’ve seen each other and Eren has grown up a lot since then.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little bump,” Eren says, laughing it off. He manages to sit up and pushes himself off the ground, standing up and brushing off the little pebbles that have managed to stick to his face and clothing. He picks up his bike, leaning it against the pole before turning to the man again. “It’s Eren, by the way.” He pauses, observing Mr. Ral’s expression. When he sees that the man doesn’t recognize him, Eren politely adds, “Eren Kruger. I’m Zeke Jaeger’s younger brother.” 

A spark of recognition finally lights up in the old man’s eyes at the mention of Zeke’s name. Eren’s not going to lie, but it kind of hurts. “Ah, Zeke,” Mr. Ral says fondly. Eren shifts from feeling hurt to feeling slightly jealous. “How could I ever forget him? And you, of course. You two used to play with my dear Petra back in the day.” 

Petra, a name that Eren hasn’t heard in years, and yet hearing it still makes him blush like a young schoolboy. He ducks his head, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck, and he prays that Mr. Ral doesn’t notice the sudden flush of his cheeks. “Yeah, it’s been a while. How is, ah, Petra doing?” he asks. He had meant to ask the question casually, but he stumbles over the words a little too quickly. 

“Petra? She’s well,” Mr. Ral answers with a smile. The corners of his eyes crinkle and his laughter lines deepen. He doesn’t seem to notice how flustered Eren is. “She just started teaching at the same university that Zeke is teaching at.” 

That’s certainly news to Eren. Zeke hadn’t mentioned that at any of the family dinners Eren had attended recently. It could just be because Zeke hadn’t run into her yet or it had simply slipped his mind, but Eren kind of doubts it. If Petra’s father knew, then it’s highly unlikely that Zeke didn’t know. As much as Eren wants to frown, he fights the urge to turn the edges of his mouth downward and gives Mr. Ral a thin but polite smile. “That’s great to hear. What does she teach?” 

“English,” Mr. Ral replies, his chest puffed out proudly. It’s endearing how much he adores his daughter. “She teaches some upper-division classes on creative writing and a few classes for freshmen on critical reading and writing.” 

Eren’s smile is more genuine now, more fond as he listens to Mr. Ral speak about his daughter. “Yeah, that sounds like her. She was always really good with words.” He remembers lazy summer afternoons lying underneath the shade of a tree and pretending he was sleeping so that he could listen to Petra talk to Zeke on the front porch. It wasn’t even that he wanted to eavesdrop. He just liked the sound of her voice. Eren wonders if it’s still as wonderfully soothing and soft as he remembers. 

“And what about you?” Mr. Ral asks, snapping Eren out of his reverie. The old man seems to ask out of polite obligation. It figures that he isn’t really interested in Eren’s life. After all, he hadn’t remembered that Eren existed until five minutes ago. 

“I just graduated a few months ago. I majored in child education,” Eren replies. He looks down feeling slightly embarrassed although he’s not sure why. It feels like a step down from Petra’s accomplishments. His sort-of stepmom would certainly agree. She enjoys rubbing Zeke’s doctorate in Eren’s face whenever she gets the chance. Eren clears his throat and adds, “I’ve been working at Liberio Daycare. It’s near Shiganshina Elementary.” 

It’s unclear whether or not Mr. Ral recognizes the name but he nods and reaches over to give Eren a pat on the arm, a grin on his face as if the old man is actually proud of him. “That’s good! Your parents must be proud.” He doesn’t notice the way Eren flinches and carries on. “It’s good to hear that you’ve been well.” 

“Likewise,” Eren says. His eyes wander towards the bakery. It hadn’t occurred to him to look for Petra before, but now that he knows she’s back in town he can’t imagine doing anything else. He half hopes that she’ll be inside, maybe clearing the display for the night or wiping down the countertops, but all he sees is a girl his age at the register munching on some lavender bars that hadn’t sold. Before he can stop himself, Eren finds himself asking, “Is Petra in?” 

“Petra?” Mr. Ral asks with his eyebrows raised. Maybe it does seem out of the blue that Eren’s asking. Petra was always more Zeke’s friend than Eren’s. Mr. Ral gives Eren an apologetic smile and a shake of his head. “I’m afraid not. She told me she was eating dinner at a friend’s house. I’ll let her know you stopped by. Maybe you two can catch up sometime.” 

Eren shouldn’t feel so disappointed, but he can feel himself deflating at Mr. Ral’s words. He really doubts Petra would want to meet up with him. It’s not as if they were incredibly close before. Still, he gives Mr. Ral a gracious smile and says, “That would be great! I should probably get going. I have to, ah, eat dinner…” His voice trails off and he looks to bike only to find the front basket empty. Eyes straying further, he finds that his tub of potato salad had rolled out of his bike basket and onto the ground where it lay pitifully. Thankfully, the tub hasn’t broken and the potato salad hasn’t spilled out, but somehow the salad looks even more pathetic than it did when Eren purchased it. It’s something Eren would have been happy about fifteen minutes ago, but it’s embarrassing now. Quickly, he goes to pick it up and drop it into his bike basket with the slim hope that Mr. Ral wouldn’t think much about it, but Eren has never been that lucky. 

Mr. Ral must find him pitiful because he asks, “Why don’t you take some dessert home?” He’s already heading back into the bakery, gesturing for Eren to follow him despite Eren’s protests. “If you don’t, they’ll just go to waste. Or into my employee’s stomach, and goodness knows that she’s already eaten enough desserts today already.” 

“Thank you so much, sir,” Eren says, humbly bowing his head. 

“Sasha,” Mr. Ral calls the girl at the register. “Could you ring up a few things for Eren?” 

The girl’s head snaps up at the call of her name, her cheeks filled with pastry and crumbs all over her mouth. “Sure thing,” Sasha says, gulping down the last of her lavender bar and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She walks over to the side, Eren following her on the other side of the counter, and washes her hands hastily. As she wipes her hands dry with the hand towel, she looks at Eren brightly and asks in a chipper voice, “Do you have anything you want in particular?” 

Eren’s eyes scan over the display, but he doesn’t really look at anything in particular. He just wants to get out of this situation as quickly as possible. He’s embarrassed himself quite enough for today. “Just … whatever you’d recommend,” 

“Alright-y,” the girl hums, taking a bag and stuffing it full with little tarts and tea cakes and croissants. Eren looks at her briefly, realizing that he doesn’t recognize her. She must have moved here sometime during the past six years when he wasn’t around. 

As Sasha finishes preparing the bag, Eren walks over to the register and gets ready to pull his wallet out but Mr. Ral walks over, shaking his head. “No need to pay for it,” Mr. Ral says. He reaches over the counter and takes the bag from Sasha, presenting it to Eren with a smile. “Consider it a treat. Really, you’d be doing me a favor just taking it. They would have gone to waste otherwise.” 

“Ah, thank you,” Eren says, his face flushing once more. He takes the bag from Mr. Ral with a small bow of his head. “It was great seeing you again, Mr. Ral.” 

“Likewise,” Mr. Ral says with that same crinkly smile. He walks Eren to the door, watching as Eren packs the desserts alongside his potato salad. “Take good care of yourself, Eren, and tell your brother I said hi.” He waves as Eren assures him he’ll do just that, returning to the shop only once Eren has biked away. 

This is not how the night was supposed to go. Eren was supposed to be wandering around the neighborhood with his potato salad before waltzing into his father’s house an hour late, his sort-of stepmother silently fuming at the dinner table while the family sat and waited for him. He hadn’t planned on bumping into his childhood crush’s father, and he certainly hadn’t planned on looking so incredibly pathetic in front of Mr. Ral. He can only imagine what Mr. Ral will tell Petra when she sees her dad tonight. Maybe something about how he grew up to be such a loser even though his half-brother managed to graduate with a Ph.D. and is now a successful anthropology professor at the local university. It’s not something that usually gets Eren down, but thinking about it now is making him feel especially miserable. 

Eren’s not sure why the thought of Petra knowing how his life is so embarrassing. He hasn’t spoken to her in years, so her opinion of him shouldn’t matter. And even if she did have an opinion of him, he’s sure it wouldn’t be unkind. Petra had always been nice to him even when he was a kid and just being an annoying third wheel to her and Zeke. When his childish admiration of her turned into puppy love and eventually evolved into a full-fledged crush, she never brushed him off or thought him annoying, although there was a chance that she just never noticed. He couldn’t blame her for that when Zeke, honor roll student and valedictorian Zeke, was always standing right in front of her. He wasn’t even surprised when they started dating. It was inevitable. And when they eventually broke up for some reason that Eren still isn’t quite sure about, Eren knew he’d never be able to compare so he never tried to pursue her. It’s not surprising that he and Petra ended up losing touch. 

As much as he would love to blame Zeke for it (and it would be incredibly easy for him to blame Zeke), he can’t. Maybe it’s strange that he doesn’t harbor a deep hatred for his half-brother. Their relationship has all the makings of a classic sibling rivalry - a complicated family history, stark differences in accomplishments, and affections for the same girl - but Eren could never bring himself to hate Zeke. Even if Zeke’s mother liked to hold all of her son’s accomplishments over Eren’s head, Zeke himself never bragged about them. In fact, he was quite humble and would even offer to help his younger half-brother if he was struggling with something in school. Oftentimes he would invite Eren to hang out with his friends even though their age gap made it a little awkward. He even remembered Eren’s favorite snacks and would make sure they were in supply whenever Eren came over to visit. If Zeke’s mother was an evil Disney stepmother come to life, Zeke was that one fairytale sibling that was kind to the tragic main character, so Eren had no choice but to like Zeke. Even when Zeke broke up with Petra and Eren couldn’t understand why, when Zeke told Eren that it “just happened,” Eren kind of left it at that and accepted that because he couldn’t imagine Zeke doing anything wrong. 

Could Eren be classified with an inferiority complex with regards to his brother? Probably, but most siblings can. Eren would have to challenge whether or not someone with inferiority complexes would admire their brother as much as he does, but they might in a weird way. Eren’s sure that he and Zeke’s relationship would still be complicated even if they didn’t have all the weird history with Eren and Zeke’s parents. 

Eren sighs as he flies down a dip in the road, letting gravity carry him down instead of pedaling. He really doesn’t feel like he’s in the right headspace for this family dinner. Usually, he lets all of that woman’s snide comments ricochet, but his armor has grown weak and he can just imagine her landing the right thinly-veiled insult, her words burying into his skin and hitting right where it hurts. For a moment, Eren considers calling the dinner off with an excuse that will be sure to piss his stepmother off — probably something about how he has to restructure his lesson plan for the upcoming week — but he glances down at the potato salad and bag of baked goods in his bike basket and realizes that he really doesn’t want to eat them all by himself. If he’s going to suffer, he might as well make the rest of his family suffer alongside him. And besides, he’s pretty much already at their house anyway. 

His bike slows as he approaches the white-picket fenced house. He takes the potato salad tub and the bag of baked goods before leaving his bike on the driveway, not bothering to chain it to the fence because nobody would want to steal the old thing he bought from a garage sale anyway. The sight of it lying in front of the house instead of properly locked up will be sure to piss off that woman too, which is just an added bonus. With a sigh, Eren marches up the front steps, shifting the food all on one arm so he can ring the doorbell. The familiar chime rings out, muted from behind the wooden door. A muffled voice mumbles something Eren can’t hear, but he already knows that the speaker has nothing good to say about him. 

The door is thrown open and Eren looks down to see his stepmother glowering up at him, blue eyes a raging storm. “You’re late,” she hisses. She doesn’t even give him a greeting; she just stands there in front of him silently fuming. Behind her stands Eren’s father. As expected, he says nothing to defend his son’s tardiness. The man just stands there, uncomfortable as he quietly observes. 

“Sorry, Dina,” Eren says, squeezing past his stepmother who makes an indignant noise. He dangles the food he brought in front of her face, rolling his eyes when she snatches the bag from him only to wrinkle her nose in disgust when she sees the potato salad. “I brought dessert, too. Do you want me to put it somewhere …?” 

Dina snatches the bag of desserts from him too, still huffing. “We have a guest tonight too. Do you know how rude you’re being?” she says, continuing to nag at him even though Eren has stopped listening to her years ago. 

Eren’s father gently grabs Eren by the elbow, subtly ushering him inside to avoid any more conflict but Eren yanks his arm away. 

“Well, maybe if you told me we were having a guest beforehand I would have showed up on time,” Eren snaps. He sounds angry as he says it, but he really does mean it. It’s one thing to be rude to his stepmother, but it’s another thing entirely to be rude to a guest he doesn’t know. He’d at least wait for introductions before deciding whether or not to show any manners. 

Before his stepmother can say anything more, Eren stomps off into the dining room where Zeke and the guest are waiting. He keeps his head down, cheeks burning, as he pulls out his chair - the one furthest from everyone - and slumps down into it. “Sorry, I’m late,” Eren mumbles, still looking down. 

“Eren,” says a deep voice that Eren recognizes as Zeke’s. Hearing the voice of someone other than his stepmother’s makes Eren relax a bit and he rests with his back against his chair, a little more at ease now. He can hear Zeke’s small smile as his half-brother asks, “Aren’t you going to say hi to our guest?” 

“Uh, yeah. Hi,” Eren says. His eyes flicker upward, first at Zeke who sits across from him, and then at the guest. He looks so quickly at first that he doesn’t register exactly who he’s seeing until he does a double-take, his green eyes widening as they take in the woman sitting there. It’s someone he hadn’t expected to see ever again, much less sitting at his family’s dining table, and he’s so surprised that he almost chokes. For a moment, he thinks it might just be a doppelganger, but there’s no mistaking the soft dimples that appear in her cheeks as her lips curl in a smile. “...Petra?” 

“Hi, Eren.” Petra’s voice is still as gentle and soothing as Eren remembers, the sound of it so honey-sweet that he feels his cheeks bloom a soft pink. There’s so much about her that’s different, but there’s so much more that’s the same. Her hair is shorter now, no longer falling right at her shoulder, but curling right under her chin in a short bob. It’s the same shade of ginger it was when he was a kid. If it’s under the right light, it would probably burn a fiery gold. Her doe eyes are the same pretty amber, sweet and dangerously entrancing at the same time. She’s even dressed differently, her button-up blouse and slick gray trousers such a departure from the casual jeans and t-shirts she wore ten years ago when Eren was still in high school. Eren feels horribly underdressed - his ratty university sweatshirt over a thin cotton tee and his ripped jeans are so shabby in comparison - but a glimmer of silver on Petra’s wrist attracts Eren’s attention to the charm bracelet she wears, jangling with charms that Eren remembers her collecting in her high school days, and he feels a little less like he’s meeting a stranger and more like he’s reuniting with an old friend. 

“How are you?” Eren asks shyly, his smile bashful. 

“I’m well,” she answers, and Eren feels himself melting into her voice the same way he did when he was thirteen. When she smiles, her head tilts ever so slightly to the right just the way it did when he first met her and her dimples deepen into her cheeks. “How are you?” 

“Good,” Eren answers because he doesn’t trust himself to string together more than a word or two at a time. He wonders if she realizes how he’s unraveling at the sound of her voice or if she’s as oblivious as she was the last time. 

“I’m glad,” Petra says, and the warm look Petra gives Eren reignites a flame in the pit of his belly that he had thought he extinguished long ago. Her head tilts a little bit more to the side, her eyes twinkling. “I missed you,” Petra tells him, and Eren finds himself in love once more. 

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

There are rules to dealing with your ex-boyfriend after you’ve broken up, Petra knows, but it’s been ten years and she figures that these rules can be bent. So what if the last time she saw Zeke she was broken-hearted, crying in the rain as he turned his back on her? She was younger then, her feelings out of control for someone who didn’t care for her nearly as much as she cared for him. And, sure, maybe it’s terrible that she never received the closure that she deserves, but she can’t hold a grudge against him forever. They work in the same university and cowering behind the nearest trashcan every time they meet doesn’t seem to be a viable option. Petra’s older now and so is Zeke. They’re mature. They can be friends like adults are after they’ve broken up, so the universe should be able to understand her accepting Zeke’s dinner request that evening even if her friends couldn’t. 

She only started to regret her decision when Zeke offered to drive her there after his classes ended - saving gas and the planet, he explained - and she agreed. Although Petra repeatedly told herself that it was a simple family dinner and that such an invitation was extended to Zeke’s other friends on occasion, she found herself sitting impatiently in her office, biting her nails down so close to the quick that her fingers started to bleed. Having to bandage her fingers as she waited did absolutely nothing to soothe her nerves. 

“I don’t see why you’re so nervous,” Levi tells her over the phone. He taught in the mathematics department, but they had met after Petra had nervously stumbled into the wrong building and into his office on her first day at the university. The man has a perpetual scowl on his face, and that very same expression had nearly sent Petra running until she weakly explained that she must have gotten lost and he kindly redirected her to the building her office was located in. She thought that was going to be the end of their interaction until he emailed her shortly after asking if she had gotten to her office alright. Finding him a kindred spirit, he had become her first (and sadly only) companion at the university aside from Zeke. “If you’re friends with him, it shouldn’t be that big of a deal.” 

“Well, it’s just that I haven’t really seen him since we, you know, broke up,” Petra explains, but she doubts that Levi understands. She had told him her history with Zeke a few weeks ago after he asked her why she was so jittery at the faculty luncheon, but he didn’t have much of a reaction. It was sort of nice having someone to talk to that wasn’t as hyperbolically reactive as the rest of her friends, but it was also painfully difficult when Levi didn’t show her any sympathy. 

“You saw him last week when you were at the library to look for reference books,” he reminds her as if it were the same thing. “I don’t know why this dinner has you in a panic. You left me nearly a hundred messages while I was teaching class.” He hadn’t even replied to her texts, the bastard. He had simply left her on read until midnight before sending her a thumbs-up emoji to let her know that he had read her messages, which was not exactly the response Petra was waiting for. 

“This is different!” Petra insists, but she knows Levi will never see it that way. 

“You’re making this a much bigger deal than it needs to be,” Levi says. She can hear him scribbling something on the other end, probably correcting exams for his differential equations classes and marking a poor student’s paper in an abundance of red. “Either cancel or just go to dinner with him. You’ve had family dinners with him even before you guys got together right?” 

“Yeah, but that was back when we were kids,” Petra mumbles, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. 

“Then you’ll be fine,” he tells her. 

“You’re horribly unsympathetic sometimes,” she sighs. 

“If you wanted sympathy, you shouldn’t have called me,” Levi says with a cluck of his tongue, but he chuckles when he hears her groan on the other end. “Really, it’ll be fine. You’re just overthinking it. I’m sure it’ll be fine. And you said the kid will be there, right? His brother, so it’s not as if you’ll be alone with Zeke and his parents.” 

Petra lays with her head on her desk, her phone pressed against her cheek. “Yeah, you’re right,” she mumbles, but her lower lip still sticks out in a pout. The thought of Eren being there, sweet little Eren with his eager puppy eyes and wide smile, does make her feel better if only a little. She probably hasn’t seen him since she broke up with Zeke. She wonders if he’s changed very much. He’d be in college now? Or maybe he graduated. “I haven’t seen him in awhile though. What if he hates me now?” 

“You’re overthinking again,” Levi says. He sighs on the other end. If Petra didn’t know him very well, she would think she was bothering him, but he’s always like this. “Are you going to be okay?” 

“Yes. No. Maybe,” Petra sniffs. She looks sadly at her bandaged fingers and picks at the ends of one of them. “Should I just cancel? Maybe I can tell him I fell down the stairs and had to go to the hospital or something -” Someone knocks at the door and Petra lets out a startled yelp, nearly falling out of her chair because she’s so surprised. When she looks at the door, she sees Zeke’s silhouette against the frosted glass pane. The sight of it makes her want to hide behind her desk. “God, he’s here already!” 

“Too late for you to run then,” Levi says, not even bothering to hide his snickering. He’s such a sadist that Petra doesn’t even know why she’s friends with him sometimes. “Have fun at your absolutely normal dinner with your friend and his family.” Click!

“Asshole,” Petra mutters under her breath before shoving her phone in her bag. There’s another knock at the door — the same long, slow knocks that are a signature of Zeke’s —  and she hastily shouts, “I’ll be right there!” before shoving her papers in her bag and stumbling out of the door, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process. She must look like a mess because Zeke raises an eyebrow at her when she emerges from her office. Petra catches a glimpse of her reflection in the window and winces at her frumpled shirt and the hair falling out of her bun. She mumbles an apology as she pulls the hair ties out of her bun, her hair falling in loose curls around her face. 

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Zeke asks. 

“No! God, no,” Petra says, inwardly cringing at every word that comes out of her mouth. Even she can tell how awkward her responses sound, a little too quick and desperate. What is she being so anxious for? It’s just dinner with a friend —  an ex-boyfriend, but a friend nonetheless. Petra clears her throat and asks as casually as she can manage, “How are your parents?” 

“Hmm? They’re well, I suppose,” he answers. Everything about him is familiar. He’s grown just a bit taller since Petra last saw him, his shoulders a bit broader and his jawline a bit sharper, but he still wears the same double-bridge glasses and the right corner of his mouth still quirks upward just the slightest bit when he speaks. He even walks the same way, his strides a little too long and quick, and Petra finds that she still has to struggle a bit to keep up. If Zeke notices the same thing about her - how she still wears the same shade of lipstick, how she still has that habit of wrapping her hair around her finger when she’s nervous like she’s doing now, how she bites her lip when she’s not sure what to say next - he doesn’t mention it. “My father’s still working at the hospital with my grandfather. He’s been promoted to director of the orthopedics department.” 

“Oh, congrats!” 

“And you know my mother has been at the hospital now that she doesn’t have to worry about me anymore,” Zeke says. It’s strange how casually he says this, as if he doesn’t remember that the last time he spoke about his mother to Petra was when they were still together. “She really missed being in the OR. Says she’d rather be doing surgeries all day than taking care of me.” 

“It’s nice that she can go back to it.” She nearly stumbles over a step but catches the railing before she can. When she looks up again, Zeke is already on the sidewalk and she hurries after him, a little breathless. “And Eren?” 

“Eren?” Zeke seems a little surprised by the question although Petra doesn’t know why. He leads her to a car - a slick Mercedes with a shining blue exterior and tinted windows that don’t quite match Zeke’s academic profession —  and opens the car doors with a click. 

“Your brother,” she clarifies as Zeke walks over to the driver’s side and slips into the car. She opens the passenger car and slides into the seat beside Zeke, setting her bag down next to her feet. The door swings shut behind her. “He’s coming to the dinner too, right?” 

Zeke turns on the engine and the car comes to life with a pleasant hum. “Most likely,” Zeke says as he checks the side and rearview mirrors before pulling out of the parking space. He even drives the same way, his arm resting on the side with his hand tapping against the door while one hand is on the wheel. Just watching him makes Petra’s chest feel tight. 

“Ah, that’s good. I haven’t seen him in so long,” Petra says. For some reason, knowing that Eren will also be there makes her feel a little more relaxed about the dinner. “Is he still in college? I think he should have graduated by now.” 

“He graduated a little while ago. He’s teaching now. Still on probation, but he says his colleagues like him so he’s not too worried about getting tenure after the probationary period is over.” He slows the car to a stop at an intersection and leans over, fiddling with the radio dial. He sets it to the jazz station and the sound of smooth brass and relaxed percussion fills the car. 

Somehow, driving down the streets with Zeke is far more nostalgic than it ever was when Petra drove on her own. Some nights Petra drove home by herself, and all it ever felt was lonely. Maybe it’s the familiarity of having Zeke beside her like when they were teenagers, driving back home after watching a movie downtown or returning from a basketball game at their high school. 

Petra doesn’t ask any more questions about Zeke’s family. She figures she can catch up with the rest of the Jaegers when she sees them at dinner. Instead, she asks Zeke about his classes and finds that conversation with him comes more easily after she stops stumbling over her words. He tells her a little bit about teaching anthropology (“Far less painful than you think it would be, at least when the kids aren’t just taking it to fulfill their core classes,” he says), his plans for the upcoming week (“It’s midterms, but the students should be fine if they actually look at the study guide.”), and the butterfly exhibit opening up at the museum downtown (“I’m thinking of putting it up as extra credit. Who knows, they might actually look at the other exhibits while they’re wandering around.”). Petra also fills him in on her own life, mumbling about how she still has to make the answer key to her own midterm and expressing interest in the butterfly exhibit Zeke mentions. 

They pull up next to Zeke’s house, the very same one he grew up with. Not much has changed from the outside. The white picket fence is a little worn and the rose bushes have been replaced with peonies. The house is still the same shade of cream, but Petra is sure that the Jaegers had it repainted over the summer like they usually do. She looks up at the second-story window where Zeke’s room should be and vaguely wonders if it’s still his room or if he’s moved out and hasn’t mentioned it yet. 

Walking up the brick steps to the door is a bit surreal. Petra doesn’t realize just how silent she’s been until the chime of the doorbell startles her and Mrs. Jaeger opens the door. As with most of Zeke’s family members, Petra hasn’t seen Mrs. Jaeger since she broke up with Zeke, but she had an amicable relationship with her. She can’t recall Mrs. Jaeger ever being angry, so she’s surprised when Zeke’s mother opens the door with a terrible scowl on her face. 

“Mom, you remember Petra,” Zeke says, moving aside so that Petra can enter first. 

The scowl quickly slips from Mrs. Jaeger’s face, replaced with a smile that Petra is more familiar with. “Petra, of course! I haven’t seen you in ages,” Mrs. Jaeger says, her voice strained. She waves Petra and Zeke in, shutting the door gently behind them. “It’s nice to see you again.” 

“Likewise,” Petra mumbles. She looks at the kitchen doorway where Zeke’s father leans and gives him an awkward wave. The man, just as silent as he was when Petra was young, gives her a polite smile and a nod in acknowledgment. 

“Sorry, we’re a bit late,” Zeke apologizes as he shrugs off his coat. He walks over to the dining room, Petra and his mother trailing behind him. “A student wanted to talk to me and it took a bit longer than I thought it would.” 

“No need to apologize! Eren hasn’t arrived yet anyway. He’ll probably be late. Again.” There’s a harsh tone in Mrs. Jaeger’s voice that Petra hasn't heard before. When she looks up, she sees Zeke’s mother hovering around the table and arranging dishes, the same polite smile on her face as she does so. “Your brother, of course, didn’t bother to send a text to notify us that he’d be late.” 

Petra wonders if Mrs. Jaeger usually speaks about Eren with such disappointment in her voice. Maybe she had always spoken about Eren like this and Petra had never been around to witness it or maybe it’s something that developed while Petra was away. Whatever it is, Zeke and his father seem used to it. Zeke merely shrugs, pulling out his phone to flip through his phone while his mother continues to mutter about how disrespectful her stepson is. Mr. Jaeger continues to stand at the doorway, not bothering to join them at the dining table, his eyes fixed on the carpet. He doesn’t bother to defend his son. 

“Maybe he’s busy,” Petra says, interrupting Mrs. Jaeger mid-rant. She feels rude for speaking while Mrs. Jaeger is talking, but sitting in silence while Zeke’s mother speaks ill of Eren doesn’t feel right either. All eyes are on her now - Mrs. Jaeger a little surprised, Zeke with an eyebrow quirked upward as if in amusement, and his father with a look that’s almost relieved. Petra clears her throat and continues. “He’s a teacher, right? It must be difficult teaching so many children every day — making the lesson plan and everything. Maybe texting slipped his mind. He’ll probably be here soon.” 

God, she hopes Eren will be here soon. Her cheeks are starting to burn bright red and she’s thinking that perhaps speaking up might not have been the best decision. 

“Ah, you’re probably right.” Mrs. Jaeger seems a little more composed now, perhaps remembering that they have company over. She settles down in the chair across from Zeke and flashes a pleasant smile at Petra. “He can be quite forgetful of these things. Of course, you’d never worry your father like this. You’ve always been so responsible.” 

Has talking with Zeke’s mother always been this difficult? Petra’s head is starting to spin, unsure of what response would be appropriate. She feels as if she should defend Eren, but she doesn’t want to make things awkward either. In the end, she smiles awkwardly at Mrs. Jaeger as if accepting the woman’s compliment and reaches out for the glass of water in front of her, raising it to her lips before she can say anything else that she might regret. 

“Dear, come sit next to me,” Mrs. Jaeger calls. She gestures for her husband to join them at the table and Mr. Jaeger stiffly walks over from the doorway before taking a seat at the head of the table. Mrs. Jaeger folds her hands on the table, her gaze still on Petra. “How have you been, Petra? We haven’t heard from you in a while. How long have you been back?” 

The series of questions leave Petra tongue-tied and unsure of how to answer. It’s so strange how casual the Jaegers can be about asking after her, like she hadn’t been such a large part of their lives — or at least Zeke’s life — ten years ago before disappearing completely. As if they didn’t know the real reason she hadn’t kept in touch. She’s not sure if she’ll ever be able to act as oblivious as them. 

“Er, I’ve been back for a while now,” she replies. She bites her lip when she sees the look of surprise on Mrs. Jaeger’s face. When she glances over at Zeke, he doesn’t look back at her. He’s returned his gaze to his phone screen, ignoring her. Nervously, she laughs. “I guess Zeke didn’t tell you, but I’m teaching at the same university he is. A few undergraduate English classes and then a graduate course on nature and romantic poetry.” Petra doesn’t know why she feels a lump at the back of her throat or the sting of tears at the corner of her eyes. She nibbles at her lip again, looking down at her lap so that she doesn’t have to look at Zeke or his family. She doesn’t have a reason to feel hurt or upset. Maybe Zeke was busy and didn’t have the chance to mention it to his parents or maybe it just slipped his mind. It isn’t a big deal. 

“Oh, that must be nice!  Who knew you two would be working together after all these years?” Mrs. Jaeger says. She subtly pushes the cheese plate on the table towards Petra, gesturing for her to take one. 

“Mmm,” Petra says, nodding as if she agrees with Mrs. Jaeger. It’s not as if she’s wrong. Petra certainly didn’t know any of this would happen. She knew some of it would — getting her degree, teaching at a university, eating dinner with Zeke’s parents — she just hadn’t predicted other things like Zeke breaking up with her, not speaking with him for ten years after knowing him her entire life, or having to pretend that she’s okay. 

Petra reaches for a cracker and a spread of raspberry goat cheese and shoves the entire thing in her mouth, hoping that she won’t have to answer any more questions. 

“The university is nice,” Zeke’s father murmurs. It’s the first time he’s spoken all night. The sound of his voice startles Petra, but the other Jaegers don’t seem too surprised. “It’s near the museum too. Very convenient.” 

“Ah, the museum!” Mrs. Jaeger clasps her hands together and looks at Petra expectantly. Petra nearly chokes on her cracker out of nervousness. “Have you been there yet?” 

“Er, not yet,” Petra says hastily, wincing at the pain in her throat. She takes a quick sip of her water to relieve it. “I haven’t really found the time, I guess.” 

“Oh, you should absolutely go!” says Mrs. Jaeger brightly. Petra had never thought Mrs. Jaeger was one to love museums, but there’s probably a lot about the woman that Petra doesn’t know now. All Petra really remembers about the woman is that she stayed at home during the daytime and worked at the hospital at night. She’s bound to have found other ways to occupy her time now that she doesn’t have to worry about Zeke anymore. 

“You sound as if you really enjoy it.” Petra nibbles at another cracker. She feels as if she should smile right now, but she’s not sure if she’s able to. “Are there any exhibits you would recommend?” 

“Oh, they’re all good! The staff especially …,” Mrs. Jaeger gushes, but her voice begins to trail off. Her eyes flicker over to Zeke as if waiting for a sign to proceed, but her son pays no attention to her. He simply reaches over for an almond on the cheese plate and pops it into his mouth. His mother’s smile tightens and she continues, “The butterfly exhibit that’s opening soon should be exquisite!” 

Petra looks from Zeke to Mrs. Jaeger. Aside from Mrs. Jaeger’s forced smile, Petra really can’t tell what’s wrong, so she puts on a false smile of her own and nods. “I know. Zeke was telling me about it on the ride here.” 

There’s a long and awkward silence. Zeke puts no effort in speaking and neither does his father, who still sits and stares at his lap. Only Mrs. Jaeger and Petra seem to be putting in any effort to pick up the conversation, both trying to appear calm as they search for some common ground to work with. Instead, the doorbell rings and Petra swears she hears a sigh of relief escape Mrs. Jaeger’s lips. 

“It seems Eren has finally arrived,” Mrs. Jaeger says, her chair scraping across the floor as she gets up from the table. As she turns to leave, she flashes Petra an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry you had to wait so long.” Petra is about to tell her that it wasn’t a problem, that she didn’t mind waiting (even if it was a lie), but Zeke’s mother has already disappeared into the next room with Zeke’s father following silently behind her. 

For a moment, Petra wonders if she should try to talk to Zeke so more. It’s not that the quiet bothers her, but she’s never felt comfortable sitting silently next to others unless she was completely comfortable with them. Ten years ago this would have been fine, but now sitting with Zeke beside her without saying a word is making her skin crawl and her throat dry. She glances at him from the corner of her eye, trying to gauge his interest. 

Zeke doesn’t seem to be bothered by the silence at all. He’s still scrolling through his phone, occasionally reaching out to pluck a cracker or another almond from the cheese plate. If he’s fine without any conversation, Petra figures she shouldn’t bother him. She settles down with her back against her chair rather unhappily and tries to occupy herself another way. 

Petra tries not to eavesdrop on the conversation going on in the other room. First, she stares down at the lace tablecloth, gazing at the delicate pattern until the floral designs are burned into her corneas. Mrs. Jaeger’s voice begins to drift into the dining room, her tone just as cold and harsh as it was when she spoke about Eren earlier this evening. Another voice floats into the room as well, a voice like Eren’s but a bit deeper and rougher than Petra remembers. As the two continue to talk, Petra finds herself straining to listen to the conversation, but she can’t quite make out the words. The words exchanged don’t sound incredibly pleasant though. 

“...if you told me we were having a guest beforehand I would have shown up on time,” Eren hisses as he walks into the room. He’s taller than he was when Petra had seen him last — probably as tall as his brother if not taller — but he walks with his head down and doesn’t seem to notice Petra seated at the table even as he pulls out a chair to sit down. Without looking up, Eren mumbles, “Sorry, I’m late.” 

Zeke looks up, his expression amused. “Eren,” he says, setting down his phone for once. He rests his chin in his hand, mouth quirked upward in a smile. “Aren’t you going to say hi to our guest?” 

“Uh, yeah. Hi,” Eren says, mumbling into his lap. His eyes flicker upward, first at Zeke and then Petra, but he doesn’t really register who Petra is until he takes another glance. His eyes are huge like a doe’s. He’s always had big eyes even when he was a child, large and green like gemstones. He’s grown into them more since the last time Petra has seen him, but they’re still enormous, growing wider as he recognizes her. His mouth falls open in surprise. “... Petra?” 

She can feel her lips curling in a smile. “Hi, Eren.” 

Eren smiles back at her, a little nervous but a lot more relaxed than he was when he first arrived. He’s still shy when he smiles, looking up at her before glancing down at his lap again. “How are you?” He sits up straighter in his seat, no longer slouching. 

“I’m well. How are you?” 

“Good,” Eren answers.

“I’m glad. I missed you,” Petra tells him, and she means it. 

His smile is a little wider now and Petra feels the most relaxed than she’s been the entire night. It’s nice to know that, despite everything, at least Eren hasn’t changed and she feels less awkward being at a Jaeger family dinner after ten years of estrangement. 

Mrs. Jaeger puts down a tub of what looks like a potato salad on the table, opening the container with a frown. “At least you didn’t come empty-handed,” she comments wryly. 

Eren winces but doesn’t say anything. 

Petra sits up. “It looks, um, delicious.” It doesn’t. It looks like a pile of mush and not at all like anything edible, but Petra begins to spoon some on her plate anyway out of politeness despite the look of alarm on Eren’s face. “Eren, your brother told me you started teaching recently. Where do you teach?” 

“Just, um, down the street. Not really elementary … it’s a daycare,” he says distractedly as he watches her help herself to his potato salad. Eren hesitates for a moment before taking the spoon from Petra and switching their plates. He does it absentmindedly, almost as if he doesn’t realize what he’s doing until he notices everyone looking at him peculiarly. Flustered, he explains, “It’s not, ah, I don’t think it’s very good. So.” As if to prove his point, he puts a heaping spoonful of it into his mouth, gagging on it as he swallows it down, and scrunches his face up in disgust. 

Mrs. Jaeger looks rather smug as Eren chokes. “I’ll just put this away then,” she says, removing the tub of potato salad from the table. She gestures for Petra to help herself to the other food on the table. “Help yourself to everything else, Petra.” 

“Er, thank you,” Petra says. She does feel bad about not eating the potato salad, but Eren looks pretty relieved. Because she’s talked Zeke’s ear off in the car and doesn’t know how to carry on a conversation with the Jaeger parents, she decides to continue her conversation with Eren. “Daycare seems like it would suit you. I bet you’re great with kids.” 

“I’m alright,” Eren mumbles as he pushes the potatoes back and forth on his plate, but he’s hiding a smile on his face, secretly pleased. He’s never been that good at hiding his emotions, which Petra thinks is an endearing trait. “Teaching at a university is probably harder.” He freezes for a moment and then hurriedly adds, “Your dad told me you work as a professor now. I ran into him before coming here. He mentioned that you taught English …?” 

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, casting a side glance at Zeke. She thought Zeke would have mentioned that they were working at the same university, but maybe it never came up in conversation between the brothers or they just weren’t as close as they were before. Forcing a smile on her face, she nods, “Yeah, I teach English, but I wouldn’t say teaching university is more or less difficult than handling a daycare. They have their own challenges, right?” 

“Yeah,” Eren replies, voice soft. His smile grows wider and, after Petra asks him about what it’s like teaching at the daycare, starts animatedly talking about his students. He seems very endeared towards a young girl named Gabi, a very mischievous but sweet troublemaker, and her companion Falco, a young boy that often has no choice but to be dragged into all of Gabi’s shenanigans. 

Talking to Eren makes the rest of the dinner go by easily. He’s always been easy to talk to even when they were teenagers and she was dating Zeke. Sometimes she would wait at the Jaeger house and talk with Eren while they waited for Zeke to come back from baseball practice. Eren was always so animated when he talked, using his hands and sometimes bouncing up and down his seat when he got excited. He still does that now as he talks about his work at the daycare, listening intently whenever Petra or even Zeke exchange their own stories about teaching. It makes her feel as if the past ten years hadn’t really happened, like Zeke and Eren had been a part of her life the entire time. 

“Oh, I brought dessert,” Eren says brightly. Before Mrs. Jaeger can say anything, he gets up to collect the paper bag on the kitchen counter and plops it on the dining table. He pushes it closer to Petra. “Your dad gave me some while he was closing up his shop.” 

She laughs. “I eat too many of these as it is,” Petra says, but she plucks an almond cookie from the bag. Her teeth sink into the cookie, savoring its subtle nutty flavor on her tongue, and sighs. “Don’t tell my dad. He won’t let me eat anymore when I get home.” 

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Eren grins. 

Petra peers into the bag. “Did he give you any chocolate croissants?” She looks over at Eren. “Those are still your favorites, right?” 

Eren looks surprised. “Ah, yeah,” he replies, blinking. “You remember?” 

“Of course, I remember,” she snorts. She manages to find a pain au chocolat and places it delicately on Eren’s plate. It’s a little smooshed from the ride here, chocolate spilling out of its side, but Eren still looks at it hungrily. “Why wouldn’t I?” 

Zeke leans forward. “I like the lemon bars. Let me know if there are any in there.” 

She laughs and actually does manage to find one, but it’s a lemon-lavender bar. Zeke assures her it’s fine, picking off the little bits of lavender that are on the top of the bar. They eat like that for a moment and Petra feels an overwhelming wave of nostalgia. It’s probably unhealthy to yearn for the past, but Petra wouldn’t mind if things somehow ended up the way they were before. 

When their dishes are scraped clean and the conversations begin to fade away, Zeke pats down the corner of his mouth with a napkin before announcing that they should stop for the night. He has papers to grade tonight, he explains to his parents who nod understandingly. The wooden legs of his chair scrape against the carpet as he gets up from the table and Petra slides out of her own seat, ready to follow him. 

“Ah, Petra,” Zeke says, pausing like he’s just remembered. He looks at her, head tilting slightly. He’s stopped by the door to the living room, his hand resting on the doorframe. “Do you mind calling an Uber to pick you up? I’d drive you home myself but …” 

“I …” Petra blinks, feeling like a deer in headlights. If she looked around, she would see that the rest of the Jaeger family has a similar expression. She’s not sure why she feels so surprised. Maybe it’s because she had expected him to drive her home, but maybe that was too much to ask of him after he had taken the trouble to drive her here in the first place. It’s not even that far of a drive to her house, but it’s probably too cumbersome for Zeke, who’s busy with grading papers and preparing for tomorrow’s lectures. There’s an awful lump in her throat like she had swallowed an egg whole, but Petra forces a smile on her face as she begins, “Sure, let me just call my dad -” 

“I’ll take you home,” a voice says suddenly. Everyone turns to see Eren standing up from his chair. At first glance he looks angry, but Petra blinks again and there’s only concern on his face as he collects his jacket and walks over to Petra. He shrugs it on and smiles down at her, his expression a little apologetic. “Er, you don’t mind riding on a bike, do you?” 

Petra has to lift her head to look at Eren and she wonders when he had gotten so tall. It must have been after she left for college. “No, that’s fine,” she replies numbly, too shocked to really think about it. She shuffles silently after Eren, mumbling a brief “thank you” when he helps her into her coat. 

“It was lovely having you over again, dear,” Mrs. Jaeger says to Petra, a smile pasted on the woman’s face as she saw the two out. She doesn’t say anything about Zeke not offering Petra a ride back. “Do come again sometime.” 

“Of course,” Petra says, although the promise feels empty. She’s not sure if Mrs. Jaeger notices or even cares because the woman shuts the door in her face before Eren and Petra are even out in the driveway. It’s not a cold gesture, but it’s a change from the days when Mrs. Jaeger would wait until Petra was almost out of sight before shutting the door and disappearing into the house. 

Petra shoves her hands into the pockets of her coat and follows Eren down the driveway, watching as he runs to the bike he had carelessly discarded on the ground before entering the house earlier. Embarrassed, Eren hastily picks up the bike, brushing it off and mumbling something about how he had been in too much of a hurry earlier to properly lock up his bike. Petra assures him it’s fine. She’s only half-listening anyway. 

“You can just sit here,” Eren says, patting a padded seat on the back of his bike. He throws a leg over his bike easily and looks at Petra, waiting expectantly. 

She hadn’t objected to the ride home before, but now she looks at Eren’s vehicle of choice skeptically. “Are you sure you’ll be able to pedal with me on it? I’m a whole other person.” Petra hovers beside the bike, but she doesn’t get on. 

“Yeah, it’s fine. It was fine when my boyfriends were riding in the back, and they’re a lot heavier than you,” Eren replies. It takes him a moment to register what he just said and then his face begins to color, cheeks glowing pink even in the dim moonlight. “I mean my ex-boyfriends. I rode around with my ex-girlfriend too, but she was really tiny too. She was …” He probably would have babbled on and on if Petra hadn’t sat down. 

“Your exes?” Petra asks, eyebrow raised. She hadn’t really thought about Eren dating, but it’s funny to think about now. She doesn’t remember if he ever dated anyone when he was in high school. She probably shouldn’t tease, but she can’t resist grinning at the boy and saying, “It looks like you were busy in college.” 

“Not that busy. Just … probably as busy as your average college student,” Eren mumbles under his breath, face still flushed. He gestures at Petra’s hands and then makes a motion around his waist. “You can … around me if, you know, you’re comfortable with it.” 

“Oh, right.” She leans forward and wraps her arms around Eren’s waist and wonders briefly how someone so tall can have such a thin waist. “Do you remember the way to my house?” she asks. 

“Of course,” Eren says. “It’s not that far from here.” 

For some reason, the way Eren answers makes Petra feel warm. Maybe it’s just the heat transfer from resting her cheek on his back. She closes her eyes, feeling the wind rush around her as Eren bikes her back home. 

It feels so comfortable, clinging onto someone so familiar and breathing in Eren’s scent, something like pinewood and a little bit of peppermint. He feels strong too, sturdy like a redwood tree. Petra doesn’t know why she doubted his ability to bike with her additional weight. He’d probably be fine having someone twice her weight in tow. She experimentally gives Eren’s waist a little squeeze. It must have been too sudden of a squeeze because they come to a screeching stop, Petra’s face slamming against Eren’s back and the two of them nearly go flying. 

“Oh, ouch,” Petra says. One arm is still wrapped around Eren’s lithe waist, but she raises a hand to rub her stinging face. “That hurts.” 

“S-sorry!” Eren stammers. He twists around to get a good look at Petra, forehead wrinkling. “I didn’t mean to stop so suddenly I was just … surprised.” He brings his hand down to where Petra’s arm is hooked around his waist, but he snatches his hand away as soon as their skin brushes as if he’s been burned. “Sorry!”

“It’s fine,” Petra assures him. Her nose is throbbing dully, but it’s not bleeding. “It’s my fault anyway. I was just surprised. You’re a lot bigger than you were the last time I saw you.” 

“I’m alright,” Eren says with a shy laugh. He pushes off on the bike and starts for home again, pedaling easily despite Petra’s weight. He doesn’t startle when Petra leans against him again, her cheek rubbing against the cotton of his hoodie. His breath hitches a little when Petra wraps her arms a little tighter around his waist, but it goes unnoticed by her. 

“Were they nice?” she asks. Eren makes a confused noise, and she can’t help but smile. Clarifying, she says, “Your exes. Were they nice?” 

Eren pedals in silence for a while before responding. “Yeah. They were nice.” 

“That’s good.” Petra sighs against his back, not noticing the way he shivers as if he can feel her breath on his skin. “You deserve to date nice people.” 

Petra might have imagined it, but she thinks she hears Eren say something in reply. He says it quietly, though, and the wind carries it away too quickly for her to hear. She straightens her back, lifting her head from where it rests against Eren’s back, but he doesn’t repeat himself and she doesn’t ask. Maybe it’s just one of those things that are meant to be spoken aloud but not heard by anyone. 

They don’t speak much the rest of the way home. Petra figures Eren is having enough trouble biking with two people and holding a conversation would only tire him out more. She just lets herself rest against him, watching as they pass streetlight after streetlight. It probably would have been more convenient to call a Lyft or an Uber, but Petra thinks accepting Eren’s bike ride isn’t bad either. It saved her from having to wait awkwardly for her driver to find the house while Zeke’s parents waited for her to leave. 

She wonders if she should have gone to dinner in the first place. Maybe Zeke had only invited her out of politeness, but she had taken it to mean more than it did. She’s stupid to think that arriving at the Jaeger house meant that things could go back to the way things were. It was noticeably tense in the house. At first, Petra thought it was because of the strained relationship between Mrs. Jaeger and Eren, but now she’s not so sure. It’s not as if Mr. and Mrs. Jaeger had met her with open arms. They hadn’t been hostile, but they were polite in the way that people were polite to house guests and not in the way they would be to a childhood friend of their son. God, she’s so stupid. She should have just declined Zeke’s offer politely and never spoken to him again since he was obviously content with not speaking with her for ten years. 

Burying her face in Eren’s hoodie, Petra gives him another squeeze. Eren doesn’t brake this time. He just lets out a surprised “oh!” and falters for a bit, bike slowing, before picking his pace back up and continuing on their way. 

“We’re almost there,” Eren tells her. As he approaches Petra’s house, the bike begins to slow before stopping completely in front of the driveway. When Petra lifts her head, Eren is looking at her, smiling. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah,” Petra nods. She gets off the bike and pats down her windswept hair, brushing some stray locks out of her face. She manages to smile back at Eren. “Thanks for the ride back. I hope it wasn’t too out of your way.” 

“It’s fine.” Eren sits at his bike, his smile a little lopsided. He looks as if he’s about to say something, but nothing comes. It’s only when Petra turns around towards her house that he opens his mouth. “Hey, Petra?” 

Petra’s hand rests on the gate of her wooden fence, just about to open it. She looks at Eren, watching as he fidgets with the handle of his bike. “Yeah?” 

“Did Zeke …?” His voice trails off and Eren’s looking everywhere except at her face. He nibbles on his bottom lip and Petra wonders what he’s so nervous about. His expression looks pained as if he’s scared whatever he has to say will hurt her, but Petra’s not sure why it would. After a moment, Eren swallows and forces a smile on his face. “Did Zeke tell you that … I work near your university?” 

“You do?” 

Eren nods. He looks a lot less nervous now, his shoulders relaxed. “Well, it’s not that far by bike.” 

“Really?” Petra hums. “I should come visit you some time then.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to -” 

“Or you could visit me?” she suggests. 

He blinks. “I can?” Eren asks. “Is that really okay?” 

Petra almost laughs. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be? You should just let me know beforehand if you’re coming,” she tells him. She walks over, pulling her phone out of her purse and handing it to him so he can add his number. “Text me or call me. I might not respond right away because I might have a faculty meeting or a lecture, but I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.” 

“Oh, alright then,” Eren says. He types away on her phone, handing it back to her as soon as he’s finished. He watches with wide green eyes as Petra sends him an emoji — a simple “Hi, Eren! It’s Petra 😊” — and looks back at her with a grin. “I’ll come visit sometime.” 

“That’d be great,” Petra says, and she really means it. “Thanks again for the ride, Eren. I really appreciate it.” 

“It was no problem,” Eren tells her. He waves as walks through the gate and up the steps of her porch. He’s still waving when she opens the door and turns around, his smile a little goofy but cute at the same time. “Have a good night!” 

“You too,” Petra says before shutting the door gently behind her. She takes a peek out the window and sees Eren still on the sidewalk with the bike. He stands there with a pensive look on his face before pushing off his bike and riding off into the night. Petra watches until he’s a tiny speck down the road. When she blinks, he’s gone. 

Petra finds her dad waiting for her in the living room, sleeping because he can’t stay awake for very long after dinner. In his lap sits a half-finished crossword puzzle. Petra smiles affectionately at her father before pressing a soft kiss on the old man’s brow. 

“I’m home,” she whispers as her father begins to stir. 

“Ah, Petra,” says her father. He looks at her, eyes still bleary with sleep, and gives her a drowsy smile. With a hand, he pushes up the glasses that were slipping off his nose during sleep. “Did Zeke drive you home?” 

Her lips press into a thin line. “No. He was busy,” Petra replies, trying to keep her voice as even as possible. “Eren took me home instead.” 

“Eren?” her father repeats, not seeming to remember the name. 

“Zeke’s younger brother,” Petra reminds him. She leans against the back of her father’s armchair as she tries to describe the half-brother. “He was a few years younger than me. Brown hair, big green eyes, kind of gangly.” 

“Oh, Eren,” her father says, nodding. Petra’s not sure if he actually remembers or if he’s just being polite, but then he suddenly says, “I saw him earlier this evening before I was closing up shop. He’s very polite. He’s a nice boy.” 

Petra leans over to rest her head on her father’s shoulder while her arms lay folded on the back of the armchair. She thinks about her ride home, how it could have been cold and miserable and lonely. And maybe her thoughts were all of those things, but the ride wasn’t. She can still feel the warmth Eren emanated from underneath his hoodie, how comforting it was to have someone to hold.

“Yeah. He’s a nice guy,” Petra says softly.