#keeping in contact over the summer to ~keep their connection alive~

[3416]

This is the problem with america. You go on 1634 tumblr in 2018 you can easily find jorts related comedy. Now nobody even bats an eye.

gonna be real, i have no idea what this means, but let's revisit the 1634 jort saga for fun bc "don't worry mitchy i got you" lives in my head RENT free

[iamumbra195]

If the Graveyard kids were demigods, which Greek god would they be the child of? (Riodanverse AU)

For Ashlyn, I believe she would just be another of Apollo's kids, keeping to herself most of the time. Nobody really paid her any mind because out of the dozens of Apollo kids, there wasn't anything particularly remarkable about her. She wasn't the Head Counsellor or anything. She liked it that way. Ashlyn discovered she was a demigod when she was young and spent two full years at the camp to fully prepare for living as a demigod in the mortal world before becoming a summer-only kid. Her sensitivity to sound is one of the strange abilities she inherited but isn't fully able to control, which is why she wears enchanted earplugs that keep sounds at a more tolerable level. Beyond that, she was a pretty average Apollo kid. She was good at the basics like Archery and Music but not beyond that of a normal Apollo kid. The only thing that really stood out was her dancing. It was her special interest, incorporating it into her daily life as a demi-god as often as she could. Her fighting style was based on ballet in canon and she preferred fighting with her legs over her hands--even going as far as putting a weapon in her shoes so she could still use her legs to attack. So she is an average demigod overall. Until one day she discovers that she was one of the few to inherit Apollo's nosokinesis, the ability to create and control diseases (like her ability to open rifts and trap people in them in canon). There's also the fact that her name literally means 'dream' or 'vision', so considering the fact that Apollo is literally the god of prophecy, I think being a child of Apollo fits her very well.

For Logan, I feel that for a long time, he would just be another unclaimed kid. He didn't know anything about his real parents and his grandparents were always super cagey about it until he was older and got attacked by a monster and they finally took him to the camp. He still doesn't know who his biological mother was. Then one day after being pushed too far by bullies, he snapped just like in canon, and was claimed by Ares, the god of war. Much to his and Barron's (another child of Ares) dismay because what the fuck do you mean this dickhead is my half-brother?! He had initially believed that his parent was related to his love for space and astronomy or maybe even his intelligence and love for math but Ares?!

For Aiden, I think being a child of Hermes suits him best. I've done some tests and got answers like Ares or the Big Three, which I don't think those really fit him. But for some reason, I like the idea that he has the favour of/is a legacy of Hades or Hecate from his dad's side while being completely unaware of it until much later (the unexplained connection his dad has to Maverick). Children of Hermes tend to be more hyperactive than other demigods and are often referred to as a jack of all trades and I think those things really suit Aiden. When he was younger, his parents sent him to camp year round in hopes that it would help him and he came back with dyed blond hair, red eye contacts and a reckless streak a mile wide.

For Ben, I believe that this kid is and always will be a child of Apollo. His deep love and talent for singing and music, his rage and hurt at having this taken away from him. His knack for medicine despite only having experience through taking care of Aiden. He only discovered he was a demigod after his voice was destroyed so he never learned that he could heal people with his voice/singing until one of the others, maybe Taylor, were fatally injured and he had no supplies to save them so as one last attempt to comfort them, he breaks his years of silence and sings for them. To his complete astonishment, they started healing and were able to stay alive long enough to get the medical help they needed. He felt pressued to sing and use his voice after that because it could heal people but Aiden or one of the others nipped that in the bud and told him he didn't have to do anything he didn't want to. The idea of him also having premonitions when something bad is going to happen is cool, especially if it's the reason why he ends up catching little details the others fail to notice (a little nod to Canvas Ben for being so goddamn observant). His relationship with Aiden is also cute because children of Apollo and children of Hermes tend to get along, although not all of them do (Aiden and Ashlyn lol).

For Taylor and Tyler, I believe the twins would be children of Hephaestus. In some cultures, identical twins are treated as one entity/soul that was separated into two people and the same could be said about the Hernandez twins in this AU. Although they are different people with different interests and goals, that is how they are perceived as mortals. On the divine side of things, however, they are seen as a single soul split into two. That's why their connection goes far beyond that of regular mortal twins. Their abilities also reflect this. Taylor is a brilliant craftswoman and has a way with technology that separates her from the rest. She's also extremely fire-resistant, which proves to be useful considering her brother has the ability to manipulate fire. Tyler, on the other hand, has the basic skills needed to be a mechanic due to growing up with Taylor but it isn't instinctive in the same it is for Taylor. He is one of the few children of Hephaestus to have pyrokinesis, something he had to learn to master on his own because there wasn't anyone to teach him. They complete each other.

Although Aiden and Ashlyn spent a year or two in the camp, their paths never crossed and they were just another faceless person in the crowd of campers until they officially met when Ben and Aiden began to go to her high school in her sophomore year. Aiden clocked her as a demigod as soon as they met at the bus and was excited to meet another one of them outside of camp. He was also curious to know if she figured out what she was yet and if not, he could protect her from monsters and lead her to camp! Ashlyn recognized both Aiden and Ben as demigods but preferred to avoid mixing her mortal life with her mythological one so she avoided Aiden's needling to the best of her ability. When Ben finally told Aiden that she was another child of Apollo at camp, Aiden doubled down on the pestering which irritated Ashlyn beyond belief. Unfortunately for her, this wasn't the last she was going to see of him.

Mid-way through the first semester, Ashlyn received a prophecy from the Oracle stating that she and five others were to go on a quest. It was a shock to her and everyone in the camp because she was pretty unremarkable yet she was the one that had to go on the quest? It was ridiculously vague beyond the fact that she specifically had to go to Savannah with a group of five others. So she had to pick five other members for her team.

Nearly everyone tried to volunteer and because Ashlyn didn't particularly care who went along, names were drawn out of a bowl. With her luck, Aiden and Ben's names were both drawn out of the bowl, along with the Hernandez twins and Logan. She wasn't particularly happy with those chosen but she supposed it could be worse. Especially when she considered the fact she could've been going with him.

Barron was throwing a fit about how an unclaimed coward like Logan couldn't have possibly been picked but Tyler told him that no one would even want to go on a quest with him considering the only thing he cared about was glory and honour for himself.

And so, the six of them packed their things and started their journey to Savannah, Georgia where it all went to hell.

[buckyb-stan]

TBR List

Following the logic of my other masterposts, I often come across posts that interest me, but I don't always have the time to read them right away. So, I like or repost them, hoping to get back to them later. Sometimes I manage to read them, but other times they just get buried in my likes and posts.

That's why I'm making this To Be Read (TBR) List to keep track of all the fics I want to read. Feel free to add some of these fics to your own TBR, and I'd love it if you could send me some recommendations too!

Thanks, and I hope this helps someone!

Still working on this list! I still have to go through my likes, I’ll keep updating

Last update: June 24th. 2024

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Series

should’ve been you - @classylo

Summary: 18+ only | He was supposed to meet you at the game. He was supposed to be the one you went on a date with. He was the one you were supposed to fall in love with. Yet, here you are three years into a relationship with another… it should’ve been him, not his best friend.

Snow - @delaber

Summary: Tired of your constant bickering, Sam sends you and Bucky on a mission alone. When the worst possible outcome happens and you’re forced to spend several days together in a small cabin, you finally get to see a different, more pleasurable side to the man whose flesh you’ve always had a thorn in.

The color of Rain - @delaber

Summary: On the run from his violent past, Bucky has sought refuge in a small town in Mexico where he enjoys the peace and quiet of not understanding a word of Spanish. A peace that is violently disturbed when he runs into the most annoying woman he has ever met.

Promise Me Universe - @winterarmyy

Summary: Y/N kept being reincarnated into the world for seemingly endless of lifetimes with the lasting, vivid memories of her past lover during the 40's, Sargent James B. Barnes. While she thought this was a 'punishment' for her sins, she was also unknowingly oblivious to the fact that James was still alive somewhere, almost forever frozen in the time.

Part I | Part II | Part III

  VACANT MIRRORS - @whirlybirbs

Summary: shit’s been rough. shit was rough even before the blip. dr. hart shares an office with dr. raynor, and you share with waiting room with bucky barnes.

Two Sides of The Same Coin - @anonymityisfunwriter

Summary: You have never had any contact with anyone or anything in the world until Fury decides to recruit you and assigns Sam to take care of you. What happens when Bucky gets to know you?

Grumpy x Sunshine universe (but this is their main story)

Cruel to be kind - @endless-summer-soldier

Summary:  it started with a dare. Bucky restlessly pursues Y/N, seeking just one date. as he chases her, he realizes she’s different from she challenges him, so he starts to catch feelings. but it all falls apart when she learns about his initial motivations. based on 10 things I hate about you!

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One Shots

The Apprentice - @chrisevansredbelt

Summary: reader is an apprentice for bruce and tony. bucky falls in love with her.

grilled cheese and other love languages - @bucky-bucket-barnes

Summary: Bucky has recently begun residing in the Compound. While out on a mission, as a favor to your friend Steve you promise to watch over his slowly recuperating friend while he adjusts to life out of Wakanda. While shy and resigned, he takes an interest in the pretty girl who checks on him.

[skysometric]

my 3rd favorite game that i played in 2023 is...

Freedom Planet 2

i was originally planning to wait on this one until the console version came out in "summer 2023." after it was delayed to the end of the year, i decided to grab the game on pc so i didn't have to wait… and i'm glad i did, because the console versions have been delayed a second time??

(i do not envy their situation and i hope the console versions are better for taking their time. honestly, i'll probably double dip anyway!)

the original Freedom Planet was a formative game experience for me during college. there was something inspiring about the way it shot for the moon – full voice acting, a fun cast of characters, a lived-in world with political intrigue, a focus on adding fast-paced combat – all trying to prove that it's more than just a Sonic fangame in new clothes.

and it worked. it gripped me and never let go! i must've replayed the story half a dozen times, speedran the levels dozens of times each. that's the reason i decided not to wait on the sequel any longer after the first console delay; i grabbed the game on pc and hit the ground running.

one aspect of what makes Freedom Planet special is its level design, and the sequel delivers – every single level is massive, open-ended, and absolutely GORGEOUS. the unique gimmicks, secret collectibles, and speedrun strats are what encouraged me to endlessly replay the first game, and each of those categories has been expanded here into some of the beefiest and most explorable levels i've ever seen in a 2D platformer, hands down. i'm so glad the sequel took its time in the oven, the levels alone were worth the wait!

to me, though, what really makes Freedom Planet stand out from other Sonic-inspired games is its fast and fluid brawling. enemies in each stage take a few hits to defeat, and every stage ends with a grand, bombastic boss fight – you get a handful of moves to tackle these fights with, and each character has very different fighting playstyles! crucially, though, there is no contact damage, meaning you can run circles around enemies while whacking away at their health bars with momentum-based attacks.

it's an incredibly fun and well-thought-out combat system, and its complexity is right at that sweet spot where it feels deep but not overwhelming. honestly it reminds me a lot of kirby's combat, which is one of my favorite combat systems in any video game! (that RtDL remake very nearly made my Top 5 this year…)

Freedom Planet 2 augments the combat system of the original in two ways. one is the addition of a spot-dodge, which feels so perfectly at home that i'm shocked it wasn't in the first game to begin with?? every game with combat benefits from the addition of a dodge, of course, but in this game especially it allows you to keep your momentum while attacking in a way that just feels so natural. there's nothing else quite like learning a boss's attack pattern enough to spot-dodge directly into a powerful counterattack!

but there's also nothing quite so discouraging as getting the boss's health down to a sliver… and biting the dust. here, too, is a place where the sequel shines: if you lose a life, you can choose to restart from a checkpoint with all your health recovered, or you can get back up on the spot with just 1 HP. the push and pull on this system is incredible – you risk getting a game over and having to redo the whole stage… but you could clutch out a victory at the last second! it has the capacity to turn near misses into huge successes, and it saved my ass countless times over the course of the adventure.

tying this all together is a great story that isn't quite as Big and Grand as the first game, but instead serves to deepen the connection between this loveable cast of characters by exploring their history and personalities in more detail. i'm still floored by the fact that these games have full voice acting – it truly makes the characters feel more alive, their personalities shine! the style of VA isn't everyone's cup of tea, i'm well aware… but as someone with fond memories of saturday morning cartoons, i find that it's very genuine and full of heart in a way that most films and AAA games don't really hit me. it's obvious that everyone involved had a ton of fun!

my one regret is that i haven't returned to the game since my first playthrough – i'd really like to replay those levels and see how fast i can clear them! and try out the other characters, and see what the arcade mode is like, and go for the achievements, and…

[keepsdeathhiscourt]

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Original Female Character

Rating: Mature (18+ Only)

Summary: Journalist Andy Elliot’s life takes an unexpected turn when a chance encounter with Steve Rogers pulls her into the orbit of the Avengers. As she begins investigating a seemingly straightforward story, she uncovers threads of a deeper conspiracy that hint at something far more dangerous. Meanwhile, a growing connection with Steve adds an emotional complexity neither of them anticipated. But as the stakes rise, Andy realizes that her curiosity may have placed her in the crosshairs of powerful enemies—and that her bond with Steve might be the only thing keeping her alive.

Series Masterlist

Read on A03

Warnings: Violence, Language

Additional Tags: Tags: Canon Divergence, Also Canon Compliant (in a roundabout way), Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Protective Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Eventual Romance, Suspense, Strong Female Protagonist, Political Intrigue, Canon Typical Violence, Language

Chapter 1: Beginnings

Somewhere in the Colorado Rockies - Summer, 2014

Captain Steve Rogers surveys the horizon with a keen eye as the Quinjet shifts into stealth mode, vanishing from view with a shudder. The sun dips lower toward the horizon, casting long shadows across the forest, transforming the trees into dark, exaggerated silhouettes. The warehouse nestled between them is unassuming—steel beams and concrete, with warped glass peeking out from behind boarded-up windows. He takes a grounding breath, filling his lungs with the crisp scent of pine. The woods are silent, a near-perfect picture of peace. Too quiet, too still. It sets his teeth on edge.

There’s still no sign of life as he stalks the perimeter, keeping the abandoned structure in his periphery. Overgrowth grabs at his ankles, and climbs its way up the dilapidated walls; the ideal front for someone who doesn’t want to be found.

A faint rustling to his left catches his attention and he glances over just in time to see Romanoff fall into step beside him, silent as a wild cat. He doesn’t flinch—a testament to how well they know each other now, though he still wonders how she does it.

“How are we looking?” he murmurs with a sidelong look.

She shakes her head, a flash of red in the fading light. “Circled twice. All quiet out here.”

He nods, pressing his fingers against his earpiece. “Barton?”

“We’ve got some company.” Barton’s voice crackles through the comm, louder than he’s expecting. Steve winces—still not fully accustomed to Stark’s gadgets. “A couple of heat signatures inside.”

“Define ‘a couple’.”

“I’m counting half a dozen on the ground floor, another three on the upper level,” Clint whispers. “Should I move in for a closer look, Cap?”

“No,” Steve shakes his head, despite knowing Clint can’t see it. “The front entrance is locked up tight. We wouldn’t be able to back you up fast enough if you run into trouble. Just hang tight until I give the order.”

He hears Barton’s level voice give him an affirmative before the line goes quiet. The tall blades of grass fold beneath his boots as he moves toward the east side of the building. All the while, he sticks to the long shadows cast by the ancient conifers, careful to stay out of view.

A breeze kicks up, rustling the branches of skinny aspens, divesting them of their fading leaves. Somewhere within the stand of trees, Wilson and Stark are combing the woods. It’s been a while since he’s heard from either of them, but that doesn’t worry him. If they’d found something, Stark would have been the first to broadcast it.

“Rogers, what are you doing?” Natasha’s voice cuts through his thoughts.

“Looking for a way in,” he says, stepping over a rotting log. There’s no need to look back, he feels the disapproval rolling off her in waves.

“This is supposed to be a fact-finding mission. No contact. Fury—“

Steve stops, turning to face her. He knew the mission as well as she did and had sat next to her as Fury gave the the rundown. Suspicious activity in an abandoned mining town in the Colorado Rockies, linked back to some names on SHIELD’s radar, back when SHIELD still existed; notable amongst them were a few high-profile chemists.

 “If Fury wanted it done his way, maybe he’d get his ass out here himself for once,” he interjects, a rare note of irritation in his voice. “I’m not about to leave with an unknown chemical agent at play.”

“I gotta agree with Capisicle on this one, Nat,” Stark chimes in over the comm. “Not sure what they’ve got, but I know I don’t want them to have it.”

Sam quickly voices his assent while Clint diplomatically refrains from weighing in, likely too focused on his own task. Outvoted, Natasha sighs, but doesn’t argue further, only gives Steve a long, unhappy look before trudging after him through the foliage. They’re halfway around the building when they finally hear from Barton.

“Looks like things just got a helluva lot more complicated,” he murmurs, voice clipped. 

“What’s going on Clint?” Natasha’s brow furrows, underlining her concern.

“Civilians.” And they both freeze.

“How many?” Steve asks.

“Two so far. First floor, near the back office."

“Shit,” Sam’s voice comes clips through the earbud, articulating Steve’s exact thought.

His eyes drift to Natasha, exchanging a loaded look. She answers his silent question with a determined nod.

Meanwhile, Stark asks, impatiently, “What’s the move, Cap?”

The gears in his brain turn furiously, sifting through strategies as he surveys the flattened grass, the gray lines of the warehouse.

“Sam, Tony,” he starts. “You two take the top floor. See if you can get in through one of the open windows. Your focus is the civilians. And be careful, we might have hostages on our hands.” He adds the last part for Stark’s benefit more than anything. He doesn’t doubt Tony’s commitment to the mission, but he understands his propensity for rash action. “Clint, stay put and be ready to cover us. Nat and I are going to come in at the ground floor as a distraction.”

“On it,” Wilson says, and though he can’t make out Tony’s exact response, he knows he’s agreed.

“Rogers,” Barton cuts in some time after they break to find an entrance. “Looks like there’s a door on the west side. Boarded up from the interior, but once you’re in, it’s a straight shot to the guards.”

“Thanks, Clint,” Natasha replies. The comms go quiet and she turns to him. “Looks like we found our way in.”

In theory, it should be a short journey to the west exterior. But the stretch between, loaded with a minefield of dead branches and brambles, makes for difficult ground, even for a super soldier and an expert martial artist. They make slower progress than he’d like, taking up the lead with his shield raised to level the largest of obstacles and paving a path forward for Natasha. Still, stray branches scrape at any exposed skin and more than once, only one of them stops to pluck an offending cocklebur from their suits.

Finally, they reach their destination—a dented side-door, rusted to a muddy shade of brown and covered in dead vines. It’s so well obscured that Steve nearly misses it. Nat stops him with a hand on his shoulder, pointing it out with a toss of her head. It takes a few passes, but they clear enough of the vines to find the latch. All it takes is one experimental turn to confirm his suspicion; not only is it boarded from the inside, but the lock is rusted shut.

He glances back at Natasha, who takes a step back as he winds up. The shield slams into the door with the shriek of metal on metal, his shoulder leaning in to support the blow. The boards burst in an explosion of splintered wood, the hinges following after as the door gives up the ghost, collapsing inward with a resounding bang.

The debris crunches underfoot. He steps through first, on high alert, Natasha close behind. The vibranium shield hovers over his midsection and he emerges into the center of the room. Several pairs of wide, startled eyes green him, and for a split second, the warehouse is eerily silent—the calm before the storm.

Then, chaos erupts. 

Armed men spring from behind cargo crates and support columns, guns aimed at the intruders. A flash of blue light and shattered glass signal Tony’s arrival through a second-floor wind, followed closely by Sam. Nat takes position and one of Barton’s arrows whistles through the air, embedding itself into the shoulder of the man edging towards Steve’s unprotected flank. The man cries out, staggering to the side, and the rest of the guards open fire.

Steve raises his shield just in time, the gunfire ricocheting off its surface. The onslaught is relentless, and trapped behind his shield, it’s impossible to gain the advantage. Wordlessly, Natasha angles herself behind the shelter of the shield and his shoulders. They’ll have to wait until the guards run out of ammunition.

The barrage slows, followed by the telltale clank of reloading. Seizing the opportunity, Steve shifts onto the offense and surges forward. The shield arcs down, slamming mercilessly into a man’s abdomen, sending him crumpling to the ground. He follows up with a punch to the jaw, knocking the man out cold before kicking his gun away.

“Rogers, behind you!” Natasha’s voice rings out.

Steve spins around, finding himself staring down the barrel of a gun. Before he can react, the assailant staggers to the side, rifle waving precariously. Natasha's legs are wrapped around his torso, an elbow hooked around his throat. Her jaw clenches and Steve winces as she snaps his neck with a grim determination, letting him drop as she lands gracefully on the floor.

There’s no time for words. More guards are coming. Steve and Natasha fall into a sort of rhythm,  moving in tandem like two separate parts of the same well-oiled machine. They fight back-to-back, Nat ducking under his arm to land a blow when he goes high with his shield.

Steve allows instinct to take over. There’s a familiarity to fighting, one he dawns like an old sweater; a neat order he’s accustomed to that could almost be considered comforting. The repetition of muscle memory underpins the thrum of adrenaline. He’s never sure if it’s the serum or the years of combat under his belt, but there’s a simplicity to sinking into habit and letting his body take over.

The warehouse exists in its own world. He isn’t sure how much time passes, only that his shoulders grow heavy and sloppiness creeps into his movements that tell him it’s been a while. If he’s tiring, then their enemies must be exhausted—what’s left of them.

Two guards remain on the bottom floor. From the fleeting glances he can spare, things seem to be grinding to a close above as well. He grits his teeth, felling another opponent with his shield just as Natasha takes down the other.

Chest heaving, he wipes his glove against his forehead, dabbing away some of the sweat stinging his eyes. A red and gold blur arcs overhead. Stark sweeps over the balcony and into wide open space with an armed guard in each hand. One minute they’re thrashing against his grip on their collars, and the next, they’re sailing down, down, down where they meet the unforgiving pavement. 

He and Steve exchange a terse nod as Sam emerges from behind a cargo crate, guiding a woman in a lab coat.

“She’s alright,” Sam assures him, though the woman’s trembling hands and wide eyes tell a different story. On his other side, Steve spots a man with cracked glasses, looking nervous but steady.

“Looks like Wilson found our civilians,” Tony says, landing a few paces behind him. “Good work, birdman.”

“Where’s Barton?” Natasha asks, scanning the area.

“Making sure the back office is clear,” Sam says as he guides the woman to a seated position. “You’re safe now, ma’am. Can you take a few deep breaths for me?”

The man with the broken glasses hovers nearby, but before Steve can ask after him, a shout erupts from the backroom. Barton crashes through the wall in a shower of drywall. Stark is there in a split second, catching him before he can collide with the ground.

But there’s no time to check on them. A hulking figure emerges from the wreckage, a man with a scarred, expressionless face that oozes experience. Steve’s heart rate kicks into overdrive as the man levels an AR at him.

“Get down!” Steve roars, hitting the deck as a fresh round of gunfire explodes above him. The air fills with the acrid smell of gunpowder, it burns his eyes as he takes stock of his companions. Natasha has taken cover behind a metal beam, Stark and Barton behind broken cargo panels, and Sam is shielding the civilians under an overturned desk.

Steve’s jaw clenches as he prepares to move. The clearest path to the threat was his. He surges forward, shield raised—half-battering ram and half bullet-repellent. It covers him as he charges headlong into the onslaught. 

He reaches the man in seconds and channels the momentum into a powerful downward swing. The shield cuts the air at the same moment his opponent raises the heavy artillery to meet him. Metal meets metal, the impact sending Steve skidding backward. 

This wasn’t an ordinary soldier—they were dealing with an enhanced being.

In seconds, the man seizes his opportunity and is bearing down on him. His teeth grit together so hard they seem likely to break. He cedes another inch, boots squealing against the ground. His knees threaten to buckle beneath the pressure, but he pushes back. Almost…there…With a grunt of frustration, the enemy leans in.

It’s what Steve’s been waiting for. The man leverages his weight onto the shield. The second he’s beyond the tipping point of equilibrium, Steve rolls out from underneath. Left with nothing beneath him but air, the soldier stumbles forward. In a fluid motion, Steve finds his feet and delivers a well-aimed right hook to the man’s jaw.

The man wavers, disoriented as Steve presses his advantage. Behind him, he hears the telltale noise of Stark’s suit powering up, catches a glimpse of Romanoff and Barton sneaking up on his flank.

They’re moving into position. It’s all a matter of playing for time now. Luckily, Steve’s always been good at causing a distraction.

“So, you get a little serum in you and think you can play major league?” he taunts, circling the man. “Why don’t you tell me who you’re working with and maybe I’ll take it easy on you?”

Righting himself, the soldier lunges with a growl, but Steve dances out of reach, slamming his shield into the man’s ribs. He staggers, then pulls himself up, but Steve doesn’t miss the new limp in his gait.

Romanoff and Barton were nearly in place—

“Enough!” A new voice cuts through the fray.

The warehouse stills as everyone turns toward the source. The man with broken glasses stands at the center of it all, a syringe filled with a glowing blue liquid held to the neck of the trembling woman. “I would think very carefully about your next move if I were you.”

Steve’s eyes narrow. Sam’s hands are up, backing away slowly. The woman’s eyes squeeze shut, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Easy now,” Sam says, his voice calm. “No one wants anyone to get hurt.”

The scientist laughs, wrenching the woman’s head back. His eyes lock on Tony. “You’re a smart man, Stark. Why don’t you guess what’s in here? Or better yet—let’s find out together.”

“Tony,” Steve warns, his voice low even as Stark’s suit powers up with a whirr.

“Even think about pulling that stopper, and I’ll blast you to kingdom come.”

“Alright,” Steve says, trying to de-escalate the situation. “You have our attention. Now, what do you want?”

The scientist smirks. “What I want is beyond your comprehension. But I’ll settle for safe passage for me and my…escort.”

His eyes flick to the hulking soldier, who has staggered to his feet.

“Give us the hostage and the vial, and you have a deal,” Steve counters.

“You strike a hard bargain, Captain.” The scientist’s smirk widens. “But negotiation is all about compromise.”

In a flash, he releases the woman, shoving her forward with brutal force. Sam catches her just in time, pulling her to safety. The soldier moves with inhuman speed, grabbing the scientist and bolting up the stairs.

Steve is off in an instant, vaulting over the railing and chasing after them at breakneck speed. Natasha and Barton are right behind him.

They burst onto the roof just as the helicopter’s propellers began to spin. Steve hurls his shield with all his might. It strikes the blades with a screech, wedging itself between them in a shower of sparks.

The scientist stumbles backward, narrowly avoiding the sparks as his bodyguard levels a gun at Steve’s chest.

Before Steve can react, backup arrives. Natasha and Barton flank the soldier as Tony swoops in overhead.

“You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” Stark taunts.

The blades beat relentlessly against the shield, their progress slowing but not stopping. Time is running out.

The scientist seems to realize it too. His grin widens as he holds the vial aloft.

“Barton!” Steve barks as the shield flies free, ricocheting off the brick wall. The soldier hauls the scientist into the helicopter, but not before the vial slips from his grasp, tumbling into the emptiness below.

Stark hesitates for only a moment before diving after it. Steve catches Clint around the waist just as the helicopter breaks free, the cable snapping.

They topple backward as the helicopter becomes a shrinking dot on the horizon. Moments later, Stark reappears, landing a few feet away, holding the vial aloft with a triumphant grin.

“I’ll take my payment in the form of compliments and a really greasy pizza.”

[denimbex1986]

'If you live in London — or indeed any large, fast-expanding British city — you may have looked at those tall, glossy columns of new-build flats, rapidly mushrooming in the city’s outer, lesser-loved patches, and absently wondered who lives there. Andrew Haigh certainly has. Much of his exquisite new film All of Us Strangers roams the echoing hallways and purgatorial wind tunnels of one such spotless high-rise development, as empty as its mandated promises of affordable housing, smelling the fresh, neutral paintwork and searching for signs of life. Few lights are on in its hard, ice-grey facade: one is in the boxy, chicly but impersonally furnished flat of fortysomething screenwriter Adam (Andrew Scott), who seems to have chosen this hollow new home as a veritable barrier from human contact. That’s who lives in these glass towers, the film suggests: people wary of living at all.

Adam is a solitary soul, which isn’t to say he enjoys his own company: he nurtures his own loneliness with a writer’s studied self-observation. He’s gay and out — to himself and presumably to the friends we never see — but comes from a generation where that social difference still presses on his mind, where he’s still used to keeping some part of himself hidden. When Harry (Paul Mescal), a young, attractive fellow rattling around a few floors below, knocks on his door with a sheepish grin, a bottle of whisky and a more-than-neighbourly offer of company, Adam briskly sends him back downstairs: you can’t focus on the solemn business of being alone, after all, with a cute Irishman in your bed. 

But something shifts, in his mood or in his mind, and Adam and Harry soon strike up an intimate connection of the type that Haigh, twelve years after breaking through with his gay brief-encounter heartbreaker Weekend, understands with equal parts emotional and erotic intensity. With his life thus hotly ruptured, Adam’s reality tilts further: on an idle nostalgic wander past his childhood home in a garden suburb, he’s startled to find his parents there, alive and well and the same age they were when they died in a car crash in 1987. They’re a little less bewildered, but full of questions for the son they haven’t seen since he was an anxious 11-year-old boy. What’s he doing for a living? What kind of writing? Anything they might read themselves? How’s life in the big city? Why doesn’t he seem happy? Surely he’s met a nice girl by now? No? Oh. Oh. Well, they’re not sure what to make of that.

All of Us Strangers is a special kind of ghost story: one less interested in the supernatural considerations of life after death than in how the uncanny puts the everyday in focus. Adam has never quite come to grips with being orphaned as a child; that has left him in a kind of in-between realm, one foot gingerly in the real world and one nervously outside it, hesitant to embrace any other life that might be lost to him. In an extraordinary performance, Andrew Scott plays him both tenderly and with an acerbic defensiveness, his tense, watchful face occasionally scribbled over with hurt surging to the surface, his gait like a persistent spiritual ache made flesh. He’s wonderfully supported by Mescal, as the life of the party who might need a lifeline of his own, and by Claire Foy and an especially devastating Jamie Bell as loving parents who can’t quite fathom the man they made, gradually realising they weren’t sufficiently there for Adam, even when they were.

I saw All of Us Strangers way back in the summer of last year, and was floored by its elegant emotional maximalism — an iridescent leap into fantasy and melodrama from a filmmaker hitherto versed in fine-grained realism — and, if I’m being honest, by the close-cut acuity of its portrait of unattached queer living in a city and generation moving steadily on from the elastic freedoms of youth. (Why would I, a single, 40-year-old gay writer in London, be hit with a shiver by this? Who can say?) Ordinarily, I would revisit a film before reviewing it a whole two seasons later, but in this case I’m not ready to: I lost my own father in November, and Haigh’s heartsore portrait of grief curdling all those other insecurities strikes me as a little too raw for the moment.

Yet the film, in all its intricately laced beauty and sadness, hasn’t left my mind these last few months. It feels like one to grow with, to revisit in different lights and mindsets, to step back from and later, when the time is right, to hold close once more. And in the meantime, to recall, with some care and concern, when you see one cube of light in a cold, sky-reaching London block.'

[warmhugs-and-chocolate]

statistics

inspired  by  :  anna of arendelle / frozen I & frozen II || anne shirley cuthbert / anne with an e || jess day / new girl || adora / she-ra and the princesses of power || mia thermopolis / the princess diaries

full name. anna arnadalr. faceclaim. abigail cowen. dob. june 21 (summer solstice) . zodiac. cancer. occupation. birthplace. arendelle. orientation. undefined . song. that’s my girl by fifth harmony.  film. frozen. education. literature teacher major temperament. sanguine. mbti. enfp. alignment. chaotic good. abilities. none.  hogwarts house. hufflepuff .  emoji (🤩) .  

present !!

anna came to elias as soon as she heard her sister was here! there was no way she was going to let her leave when things were still a bit hectic.

the education and jobs were said to be part of the magic but anna is slowly realizing is the people in it.

after a lifetime behind closed doors it is time for her to make things happen and meet actual real life people, perhaps even, the one?

past !!

full official bio here

 anna went to a far more large quest to find her sister, in the road she faced lots of trials and met all kinds of people, good evil, morally grey. . . she never judged, she learned from them and hoped she made an impact backwards

the quests and adventures led her to become stronger, emotionally and a bit physically if anything she has learned the world is huge and it can be very beautiful as long as we don’t forget to do the next right things

those beliefs of the past are imprinted in her, she believes they come from her dreams, fantasies and stories she read, but the remnants are there

in her solitude, after always being shut down out of her sister’s doors, anna tried all kinds of things tot never get bored, art, writing, reading, knitting, workout, sellf-defense, anything that would help her release her energy

future !!

anna’s main goal is to reach her big sister’s elsa’s heart, to be as they used to, they are family after all, she wants to be there and keep what is left of said family alive and tight, can her love thaw the distance?

she’s naive and can be easily deceived when it comes to her own heart, so gaining strength and a sense of self love and worth would be something she must learn to keep on going

taken connections

elsa arnadalr; biggest sister whom she loves and adores, and wishes to be closer at, if only she weren’t awkward about it

wanted connections

allies and friends, either from a past life to a new one from this doesn’t matter, as someone who couldn’t really be free for years and lost contact with people, true friends would be nice

enemies and rivals, not everything is ice cream and flowers, with anna’s way of act first think later attitude she could’ve made her own list of rivals, besides as much as she tries she can’t please everyone

friend, foe or ‘the one’? someone that takes her need to be loved and is actively deceiving her for their advantage would be interesting

fated true love, or do we defy the stars? yes, a true love for anna would be nice too, she highkey dreams of it, but would treasure it more if it’s real and something that works with time

mentor? someone that maybe has looked over anna and believes she only needs a little guidance, as someone with no parents and a distant sister, she would listen and admire, but above all learn from too

found younger sibling, maybe both were born in different families, realms even, but fate brought them together and anna wants to adopt you into the family, perhaps not literally but you get the deal, everything will be all right because anna will be here not only to protect you but to cause mischief together

hans & kristofflet's twist fate, have fun and see what happens

pinterest moodboard

note: everything is up to change depending on future development and plottting

[tourmelion]

Perfection

~

Tucker talking about the discontinuation of a specific part making the specific tech unfixable after a while and raving about companies ruining their tech so people buy new stuff

Danny in the back ground just puffs out this obscenely large cloud of smoke

Peeps in the comments going wild wondering how that much smoke gets into your lungs

Some think he smokes crazy amounts of weed, which would explain his past behavior

Others just blown away by the sheer volume of smoke think he swallowed a god damn smoke machine

~

Tucker is speaking about the new cooling mechanism for pears computers new waste of money computers, and how it isn't good enough for summer heat and how you're computers overheat cause it's not strong enough

And how when it's cold the liquid cooling box freezes and breaks the box making it melt onto the wires and circuit boards, frying the entire thing

Absolutely raving about how terribly designed this waste of money computer is

Danny just walks in, covered in blood, with a knife in his heart, and he just walks off screen

Comments lose their minds over this

Everyone agrees it's just a bit but it's so realistic, AND, how does he achieve the other stuff

~

Tucker explains why he's not done as many videos recently cause he lost his job and has had to take up a worse one and work more house to keep the lights on

Danny comes in and seconds this, 'yeah, he's been busting his ass, lay off in his branch, probably cause of the manager, he'd mess with everything'

Lights suddenly cut out, the only thing illuminating the room is the setting sun and Danny's glowing eyes

The photo and video editors not understanding how they were able to make his eyes glow without it looking weird with that green shade. The depth is difficult to achieve

The Photoshopers are asking just how he made that happen

The rest of the comment section are split between this being an ARG and Danny being a genuine cryptid, and one guy saying he may be an alien, dib in the comments saying how his whole eye was glowing, hinting at contacts being used, or possibly a robot LED and plastic eyes, that hes some hyper mobile animatronic, no one believes it

~

Tucker is explaining the new piece that came out for PC modifications, Danny walks in looking at his phone, suddenly he looks up with an inconvenienced face with his torso hidden by tucks chair, Danny starts sinking, comically to the floor out of view. Tuck spins his chair to the side to get an older piece to compare to the newer one

Danny is gone

He isn't on the floor

He just disappears

By now the whole comment section loves this silly little man and his randomness and sillyness

He's now dubbed Dan the strange

Also being called the creature

Others name him the skin walker

Others make even more outlandish theories he's a bunch of rats piloting a robot costume

He's an interdimensional being and that's why he acts so strange

Some say that Danny isn't even alive

Tucker never mentions him

He's a ghost haunting his house doing weird ghost stuff

A spirit

By now both Tuck and Danny are clued into the comments theories and how much they enjoy Danny's confusingness

They both share a laugh about it

AND THEN, WES WESTLEY ENTERS THE SCENE

By now everyone thinks it's a skit, but then this guy comes in as some crazy conspiracy theorist saying he's a ghost or a zombie

Everyone is convinced he's a connected account made by Tucker and Danny to expand the bit

Danny and tuck are extatic at this new development

The more he tries to convince people he's telling the truth the more deranged he looks

And dib comes in and says some other stuff about other features that could imply Danny is another cryptid

They go back and forth speaking absolute nonsense from the publics POV, aliens having glowing eyes, zombies need to stay cool to keep their skin from rotting, they eat people, hence Danny wishing to soupify people. They argue about all sorts of details to the delight and amusement of everyone

Danny and tuck are loving this

The Viewers

Danny and Tucker move in together for college in Gotham

Tucker decided to make tiktoks just for fun, he could teach people about technology and help give tips.

He didn't realize that his viewers could see Danny in the background in some clips.

Danny being Danny was never caught doing something normal instead it was always something weird.

~

Tucker: "So you just switch this piece here-"

Danny in the background more than half his body in the fridge, the fridge is very noticeably growling

Tucker who is so used to it, it doesn't even register in his mind that it's not normal.

~

Tucker fan-boying about the new Wayne tech

His viewers looking behind him at Danny

Danny running around fighting his food which is also growling & flying

~

Tucker modifying his tech for the viewers

Danny's voice in the distance: "Bye Tuck, I need to go soup this guy real quick!"

Viewers: "Cannibalism?!"

~

Tucker: "Ah yes a very normal video!"

His viewers watching Danny:

~

Just an Idea

[heartofspells]

Hello, it's AMA with heartofspells! Tell me about a universe where Sirius survives OOTP. How do the rest of the books unfold with Sirius alive? (And beyond, if you want!)

Hmm, is that what this is? Yeah, okay. AMA with Holli, everyone! Come one, come all! Except I'm not that interesting.

BUT then here's Imp, starting things off with a bang and making me use my brain. That's a bit evil and I love it.

Let's just pick up after the DoM battle, shall we? Sirius survives (duh, no other universe exists), he's cleared of all charges after a bit of struggle, but he was there fighting against those he was suspected of aiding, so there's not much denial at play. No Order of Merlin, though, because the Ministry are salty bastards and he's still alive. They don't care.

Skip ahead to right before the summer. Free and clear, Sirius leaves Grimmauld Place (good riddance, too many bad memories now, as though there weren't before) and he returns to Remus' little cottage surrounded by woods, fresh air, loads of room to roam and run. They set up a room for Harry, and then Sirius begins his battle with Dumbledore, the one he never got to truly have all those years ago. Harry is his, belongs with Sirius, a right bestowed onto him by his best friends. Legally, there's nothing Dumbledore can do. The only power he has at play is the blood protection, but Sirius only scoffs at that. Harry's coming home.

He spends one day, only one, with the Dursleys, Padfoot present the entire time. And of course Sirius doesn't have to be the dog, but it's more fun that way, though he does take his chance when Vernon becomes particularly enraged over something to shift back to himself, very intimidating, causing the man to choke on his own tongue.

Now, clever as Sirius is, as well as Remus, they connect a few dots based on what they've learned about Harry being linked with Voldemort. Dumbledore is keeping secrets, he always has, so as the summer progresses, Sirius and Remus work around him, do their own research about what could link a two people together, wand reactions, really looking into that night in Godric's Hallow and what happened to destroy Voldemort as he once was. And Sirius, with access to centuries of Black family tomes filled with the darkest of things, figures it out, consults a few others, somewhat experts, before setting to work.

While Harry is at school, constantly in contact with his two loving and attentive parents, attending to studies and finally, hopefully, feeling like the teenager he's meant to be, Sirius and Remus begin hunting down the Horcruxes themselves. They use their own contacts for the research they need, track down those that had interacted with Riddle and survived, learn whatever secrets he hadn't managed to bury. They find them all, every last one, gaining the ring before Dumbledore can, no curse there to set Draco's path into motion, squashing it before it starts. No reason for Dumbledore to act out of panic and begin showing Harry the memories relating to the Horcruxes. They take them back to their home, ward a clearing in the woods until it's safe, destroy them with Fiendfyre, Sirius understanding just how volatile it can be, how carefully it must be cast, how clear a person's head should be before doing so. And he does it all for Harry. For Harry and for Lily and for James.

It takes a long time, just the two of them working at it, fear clawing at them if the wrong person finds out, relays it back to Dumbledore. But they're not finished yet, the worst still to come. It's nearly the end of Harry's seventh year, NEWTs fast approaching, Harry exactly where he belongs, not traipsing all over the country, living rough, but warm in his bed every night. They've still been looking into that night when everything finally fell apart beneath their feet, sorting out the pieces, puzzling them together until they finally form the answer.

Harry is a Horcrux.

Now look, I could go into a lot of detail here and try to fix all the issues that are RIFE in canon, but I will not. Harry's a Horcrux, but they can't kill him, Sirius would never, wouldn't even risk it. So they corner Voldemort, blast him with the Killing Curse, trap his maimed soul, bury him in a cement block at the bottom of the North Sea (near where Sirius had spent SO MANY wasted years) and live happily ever after.

Harry lives his life, does as he pleases, roams a bit without a master, free to do as he wishes with his best godfather in full support of his choices. Remus gets to live a comfortable life with Sirius, working as he pleases, surrounding himself with books and whatever else he likes, and Sirius goes into training to be a Healer. He and Remus have an entire litter of babies with their big brother Harry always around to spoil them senseless until he's got his own kids to be rightfully spoiled by their grandfathers Moony and Padfoot (Moony always has chocolate in his pocket, but shhhh don't tell Harry)(he knows). They all grow old and lazy and Sirius finds that he really enjoys comfortable slippers with rabbit ears very much.

THE END

[killmebythebeach]

A bunch of head cannons (Maybe too much). Also in talking about the characters.

I think Dream is that one design where his skin is just the static tv screen. He just constantly emits that fuzzy noise, Sam crafted him the smile mask that he can see through so he doesn't scare people.

George is just kind of the server itself. He's the same species as Hannah, but a mushroom and more powerful. If he stays awake too long, the server just kind of freezes. This is also a reason XD keeps him sleeping, it's his way of talking to George and he thinks the server is like his soap opera of mortals.

Callahan is sort of like the person who makes sure George doesn't get killed or dies while asleep, making sure he's surrounded by mushrooms and such. Deer hybrid <3

Alyssa joined the server because she knew all her friends were idiots and didn't want them to die immediately. But once the elections rolled around, she felt the pressure of choosing sides and ran away to the desert, only keeping contact with Ponk. She actually lives just a couple miles from Foolish's summer home. Her communicator actually died after a couple months and she had no way of charging it, so she lost contact with everyone.

Sapnap is a magma cube hybrid and can jump higher than most, his natural temperature runs hotter, and is fire proof. Bad found him in the nether when he was maybe 10-15 years old.

Sam was actually a normal creeper, but gained player like sentience from being struck by lightning. Instead of becoming charged, he gained intelligence and met the others on the server. Callahan taught him some Redstone, but from there he figured out a lot on his own. He's also a creeper centaur.

Ponk is actually a descendant of a fairy, a lemon tree. Their mask was also a gift from Sam because after the second or third time their tree was burnt, their immune system was weakened a considerable amount. Alyssa also wore her mask for them.

Bad is a size shifting demon from the nether, more specifically soul sand desert. He uses soul fire to gain strength, so because the egg died when near it, he was just a little weaker than normal. Because he's a demon he needs a tie to the overworld to stay there, he tied his soul and lives to Skeppy.

Tommy was grown in a lab to be a hero, project: THESEUS. The lab gave him small enhancements, like slightly stronger and just a bit more resilient, to make the Above Average Boy (TM). He then ran away to meet Wilbur. When Dream asked Wilbur if he wanted to come to the server, he asked if Tommy could go first to see what it was like. He also actually really likes gardening and making up funny songs to Wilbur playing guitar. He also made funny lyrics for his discs, but he's still a bit scared to take them out of his ender chest. Other than bringing attachment, Dream also exiled Tommy to see what his lab enhancements could do.

Tubbo is an adaptive hybrid! His hair was blond, shifting to brown when Wilbur found him, getting blue eyes from Tommy, growing small horns under Schlatt, parts of his skin being static when Dream was "helping" him with his presidency, and parts of his scars tinging black and green from Ranboo and Micheal. Tubbo also helped Wilbur write part of the anthem. He likes living in the snow because the Manberg flag had magma blocks on it, casting a heatwave over the country, and after L'Manburg blew up it got really hot from the exposed stone in direct sun.

Fundy can actually hold his breath for a very long time and swim very well because of Sally teaching him and his salmon genes. The yellow things on his hat are actually shells, and the stripes on his jacket are trans colors. Also with his dreams, he saw Eret was going to betray them but didn't think it was real, or didn't want to. He also saw Wilbur blow up L'Manburg but chose not to believe it, thinking his father could still be saved. He actually saw pretty much everything, but didn't quite understand what they were until after doomsday.

The necklace Punz wears is one of those picture lockets, but he lost the picture and can't remember what it was. The first time Dream paid him was when Dream asked for help and Punz made an off hand joke about getting money, and then Dream thought he was being serious. Him, Dream, and Sapnap were like brothers, and Punz got sadder every time he saw Dream pushing people away and diving deeper into darkness.

Purpled is an aliensent to see if the planet was colonizable, but then crashed and was stranded, all his communications down and his ship barely able to hover fifty feet off the ground. When Quackity blew it up, he essentially got rid of his chance of ever going home. Purpled's species can shapeshift, so he turned himself into the first person he saw, Punz. Eventually before trying to communicate with the native life forms, he edited his form a little so they weren't identical, keeping purple eyes and antennae, changing the colors slightly, and changing the voice up. When he moves away from the main SMP, Ponk makes sure to check up on him and that he has a way to check his communicator.

Wilbur came a month after sending Tommy. His father being a patron of life and his mother the goddess of death, he met in the middle being born as a human. The only reason Ghostbur was as active and present as he was was because he was so connected to both life and death. Since his corpse was decaying for as long as it was, Wilbur is now super weak, his flesh is thin and his eyes are rotted and gone. Much like Ghostbur, Wilbur in limbo saw what people said about him, and Ghostbur could hear that from the back of his head. Now Wilbur can hear what people say about Ghostbur and he hates it, not wanting to be connected to what he thinks like a shell of himself.

Schlatt is a ram (duh) and actually does the fainting goat thing. So when he died of a heart attack, no one knew at first if he was actually dead or not. His alcoholism stems from the revive book, as the possibility of tampering with death made him existential and scared, so to cope he drank. There are also a ton of other stuff other than revival in the book, but it's in galactic.

Skeppy was just a normal human, but after making the pact with Bad, Bad put a spell on him. Parts of him turned into diamond, protecting both his and Bad's lives. He however, is unaware of this. With the egg, he would just sit on it, the diamonds chipping away to make room for the vines.

Eret was cursed by the Wither Cult, giving them white eyes and a slowly deteriorating memory. Not sure what to do, Foolish dropped them off at the SMP. Sometimes they would dream about old memories from before the curse, but it was just glimpses so he could never tell what they meant. Once they were king, they made the Herobrine shrine subconsciously, not really sure what it was after. They also had a strange affinity of beacons and resurrection, some of their memories resurfacing when they tried to help Phil and Ghostbur revive Wilbur after doomsday. The reason people are more scared of their eyes than any other wierd eyes was because he generally looks like a normal human, but the wither along with their Herobrine origins creates an uncanny valley that people are shocked by.

Jack had red and blue irises before crawling out of hell, but after coming back the whites of his eyes also turned red and blue. He always wears 3d glasses so no one noticed, but he just thought no one cared enough to mention it. He also has a bunch of scars and burn marks that no one but him can see, therefore no one asks about them or thinks something is wrong, cementing the idea that no one cares about him.

Niki is a blaze hybrid (stole this from @/420technoblazeit) whose fire hair color changes based on strong emotion, something she bond with Tubbo for as a fellow shifter. A soft yellow in L'Manburg, brighter orange in Manburg, hot pink on Doomsday, a soul fire blue with the syndicate (which Techno hates), and a dead grey when she found out Wilbur was alive. She was also old child hood friends with Ranboo and Eret, leaving Ranboo for the SMP. Ranboo, unfortunatly, doesn't remember much more than her name. She also knows galactic from Ranboo, so she talks about her troubles to Shy the Enderman. She doesn't really know how to talk to Puffy anymore after Doomsday or finding out how she wants to protect Tommy.

Quackity can perfectly replicate someone's voice and, with a lot of effort, can completely change his form to another player. He also has very small yellow wings, too small to fly, so he almost always hides them. He used to constantly change his voice for jokes with Karl, Sapnap, and George, but he doesn't like doing it now in Las Nevadas, as he sees it as unprofessional. However, sometimes he uses when he visits Dream, changing his voice to people like George and Sapnap to make torture more effective.

In the In Between and Other Side, Karl actually looks like his old skin, or his natural state (the big purple one that inspired his sweater). But most of the time in the normal world, he looks human. With effort he can bring out the interdemential being thing, something only Quackity and Sapnap know about. The more he time travels, the easier it becomes to change, and he's even started defaulting to the other form.

HBomb is actually just a normal news reporter, sent to interview and record what's going on in the server, his first big story being the election. Upon Doomsday, the stress of seeing everyone alone, fighting, and disconnected, he ran away from the world, essentially becoming a cat lady. His undercover reporter persona is actually the cat maid. He eventually came back to the server to see how he could help after Doomsday, befriending Niki again and living with her in the underground city.

Techno is a piglin, so he's scared of soul fire. He forgot to tell Phil before he decorated the syndicate room, so he just suffers in silence. He also does better when around a lot of gold, like in the nether, and he feels drained and slightly weaker without it. Instead of just putting gold around the area (it would ruin his property value), he just hibernates. He has an emerald earing, like all of the syndicate, but his is a locket that unfolds into pictures of the syndicate.

Ant always wears a red hoodie, now ruined by the egg, that used to be Red's. On Red's death anniversary, him, Bad, Skeppy, and Sam would make cake and put flowers on his grave. He missed the last one because it was during the egg, but for a brief moment after Puffy killed him he saw Red. Red then promptly and bluntly told him to stop being a pussy (haha, cat) and that he shouldn't do all this just to get him back, one of Ant's motivators to make amends with the people he hurt while with the egg. Ant is also a shapeshifter, but can only turn into a cat.

Phil actually used to work under Foolish as a patron of life but then he had a son with the goddess of death, so his title was removed so he could be with her and he became an Angel of Death. Kristin noticed how sad he was after being released, so she gifted him wings. They were however, destroyed on November 16th. His chat also serves as messenger pigeons, which were used to send letters to Wilbur.

Connor is actually just a hedgehog who somehow befriended Schlatt. Even before the haunted mansion, Karl vented to him about his time travel troubles, not knowing he was a sentient player. As a hedgehog, no one really cares where he goes, so he goes outside the server limits to meet his friends from the haunted mansion.

Puffy is a distant relative of Schlatt, but instead of politics she went into piracy. With her mom, she went travelling the seas. One say, a storm came and wiped out her ship, her crew, her mom, everything but her. The reason she survived was because Foolish saw her and saved her. Unfortunately, Puffy hit hee head in the crash and doesn't remember anything.

Vikkstar is the equivalent of a big time celebrity, so of course his endorsement of POG2020 was a big deal.

Lazarbeam is literally just a ginger bread cookie.

Ranboo has actually met a lot of the smp before actually joining. He's met Niki, Fundy, Eret, Punz, and Dream at least. He also sees the inverted colors Enderman see. His suit was actually a gift from Eret before they forgot how to tailor. He got the crown from Techno after joining the syndicate, claiming he didn't want any syndicate members to look like trash.

Foolish came to the server most recently to check up on Eret, but he couldn't bring himself to leave again. When Puffy adopts him, he can't say no because he remembers saving her. His initial goal was to kill an ender dragon to claim the XD title and become a full god like DreamXD, but after realising someone already killed it he went into his totem if death phase. Upon meeting Eret, he got over it and they went on some silly adventures, Foolish now taking a more peaceful route.

Hannah is essentially a weaker George, as her power is tied to the plants themselves and not the entire server. She however has a lot more physical power because rose dryads like to fight because they have thorns. Since roses can be taken out a lot easier, she is essentially a glass canon. Also when around any plant, she can make it grow faster than normal.

Any guest on the server? Corpse, Pokimane, Lil Nas? They were all Slimecicle. That's how he knows where everyone is from, even outside of Las Nevadas. No one else knows this. He's also ancient, if he met Phil they would probably recognise eachother. There was an actual Charlie Slimecicle who was not a slime, but after being launched into orbit this Slimecicle decided to impersonate him.

Michael Mcchill is a sort of bounty hunter. He came to the server after hearing of all the crime, assuming there'd be a lot of bounties to collect. However, he soon learned that no one really cares if you commit a crime. He then took to reading news articles made by HBomb to see if there were any past open bounties. But after reading for a while about the server's wronguns, mostly Dream, he began to sympathise with them. And he's also a speedrunner, so maybe he could help with some bounties across other servers!

This was a very long post and i apologize, but it was so fun to finally write all these thoughts down! I hope you liked them! I can't even fit all the tags I want.

[uwuwriting]

Soulmates w/ Dabi, Shirakumo and Keigo

Request: Hello! I just read a few of your writings &I'd just like to say they're amazing! Anyways, may I request some hc's for a soulmate AU w/ Dabi, Shirakumo, & Hawks?(all separate)- anonymous

Soulmate Aus have a shit ton of tropes so I went for a different trope on each boy bc I love them all. My man Dabi has dipped the last few chapters and I’m getting kinda deprived, although I appreciate him not burning my baby Shoto to a crisp so we good. Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: angst with some fluff

 Dabi/Todoroki Touya II Interchangeable eye color

-Dabi’s outlook on love is really negative. 

-Growing up the way he did and in the environment he did, the possibilities in him believing or cherishing love and soulmates was low. 

-When he got his soulmate sign he was around 12. 

-It was the darkest moments of his life and he hated himself to no end. 

-When he woke up on that fateful Sunday morning he thought that he was hallucinating. 

-Then he imagined that this could be an after affect of his trauma, just like his hair. 

-His mind though drifted to his soulmate. 

 -He didn’t have a mark up until now and your eye color changing was one of the many soulmate signs out there. 

-As he stared at his left eye, the e/c orb staring back at him, he began to cry. 

-Sobs wracked his body as he clutched his eye. 

-This was unfair. 

-He shouldn’t have a soulmate, what good could he be to anyone?

-He is a failure and he is gonna bring down his soulmate as well. 

-So he hides it. 

-Puts a patch over his eye to conceal the new color blooming around his iris and when his family starts questioning it he buys contacts. 

-Natsuo helps him even though he doesn’t understand why his brother doesn’t want a soulmate. 

-Years pass until he finally meets the person that has changed his life. 

-Shigaraki was being a brat as usual, whining about needing new members for his little group. 

-Dabi couldn’t care less.

-This  whole charade with these losers would only aid him reach his ultimate goal. 

-He didn’t care about Shigaraki’s shitty ideologies and otherworldly desires, he just wanted his revenge. 

-His eyes scanned the so-called hide out in utter boredom, his gaze landing once again at the bar’s door left slightly ajar in case someone came looking. 

-He didn’t expect for the door to open though. 

-And as the grease old door creaked open a figure stepped into the room, clad in black from head to toe. 

-A mask was covering half of your face leaving only your eyes visible. 

-You scanned the place before your eyes landed swiftly on him, knocking the breath out of him as you locked gazes, e/c orbs baring into his own. 

-The vibrant blue on your left eye had him gasping for air. 

-It was stunning. 

-You moved to talk to Shigaraki, your voice albeit monotone and cold, sent tingles up his spine making his hairs stand at attention. 

-His eyes were glued on you, one of his hands subconsciously going to the left side of his face where his mark should be visible.

-It felt as if his contact burned his eye and he quickly took it off, not minding about possible infections since he didn’t wash his hands before touching his eYE DAMMIT YA NASTY AF. 

-His body was drawn to you, his mind screaming at him to talk to you to go close to you. 

-You knew he was your soulmate. 

-You had known the moment you stepped into the bar; no one had such a beautiful blue hue in their eyes other than your soulmate. 

-Despite your mutual desire to be close to each other you  held off for months. 

-Months of keeping distance, months of giving each other the cold shoulder. 

-It would all reach a tipping point soon and Dabi would finally understand what it’s like to truly love someone. 

-Until then though, suffer in your mutual pining. 

Shirakumo Oboro II Red string of Fate

-The string around his pinky finger always lay motionless for years. 

-It was slack and lifeless, no sign of his soulmate being remotely alive. 

-It really worried him, he thought that he might be one of the few unfortunate individuals who didn’t have a soulmate. 

-He talked to his friends about it and they all reassured him that his soulmate was just too far away from him so even if they tugged at the string he wouldn’t be able to feel it. 

-This reassured him all throughout middle school. 

-He started getting a little discouraged when he saw all his classmates getting their soulmate signs whether it be names tattooed on their wrists, one of their eyes changing color or a strand of their hair, other could hear faint music if they concentrated hard enough while others were unfortunate enough to feel their soulmate’s pain. 

-Shirakumo was left staring at the red string surrounding his finger. 

-He had thought about tugging at it, making the first step instead of waiting for the person on the receiving end.  

-But on this day, the day when both Aizawa and Hizashi got their respective signs he found himself tugging at the string. 

-At first he pulled lightly watching the string grow taught slowly and then go slack again. 

-He waited for what felt like a century before tugging again and again, more force being put in his pulls every time. 

-After an hour of waiting and tugging he was done. 

-Eyes downcast with a frown on his lips, he was ready to let this whole soulmate thing go. 

-At the end of the day he doesn’t need the universe to tell him who he should fall in love with; who he is destined to be with. 

-Then he felt it. 

-The lightest tug at his finger. 

-His eyes followed the red string as it straightened a few times before going limb again. 

-Aizawa walked in on him pulling the string like crazy, excited giggles leaving his lips when his soulmate responded with their own pulls. 

- “Shota I did it. T-they answered!”

-This whole string communication business lasted until the first day of high school. 

-As Oboro walked through the halls of UA he felt the string shift on his finger. 

-It was as if it was wrapping tighter around his finger, almost to the point that it hurt. 

-Maybe he was about to meet his soulmate that’s why the string was thinning. 

-Wait, meet them??

-He wasn’t ready to meet them!!!

-What if they didn’t like him? What if his hair was a bit too cloudy for their likes? Oh god his hair must be a mess because he flew here. Maybe he can dash into one of the bathrooms and fix it real quick. Will he be too loud for them? What-

-Lost in his own thoughts he completely missed the person standing in front of him and soon he was crashing into them, a small grunt leaving his lips as he maneuvered himself to cushion their fall. 

- “Oh God I’m so sorry, I was totally zoned out. Are you alright?” 

- “Why are you apologizing? I ran into you.” 

-He let out a chuckle as you scrambled off of him, dusting off your skirt before offering him a hand. 

-As he took it he felt his pinky being released from the pressure. 

-Right before your eyes you witnessed the red string that connected you both unwrap for your fingers, illuminating for a moment before completely disappearing leaving a sense of familiarity and warmth in its wake. 

-You both stared wide eyed at each other before awkwardly introducing yourselves. 

-It didn’t take long for you two to actually fall in love and if you’re being honest it’s was so easy to fall for him that you believed that even if you weren’t soulmates you would have loved him. 

-Even after years, even after that fateful summer, the sense of his presence and his warmth never left you; it was as if he wasn’t gone and he was still somewhere out there. 

-You were half wrong in that one….I think. 

Takami Keigo/Hawks II Name tattoos

-He got his tattoo when he was 13. 

-It had really awful timing if he was being honest. 

-The hero commission was isolating him completely, even from the few friends he had made around the facility he trained in.

-He couldn’t even begin to imagine what they might do if they find out he had a soulmate. 

-He truly wished he had a different soulmate sign or no soulmate at all. 

-He did everything in his willpower to hide the calligraphy of your name on his left wrist. 

-Bandaging it up, covering it with a watch even scribbling over it like he used to do when he was 9 and bored. 

-But at some point it became harder to hide it, harder to conceal the beautiful name that was printed on his wrist. 

-So he confided in someone. 

-One of the caretakers at the commission had taken him under their wing ever since he was a wittle toddler, he trusted them with his life. 

-When he approached them frantically grasping his wrist in attempts to hide the letters, they were both delighted and saddened. 

-It was nice knowing that this poor child had someone out there that was meant for him and would make him happy, replace every single one of these awful memories with new ones.

-Memories he would like looking back to. 

-But just like Hawks himself they knew that the commission wouldn’t allow this person to get involved with him, at any costs and they knew how far these people could go in order to guarantee Hawks’s undivided concentration. 

-So they helped him; they bought him some make up to cover it up and taught him how to apply it correctly. 

-By the time he was out of the hands of the commission *at least not in close reach* no one apart from them knew of his soulmate’s name. 

- “Now listen here Keigo, I want you to take good care of them when you finally meet them. And never forget that you deserve nice things, don’t let anyone take your happiness away.” 

-He did find his happiness. 

-It didn’t happen right away but it did come sooner than he expected. 

-He had learned about the new transfer student who began attending UA in the middle of the year. 

-He never heard their name but he knew they existed. 

-Turns out they were quirkless but were determined to become a hero despite their shortcomings. 

-After a few months he bumped into them and oh lord his wings have never been puffier. 

-He was  relaxing on the roof, away from prying eyes and loud people, just him and the birds *he found his people at last*.

-When he heard the door open he almost leaped off the building but paused at the sound of a soft voice. 

- “Oh I’m so sorry I didn’t know someone was up here.” 

-Turning around he came face to face with the most beautiful person he had ever laid his eyes upon. 

-For the first time in his life he stumbled over his words, a swift ‘It’s alright’ escaping his lips and before he knew what he was doing he was inviting you to sit with him. 

- “Wow you can see everything from here.” 

- “The view is better up in the sky if you ask me.”

-After a long pause he added. “I could show you if you want.” 

- “How can I trust you? Hmmm?” you teased. “I don’t even know your name.” 

-He let out a chuckle before continuing. “Could say the same for you but since I’m a gentleman I will grace you with my name. I’m Keigo Takami or Hawks if you wanna go with my hero persona.” 

-He saw your eyes widen as you stared at him, your eyes darting to his covered wrists. 

-Quickly you composed yourself straightening your shirt and extending your hand, the black letters of his name delicately engraved on your smooth skin. 

- “Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N L/N.”  

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[thesunshinebunny]

When the world falls apart, the only thing we can hold onto is ourselves (Part II)

Series Master list

pairing: canon Eren Jaeger x reader

content: Angst, unstable relationship, breakup, smut/nswf+18, major character death, violence, blood (obviously), war (pretty obvious)

summary: War and hate. It’s what defined the world at this exact moment. You failed your comrades, and by failing them, you failed yourself. Your relationship is hanging by a thread and your enemies will not only be found on the other side of the sea, but also in the mind of the person you love the most. How will you take the reins in the face of so much destruction?

Chapter summary: Coming home is melancholy and cold, and your squadmates ask you to do what you couldn't do for a year: speak up and find out what's going on inside Eren's mind.

Words count: 5.3k

They say that when a loved one leaves this world, the days follow turns gray, colorless; How ironic to think that the day we buried Sasha was gray, there wasn’t a trace of the blue sky or some solar ray that could give us the warmth we were lacking. It was cold, a cold that got into your bones and no matter how many hugs and words of mutual support we gave each other, we couldn’t get the warmth we needed.

My soul had been fragmented the moment Sasha left this world, but seeing my friends cry at her grave and leave bouquets of flowers, it fragmented even more. I wasn’t able to meet Nicolo's eyes, my guilt prevented me. Inside, I wanted this Marleyan to yell at me, to tell me that he hated my presence, that Sasha's death had been my fault, and that I should have given my life if it meant saving her. I wanted with all my being that he would give me a reason to really feel guilty.

On the way back to the island, the others assured me that her death wasn’t my fault, that I did everything possible to keep her alive. But my ineptitude, my grief, my low self-esteem prevented me from seeing things clearly. I just needed… something to hold onto.

And I wasn't getting anything.

I felt how I was slowly sinking into the rabbit hole, without the possibility of clinging to a tree root. I was falling, falling, falling, unable to know when I would hit bottom. But that bottom came fast before I could have predicted, because minutes after Nicolo arrived, Sasha's father arrived too, bouquet of beautiful red flowers in hand.

I broke myself. The two people who longed for Sasha most in their lives were standing in front of me, mourning the loss of her young soul. The two people who would hate me the most in the world, standing over my friends's grave. I fell to my knees in front of them and in front of her grave, silently begging for forgiveness.

My tears fell incessantly on the freshly stirred earth as did my fingers, imploring this burden on my chest to dissipate, as if unconsciously I was wishing for Sasha herself to forgive me for letting her die. How could one cope with this heinous feeling? How could I go on, knowing that the world was falling around us, unable to know if the next day we were going to be alive or if Marley would initiate an attack from which we weren’t going to be able to defend ourselves?

My head was racing a thousand per second and the only thing I could let out were those sobs that had accompanied me so much on the way back, the same ones that cradled me to slept, and the tears that so much wanted to dissipate the pain in my soul.

It is said that when a person leaves this world, some people are unable to handle grief, just as they are unable to articulate a word. Apparently I was one of those people.

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Nights and days passed. Those of us who survived the attack on Marley stayed in commune trying to encourage ourselves to continue fighting. Hange had recommended us to rest, since the psychological damage could cause us several injuries in the future, and as for Eren ... we weren’t very aware of him. The last we heard from our commanders is that he was locked away from all human contact, stipulating that it would be better to keep him locked up for a while and let whatever shit that was going through his head dissipate.

But that was complete bullshit. I knew that, even locking him up, they weren't going to be able to change the thoughts that tormented Eren so much. I knew that, whatever was wandering through his mind, he wasn’t letting him alone and he would never let go. How did I know that? Because I spent a whole year trying to get him to let me enter in that shell he has been forming in recent years. I tried very hard to get him to tell me his plan before he went to Marley, but I got nothing, and I still get nothing.

My gaze was lost in the window. The nights grew colder and colder and I hugged my arms as I watched the sunset. The boys were arguing about something, something that Mikasa didn't seem to find funny at all, but my mind wasn’t connected to reality. I just stared out the window, remembering the old days when we'd sneak out to steal a piece of meat from the supply warehouse with Sasha and Connie.

I remembered the nights when the boys sneaked into the women's hut to keep each other warm in our days as recruits. I remembered how Armin let me practice my medicine methods on him when he got hurt, a practice that was lost when he inherited the power of the Colossal Titan.

I remembered how we would escape at dawn, grab a few horses and ride out to the ocean, taking nice cool baths on the warm moonlit summer nights. Now those moments only remained in that, in memories.

"(Y/N) are you listening?"

My gaze detached from the window, now it was fixed on a Connie who looked just as tired of the world as I did. This dwarf turned giant was just as devastated as I was by losing half of him, and yet he was still able to continue fighting alongside our friends.

"We think you might be the most suitable to go talk to Eren"

Armin's calm voice stripped me of any desire to go back to the old moments. I pulled myself away from the window tiredly and let my body unconsciously guide me to one of the couchs in the middle of the room, next to the blonde. Apparently while I was wandering in my thoughts, the tension in the room had reached a point where it could be cut with a simple wave of the hand.

As I sat down, I was able to take a better look at the room. From what I could analyze, the group had divided into two, those who still trusted Eren and those who did not, each with their reasons, and apparently, I was playing the role of mediator. The responsibility fell on me to move the pieces of the board: to talk to our supposed war partner and beg him to tell us about his plans and the demons in his head, or to dethrone him completely.

"What makes you think I can go talk to him?"

My words came out of my mouth colder and sharper than I would’ve liked, but it was the simple truth. If Eren was willing to push each other away to accomplish his task, what was I going to accomplish after a year without having answers to his thoughts?

"I haven't been able to speak to him openly in a year"

Armin and Mikasa gave me completely stunned looks. Not even their childhood friend had told them that his relationship was falling off a cliff.

"I didn't know, I thought you were fine"

"Well, we are not fine at all Armin"

I knew it wasn't fair for Armin to get all my frustration, he wasn't guilty at all. I looked him in the eye and I could find multiple feelings in those huge blue eyes: sadness, compassion, guilt, overwhelm. I knew he was one of the worst going through it, his childhood friend was no longer entirely reliable; he had carried out acts of sheer violence and had become the enemy he hated the most; Armin had become his worst enemy and his eyes clearly showed it.

And it was those same eyes that begged me to do something, to go and talk, to try to figure out the smallest thing we could use to get out of this mess Eren got us into. They implored me to save his soul brother from his mental prison.

I let out a long breath before getting up off the couch and heading to the door.

"I highly doubt that I will achieve anything, but I will try to talk to him"

I took one last look to the guys in front of me before leaving the room, each one wishing me luck and pleading for my well-being with their eyes, and sinking even further into the rabbit hole, or rather, going straight to ventured into the lion's den.

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The road to the dungeons was long and heavy, but not because of the number of blocks and alleys I had to take, but because of what was waiting for me at the end of the road. Upon coming into contact with the stone walls and their semi-armored doors, the blood on my body ran cold, just as it ran cold when we buried Sasha.

The air below the ground was cold, the smell of mold and dirt entered my nostrils, preventing me from taking a couple of steps without feeling like vomiting. The place really needed a better cleaning, otherwise it would be the epicenter of a huge plague.

At the end of the corridor, where the light was dimmer and let the darkness eat much of the cell, was Eren. My heart skipped a beat when I saw him sitting on his supposed bed, staring directly at the wall, or so it seemed; knowing him he was surely lost in his world. I kept my composure, avoiding giving any trace of my emotional and psychological state.

"Hi"

I got no response, as always.

I had the opportunity to inspect his cell, it was quite untidy and dripping with water, coming from the sink which was covered to the top. Unconsciously I prayed that this water was drinkable or at least that it was not too polluted, since I didn’t have to look completely at the brunette in front of me to know he had put his head in that same water.

"I like your hair, looks very smooth"

"What do you want?"

His voice came out calm but imposing and terrifying at the same time, I would be lying if I said I didn’t startle a bit, but I kept my composure as best as possible to avoid showing the fear in my eyes. Eren may not have noticed, but if he did, he was unfazed.

"The guys think that I can talk to you, but I told them they were completely wrong, I mean...we haven't been able to speak like we used to for a year, maybe more"

My words came out of my mouth like the venom of a snake. I couldn't tell if my intention was to make him feel guilty, or at least feel something, to reflect on my words, but guess what… his eyes didn't even leave the wall behind me.

I crossed my arms and rested my body on one of the bars, hoping to have some intimidating way for the damn bastard to decide to speak. Even though bullying wasn't my thing, I, yes, had a tired face and wasn't there to waste my time, but I had to achieve something, get something, whatever, so I could get out of this damn place.

"You know very well that I'm not going to leave until you say something"

His eyes met mine for a few seconds and then returned to their original position. I knew this was going to be difficult, but I couldn't help my irritation growing from my chest. With every minute that passed, the pain in that area was increasing and a lump in the throat was appearing with each tear that I wanted to avoid shedding.

I'd been through shitty days and had to come alone to the exact place I least wanted to be to talk to the person I least wanted to see.

"I'm used to being on my feet for long hours, I can be here all day, and that's exactly what I'm going to do"

I remained planted in front of the cell, positioning myself with crossed arms right in front of his eyes, preventing them from continuing to look at the miserable wall.

But my bad luck wasn't giving me any sign that I was going to win this fight very soon. Although I was covering his peripheral field, his eyes never deigned to look at me, they simply stayed glued to the front, now seeing my body in front, although in reality, he was seeing without seeing.

My patience was running out and this goddamn silent game had only just begun. I had to find something to work with, something that could flicker him or make him angry… anger would not be the best if I wanted to leave with all the bones intact and my already psychological trauma without further damage; but knowing Eren, anger was his fuel, which made him move and in an action-reaction effect, made everyone move together behind him.

That's it. Everyone. But we weren't all here.

Sasha was dead; Reiner, Berthold and Annie traitors and enemies of Paradis; Ymir disappeared and confirmed dead, being inherited by the new jaw titan; the only one missing from our group was our beloved Queen. The Queen that Eren so decided to care for and protect.

"You know, Historia is about to give birth"

It was mild, but I could feel his body tense. His eyes moved just the same slightly, but in those little acts I knew I had struck a chord. And I was willing to use it, even if it meant destroying my sanity and causing one of Eren's greatest worldly anger.

"Wouldn't it be nice to have a little baby on the squad?" I took a deep breath before launching the second impact of the night, preparing to receive whatever blow came next. "After all, it's your child, right?"

His body moved faster than I could ever achieve and my reflexes weren't sharp enough to pull away in time. His hand grabbed my shirt, drawing me towards the bars and hitting my cheeks on each one, now my face was directly in front of him, my field of vision being just his face and finally, his eyes were focused on mine.

"Don't even think about talking about Historia like that"

If looks could kill, surely I would already be dead on the ground. His grip on my chest was strong, he was even capable of ripping the fabric, but with a push back showed me that it wasn’t strong enough, that everything was a facade. I staggered, almost fell to the ground, but either way, I kept my balance and my expression. I was terrified inside, but I forced myself to keep a stoic look at all time, he was trying to play with me and although I was not entirely sure how much there were just words and how much were an act of anger and violence, I couldn’t dedicate myself to having a hint of doubt.

"Easy, Romeo, I know you're not the daddy...or are you?"

I adjusted my clothes, avoiding his gaze because I knew if I stared into his eyes, I would get a much worse look than the one he gave me a few seconds ago.

"Whatever, you gave me something to work with, Historia knows something and didn't tell us...gee, I wonder why"

I leaned my body against the cold stone. My gaze went everywhere, trying to keep avoiding his eyes and incidentally have a stronger support for my figure.

"The Queen doesn’t have to say anything to anyone"

Ohhh, you little shit.

If that's the game you want to play, then you're going to lose.

Even if his words were absolutely right, we shouldn’t forget that, before she was queen, Historia had been our friend during training and the entire year of accumulated trauma between betrayals and deaths. If we could continue to have conversations with her and were invited to participate in political meetings, then we had every right to be informed of the supposed plan that Eren implanted in our queen's mind.

For a moment I was scared by the physical and emotional state of Historia. Was Eren capable of keeping her threatened? Did he say or do anything to keep her quiet? The questions seemed to have no head or tail, but if Eren was able to grab me the way he did, I can't imagine what he could do to keep someone quiet.

"Yes, you are right, in the same way, trust only the queen before your friends... that’s brave"

I searched the corridor and the cell for something I could use to attract his attention again, if it was necessary for me to use violence against him, I would be willing to do it. My eyes met a chain anchored to the wall, quite a long chain, to tell the truth. And on the other side, reaching almost the middle of the corridor, I could make out a rather dirty cloth.

I glanced at Eren who had sat back down on his bed, head down in his hands, and walked down the hall with one goal in mind. I grabbed the cloth and walked back to the cell, standing in front of the bars. I reached out my hand to the sink and started to clean up what was left of the spilled water.

"It's all soaked, incredible that they keep a cell like this"

Without taking my eyes off the sink, I could hear Eren settling on his bed, perhaps sitting upright. I kept running the dirty cloth over the water, honestly I wasn’t achieving much apart from spreading the now dirty water even more, but I had to continue with the facade of an understandable couple.

"It's a complete mess...were Historia's legs like this when you railed her?"

As before, Eren had quickly stood up, ready to grab my hand that was inside the cell, but I was already better prepared. When I felt his fingers touch my wrist, I turned my hand to anchor it on his arm and draw him towards the bars, having that same arm outside the cell. With half body on the cold metal, my other hand grabbed the missing arm and with all my strength I pulled his limbs towards me, causing his body and head to crash against the bars.

"Do you want to do it the hard way? fine, we'll do it the hard way"

Eren tried to shake off my grip, but the adrenaline rushing through my veins prevented him from loosening even a millimeter. I pushed him and pulled him back to me, stretching his arms even further and hitting his head on the metal.

"What's wrong with you?"

Again, a back and forth motion.

"What is going on in your head?"

Back and forth.

"How much shit can you have in your mind that you are not able to tell your friends?"

Back and forth.

"TELL ME FOR FUCK SAKE!!"

With one last impact, I hit Eren's head and heard the fibers and tendons in his shoulders rip, just as his skin began to stretch and break, revealing the flesh and muscle beneath it. Rivers of blood flowed over his arms, dropping to the floor and turning his skin red.

His head was also bleeding to the side, soaking his torso and rebel hair. A pool of blood formed under our feet. I let go of his arms and then grabbed the chain that was on the wall and chained him. Considering the number of times he hab been chained since his fifteen years, I suppose one more time wouldn't do any harm to his already traumatized mind.

When I saw his hands were secure I dropped to the floor, not caring about the blood that now adorned the cold stone floor. I could feel my ass starting to get soggy and sticky from the substance. I would have to burn this pants when I got out of there.

Both my mind and my breath hitched, enveloping the environment. I tried to calm down and clear my mind to continue this hell of interrogation. I knew I shouldn't have agreed, and now look at what situation I was in.

"You know I can transform and use the power of the warhammer titan to get out of here"

Eren seemed withdrawn from his situation, as if bleeding to death didn't matter in the least. Steam came out of his shoulders, a sign that he was in the process of regeneration and prayed that this process would take a long time to materialize.

“I know…” I tried to calm my voice and breath before speaking again “but if you transform now, you would end up killing me, and killing me means betraying the legion, and betraying them means betraying the people of Paradis… you don 't want that, do you? "

My words may sound sly, but inside I was wanting to run out of there, get under the covers of my bed and sleep until the day of doomsday; I was even wishing to die in that sleep.

"I'm going to stay here until I know once and for all what's going on in your head, because I know that whatever shit is in there… it's killing you."

Now we were both looking into each other's eyes, fighting a battle in silence, seeing who would give up first. We held eye contact for a few long minutes, unable to tell how many. Maybe it was a couple, maybe half an hour or even an hour; whatever the time, I was already getting bored.

"If I had known it would take so long, I would have brought something to read"

"What has you so worried that you can't even tell Hange or the heichou?"

My question came reluctantly out of my mouth, as if my ability to fight was fading. I was already very tired and it seemed like days since I entered the dungeons.

"Noone would be able to understand"

"Oh please! Don't take me for a fool. Do you think that none of them are battling their own inner demons? Do you think that only you can have intrusive thoughts to fight against?"

His comment irritated me to the core. I never found Eren such a selfish person, and to think that a year or so ago he was declaring his unconditional affection to all of his comrades.

What happened in the last year? What changed?

"Each one of them has to face their own internal wars every day"

Before my anger got the best of me, I took a few small breaths, calming myself. I wasn't going to put me on the same level of hatred and misunderstanding as him, even if it meant throwing away all the years we were together.

"Historia surely has to fight against the stress and the multiple responsibilities that being a queen entails, apart from fighting against the offensive comments of the military police"

Maybe the island has been rid of Titans for a long time, but that didn’t take away the fact that shitty people, like those who lived on the Wall Sina, decided to try and continue controlling the poor people who were split the loin so those ungrateful would have a feast every night.

"Connie is struggling every day against losing his other half, his twin"

Connie, Jean, everyone ... EVERYONE! We were fighting and suffering the mourning of Sasha, of our teammates.

"Shit, surely Jean is still struggling with the memory of Marco after so many years"

Yes. No one had forgotten Marco, especially Jean. But we had to learn to keep going on that very day, we couldn't afford to get sentimental and spoil the next missions. From that day on we learned to watch over our dead mates in silence.

"I fight every day against my incompetence"

And now was the time that I could begin to veil my demons once and for all.

Already my body was begging to rest. I had laid my head on the wall and fixed my gaze on the ceiling. I heard the chains move at my side, a sign that Eren was moving, but I didn't have the strength to look him in the face.

"I fight every day against the image of Sasha dying in my hands"

I know that memory is going to haunt me until the day I die.

"I fight every day against the memories of our comrades dying in battle"

I saw countless deaths throughout the year 850, so many that I decided to use my knowledge in medicine to help even to stop a bleeding. I still remember the first suture I made to a mate already lost in battle ... I was so excited, so happy to be of such help.

"I fight every day against the idea of ​​not being enough"

But that exaltation led to thousands of failures. People who had bled internally, who had lost an arm and couldn’t get to cauterize, hundreds who had lost half their stomach or head.

"I fight every day against our enemies on the other side of the sea"

I wasn't going to deny it, learning the pure and exclusive truth of the world, I couldn't help but feel a deep hatred for the Marleyans. I wanted them to pay for the countless deaths and suffering they had caused, I wanted to see them burn, but at the same time I wanted a reasonable explanation.

"I fight the memories of the titans devouring our friends"

Memories of the first day in battle, right at our graduation, when we thought that nothing could happen. How naive we were. And to think that that was just the beginning of a long list of events that would bring us to this moment.

"I fight every day along side with the memories of the team escaping from the base and messing it up to enjoy the summer nights"

Memories of when we would sneak into the palace and take Historia with us, enjoying the air in our faces and running in the valleys of the countryside. Memories of when we ran cows for some strange reason at the beginning of the day.

Memories of when we were racing with the 3D movement gear through the great forests outside the city. Memories of the occasional punch in the face against the bark of a tree for not knowing where we were going.

"I fight every day against the image of the big bright turquoise eyes that I fell in love with"

My gaze fell on those same eyes, but instead of finding the description that I wanted to see so much, I only found grayish green eyes, eyes that had lost all their brilliance.

I found eyes full of tiredness and anger for the world. The brilliance that so characterized Eren had been lost; now I would have to settle for a blank stare.

"I fight every day ... against the memory of our return to the rooms and Levi punishing us for weeks"

My voice was breaking as I remembered the nights when only Eren and I would sneak out to spend quality time alone. Those nights where we would lie down to see the stars or to lose ourselves in each other in some meadow.

I look at my hands, they were shaking. I couldn't help but remember the first night we spent together, back then I was shaking too, but Eren's hands on my cheeks dispelled any doubt or fear that I could ever have. I unconsciously smiled at the fond memory and I think Eren did too, as I heard a little laugh coming from him.

But no matter how much smiles and laughter the memories gave me, I had to go on and face the world that was now in front of me.

"I fight every day ... against the idea of ​​running towards you, towards your arms"

Those arms that one day gave me warmth. Those arms that one day hugged and covered me the moment I found out that a mate had died. Those strong arms that I knew were going to protect me from any harm.

"I fight against the hope that this is all a nightmare, that you are going to cradle me in your arms and tell me that everything is going to be fine, that it was just a bad dream"

My gaze returned to his, now filled with tears. It hurt, the cruel truth hurt a lot.

"I fight against the desire to stay by your side"

Eren's face was dark, he had returned to how he was at the beginning, without any trace of that soft laugh I heard a few seconds ago.

"I fight with my inner voice that tells me that everything will be fine, that in a few years it will not hurt as much as it does now"

Maybe ... maybe I can start over and when all this nefarious war is over I can find peace, once and for all, and enjoy my friends.

"I fight to move on"

...

"I fight every day...against you"

That was it.

I stood up heavily, wiping the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand. The blood on the floor was already dry and had left the entire back of my pants stained. I hadn't noticed that the air had been permeated with the iron smell of blood, making my vomiting reflex worse, even though I had avoided it in a good way all this time.

"If you want to free yourself from this cell, go ahead, I'm not going to stop you"

His figure was already fully regenerated and I knew it was a matter of time before he transformed and left this filthy place. Eren might trust what he was doing was the right thing to do, but if he didn’t accept that in the eyes of the world, that in our eyes, his friends, the only family he had left, couldn’t understand his actions, then there wasn’t much to ask from him.

If he wanted to betray us, let him do it.

“Do what you have to do to fulfill your dream, I don't care anymore. But don't expect for me to sit around and wait for you"

"Are you planning to go to the other side of the sea?"

What a stupid and dubious question at the same time. Was I willing to leave my life in Paradis to start over even in the lands of the enemy?

No, not at all. Why I was no traitor.

"No Eren, I am not going to Marley, my family is here...but you are no longer part of it"

Those words hurt, but they needed to be said; that way I could already start to heal.

"Is that all you have to say?"

I couldn't tell if his words were mocking or a sincere question. But yes, it was all I had to say. I couldn't spend another minute in front of someone I didn't even know anymore.

"It's all I can bear"

I took one last look at the prisoner in the cell before turning and continuing down the long corridor of the dungeons.

"Are you leaving so soon? I thought I heard you would stay as long as it takes for me to speak"

As I reached the door, I took a deep breath of the foul smell of the environment. My hand lay on the doorknob and was half open when his words reached my ears. There was no need to shout from a distance, the echo of the stones made it easy for me to hear the smallest whisper of the perpetrator. I opened the door, but not before dedicating my last words.

"Goodbye Jaeger"

And behind me, I closed the door.

[multistanismsarchive]

In the Morning | Ateez

FANDOM: Ateez

PAIRING: YeosangxSan, HongjoongxWooyoung

WORD COUNT: 4417

RATING: Everyone

POTENTIAL TRIGGERS: Mentions of abuse, violent thoughts, 

SUMMARY: He left life as a mafia prince with little to keep him going but a promise. It seems perhaps fate has other plans.

Part One | Part Two

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

The night air was crisp as a dark clad figure moved quietly from the shadows of the property towards the large mansion filled with lights and music. Summer was beginning to fade into fall, and the weather was just on the other side of chilly. The job was one he had done several times, the life of a mercenary was like that. Yet this job, unlike any other, had him on edge. The heightened alert came because unlike any other assignment he had taken on, this one was a risk he hadn’t thought he would ever have to take. Because he knew the target, had called them one of his best friends. He had grown up to know those in the inner workings before he’d forgone it all after a terrible argument. ‘It’s what happens when you take on a job based on pay alone.’ he thought, dark hair falling just slightly into his face as he climbed through the shadows, clad in a dark blue outfit with a hood of the velvet cape up to hide his features. He absolutely could not be caught, because, the consequences if he does? 

San doesn’t know how he would handle running into his old life if anyone got too close and realized he was alive and present at such an event. 

He makes his way into the event from a large patio that leads into the very well tended garden. The terracotta stones that made the shape were familiar; the summer home of the Kim family. Tonight was a celebration; the former head of the Kim family would be stepping down and Hongjoong, one of the family’s more talented children, would be taking over family and business affairs alike, though really they were one ad the same. Hongjoong wasn’t tall like his father, but San knew that he could be just as ruthless when it came to the family business. Despite the anxiety over being there to kill the man, there was a kind of homesick ache in San’s chest as he slipped in among the party goers in their own masquerade attire, tugging the hood back so as not to look suspicious. San himself was dressed to match the overall attire theme. A form fitting ensemble reminiscent of a vampire, no tie with the first two buttons of the shirt undone, a dark velvet of midnight blue hooded cape adorning his shoulders. 

Eyes were decorated with contacts that changed his dark gaze into a vibrant poison green, the carefully chosen masquerade outfit fitting his form perfectly. This was once his life, lavish gatherings due to his father, idle chit chat and more often than not, stolen kisses in shadowed hallways. Sneaking off to do something fun with friends instead of listening to boring adult conversations. He was once part of eight; a kind of band of brothers; children of the most prominent families. As a kid, San had thought he would have seven brothers, but in time that became six brothers and one lover. That deviance was what worried San, because his leaving had everything and yet nothing to do with that lover. His mind is whirling with the consequences if he's identified, and when he hears a voice, he's stunned into freezing.

"Your costume is divine."

‘Fuck.’ San knows that voice; the eldest of the friends he left behind. Park Seonghwa. 

San has to calm himself as he turns, a charming smile curving his lips. Seonghwa is wearing an outfit akin to a pirate, white cloth accenting a leather corset as the male sported pink hair and a black and gold mask reminiscent of a pair of wings. It has a feminine tone to it, but it's something Seonghwa has always been able to pull off. It stuns San now more than ever that his little band of friends have such beautiful visuals, but can be so cruel and detached when need be. Such is the life of being connected to the mafia. San gives a hum as he gives a slight bow, cape wisping around his arm in the movement. "You're quite the sight as well, sir." he mused, giving a faint curve of his lips.

  “Thank you. It’s a match to our new leader.” Seonghwa answers. “He announces his left and right hands tonight, as well as finally revealing the person he intends to marry.”

“Oh? Who is the lucky person?”

“Everyone knows them. I’ve been sworn to keep it a secret, until the torch is officially passed on.” Seonghwa gives a little bow, holding out his hand. “Might I have this dance, darling?”

San knows he shouldn’t. This life wasn’t his anymore, but he missed his friends. He missed feeling like he belonged somewhere. And, well, San knew that Hongjoong and Seonghwa had once been in a kind of ambiguous relationship of sorts. Perhaps that was the secret engagement. It would make sense, and San didn’t want to think about that knowledge. That knowledge brought hope, and a reminder of brown eyes and dark hair with soft touches. But there was no returning to that life, of that San was certain. His father would end him if he even spotted him at the gathering. His brief moment of distraction gives Seonghwa the opportunity to grab his hand and pull him towards the dance floor. “Are you sure you should be dancing with a stranger?” San asks, head cocking to one side as he settles into the dance with the taller male.

“Is anyone really a stranger here?” Seonghwa asks in return. “This crowd has been the same since I was a child, all that’s changed is ages.” 

The chuckle that passes through San’s lips is both involuntary and can be read a number of ways. His next words are meant to play that sound as a kind of stereotypical belief. “I suppose being a part of this world your whole life will have that effect.” There’s a low hum as Seonghwa holds him close and they move, and San finds a familiarity in it. The eight of them would dance with each other all the time in the past, taking turns making onlookers question and be amused at their antics. 

“Without a doubt, it will numb one to the chatter.” Seonghwa answered, tilting his head. “You have quite the affinity for dancing.” he commented. 

“My parents insisted I know dances from all over the world.” San said vaguely, deciding to twist it so he wasn’t as obvious. “I traveled with my parents a lot, and my mother wanted me to be prepared should we come across anyone of note.” 

“I wish I could say the same. Myself and most of my friends only had each other and whichever nanny was assigned to whichever of us was hosting. We’re a band of brothers, no doubt.” Seonghwa replied, going quiet for a moment before his eyes found San’s. “You know, you remind me of one of our dear friends we lost.” The weight in Seonghwa’s words weigh on San’s mind as he hums inquisitively. Did they truly miss him?

“When did they die?”

“He didn’t, as far as we’re concerned. He just went missing. We believe his father was an idiot and drove him away. It’s a tragedy, really.” He shakes his head a little. “Not a day goes by that we don’t search for him.” San can’t help but feel the sadness in Seonghwa’s tone, bright green eyes watching the older’s face. “No one has taken it as hard as Yeosang, though.”

“Kang Yeosang?”

“Yes. Though few outside of our friends knew for certain, he and San were a divine pair.” Seonghwa answered with a nod. “I think Yeosang blames himself for San’s disappearance.” 

“Why would he blame himself?” It’s an honest question, because San knows why he left, but he’d never said anything about what led up to it. 

“We don’t know, honestly. All we know is that San’s father was reprimanded after attacking him. Any details into why we don’t know. Yeosang doesn’t talk about it.” Seonghwa answered, and if he sees the rage gathered in San’s gaze, he doesn’t mention it.

“What kind of monster attacks a friend of their child?” San asks, anger shifting his tone. 

“I wish I knew. But regardless, it pains me to see Yeosang so distraught all the time. He just isn’t the same.”

“Distraught?” San asked, frowning a little. “Did this San vanish recently?”

“Oh, no. San went missing just over five years ago. Yeosang just hasn’t shown much interest in things since he left.”

The music picks a terrible time to end, because those words take a moment to sink in and as it does, the implication behind it hits him in the stomach so hard he has to fight to stay standing. Five years. Five years that Yeosang and the others have looked for him. It’s a long time to wait and wonder, and San finds his head spinning as his resolve to do this hit falters yet again. He can’t help but look around as they move from the dance floor, seeking out the dark haired prince of the Kang family. Had Yeosang really held on to their youthful promise they’d made so many times growing up? He knows he’s caught when Seonghwa laughs quietly.

  “Keen on trying to change his mind?” 

“Maybe I am. If the rumors are true, Yeosang is one of the most beautiful people in our world.” It’s said with an air of distraction, and San isn’t sure if Seonghwa believes him. His search is halted by a champagne tumblr being handed to him from a tray passing by. Green eyes meet brown and Seonghwa gives a little bow. 

“Do enjoy the party, dearest. I must return to my leader.” The parting words spoken, San is helpless but to watch Seonghwa leave, and he finds himself in such a hard place that it’s hard to get his mind right. He was here to fulfill a contract, and as he stood to the side, he couldn't quite clear his head to reach that point. These boys were his family; Hongjoong and Seonghwa had always been the unspoken leaders, their protectors and more like parents than most of their actual parents. And Yeosang…

Yeosang was an angel. His angel. He had always been beautiful, and even though appearance was a factor, it wasn't what had always drawn San to him. It had been the way Yeosang saw their world. The pair were two sides of a coin, and late night conversations hadn't been uncommon. The only person as close to San as Yeosang was Wooyoung, who had unwittingly (as far as San and Yeosang were aware) poured gasoline on the spark of passion between them. But there had never been anything but pure love between he and Yeosang, San would give the world to the older male. San’s mind is reeling as he lets his eyes wander, very aware of the danger and risks. Should he finish this job? Is he truly capable of it? Can he really destroy the lives of the few people he actually cares about? Why did it have to be Hongjoong?

‘Why am I here?’

It’s a thought that has San slinking into the corner of the room where lights don’t reach as well, champagne flute left on a passed table as he finds his way into some semblance of privacy in the corner. He leans back against the wall, arms crossing over himself as he tries to think. Agreeing to talk to the messenger about the assignment, saying he can handle it, was it a lie? Why had he let himself be distracted by the bittersweet nostalgia of a life he had so angrily abandoned? In hindsight, none of the boys he knew were responsible for the actions of his own father, and even though he knows his father holds little to no bearing or influence on anything that involves the families any longer, it’s still a fear. Returning to this life, to his friends, to the one person he would die for if asked? It’s so many questions and not enough answers in his head and he’s painfully aware that the window he has to act if he plans to collect the payout is closing quickly. A hush spreading through the mass of guests drags San from his mind and he looks towards where the guests have turned their attention, and it was easy to spot where Hongjoong and his father were. And seeing his friend, the confidence and power that Hongjoong exuded, broke the will San had to end his life. The eight of them had always talked about causing change, forcing it when the time came. All the plans laid out over years of childhood together, and tonight Hongjoong was one step closer to that, a goal all of them felt was a necessary event to really keep the power of the families from being taken away. Still hidden among the back wall’s shadows, San watched as Hongjoong’s father began speaking. 

“Hello and good evening, my dear friends and associates,” the speech began. “I want to thank each and every one of you for attending tonight’s celebration.” The table the man stood behind was elegantly decorated to match the theme of the party, and Hongjoong stood to his right, his outfit matching Seonghwa’s attire in color scheme as well as a pirate like design. San found amusement in the idea of his friends dressed as pirates on the night Hongjoong took over control. Was it some kind of foreshadowing, had all their plans become a scheme to bring about the change all of them had wanted? He takes in the way Hongjoong stands so tall, patient as his father speaks. “Tonight, the Kim family passes to a new head of family. It is an honor to pass the title to my son Hongjoong, as he will continue to honor the legacy of the Kim name.” There’s more to the speech, and San takes his time to push off the wall and get closer in order to look around the room and try to find the others of his group. 

Yunho was off to one side in a large chair, the cream and black colors shaping his outfit as well. Where Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s outfits were more clean cut with a few frayed ends and nuances, Yunho’s had frays that brought more life to the pirate aesthetic. The male’s dark hair was unstyled, and he had another male sitting on one arm - which upon more examination San realized was Mingi; the one most considered to be the gentle giant. Mingi’s attire had a kind of abandoned military feel to it, the black jacket hung open and distressed to reveal the cream colored shirt beneath. He was holding a glass of his own, watching where Hongjoong stood. Another sweep of the room gives him sight of Seonghwa standing near Wooyoung, who was clinging to Jongho like a little kid, which wasn’t surprising. Wooyoung was chaotic but meant well, always affectionate and forcing playful banter on everyone to lighten the mood of their often boring life. Looking around gave San pause, however. He took a longer moment to rescan faces, but still someone was missing. Yeosang. 

Had he even attended the party? Why would he not be there to see Hongjoong take the throne? It was something all of them had talked about so fiercely. Was that why the hit had been planned for tonight? Was seeing their dream finally happen without San here too much for him? The questions that surfaced in the realization that Yeosang wasn’t there stopped when applause erupted, and San realized that Hongjoong was now being given the floor. Green eyes found focus as the older male began to talk, unable to keep himself from smiling as Hongjoong stood tall and held his glass like a gentleman. 

“Hello, friends.” he began, confidence in both his stance and power in his tone. "Tonight marks a celebration for all the families. It is my honor to take the Kim name to greater heights, bring more allies and handle enemies both old and new alike. Every generation has had a hierarchy to replace the old. As the official torch isn't passed until this is announced, I will be revealing them this evening." The swelling murmurs of approval was no surprise for San, if he was honest. Most of the people were only present to see who they needed to stay in good graces with. Though they should all have known by now that the Horizon Boys, as he and the others had been called since they were teens, were like a little family all their own. To insult or harm one was to do so to all eight of them. San, however, was highly intrigued. Whatever seemed to be brewing with his friends, it obviously required filling the necessary ranks. 

"I'd find it strange if any of you were surprised or shocked by the choice of my right hand." Hongjoong continued when the murmuring had died down. "The natural person for me to pick is Park Seonghwa."

"Of course dad would pick mom." San whispered to himself, chuckling. Hongjoong and Seonghhwa - with or without intimate relations - were undoubtedly the parents of their little group. San more than dared to think that perhaps the two older men were better parental figures than any of their own parents, he believed it with his whole heart. He watched with pride as Seonghwa stepped up, taking his place to the right of Hongjoong. To see their dream coming true in person makes San feel safe, warm, and he knows he could never hurt his leader. He could never hurt any one of his friends. He doesn't think as he lifts the glass he holds, unaware that the select few who mimic the action are others of their group. Hongjoong smiles out at the gathering, nodding before his voice rang out again. 

"My left hand, which may surprise some, is our dear Jeong Yunho." Hongjoong declared, and the mix of reactions was obvious but in a way that was positive. Before the noise of that died down, Hongjoong pressed on in his speech. "Most, if not all of you, are aware that just over five years ago, we lost someone very dear to us. Our beloved San, Choi San, went missing suddenly. While his father is no longer associated with our families, San is always welcome. We hope that one day, San will return to us." The words don't surprise San. He never really wanted to go, but it was safer for his friends...or so he'd thought. The revelation about his father attacking Yeosang makes his blood boil. Not a day passes that he doesn't want to return, to be with his friends, to see Yeosang smile. What catches him, hits him in the chest with emotion hard enough that he fights the urge to double over, is the sad acknowledgement from what sounds like everyone gathered in the ballroom. Was his presence missed that much? He didn't have time to dwell as Hongjoong began speaking once more. "My goal as leader of the families, besides bringing more strength and new allies, is to bring about change. A change that has for several generations been whispered in hallways and demonized for public view. We have lived in the old world for far too long, and the only way to truly survive as a unit is to be adaptable. To not only welcome change, but to be among those who start it." The air had a slight chill of unease as Hongjoong continued, but San himself was curious. "With that in mind, I want all of you to know, all those who follow to know, that I want each and every one of you to be comfortable with who you are. And to prove this, I would like to present my fiancé to all of you this evening." Hongjoong's smile was so happy, so genuine and proud, that San couldn't help but smile himself. A hand held out and several people whispered in curiosity around him, wondering who it was. A startled gasp escaped near one side and San tilted his head in the direction. It took a few more seconds, but the grin that curved his lips was pure happiness. Coming up to the front was Wooyoung, despite what had to be nerves. The look on the face of Hongjoong's father was the best of all; shook and clearly hiding that he was upset at his son's choice but now had no say in the matter. Yunho made room for Wooyoung, both he and Seonghwa stepping back to give the pair room, and Hongjoong laced his fingers with the younger male and lifted their hands to kiss the back of Wooyoung's hand. It was undeniably beautiful, not just because of the message, but because Hongjoong was finally confirming the rumor of his lack of preference when it came to gender. The room fell into a thunder of applause and cheers, and San indulged himself as he, too, clapped for his friends. 

It was all stripped away, however, by the feeling of a blade at his back and a hand at his throat. 

He went stone still, breath hitching into an uneven rhythm as he was led out of the room and into the hall that led further into the mansion. The moment the doors click, however, San reacts. One hand slips behind him to smack the blade down, and he drops down on one knee, catching himself as he swings his other leg out, which catches his attacker enough off guard that they stumble away. San turned, drawing his own knife and twirling it between his fingers. Adrenaline is pumping through him as his chest heaves a little and he stares at the figure in the shadows.

"I knew it was you."

It's a voice that makes San's heart leap into a quickened rhythm as much as it causes his blood to run cold. There's only one other person who could be as ruthless as Hongjoong and Seonghwa. One person who would have - should have - no problem putting him down. 

"Yeosang." There's a mix of emotion in San's voice because he isn't sure if this is a happy reunion or tragic. Even shadowed, now that his eyes are adjusting too the darker halls inside the actual manor, he can make out Yeosang's features, the fact that dark hair is bleached into a beautiful blonde with the roots beginning to show. He's as beautiful as ever, and San knows he would be okay dying at hands of the man he loves now more than ever.

Yeosang kneels to sheath his blade back against his boot, straightening and watching San. "We wondered if you'd show." His voice is a balm to San, even with it's softer tone. San is loath to admit that it takes longer than he would like for the words to process because he's still admiring the older male. 

"Excuse me?"

There's a quiet laugh that passes Yeosang's lips, which only adds to San's confusion. "That bounty on Joong was fake. We put it together in secret in hopes of having someone find you, but then Joong heard a rumor that you were doing mercenary work."

"Fancy words. Can't say they're wrong, though. I didn't kill so much as be a thief." San replied. "How did you find out how to contact me specifically?" 

"Come now, you know Wooyoung and Yunho are technical wizards." Yeosang scoffed, the sound amused as he steps closer. "We wanted to bring you home, Sannie." 

The word hits San in the chest like Hongjoong's speech had. Home. Whether any of the others are aware, they're his home. Yeosang is his home. "How did you know I was here?"

Yeosang smirks at him, now standing in front of him. "If you think for a moment that five years is long enough for me to forget how you move, my love, you'll find yourself sadly mistaken. I knew it was you the moment you came in from the veranda." It's news that shakes San in all good ways. Yeosang never forgot him, or their promise. He smiles tenderly as Yeosang speaks again. "Seonghwa took it upon himself to dance with anyone they suspected, but it was for naught. I'd know you anywhere." He laughed a little at the expense of his friends, and San is unable to keep from chuckling along. 

"If you were so certain-"

"I wish I'd have gotten to dance with you first." Yeosang cuts him off, effectively silencing any thought San had been trying to say. "The others missed you, but no one missed you the way I did."

"I left to try and protect you." San explained. "When I told my father I wanted to marry you, he threatened to kill us both. He wanted me gone, Sangie, and I thought leaving would keep you out of his range." His hand lifted to rest along Yeosang's cheek, and despite not being one to show public affection often, the blonde leaned into it and closed his eyes. 

"He blamed me for you leaving." Yeosang whispered. "I fought him about it, verbally. Called him out on being a trash father who just wanted to control everything, even how you felt. I told him he could never hope to know love like we do." The laugh that escapes him is a sad sound. "I guess I took it too far."

"No, you didn't, angel. If he couldn't accept his responsibility for my leaving, then you had every right to put him in his place." San countered, making sure his eyes were locked on Yeosang's. "When Seonghwa said you'd been hurt, I wanted to kill him. I wanted to find you and apologize. I-" he stops as a finger is placed to his lips, and it falls silent between them for what feels like an hour. 

"Don't you ever think you have to apologize to me. You left to try and protect me, San. You put yourself through so much to do so. Don't apologize for that, ever. Okay?" 

"You're oddly soft." San teased, letting his thumb stroke over Yeosang's cheek. 

"You came back to me, San." Yeosang answered. "You kept your promise to come back. It took a long time, sure, but you're home. Of course I'm in a soft mood."

[give-seconds]

I Love You

This is part two of my Jisung fic for A Vibe collab! If you haven’t read part one, here it is!

Paring: Jisung x genderneutral reader

Warnings: Death of a parent

Summary: In which you’ve been obsessed with the idea of meeting your soulmate since you were born, but your soulmate doesn’t think the same.

Word count: 19.9k

---

It’s been a month and a half since you found out Jisung was your soulmate. It took a week of Chenle’s magic counseling (his words, not yours) until you were able to stop avoiding him and Jaemin. Chenle made you realize that even if they had something now, Jisung was your soulmate. The more you got to know each other, the easier it would be for you two in the future. No matter how far away that future is.

After that week, you had to slowly condition yourself to be around them. It wasn’t easy at first, and it took you a few days to be able to look Jaemin in the eyes. Even though it took a month for you to be semi-normal with them again, they never pushed you to spend time with them. Of course, they still made offers for you to join for certain activities, and Jaemin made sure to let you know you didn’t have to do anything you weren’t comfortable doing.

In short, you quickly realized what Jisung saw in him. If you didn’t know who your soulmate was, you might have wished he were your soulmate.

“If you were to give someone an ‘I’m sorry I’ve been so weird lately, but thanks for being so understanding’ gift, what would you give them?” you ask into the phone.

“I don’t know, man. If you ask me, you don’t even need to get them anything,” Chenle answers.

“But you don’t understand,” you sigh, picking up a bar of chocolate and flipping it over to look at the back, “I’ve been so distant from them. They’re my only friends here, and I’m thankful they didn’t drop me after I left during that first lunch. I mean, I ghosted them for like a week or two. If I were them, I would’ve dropped me.”

“Okay, okay, I get your point. Get them a flower or just a card. Oh, offer to buy them lunch.”

“I already got them lunch, but I want to give them something more. So maybe a plant or something?”

“Unless you don’t like plants.”

“Why would you say that?” you laugh, stepping to the side of the aisle to try and stand more out of the way.

“I don’t know! Just buy them a fake one. That way, if they like plants, they can have one that looks like one. If they don’t like them, then they don’t have to worry about keeping it alive.”

“Have I ever told you how useless you are in these situations?”

“What can I say? I’ve never been in this situation before. So you have fun, and I’m going to enjoy sitting at home with my ice cream.”

“Completely, utterly useless.”

“If you’re done hurting my feelings,” he says, and you hear the sound of clinking as he picks a spoon from the drawer, “I have ice cream to get back to.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Fine. Abandon me, like you always do.”

He chuckles. “Finally, I can’t wait to be rid of you.”

You smile to yourself, rolling your eyes at his words. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Was that your soulmate?”

You jump, spinning around to meet the person behind you, hand held against your chest. “Why did you do that?”

Jisung smiles. “I had to let you know I was here somehow.”

“And just saying ‘hi’ was too hard?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “There’s no spark in that.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “There’s a reason Jaemin and you get along so well, and I think that’s a big part of it. But uh—” you look away from him, turning your body to look at the same bar you looked at earlier “—no, that wasn’t my soulmate. Just my best friend.”

He nods, his eyes wandering around the aisle. “You two seem close. And before you worry too much, my English isn’t good enough to follow the rest of the conversation I heard, which wasn’t much to begin with.”

You smile softly, not taking your eyes away from the chocolate. “We are. We grew up together. He’s in China now, so I don’t see him that much,” you place the bar back on the self, turning to smile at him, “but I make sure to call him often so he can’t forget me.”

It shocked you for a second, Jisung asking you if someone else was your soulmate. You forgot for a second that you are the only one between you two who knows of the connection between you two.

“Sounds about right. If Jaemin moved to another country, I think I’d do about the same thing.”

“I’m glad you understand.”

“So what are you doing here?” he asks, changing the subject.

“Oh, I’m looking for a gift to give my classmate. It’s his birthday coming up, but I don’t know him that well, so I was thinking of a plant? Do you like plants?”

He tilts his head from side to side. “Eh, kind of. I like how they make a room look though; they definitely spice things up.”

“Well, how about, if you’re not busy, you come and help me pick one out? His personality kind of reminds me of a mixture of you and Jaemin.”

“Sure. I was just here looking because I’m bored, so it’s not like I’m in a rush.”

“Weird, but okay.”

“Says you!" he exclaims, following you as you leave the aisle and walk towards the plant section. "You’re here buying a plant for a guy you barely know.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

---

“Hey y/n, on Friday, Jaemin and I are going camping to celebrate the end of summer. Would you like to come with us?”

After you gave them the apology plants, Jaemin and Jisung had, of course, accepted your apology. It had turned more emotional than you thought it would, with Jisung telling you he didn’t have a lot of friends outside of you and Jaemin, and he was thankful you still wanted to stay friends. Jaemin agreed, saying he was worried they had pushed you away. He further went on to call you stupid and say you had nothing to apologize for.

“For how long are you thinking?” you ask, not looking up from the table you are wiping down.

“Just for the weekend,” Jisung answers, spinning himself on one of the stools that sat at the counter. “We’d be back Sunday night.”

You nod your head, dropping the rag back into the bucket and grabbing the spray that sat next to it. “Yeah, that sounds fun. How far out are we going?”

“It’s about three hours away. But Jaemin is going to borrow his friend’s car, so we don’t have to take a bus or anything. He’ll be our personal driver.”

You snort, shaking your head slightly as you walk into the backroom to put the cleaning supplies away. “Sounds good,” you yell.

“It’ll be fun,” he yells back so you can hear him. “We’ll all share one tent, and I'll be sure to put you in the middle so you feel safe and sound."  

“Tell me why that makes me feel more unsafe?” you ask, leaning on the counter next to him.

He shrugs, smiling innocently. “Because you have an active imagination and a low opinion of us.”

You pretend to think for a second before nodding your head in agreement. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

---

“You guys will never guess what just happened,” Jaemin exclaims, drawing your attention away from the card game in front of you.

“Sounds like the walk to the main office was more exciting than I thought it would be,” you joke, placing your cards face down on the metal table.

“Yeah,” Jisung answers, placing his cards on the table opposite yours. “I thought Y/n teaching me how to play spoons would be the most eventful thing, given it is the most stressful card game I have—”

“You’re just weak. Spoons is the best game—”

“You’re a psycho.”

“Psycho!”

“I’m hijacking this conversation to bring the attention back to me,” Jaemin interrupts, taking a seat next to Jisung. “Are you ready to hear the best thing to ever happen to me?”

You smile, happy to see your friend practically vibrating from happiness. “Yes, Jaemin, don’t keep us waiting any longer.”

“Are you ready Jisung?” he asks, hugging his arm excitedly.

“Yes, yes I am,” he laughs, trying to pull his arm away.

“Okay, okay,” he takes a deep breath, shifting his eyes between you and Jisung, “I met my soulmate while at the main office.”

You immediately look over to Jisung, watching as his smile slips off his face, watching again as he forcibly puts it back on.

“That’s great, Hyung. I’m so happy for you.”

“Yeah, Jaemin,” you force your gaze away from Jisung to look at Jaemin, smiling softly at him, “that’s great. What are they like?”

You’re thankful Jaemin can’t see the sad look in Jisung’s eyes or hear the forced happiness. You know Jisung must be hurt, and as his friend, you can’t help but feel bad for him—even if he is your soulmate.

“She’s absolutely wonderful,” he gushes, hugging Jisung’s arm tighter. “She’s here with her friends, and she was going to the main office when I was on my way back. Up until now, I didn’t know what my mark was. But when I made eye contact with her, everything except her lost its color. She was literally the light of my life for five seconds.”

You smile, the soulmate enthusiast in you pushing away the pain you feel for Jisung. “That sounds beautiful Jaemin, congratulations.”

“Thank you y/n! Also, and if it’s okay with you two, I was going to take her to dinner tonight to get to know her better. Is that okay?”

“Of course, have fun on your date Jaemin.”

Jisung nods his head, effectively pulling his arm away from Jaemin. “Yeah, go have fun Hyung.”

Jaemin smiles widely, pulling Jisung into a hug. “Thank you both so much. I know I set out to find us a dinner place and am now leaving you, and this is our first day here, but I’ll send you a list of some nice places that are within walking distance. And if you don’t want to go out, we have food in the cooler.”

Jisung nods his head, smiling sadly. “Yeah yeah, we got it Hyung. Go have fun.”

He nods his head, smiling brightly as he stands up from the table. “Okay, thank you both so much. I’ll see you when I get back.

You wave as he jogs out of your campsite and somewhere to the left.

After Jaemin leaves, silence falls over you two. When you turn to look at Jisung, he’s staring in the direction Jaemin had run off in. Your heart breaks at the sight of his watery eyes, knowing it must feel more or less what you felt when you found out about Jisung being your soulmate.

You clear your throat, picking your cards up and combining them with the deck. “I’m not feeling very well. Are you okay if we stop playing?”

He wordlessly nods his head, not taking his eyes away from the spot. “My head is killing me; I think I’m going to go to the tent and sleep.” He turns his attention to you, weakly smiling. “Are you okay with that?”

You nod your head, smiling back at him. “Yeah, of course.”

He nods his head, a faraway look in his eyes, as he stands up from the table and makes his way to the tent.

---

Of course, this had to happen on what was meant to be a fun trip with his friends. He knew Jaemin would never love him back—that was something he had been slowly telling himself. This was too much too fast, though. He isn’t ready to lose Jaemin yet.

He pulls his knees close to his body, hugging his sleeping bag closer to him. He wants to cry, but he knows he can’t. It had taken him months to come to terms with himself and his bisexuality, but he doesn’t know if he’s ready to tell anyone else. He had gotten so used to telling Jaemin everything it felt weird that there was something more he was hiding from him.

He’s thankful you’re not questioning his sudden change in attitude. That is if you even noticed.

He squeezes his eyes shut, taking deep breaths to try and keep the tears from falling. He feels so alone, and he knows that if he just manned up and asked for help, he wouldn’t feel like this.

Taking a deep breath, he sits up enough to pull his phone out of his backpack. Laying back down, he turns on his phone and scrolls until he finds the one person he knows can make him feel better.

“Jisung-ah! To what do I owe this pleasure?”

He smiles at his mom’s bright voice, and when he closes his eyes, he can imagine her face. “Nothing, I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. It’s a nice day, and I just wanted to call my mother.”

“Don’t insult my motherly skills,” she says sternly, and Jisung snorts at her response. “Now, tell me what’s wrong before I force it out of you.”

“Now, how would you do that?”

“Park Jisung, don’t change the subject.”

He sighs, the fake smile he put up to try and convey a happy attitude falling. “There’s nothing wrong, so to say, I just set myself up to get my feelings hurt and have to deal with the consequences.”

“There’s no way it’s that black and white. How did you set yourself up?”

“I—” he cuts himself off, debating what he can and can't tell her. He couldn’t tell her he fell for his best friend. She would know right away that he was talking about Jaemin. “I started to like someone who wasn’t my soulmate. Then today, she found her soulmate.”

“Oh, Jisung,” she whispers, and he can feel the sympathy in her voice.

Would she still care if she really knew who it was? The thought alone was enough to make tears fall from his eyes.

“It’ll be okay. At least the bandaid was ripped right off, right?”

“Yeah,” he sniffles. “I just wish I had more time to prepare for the bandaid to be ripped off.”

“I know my love. But you still have your soulmate out there. Maybe you’ll love her even more than this girl.”

He suppresses a scoff. He feels horrible lying to his mom like this; she’s been his best friend since he was young. Like with Jaemin, he tells her everything.

“Yeah, I’m sure I will.”

He can’t tell his mom everything, not this time at least.

---

“Can I sit?”

Jisung blinks once before turning his head to look up at you. You smile down at him, your hands held behind your back. He silently nods once before he turns his attention back to the water in front of him.

He knows he is being dramatic, but he can’t help it. The man he loves is out on a date.

“I got you this,” you say, bringing your hand out from behind your back as you sit down to hand him an ice cream bar.

He smiles weakly, taking the ice cream from your outstretched hand. “Thank you for this and for bringing the food into the tent for me. I’m sorry both of your friends aren’t being very fun after we practically dragged you on this trip.”

You shrug your shoulders, eyes trained on unwrapping the ice cream. “It’s okay. You’re not feeling very well, and on top of that, your best friend just found his soulmate. It can’t be easy.”

Jisung freezes slightly at the comment before forcing himself to unwrap the bar to make himself feel less suspicious. “Why would Hyung finding his soulmate make me feel bad?”

You smile softly, not looking away from the bar. “My best friend found his soulmate, and that was really hard on me. I mean, I knew I wasn’t the most important person in his life, but at least I was someone. And I still am someone, but I don’t matter as much as I used to. Me and him still talk almost every day, but when he first found her, after every conversation, there was this nagging thought of 'and now he goes back to his soulmate.'” You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “And maybe I’m being selfish. But at the same time, I’m used to being his go-to. And now that he has someone who can be there for him when I can’t—in more ways than one—I just felt this great sense of loss.”

Jisung nods his head, taking a bite of the bar to try and keep the tears from falling.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you continue. “I’m happy for him, and I can’t wait to meet her. I just hope that when I see her, this feeling I have of being replaced is gone.”

“Replaced. That’s a good word for it.”

You nod your head, turning your attention away from the bar and out to the water. “You know, my friend once told me something when I was talking to him about my worries. And to summarize, he told me how no one could fill my place. That Xiulan holds a place in his heart as his soulmate, a place I never had, nor could I ever fill. I don’t know if this will help you, but after about a week of sulking, that advice helped me. So it might not be okay right now, but maybe with this ice cream and some time, you’ll realize you haven’t lost him.”

Jisung silently nods his head, letting silence fall between you two. He appreciates you offering your advice, and he can’t explain how relieved he feels knowing you think he’s only sad because he lost a best friend. He’s also thankful he doesn’t have to go through this alone. He’s glad Jaemin made him befriend you.

“Thank you, y/n.”

You glance over at him, smiling softly before looking back out at the water. “Eat your ice cream before it melts.”

---

This has got to be the weirdest situation you’ve been in in a long time.

Jaemin, and his soulmate Ki, decided to have a “bonding breakfast” with her and her group of friends. So now, you and Jisung are sitting at a picnic table with her three friends while Ki and Jaemin make pancakes.

You and Jisung exchange a look as the three girls on the opposite side of the table continue to talk to each other. They had started off including you in the conversation, but they had somehow trailed off to some inside story that you and Jisung had no choice but to listen.

“So uh,” you start once you notice their conversation come to an end. “Do you guys live far from here?”

“Oh no,” Gaeun, a girl with short hair and a dazzling smile, answers. “We live like thirty minutes away. How far out are you guys?”

“We’re like three hours or so away,” you answer, nodding your head. After a few seconds of awkward smiling and eye contact, you turn around to look at Ki and Jaemin, silently wishing they would hurry up.

“So y/n, Jisung, what are your soulmate marks?” Kyungsoon, a beautiful girl who, despite the meaning of her name, was anything but mild.

“Mine is the tally mark one,” Jisung answers, and it surprises you how nonchalantly he answers.

If your past said anything, it was that, normally, this question wouldn’t bother you. In any other situation, one where your soulmate isn’t literally sitting right next to you, you would have been the first person to ask this very question.

But because your soulmate is sitting next to you, and he doesn’t know you’re soulmates, you find yourself freezing at the question.

“I-uh I don’t know mine yet,” you answer, rubbing your wrist under the table. After all, for the majority of your life, it wasn’t a lie.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Kyungsoon says, and you smile softly at the sincerity in her voice. “Maybe your mark is something like Ki’s, and you’ll know it when you see them.”

“Yeah, maybe. How about you guys?”

“Oh, I actually met my soulmate when I was in my last year of high school,” Kyungsoon gushes. She reminds you a lot of yourself, and given your current soulmate situation, it’s nice to see someone as romantic as yourself. “He’s the nicest man I’ve ever met. And he knows how to cook! Which, for me, is a lifesaver. I can’t cook to save my life.”

“That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you Kyungsoon.”

She smiles brightly. “Thanks y/n! I bet you guys will find your soulmates soon.”

Jisung laughs, drawing your attention away from the girl opposite you.

“Jisung?”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes with a bitter smile. “I just don’t know if I’m ready to meet my soulmate, and I don’t know if I ever will be. I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to interrupt. Soulmate conversations are just hard for me to have.”

“What? What do you mean?” you ask. You’re not sure if you want to hear what he has to say; the message was pretty clear the first time around. There is still a small sliver of hope that says maybe you’ve misunderstood.

“I just don’t know if I ever want to meet my soulmate,” he repeats, shrugging before he turns to look at Kyungsoon  “That’s not to say I’m not happy for you, because I am. I’m just one of those people who doesn’t think a soulmate is for them.”

The other girls nod their heads, saying something about how they can understand that. You can hear them talking, but the only thing that processes in your head is that if Jisung found out who you are, he wouldn’t want anything to do with you.

“My parents were like that too,” Lian, a quiet girl who is by far the calmest member of their group, adds. “They met when my dad was in China studying abroad and had me a year after they graduated; despite not being married or soulmates. When I was six or so, my dad found his soulmate when he was back here on a visit. I’m not saying this to force you to find your soulmate, but just keep in mind that if you chose to live like that, nothing is certain.”

Jisung smiles softly, nodding his head in acknowledgment. “Having a soulmate who values you isn't certain either.”

After his statement, a silence settles over the table. It takes everything in you not to continue to stare at him. You can feel the awkward atmosphere, and normally you would do something to try and fix it. Right now though, you can’t bring yourself to even care. All your thoughts are centered on the fact that Jisung doesn’t seem to want anything to do with you.

“Pancakes are ready!”

---

Jaemin isn’t quite sure what happened.

The breakfast had been nice. It was fun getting to know Ki and her friends better while also hanging out with his own. After they had walked back to their camp, you, Jisung, and he packed up the camp.

It is now twenty minutes into the drive, and he could tell something had happened. On the drive here, you and Jisung had fought over the passenger seat. The car ride had been filled with conversation, and he thought the drive had passed relatively quickly.

Now though, Jisung had silently taken the back seat, and after the first five minutes, the conversation between you and him had mostly stopped. He tried to pick it up again, but he knows when people aren’t in the mood to talk.

“Hyung, can we stop at the next rest stop? I have to use the bathroom,” Jisung quietly asks from the backseat.

“Yeah, of course,” he answers, smiling into the rearview mirror.

Jisung isn’t looking at him and is instead gazing blankly out the window. It hurt Jaemin, the way Jisung had asked the question. He has never heard Jisung use that tone of voice with him. He sounded so hollow.

When they got to the rest stop, Jisung practically jumped out of the car as soon as it stopped.

“Should we go buy some snacks?” He suggests, looking over to you.

You nod your head, unbuckling your seat belt. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Jaemin hates this situation. Yes, there is something wrong with Jisung. But now, as you’re walking into the store, he sees something is wrong with you too. He feels helpless because he has no idea what even happened, and no one is telling him anything.

“Do you, uh, do you know what’s wrong with Jisung?” he asks nervously, sending a quick text to Jisung telling him where you are.

You wait a few seconds to answer, which he takes as you definitely know what’s wrong with his best friend. Again, it hurts him that his best friend, and now you, are hiding something from him.

“Yeah, I do,” you start slowly, and he can tell you’re hesitant to tell him. “I don’t know if I should be telling you this, so don’t tell him I told you. But I think he just feels threatened by Ki. I think he’s worried you’ll replace him.”

Jaemin nods his head, taking in a deep breath. Why does there have to be a downside to one of the happiest moments of his life? He’s been looking forward to this day since he heard the song Daddy Issues by The Neighbourhood five years ago at his music club in high school.

Like most people in the club, he was shocked when the title had been translated into Korean. He felt almost embarrassed for the girl that brought it up, worried that she would be judged by the other members—despite them being the nicest people he’s ever met.

But when she explained that the song was about the lead singer struggling to deal with his dad’s death and about how he loved the girl for her problems, he was able to see why she loved the song. The idea that a person could love someone else for their problems was magical to him.

That was when he decided he was looking forward to meeting his soulmate. He knows that just because people are soulmates that doesn’t mean they don’t have their problems. That being said, soulmates are made for each other, and he wants someone who is made for him, who will love him for his problems.

“I appreciate you telling me, even if Jisung didn’t want me to know. I’ll talk to him about it when we get back.”

You nod your head, picking up a bag of chips. “I’ll just have these. Are you getting anything?”

He shakes his head, picking up a bag of chips he’s seen Jisung eat many times. “I’ll just get something for Jisung. He texted saying he didn’t want anything and is going to wait in the car. But I know him better. Hey y/n?”

You hum in response. Despite the minimal response, he’s glad you didn’t seem to mind his quick change in topic.

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean? There’s nothing wrong.”

“I don’t know. You just seem … different. Did Ki and her friends make it awkward or uncomfortable for you?”

“Oh no,” you shake your head, sending him a small smile before mindlessly looking at the different snacks. But the look on your face seemed tired—and not from a lack of sleep. “I just hate long car rides. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Ki and her friends, but it’s a bit tiring for me to socialize with people I don’t know that well first thing in the morning.”

“Oh, okay. Well, thank you for doing that for me. It means a lot.”

You smile softly, nodding your heads towards the cashier. “You don’t need to thank me. I enjoyed talking with them.”

Jaemin smiles, following you to the cash register. “Well, the snacks are on me, as a thank you.”

You smile softly in thanks before turning and watching as the cashier scans the items.

He doesn’t know you as well as he knows Jisung, but he thinks you’re lying. He knows when to push, and right now, before a two-hour drive, is not the time to push.

“Ready to go home?” he asks, handing you your bag of chips.

You smile tiredly, nodding your head in response. He smiles back, trying to ignore the sadness in your eyes.

---

“Hey, how was your trip,” Chenle asks after you exchange hellos.

“It was fun!” You lean back against the kitchen counter, crossing your legs. “It was nice having some time with them outside of school.”

“Oh, I bet. Anything fun happen? Any bear attacks?”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “You know it! There were five bear attacks.”

“Wow, that little? Normally it’s in the twenties. How lucky you three were.”

“I know right! And on top of not being attacked by a bear, Jaemin met his soulmate.”

The line goes silent, and you almost feel bad for changing the mood so fast. But Chenle’s your best friend, he’s always there for you, and you’re always there for him.

“Is Jisung okay,” he asks softly.

You shrug your shoulders. “He’s as okay as you can imagine.”

“And how about you? Are you okay?”

You sigh, rubbing your free hand over your face. “You know, in full honesty, I was happy. I mean, this was my chance to show him how worthy I am of being his soulmate. This was my chance, Chenle.”

“Then what?”

“Then he said he doesn’t want to meet his soulmate.”

He sighs, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“I know I have this conversation with you all the time,” you take a deep breath and push back the tears in your eyes, “but why does this have to happen to me? I like to think that I’m a nice person, so why doesn’t my soulmate want me? I just-this isn’t fair.”

“Y/n no,” he coos softly. “It’ll be okay.”

“How Chenle, how? Because the person I have been waiting my whole life for just said he didn’t want me.”

“Y/n you were worried about the same thing when you found out about Jaemin. That turned out okay and so will this.”

In any other situation, you would appreciate his optimism.

“Come on, Chenle. I appreciate you listening to me, don’t get me wrong, but do you really think this will be okay? I mean, he said he didn’t want to meet his soulmate at all. Last time, you told me it would be okay because I had a place in his heart that couldn’t be filled. Now, though, I’m trying to win a place in his heart. He doesn’t even want me, Chenle.”

You take a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut. You hate everything about this situation. You have never liked drama, and ever since you met Jisung, your life has gotten more dramatic.

But he’s your soulmate; you love him.

“Okay y/n, listen. I know that right now, it seems impossible. But you believe in soulmates, right?”

You blink your eyes in shock. “Chenle I- yeah, of course, I do.”

“Then there’s your answer. He is your soulmate, y/n. He was made from the same star as you, and you have been with him for every single one of your past lives and will continue to be with him for your next lives. So maybe in this life, you guys just have a long story.”

You sigh, wiping your eyes. “Why me, though? I like to think I’ve been a good person, so why does my happy ending have to take so long?”

He laughs, and you can imagine he’s leaning back against the wall next to his bed. “Life has not been easy to us, has it?”

You chuckle, thinking about all the times you would stay at Chenle’s when your parents were too busy to look after you, or vice versa. High school had been the worst for both of you. It was when your parents decided you were old enough to look after yourselves and they could start taking more time-consuming projects.

You chuckle. “No, no, it wasn’t.”

“Do you remember that time when both our parents were gone, and you called me to come over because you were just having a horrible day? To be more specific, it was the first time I used the key to your house that you gave me. I opened the door, and the first thing I said was ‘sit down, I’m going to make you the best dinner you’ve ever had.’”

You chuckle. “Yeah, I remember. I’d had the worst day ever, and you put marina sauce on bread with cheese on top and called it pizza after cooking it in the oven.”

“And it was the best dinner of your life.”

“Whatever floats your boat.”

“You’re just in denial. Anyways, my point is, you’re going to be okay. You didn’t have parents around every day like most kids, but you came out just fine. And if your soulmate isn’t someone who sticks around every day, you’ll be okay too. There are other options.”

You scoff. You know what the other options are. They’re dating apps and bars made specifically for people whose soulmates had died or rejected them. Just like when you first read about your mark, you pitted the people who went there. And now, that person might be you.

“I know those options don’t seem very desirable, but if that’s what has to happen, then that’s what happens.”

“You’re right. I’m overthinking things.” You know you’re not unreasonably overthinking things; Chenle just has a way of seeing things simply. This is your soulmate, after all, the person you’ve been dying to meet since you could form a coherent thought.

“No, not really. I just have an outside perspective, so it’s easier for me to be objective,” he replies cheekily.

You smile, rolling your eyes at his attitude. “I raised you better than this.”

“Obviously not. How does it feel to fail?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

—-

“I’m sorry, what?”

To say Jisung is nervous would be an understatement.

This morning, you had sent him and Jaemin a text telling them they had to meet you at this café they had never heard of and that it was important. He had been the last to arrive, but judging from the fact Jaemin was still looking at the menu, he isn’t too late. He decided to sit next to you, and he tried to ignore the little glance Jaemin sent him over the menu.

It has been a month since Jaemin found his soulmate, and Jisung is still having a hard time adjusting. He knows Jaemin isn’t dumb, and he knows Jaemin noticed something was off about him. He just can’t force himself to be around him and act like everything is normal. It hurt too much.

“Listen, I know it’s fast,” you explain. “But my friend is coming back from China, and he didn’t tell me until this morning. He’s a very spontaneous person, and he said he wanted to meet you guys, and I was so excited at the fact that he’s back in the country that I just said yes.”

Jaemin chuckles, shaking his head slightly as he slides the menu across to him. “How come we’ve never heard of him? I didn’t even know you had a friend in China”

“Neither did I,” he adds, picking up the menu to see what drinks they have. Since he hadn’t known he was going to be meeting you today, he had already eaten.

“Okay, yes, but I have mentioned him to you, Jisung. He was the friend I was talking to when you scared me at the store.”

Jisung nods his head, not looking away from the menu. He remembers that friend, the friend who sounded like your soulmate but wasn’t. The fact that he’s about to meet someone so close to you without knowing anything about him worries him. What if he says something stupid to make your friend hate him, causing you to hate him?

“Fine, let me revise. Why haven’t I heard of him?” Jaemin asks, and Jisung can tell he’s smiling.

“Oh, I don’t know,” you look down towards your wrist before looking back up. “He just never came up, I guess.”

“Fine, then what is his—”

“Y/n?”

You and Jisung turn towards the voice before his attention is quickly drawn to you shooting out of your seat to hug a boy with light brown hair. “Chenle! Welcome back.”

Setting down the menu, Jisung slides out of his seat as quietly as he can and into the vacant seat next to Jaemin. Jaemin smiles softly at him, and Jisung quickly flashes him a smile before bringing his attention back to you and Chenle.

“It’s good to be back,” Chenle answers, and Jisung smiles softly at the way he hugs you tightly.

“I see you dyed your hair brown again,” you smile, backing out of the hug and ruffling his hair.

He smiles back at you, rolling his eyes. “I was telling Xiulan how much you liked my brown hair, and I realized how much I liked my brown hair, so I brought it back.”

You laugh, and Jisung notices how much happier you seem. “Well, you look nice. Now, before we make my friends uncomfortable,” you turn to face Jisung and Jaemin, your wide smile still present, “Chenle, this is Jaemin and Jisung. Jaemin and Jisung, this is my best friend, Chenle.”

“It’s nice to meet you two. Y/n has told me a lot about you both,” he says as you both sit down. Chenle smiles at them both, but Jisung notices the way his eyes linger on him longer than Jaemin.

Jisung smiles shyly back, breaking eye contact out of nervousness. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Yeah, it’s nice to meet you too. But I can’t say y/n has told me a lot about you. This is actually the first time I’m hearing about you,” Jaemin greets, and he doesn’t miss the teasing smile Jaemin sends you.

“What? Are you ashamed of me or something?” Chenle asks, poking you on the arm.

“Oh, you know it,” you respond, wacking his hand, “I knew they wouldn’t want to hang out with me if they knew I hung out with someone like you.”

Jisung and Jaemin chuckle softly at the bickering. It might be too early to tell, but Jisung is willing to bet with Chenle here, he’s going to see a new side of you.

---

“Thank you, sir,” Jisung thanks, handing the cab driver the amount owed.

Jisung isn’t sure he can do this. Sure, it had been fun hanging out with Chenle, and, at the time, he thought it would be fun to hang out with him again.

Now that he was standing in front of a house he has never been to, with the intention to go in and watch a movie with you and someone he met this morning, he’s having second thoughts.

Despite it being hard to be around Jaemin, he wishes more than anything that he was standing next to him now. Had he known Jaemin wasn’t able to make it, he probably wouldn’t have accepted. Maybe it was his own fault for being slightly distant from Jaemin recently, but he used to know when Jaemin was busy and when he wasn’t.

Sighing, he pulls out his phone and presses on your contact. “I’m here y/n,” he says as soon as you pick up.

You chuckle. “Hello to you too. Chenle's on the third floor, apartment 311.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

Sighing again, he hangs up the phone, shoving it back into his pocket before he pulls the door open. Tapping his finger against each other as he walks to the elevator, he pushes against the feeling that something bad is going to happen. He should have brought something, a gift of some kind. Isn’t it rude to show up at someone’s house without a gift of some kind?

Shaking his head, he pushes the up button on the elevator, stepping in a second later.

“It’ll be okay, Jisung,” he mumbles to himself, watching the red number at the top change. “Y/n’s there, and they won’t put you in an uncomfortable position. You’ll be fine.”

He finds himself repeating the last three words as the elevator dings open, and he begins walking in what he assumes to be the right direction. Judging by how the numbers on the door kept increasing, he’d say he made the right decision.

Soon, he finds himself in front of the door with 311 posted on the front. Taking a deep breath, he brings his fist up and knocks on the door three times.

“Welcome to the-“ Chenle announces as he opens the door.

“Lee household,” y/n finishes. Judging from the confused glance Chenle sends you, that wasn’t part of the plan.

“Thank you for inviting me here,” he responds, slowly walking into the room and placing his shoes with the others. “Are you sure I’m not overstepping? I’m sure you want to spend some time with your family.”

“Oh, don’t worry, you’re not,” Chenle answers, closing the door behind him and walking to the left.”My parents don’t get back for another two days. Your company is welcome.”

“What about me,” y/n responds. “I’m literally sleeping in the room across from yours. Am I not enough company for you?”

Chenle pokes his head from around the corner, looking you up and down, before shaking his head and letting out a simple, “Nah.”

You gasp dramatically, and Jisung watches in amusement as Chenle disappears behind the corner again.

"Can you believe the nerve of that guy?" you huff, leaning against the wall as you wait for Jisung to remove his shoes. "You're friends with someone for as long as you can remember, and this is how he treats you. Make a mental note, Jisung men aren't worth it."

Jisung chuckles. "Yeah, I'll be sure to remember that. I'm sure it'll help me tons in my life, you know, being a guy and all."

"Glad you agree! Now come this way, and follow me to the semi comfy couch."

"What did you say about my couch?" Chenle asks, watching as you both walk into the room.

"That's it's semi comfy," you answer, taking a seat next to him. "Ready to start?" you ask, patting the spot next to you and looking up at him.

“I’m just going to go to the bathroom first,” Jisung says awkwardly.

“Okay, it’s just down that hall and to the right. You’ll find it,” y/n answers, pointing to a hall on the other side of the room.

He walks towards the hallway, checking over his shoulder once to make sure he is going in the right direction. When you nod in reassurance, he turns the corner and is met with a short hallway with two doors. Pushing an already open door he assumes to be the bathroom further open, he’s met with a white bathroom.

“My mom would be so jealous of this room,” he mumbles to himself, closing the door behind him.

Coming out of the bathroom, he finds himself face to face with a photo of what he assumes to be Chenle’s family. Above the picture, the words “种 family” are printed in black letters.

Jisung tilts his head to the side in confusion. He can’t say for sure, but from what he remembers from the Hanja lessons at school, 种 doesn’t translate to Lee.

He doesn’t know what it translates to, so he takes a photo of it to check later. He feels like he’s overstepping, especially since Chenle invited him into his home despite only meeting him this morning. It just doesn't sit right with him; why would you lie to him?

“Y/n,” He hears Chenle whisper as he walks closer. The rest of the conversation is continued in fast English, making it hard to follow. Not that he’s trying to eavesdrop.

His presence in the room causes the conversation to end, and he freezes a second as they both look over at him. He smiles shyly, quickly walking towards the couch and taking the seat next to you.

“Ready to start?”

“Yeah, what are we watching?”

“Hope you like horror, Jisung, because that’s our favorite genre to watch together,” Chenle answers, scrolling through the movies on Netflix.

“Of course, if it really makes you uncomfortable, we can watch something else,” you add, smiling softly at him over your shoulder.

Jisung looks at the movie on the screen, a movie called Hush. “Um no, horror is good. I haven’t watched too many horror movies, so it’ll be nice to find out if I like them or not.”

“Good!” Chenle cheers, pressing play. “Then off we go!”  

--

“We’re soulmates.”

You blink back at him, the smile dropping off your face. “How’d you know?”

“You knew, didn’t you.”

Normally, Jisung isn’t this forward. He liked to word things carefully and do anything in his power to avoid confrontation. Normally, instead of meeting you outside your dorm building, he would’ve met you at a café or a park. Right now, however, he is too annoyed to take the time to be polite. You had lied to him.

You nod your head. “How did you find out?”

“There was a photo of Chenle and his family that said ‘Zhong family.’” He rolls up his sleeve to show you his tally mark. “Knowing that, the ZCL wasn’t too hard to understand. You really went on a date with your best friend?”

Your eyebrows raise in shock, and Jisung only barely notices the sharp tone in his voice. “Are you judging me?”

“No, no, I just better understand how you were able to give me such good advice about Jaemin.”

You laugh. “Listen, I don’t know why you’re being like this but you have no right. I have never had any interest in dating Chenle. I was able to give you that advice because while I may not love Chenle how you love Jaemin—which is fine, by the way—I do love him.”

Jisung is taken back with embarrassment. He feels naked now that you know about this part of him, and for a moment, he’s worried you’ll ridicule him. How did you even know? He hasn’t told anyone and he thinks he’s been relatively discrete about it. Then it clicks. You’re his soulmate. Again, he finds himself hating soulmates. If it weren’t for this, no one would know.

“You-you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You sigh. “Jisung, I’m—”

“Y/n,” he interrupts, his embarrassment fueling his anger. “I can’t see you anymore.”

“Wait,” you laugh humorlessly. “Let me get this straight, you’re deciding you can’t be around me anymore because I’m the person you’re supposed to spend the rest of your life with?”

“You don’t understand,” Jisung sighs. Despite the embarrassment, he knows he isn’t in the right to be annoyed or angry; but you don’t understand what he’s trying to do and it's furthering his annoyance. He’s trying to help you.

“You’re right, I don’t. Because there isn’t anything to understand. But please, tell me what you think I need to understand.”

“I don’t need to explain this to you, so if you can’t understand I’m sorry. But I never liked the idea of soulmates, okay? My parents are soulmates and they didn’t fit well together, they still don’t. There is nothing certain about them, so why do I have to spend my life looking for this one person when I don’t even know who they are? I want to get to know the person before I decide if I want to spend my life with them. Not because I’m supposed to be with them.”

You scoff. “You’re being selfish and contradicting your own logic. You got to know me before you found out we are soulmates.”

“Selfish?” he laughs. “How am I being selfish?”

“Because you’re deciding you’re more important than I am. You’re deciding that your feelings of ‘oh, my parents failed as soulmates so me and y/n will fail too’ is more important than anything I have to say. Instead of considering my side, which is, ‘I understand that Jisung is afraid, but I’m willing to work with him to realize it doesn’t have to go the way he thinks it will.’”

He scoffs. “I hardly think that’s being selfish.”

“Oh, you don’t? I’ve waited my whole life to meet my soulmate, and when I did, I found out he wants nothing to do with me. So you know what I do? I put my feelings aside, and I decide I’m going to prove to you that I’m worthy of being your soulmate. That if you still don’t want me after I’ve given my all, then I’ll respect your wishes and you’ll never have to think of me as your soulmate again. But you, you weren’t thinking about me when you decided this, and you’re still not thinking about me. If not selfish, then what?”

He shakes his head. “I’m not going to let you talk to me like this. We can talk more when you’re calmed down.”

You nod your head. “Okay, you do that. My words may be harsh, and maybe I could have worded this better, but none of it is false. So you go, think about what I said, and let me ‘calm down.’ Then later, you’re going to decide how you want this relationship to continue for the time being. Because I love you, Jisung, and I’m not going to give up on you yet. But if you come to me tomorrow and decide you don’t want me right now, then I’m done chasing after you for the time being. I need a break from being second best.”  

You and Jisung look at each other in silence before he takes a deep breath and turns away from you, quickly walking away from your dorm building.

---

When he gets back to his room, he quickly throws himself face-first onto his bed. He still can’t believe the conversation he just had with you. How could you not understand? He was trying to help you; he was trying to save you from a forced relationship.

Sighing, he flips around onto his back and pulls his phone out of his back pocket. Opening his contacts, he scrolls until he finds the one he’s looking for. Jaemin’s contact.

He knows he has been distant towards Jaemin, and he feels bad that he’s only starting to get close to him again because he needs his advice. Better now than never, right?

“Jisung!” Jaemin exclaims as soon as he picks up. “What’s up?”

“I was hoping I could talk to you about something.”

“Yeah, of course. What is it?”

Jisung sighs, the conversation still fresh in his mind. “Y/n and I are soulmates. They knew we’re soulmates and they didn’t even tell me.”

The line goes silent, and Jisung can imagine his friend is having a hard time deciding what he should say. “How do you feel about that?”

Jisung shrugs his shoulders, putting the phone on speaker before laying it on top of his chest. “Just as you imagine I would. I never wanted to meet my soulmate, and now I find out my soulmate is one of my best friends. How is that fair?”

“Well,” Jaemin starts slowly, and Jisung can tell he’s still having a hard time picking his words. “I can say that if I were in your shoes, I’d be happy. Not that I’m not happy with Ki, she seems very nice, I just mean it would’ve been even better had I been friends with her before.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jisung sighs. “You know me, and you know about my parents. So you know why I don’t want my soulmate. I’ve said this many times before, but there isn’t anything certain about soulmates so why should I have to spend my life with them?”

“Did you tell them that?”

“Yeah, I did. I told y/n I couldn’t see them anymore, and they then proceeded to call me selfish.” He complains.

“How so?”

“They said that by deciding that I didn’t want to meet my soulmate, I was only considering my feelings and not theirs. Which is something I decided when I was like 10, so I hardly think that qualifies as selfish. Plenty of people decide they want to meet their soulmates at 10 and they aren’t called selfish.”

Jisung can’t hide how annoyed he is. He knows he should try and explain things a bit more, or mention how you had been calm at first until he started arguing. But he didn’t want Jaemin to side with you. Even if he is wrong, which he can’t understand how he could be, he doesn’t want Jaemin to say it. He just wants someone on his side right now.

“Well that in itself isn’t selfish. Is that what they said was selfish?” “Well, no. They said I was selfish for not considering their point of view; by not giving us a try. But there is no us,” he laughs, “We’re not even dating! Why should I have to give us a try when, a, I never wanted to meet my soulmate, and b, I don’t have romantic feelings towards them right now. How is it selfish to not want to go on a date?”

“Of course it isn’t. I think they just mean it’s selfish not to look at their point of view. If y/n didn’t tell you right away, that must mean they were considering it might be fast for you and chose to wait. I think they’re just hoping you’ll do the same.”

“But why do I have to give up this thing that I’ve held so close to me since I was little. I watched my dad treat my mom like she wasn’t the person ‘made from the same star’ as he was. He acted like we were just there. Which, yeah, I guess I should be glad he never physically hurt us. Jaemin, he doesn’t care about us. And I’m worried that if I find my soulmate—who is y/n, a friend—then we’re just going to end the same way. I mean, I may not like it, but half of me is from my dad. What if the same thing that is in him, the thing that makes him not care, has passed down to me and by the time y/n realizes it, it’s too late for them to leave. So I don’t think it’s fair that y/n thinks I’m being selfish when I’ve said everything I’ve said for them. It isn’t fair.”

Jisung takes a deep breath. He hadn’t expected to talk to Jaemin about this, but he’s glad he is. While he may not be able to talk to Jaemin about everything—mostly him being bisexual—he is glad he can talk to him about soulmates. Frankly, nothing scares him more than meeting his soulmate. It made him think about his dad; made him wonder how much like him he really was.

“So this is a fear thing, you know that right?”

“Well, no, not exactly,” Jisung pauses, thinking over what he just said before sighing. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Okay, then I think you should tell y/n that. I imagine they would be willing to work with you on that.”

“I don’t know if I want to do that.”

Jisung can imagine he’s tilting his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t want to work through it. This particular thing has never been a problem for me until now. And it’s only a problem because it’s my soulmate. So if I just keep my distance from them—like I said I would—then I don’t have to fix myself.”

This, Jisung knows, is extremely selfish. But he doesn’t care. Why should he have to change who he is because he’s scared of one person? Why can’t he just save himself time and avoid the root of this fear?

“Jisung,” Jaemin sighs. “Do I have to tell you what’s wrong with that?”

“No, you don’t. I just don’t understand why I have to be the adult and change my whole way of thinking for this one person.”

“Y/n isn’t just a person, they’re your friend. Relationships are the same thing as friendships; you have to work together in order for them to work. Now, I don’t know everything about the situation, but from what you’ve told me and from what I’ve seen, they’ve been trying to work with you. Don’t you think it’s fair that you work with them as well?”

Jisung sighs again, bringing his hands up to rub his face. His annoyance is gone and it’s been replaced with tiredness. Jaemin has a point. “I-I know what you mean. I’m just so tired.”

“Tired? Tired of what?”

“I feel like I always have to change myself. I know it isn’t a bad thing to work on yourself, I just don’t know if I have the energy to change myself even more. This year has been so hard on me; so much has changed in my life. I’m just so tired of having to change myself.”

Jaemin hums and Jisung can imagine he’s nodding his head. “Yeah, change is hard. But if you do the work now, imagine how much better you’ll be in the future. I know this is something you’ve held onto since you were young, but at the same time, y/n has had it in their mind that they’d meet their soulmate and live happily ever after. They changed their thinking and were able to accept that it wouldn’t go the way they thought it would.”

Jisung knows he’s being selfish—now that it’s being thrown back in his face. “Alright, thank you for talking with me Jaemin. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem,” Jaemin pauses, and Jisung can tell he has more to say. “And Jisung?”

He hums in response.

“It was really nice talking to you again.”

Jisung closes his eyes. “Yeah, it was nice talking. I’m sorry I’ve been so distant from you lately. Like I said, a lot has changed and it’s just been hard adjusting.”

“Well if you ever want someone to talk to about that change, I’m here for you.”

“I will, thank you Hyung.”

---

“Long time no see.”

Jisung chuckles awkwardly, looking down at his cup. “Yeah, I’m sorry it took so long for me to get back to you.”

“No, it’s okay,” you smile softly. Honestly, the three days it took for Jisung to finally message you had been filled with worry. You thought he was never going to get back to you.

“So uh, I thought about our conversation,” he starts, slowly looking up from his cup. “And I just wanted to talk some more before we … decide anything.”

You nod your head, leaning forward in your chair. “Yeah, totally. Go ahead.”

“First, I want to apologize for how I talked to you once I found out. I was hurt because you lied to me, and I was,” he pauses, shaking his head and sighing, “embarrassed you knew about me and Jaemin. So I’m sorry that I used that tone with you, and I want to know what I can do to make it up to you.”

You open your mouth to respond but nothing comes out. No one, when apologizing, had ever asked you what they could do to make it up to you. That, paired with the sincere look in his eyes, gave you butterflies, and you found yourself struggling to answer. “Um, you don’t need to do anything. The fact that you’re even asking me what you can do to make it better is enough for me. It means the world to me.”

“Okay, I’m glad,” he smiles. “But if you think of anything let me know. Now I hope you’ll be patient with me during this part. The apology part is the only thing I really prepared for, so I hope you don’t mind me rambling like an idiot.”

“No, of course not. Take your time.”

He takes a deep breath, flashing you a quick smile. “So the first thing I want to talk about is what you want from this relationship. Because you know that I’m … a little hesitant to meet my soulmate and start a romantic relationship. So where are you hoping this will go?”

“If I’m being completely honest, years down the road, I want us to be together and have a family of sorts. Whether that family is kids or dogs, cats, or hamsters, I don’t care. But I can imagine that’s scary for you, so we can take it slow if you want. We continue to stay friends until you’re ready for more.” you take a deep breath, bringing your hands up to wrap around your cup, eyes looking down into the liquid. “Or, if you can’t see yourself even being around me, I can try and get used to the idea that you truly don’t want me. But I meant what I said, I don’t want to give up on you yet. I’ll give you some space and time, and then I’ll try again.”

Jisung nods his head, an emotion you think could only be ununderstanding clouding his eyes. “And this might be weird, but you said you loved me? Do you really?”

You nod your head. “Yeah, I’ve loved you since I was little. As soon as I was able to comprehend soulmates, I knew I loved you. And when I met you, before I found out we were soulmates, I thought you were cute. The way you were so nervous about having dropped that coffee on me was precious and reminded me of myself, and it just made my day better overall. When I found out we were soulmates, it was the first day we went out—all three of us to your friend's dad’s restaurant—was so sad because you loved someone else. I still loved you though it didn’t change how I felt about you. Then once I got to actually know you, my feelings were confirmed? I don’t know, that sounds weird. I just had this faith that you would be a good person, and once I met you, I was sure I was right.”

He blinks at you. “But-but I don’t understand. And maybe it’s because I never intended to meet my soulmate, but how could you love this person you’ve never met?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t think everyone thinks the way I do. I think if you asked Jaemin or Chenle if they loved their soulmate before they met them, they’d say no. It’s just a me thing. I have faith that the universe put us together for a reason, and because we’re connected, I’m going to love you. Had you turned out to be a jerk, I probably wouldn’t love you now. But you’re a nice kid, Jisung, so I still have that love for you. I hope I don’t sound too weird.”

“No, no, you don’t,” he quickly denies. “It’s just I grew up watching two people—two soulmates—not love each other. I mean, my dad didn’t even seem to care most of the time. So I grew up thinking that soulmates didn’t work out like people said they did.”

“I’m sorry, that must’ve been hard.”

“It was what it was. I mean, that isn’t something I normally tell people, but I want you to understand I’m not doing it to hurt you. So can we stay friends? I’m not saying we’ll never be together. Right now, it’s just hard for me to say that I’m ready to be my soulmate’s other half.”

For a second, neither of you says anything. You can tell he’s nervous, and you mentally applaud him for keeping his composure. “Of course, I don’t mind staying friends, Jisung. Whatever you need to do.”

He lets out a relieved sigh before he pushes himself up from his chair and walks over to awkwardly hug you. “Thank you for understanding.”

You hug him back, gently squeezing him. He’s the love of your life; what’s the rush?

—-

“Y/n will you please come to the lounge of my dorm?”

“Yeah, sure. Is everything okay? You sound off.”

“I’ll explain when you get here. I just need to talk to you about something.”

“Okay, I’m on my way. I’ll be there in like 5 minutes.”

Once the line goes dead, Jisung leans back in the chair, running a hand over his face.

Jisung isn’t sure why he called you. In the past three months since he told Jaemin about you being his soulmate, they had slowly become normal. Jisung will still get pangs of sadness now and again when thinking about Ki and Jaemin, but it’s better than before. Since he and Jaemin are okay again, why didn’t he call him? He’s who he would normally call.

“Jisung, hey. What’s wrong?” You greet as you set your bag down and sit in the chair across from him.

“My dad died.”

He watches as you freeze before you blink slowly. “I’m so sorry.”

He shrugs his shoulders, averting his eyes to look out the window. “I didn’t even know him that well, you know? And then my mom calls me crying and tells me that he died because of a drunk driver.” He takes a deep breath. “I guess I just thought one of these days, when I’m older, I’ll finally get to know why he never bothered to stay around when I was growing up. That I’ll be able to tell him how well I’m doing despite how little he was around, and he’ll tell me that he’s sorry.” Jisung chuckles, shaking his head. He can feel tears start to well behind his eyes. “If you had known him, you would know that’s so unrealistic. Just a fantasy.”

Your face softens, and you nod your head. “That’s not a dumb thing to wish for. I don’t blame you for wanting your dad to show that he loves you.”

He nods, biting his lip. “All my life, I’ve never thought of myself as lacking. My mom was all I needed, and I didn’t need a man to teach me how to be one. But now that he’s dead, it just hurts. And I don’t know why it hurts, and I think that’s why I feel as upset as I do.”

Jisung looks at you with what he can only imagine are pleading eyes. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for, he just hopes you have it.

“I’ll be honest, Jisung, I don’t know what to say. Both my parents were as loving as they could have been, despite being gone a lot. If I had to guess, though, it hurts because even if you weren’t close with your dad, he’s still half of you. He was also in your life every day.”

Jisung nods his head once before tipping his head back. Just yesterday, if you asked him about his dad, he wouldn’t have hesitated to say said he didn’t want to talk about it. He wouldn’t even feel bad saying he was a jerk.

Now that he’s dead, he doesn’t know what he can say. Of course, he isn’t going to lie and say he was a great dad, but something feels unresolved.

“I think I feel guilty,” he admits, bringing his eyes back to focus on you.

“About what?”

“I feel guilty that he died, maybe thinking I hated him.” He shuts his eyes as a few tears escape his eyes, and he quickly wipes them. “I don’t hate him.”

A silence sets over you two, and Jisung suddenly realizes how unfair it is of him to suddenly dump this on you.

“I’m sorry-“

“I didn’t know your dad,” you say, cutting him off, “so I can’t say for sure what he thought. Even if I had met him, I wouldn’t be able to say. But unless he was completely delusional, then he was able to see what a good kid you are. If he saw that, then he’d know you didn’t hate him. You should talk to your mom about it. She knows your dad better than anyone—I mean, assuming you’re not close to his parents.”

“Yeah, okay. Would you-would you come with me? When I go back home later today?”

You nod your head. “My last class ends at 2:30 pm. Can you wait until then?”

Jisung nods his head. He’s stopped crying, but he can imagine his eyes look glossed over. “Yeah. I’m not going today so I can meet you outside your class. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, let me just send you the classroom number so you remember where it is,” you respond, pulling out your phone. His eyes are drawn to your wrist and to the black line drawn across it.

He’s noticed that recently you have stopped hiding it. Before, you used to wear long sleeves or cover it with make-up. It was weird seeing the initials of his ex-girlfriend written in black across your skin. Next to the black line is the scar with Jaemin’s initials.

“I’m sorry.”

You tilt your head to the side, setting your phone on the table in front of you. “Oh, I don’t mind. I’m happy to come back with you and be there for you. You’re someone I really care about.”

“No, not that. I don’t know why I wasn’t more specific about that. I just mean, I’m sorry about the scar on your arm. From me.”

You raise your hand, twisting it around to look at the scar on the inside of your wrist. “You can’t help who you fall in love with,” you whisper, dropping your wrist. Taking a deep breath, you smile at him, hoping to show that it doesn’t bother you as much anymore. “It’s okay. The actual scar didn’t hurt for long.”

“Yeah, but I wish I weren’t this way. I mean, if I were normal, I wouldn’t draw attention to myself, and you wouldn’t have that scar on your wrist.”

“What do you mean ‘draw attention to yourself?'”

Jisung sighs, looking away from you. “I loved Jaemin, and I liked Gaewon. That’s different than normal. And since I’m that way, I’ll have to tell people, and then they’ll have it in the back of their mind whenever they talk to me that I like both men and women. That I’m bisexual.” He whispers the last part, not even wanting to say the word bisexual.

He’s never said the words “I’m bisexual” out loud before, and he never knew words could be so hard to say. He remembered when he finally decided on a label; he was so happy he almost cried. Here was this label that perfectly described what he felt, and here was this community of people who were telling the same story he was living.

After a few days, however, he found the joy slowly start to seep away. He identifies with the label, yes, but he hates it. Since he found out, he would go through different periods where he was okay with who he was and periods where he hated his label. His whole life, he has never wanted to stand out. Now though, he’ll stand out to anyone who knows. Which, right now, is one too many.

“If it’s any consolation, I’ve known about this side of you for as long as I’ve known we’re soulmates, and I’ve never thought of you any different because of it. You’re the same Park Jisung that spilled coffee on me. If I ever thought about you loving Jaemin, it was never thoughts of disgust or judgment. Maybe jealousy, but never judgment.”

He looks at you, watching your face for any hints of dishonesty. He sighs, averting his eyes. “Thank you y/n. I didn’t mean to talk about this today; I guess I got carried away on the emotion train. But I’ll see you at 2:30?”

You nod your head, smiling softly at him. “Yeah, sounds good. Call me or Jaemin if you need anything else.”

---

You glance over to the boy sitting next to you, nervously bouncing his leg. He seemed different than when you met him that morning; more nervous.

“Is everything okay?”

He glances over at you before returning his gaze to look out the subway window across from your seats. “I just haven’t been back in a long time. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mother very much. It was just too weird with him there. But it will still be just as weird. On top of that, I’m coming back home with my soulmate who I haven’t told her is my soulmate, and I feel bad lying to her. I just feel like if I tell her, there will be some kind of pressure on us to act like traditional soulmates. Which I know is something you want, so then I circle back to feeling this pressure that isn’t even there. Now I’m stress rambling.”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “You’re okay, Jisung. Let’s take that apart point by point. No matter what you do, going back right now is going to be weird. But if you go now, it won’t be as stressful in the future; and that is something to look forward to. Now about us being soulmates. You don’t need to tell her if you don’t want to, but if you feel bad lying, just tell her the truth. And the truth is that we’re waiting for our relationship to develop more before we do anything else. You don’t need to feel bad about jumping straight into a relationship with me because you think that’s what I want to do. What I want to do is whatever you want to do.”

He sighs, ruffling his hair in what you assume to be stress. “But I’m worried you’re just saying that because you know that’s what I want to hear. You can be honest with me. I can take it.”

“I am being honest!” you laugh. “Trust me, Jisung, if I were the type of person to try and force you into a relationship, you’d know.”

He smiles. “Yeah, okay, I’m sorry. I’m letting the stress get to me.”

“Yes, yes you are.” You pat his knee.

---

“This is it,” Jisung whispers as you come to a stop outside an apartment door.

You turn your head to look at him, rubbing his arm in comfort. He sighs, shakily pressing in the code. He rests his hand on the handle, taking a deep breath before pushing the door open. “Mom, I’m back. I brought a friend with me too.”

“Jisung!” his mom laughs. She walks around the corner, wiping her eyes. “You should have told me you were bringing someone! I would’ve cleaned myself up a bit. Hi, I’m Jisung’s mom.”

You smile, bowing in greeting. “Don’t worry about it, Mrs. Park. You look just fine. My name is y/n.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you. But you don’t have to lie.” She smiles briefly before turning to Jisung. Her eyes start to water as soon as they meet his, and you move out of the way so she can hug him. “It’s been so long.”

“I know, mom,” he says, hugging her back. “I’m sorry it took me so long to come back.”

She pulls back, giving him an adoring smile. “Are you guys hungry? It’s around lunchtime, isn't it? Want me to make you something?”

“No, mom,” he shakes his head. “Let’s go out to eat. I imagine you need to get out of the house.”

“No, no, I’m okay,” her voice breaks, and a few more tears escape from her eyes. “Really. I’m okay.”

Your heart breaks, and you smile softly. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Park, that’s on my part. I told Jisung I wanted to take you out to eat since it’s my first time meeting you.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that.” She dabs at her eyes.

“But I want to! Your son and his friend are the only close friends I have, and I want to show you my gratitude for bringing him into this world. He really is an important person to me, and it’s important to tell people that you’re grateful for them.”

She blinks at you a few times, more tears streaming from her eyes. “That’s—thank you for saying that. As a mother, that is the best thing I could ever hear.”

You smile softly. “So you’ll let me take you and your son out to eat?”

She smiles, sniffling. “Yes, of course, I will. Let me go freshen up, and then we can go! Jisung, show our guest to the living room.”

He nods his head. “Yeah, right this way.”

You send his mom a smile before following him to the living room. He sits down on the blue couch across from the tv, patting the spot next to him.

“Thank you for covering for me. I didn’t know how I was going to come back from that,” he says softly, staring blankly ahead.

“No problem. And I meant what I said. I’ve been trying to let people know when I’m grateful for them, and I’d say I’m grateful you’re alive. It’s the least I can do, especially after her loss.”  

“That’s all?”

You tilt your head to the side, laughing at the silly question. "What do you mean ‘that’s all?' What other reason could there be?”

He smiles, shaking his head. “Nothing, never mind.”

“Okay, weirdo.”

“You know, when I was in high school, my mom and I used to watch TV here every night while we ate dinner.”

You smile softly, looking around the room. “Really? That sounds nice.”

He nods his head. “It was. She said she wished we could do family dinners, but they made her feel awkward because it was never something her family did.”

“I get that. As someone who had family dinners whenever both my parents were home, there could be some awkward dinners. Especially after a fight.”

“Yeah, I can imagine,” he sighs. “We’ve always been so close, y/n, so why am I having such a hard time coming up with things to say to her?”

“Because this is an extremely hard thing to deal with,” you answer. “I don’t know what I’m going to say to one of my parents when the other one dies other than that I’m here for them. But I won’t be in the situation you’re in now. You have to figure out how to ask your mom about your dad. My parents may not have been around a lot either, but I know they loved me and I know the type of people they are.”

He leans his body against the couch, sliding down so his head is resetting against the top of the cushion. “When should I ask? Is right now too soon?”

“I don’t know, Jisung. Maybe you should spend some time with her and see where she’s at? But I don’t think waiting is going to help anything either. If you can spend the night, I would do that. Then you don’t have to feel like there’s any type of rush.”

"Would you,” he hesitates, turning his head to look at you. His eyes look so tired. “Would you be able to stay with me?”

You open your mouth, ready to tell him you have work early in the morning and would only make it if you left before they work up. But the longer you look at his eyes, the more you can tell he needs you. You smile softly, nodding your head. “You’re lucky tomorrow is Saturday. Let me just call into work and tell them a family member passed away.”

His eyes widen, and he pushes himself back into a sitting position. “No, you don’t have to do that for me.”

“Nonsense. You’re my family, so therefore he was my family. I’d do the same for Chenle or Jaemin, assuming they didn’t ask someone else. Well, I’d do it for Chenle whether he asks or not, I’m afraid I love him too much.”

He smiles, not breaking eye contact. You try to give him what you hope is a comforting smile, finding it hard not to let it turn into a shy smile. There wasn’t anything different about the way he was smiling at you—it always made your heart skip a beat.

Ever since Jisung told you he would be willing to take it slow with you, you have found that his smiles are more heart-fluttering, and his normal characteristics are more charming. For the first time in your life, you understand what it means to have a crush on someone.

"Okay, I'm ready to go!" Mrs. Park announces, walking into the room, digging around in her purse for something. "Where were you thinking of going?"

"Wherever your favorite restaurant is," you answer, pushing yourself off the couch.

She laughs. "Okay, how about we go to your favorite restaurant, Jisung? The Italian one?"

"Yeah!" Jisung answers, and you jump slightly at how unexpectedly close he was. "I haven't been there in forever."

"Italian it is then! Let's go."

--

Jisung doesn’t know what to feel.

He didn’t think he’d be able to sleep tonight. After he got the call from his mother about his dad’s death, he knew he was going to be up all night thinking about their time together and how unnecessarily mean he had been at times. Because of you, however, he had the strength to ask his mom questions he otherwise would have never asked. Because of you, he was able to hear that his father loved him the best way he knew how. That his mother had known him for a very long time, had seen his relationships with other people, and knew that his dad loved him more than anyone in the world. She showed him a box of memories his father had been saving for when he turned 21. Inside were photos of him from when he was younger.

She told him she thought he was a very sad man. She thinks he wanted to love her, but he couldn’t. She doesn’t know why, and when he asked what made her think such a thing, she just shrugged.

“I know how it looked, Jisung-ah,” she had said. “He did stay out late, he sometimes stayed out for days on end, and he felt distant from us. I know sometimes it felt like he was just this person instead of a father. Believe me, sometimes it didn’t even feel like I was married. I can’t explain it exactly, but I just got the feeling he wanted to love us but couldn’t. Maybe it was the box he made me promise to never tell you about or the new toys that would sometimes appear out of nowhere when you were a kid or the gifts that would be mailed to my office on our wedding anniversary or my birthday that makes me think this. I think he knew what was right, but he just didn’t feel those things, and I think that made it hard for him to be around us.”

While that didn’t make the past better, and he still holds a little resentment towards his dad for treating his mother so poorly, he thinks he might be able to better come to terms with his death. Even though he doesn’t know if he can say his dad was a good dad, he might be able to say he did his best.

In the end, his mom thinks his dad loved him. When he had tearfully asked her if she thought his dad thought he hated him, she told him that she doubted the thought had ever crossed his mind.

So when he set off to bed tonight, even though he wasn’t excited to share a bed with his mother—he had found out at a pretty young age that he hated sharing a bed with people—he thought he would be able to sleep tonight. That because the thoughts of his father weren’t taking up as much space in his mind as they used to, he would be okay. The thoughts of you, however, are loud enough to keep him up.

He has told himself that there can never be anything between you two because you’re soulmates. He had planned to let this continue until the end of college, where you would both go your separate ways, and he would try and let you down in a way that didn’t make you completely hate him. But lately, you’ve been turning his plan upside down.

He isn’t sure when exactly the plan started to go astray, but he does know that today was the wake-up call he needed to see things weren’t going how he planned. Maybe it was because of how emotional today was that he is suddenly feeling a strong pull towards you. He just knows that the way you helped him with his mom, the way you dropped everything to stay the night with him, and the way you constantly made him feel loved makes him want to spend every second of the day with you.  

“Shit,” he whispers, quickly covering his mouth and turning his head to see if he woke his mother up.

Falling for someone has never scared him before. Granted, he doesn’t have that much experience, the two times he had done it hadn’t scared him. Sure, falling for Jaemin had been worrying at times, but it never scared him. This—you—terrified him.

He wasn’t supposed to catch feelings for you. Hell, he wasn’t even supposed to meet you. Jisung sighs, flipping onto his other side and hugging the blanket closer to himself. He focuses on the warmth of his mother next to him and on trying to hear her breathing. He’ll deal with this tomorrow.

---

“Good morning dear, y/n made breakfast.”

Jisung freezes in place, looking between you and his mom sat at the small dining table.

“There’s some food in the pan on the stove. Grab a bowl and come join us,” his mom suggests, pulling out the chair between you two and smiling up at him.

He slowly nods his head, looking between you both once again before turning around towards the pan. “What is it?”

“It’s eggs and tomato. It’s one of Chenle’s favorite dishes, and I learned how to make it the other day,” you answer. “I was told I wasn’t allowed to leave until I got the recipe down. So since I had to deal with Chenle lovingly criticizing my every move, I thought, why not try it out on you two.”  

“Chenle, that’s an interesting name. Are they your soulmate?”

“No, he’s just their friend,” Jisung answers, staring down as he sets his plate on the table and takes the seat next to his mom.

He looks up as he scoots his chair closer to the table, quickly averting his eyes as he makes eye contact with you. He doesn’t miss the strange look you give him.

“Oh, okay. Sorry I assumed. I just thought that because you knew his favorite food, you must be soulmates. But thinking about it now, he could’ve also been your sibling,” his mom laughs.

“It’s okay, Mrs. Park. He and I are very compatible—sometimes it surprises me that we aren’t soulmates.”

She laughs, reaching over to pat your hand. “Well, I’m glad to hear that you have such a good friend. Jisung here has never bothered to bring the infamous Jaemin over. I have no way of knowing if my Jisung is in good hands.”

Jisung looks at his mother, holding her stare as she smiles at him. He knows she’s trying to embarrass him; she never talks like this. He squints slightly at her—he isn’t going to let her win.

You laugh, and he breaks eye contact with his mom to look over at you.

“Having met Jaemin, I can assure you he and Jisung are just as compatible as me and Chenle. He’s a great match for Jisung.”

“Well, if you’re any indication in his choice of friends, then I’m sure he’s great. It’s been a joy getting to know you, and I really appreciate you being here for my son. Speaking of,” she turns her attention away from you and looks at him, her eyes changing from teasing to sad. “I think I’m going to spend a few weeks with my mom. It’s—” she pauses, looking around the room. “It’s too hard being here.”

Jisung tilts his head to the side, setting his spoon down. “Of course, mom. Do you need me and y/n to help you pack some stuff?”

She shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. I only ask that you stay here with me until I’m done packing. I’m used to the house being quiet, but this is too much.”

You nod your head. “Yeah, of course. When you sleep in someone’s room, you get a sense of who they really are. And I have some questions for your son.”

Jisung scrunches his nose, and before he can respond in some sarcastic way, his mother interrupts him.

“I think that’s a great idea. You guys hang out, Jisung, show your friend the photo album, and then we can all leave together!”

He nods his head, smiling softly at his mom. “Okay, yeah, that’s a good idea.”

She smiles at you two before she pushes back the chair and walks to her room. Jisung lets a silence settle between you two for a second before he takes a deep breath and picks up his bowl. “Ready to go?”

You nod your head, pushing back your chair and following him to his room.

“Was the bed comfortable?”

“Yeah, thanks again for letting me take your bed.”

He nods his head, turning the knob and pushing open the door. “No problem. You’re already doing me a huge favor by staying here with me. The least I can do is let you sleep in an actual bed. Now have a seat on the bed. There was something I wanted to show you, so this is a good chance to show you.”

You nod your head, taking a seat on his bed and crossing your legs. He sets his bowl on the ground before walking over to his dresser and pulling out a photo book from the bottom drawer. He takes a seat next to you on the bed, setting the book between you two before bending forward to pick his bowl back up.

“This is my own photo album. I don’t think my mom even knows about this one.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Why doesn’t she know about it?”

He shrugs, taking a bite of his food. “I started it as a way for me to have my own album. When I was younger, I loved looking through my mom’s photo albums, and I wanted to start one for my future kids. One day, I was going through photos with her, and she threw away some photos she didn’t like. But those photos were important to me, so when she left the room, I took them from the trash and kept them here.”

“That’s sweet, Jisung.”

He shrugs. “You can look through it.”

Jisung hasn’t looked through this album in forever. Granted, when he was younger, he only ever looked through it when adding a new photo—which wasn’t often. This time, however, until this morning, he forgot he even had this album. He watches as you flip through the album, smiling at the photos of his first cat and some photos when he went to camp.

He lets his eyes drift from the album up to you. You’re smiling down at the album, commenting on how cute he was as a kid. Sitting here with you feels like something from a movie. He is sitting with you, on his bed, him finishing his breakfast and you wearing one of his shirts and pajama pants—they were technically his dad’s, but they had been put in his room a long time ago, and he never bothered to give them back—and he’s showing you something he’s never shown anyone. It feels surreal.

He puts the spoon in his mouth without any food and lets it hang there, hand still holding onto the handle. His thoughts from last night suddenly come rushing back, and he feels slightly anxious. He's falling for you, and he is slowly accepting that. But now that he's starting to accept that, he feels anxious not telling you. At the same time, the idea of telling you makes him anxious. He inwardly sighs, why is life so hard?

“Hey, Jisung,” you say, lightly touching his arm. “Is the spoon better than the food?”

He shakes his head and takes the spoon out of his mouth. “Hum? What do you mean?”

You laugh softly. “I asked you a question, and you didn’t answer. So I looked up, and you were just sitting there with a spoon in your mouth. I tried to make a joke, but I’m not very funny.”

“Oh, no, sorry. The food was great, all of Chenle’s loving nagging paid off. It’s just a thing I do when I finish my food, and I guess I got lost in thought. What was your question?”

“I was just asking who this was,” you answer, pointing to a photo.

“Oh, that’s Eunseong, one of my mom’s old friends.” He smiles down at the photo. It was a photo of him, his mom, and Eunseong looking for a Christmas tree. “He lived with us for a while.”

“Can I ask why?”

“When I was in fifth grade, my dad got transferred down to Busan for a year. Not that my dad helped all that much, but mom thought she needed more help so she invited Eunseong to live with us for a year. I think she just wanted to have someone you know? This was one of the photos she threw out.”

“What? Even though it is none of my business, why did she do that? You all look so happy.”

“Well, he felt like I did about my dad and wanted my mom to leave him. His soulmate had died, and I think he had feelings for her. Anyways, I remember there being this argument where he said that if she didn’t leave my dad, then he was done with us. They thought I was asleep, it was like five am so I was supposed to be. I remember her crying and nothing else. But the next few days he was still there and I thought it would be okay. Then, like a week before my dad came home, they got into another fight. I’m not sure what this one was about, but it was really bad. He yelled at her, and then he just left. He just left her, crouched on the floor and bawling her eyes out. I didn’t know what to say, so I just sat there with her. I decided then that I wouldn’t miss him. He came back the next day while I was at school, grabbed his stuff, and left.”

A silence settles over you two once again, eyes never leaving the photo.

“I’m sorry,” you finally say. “That sounds hard. But why would you want to keep this photo?”

“He was still part of my life. He was only with us for one year, but he actually ate with us on the couch. And while I’ve never thought I needed a constant father figure in my life, he was the closest thing I had to one. I remember that year when we were making gifts for our parents on parents day, I told the teacher I had two dads—one stepdad and one dad,” He shakes his head, trying to get his thoughts back on track, “Anyway, the point of the story was to say that while I may not have liked him at the end, he was still an important part of my life. And I think it’s important to remember him.”

“I agree with you. I think it’s important to remember even the hurtful memories. They help us grow.”

He nods his head in agreement. “I even have some of my parents' wedding photos; despite my mother hating how she looks in them. Of course, she still has some in her albums, but none of them are out to see. I think she looks beautiful in them.”

He turns the page and finds the photo of his mom and dad at their wedding. The photo he has is one of his favorites; one where his mom and dad are standing next to their parents. He always loved this photo because his mother looked so radiant. Aside from that, the idea that there was once a time his mom and dad were happy is something he’s always dreamed about. He knew, however, that the smiles in the photos weren’t one hundred percent genuine on his mother’s part. She always mentioned how stressed she was when planning it and that she was glad she never had to do it again.

“She is beautiful,” you agree.

“My dad looks so young,” he comments quietly.

“He’s very handsome. I guess you take after him.”

“No, I don’t look like either of my parents. My mom says I have his eyes, but I’ve never been able to see it.”

“Okay, be that as it may, I was just trying to compliment you on your looks and you should take the compliment.”

You laugh softly, and normally, Jisung would’ve laughed with you. This time, he just looks at you. The more he thinks about it, the more you and Jaemin have similar characteristics. You both care for him, you both have that teasing attitude (although Jaemin is more… aggressive with his actions), and you both mean the world to him. He thought that once he found out you were his soulmate, he would realize how incompatible you two are; how unfit you two are to be a couple.

Being here with you, watching as you cared for him and his mother in little ways, has made him realize how close to perfect you two could be.

“Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry if I did.”

“No, it’s not that. I just think—”

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” his mom says, poking her head into the room. “but I think I should let you two know I’ll be ready to leave soon so if you want to leave with me you might want to change now. Of course, you guys can stay after I leave, I just thought I’d let you two know.”

“Are you okay with leaving with her or do you want some more time to get ready?” He asks turning his attention back to you.

“We can leave with you, Mrs. Park. Let me just go get changed, I’ll do the dishes, and then I’ll be ready to go.”

“Oh you don’t have to do the dishes,” Jisung says.

“Nonsense. I’m the one who made the mess in a house that isn’t mine, I should be the one to clean it up,” you answer pushing yourself off the bed.

“Really, I don’t mind. You cooked us food. Plus you’re my guest, what kind of a host would I be if I let you do more than you already have?”

“Park Jisung,” you say, not turning to look at him as you bend to pick up your folded pile of clothes. “If you don’t let me do these dishes, I will get your roommate to lock you out of your dorm for a week, leaving you cold and sad.”

“You do that and I’ll get Jaemin Hyung to—”

“Oh, you’ll get him to do what?”  

“Well, if you’d let me finish, I’d be able to tell you now wouldn’t I?”

“Like you have it in your heart to hurt me.”

He rolls his eyes, a small smile breaking out. “Okay one, I never said I’d hurt you. And two, right now it isn’t hard to imagine causing you a small inconvenience.”

“Did you hear that Mrs. Park? Your son is threatening me,” you walk towards his mom, stopping once you’re next to her.

His mom laughs, shaking her head slightly. “My my Jisung, how college has changed you. That is no way to treat a friend.”

“That’s low l/n, telling on me to my mom.”

You wink at him over your shoulder. “I’m here to win, Park.”

Before he can get another word in, you’re already walking towards the bathroom.

“I’m glad you have a friend like that,” his mom says softly.

“Yeah, me too.” He turns his attention away from the last place you where to his mother. “Hey mom?”

“Yeah hun?”

“I- uh,” he starts hesitantly, rubbing his hands together nervously. “Can you come here a sec? And could you close the door? I want to talk to you privately.”

“Yeah, of course,” she answers, quickly closing the door and taking your spot on the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing’s wrong. I just—I just want to thank you. You’ve always been there for me, and I want you to know that I appreciate it.”

“You don’t need to thank me, I’m just doing my job as a mother. Is that all you needed to talk to me about?” She asks, worry lacing her tone.

“No, not exactly. I, um, I met my soulmate.”

He looks up from his hands in time to see his mother’s eyes widen and she excitedly pulls him into a hug. “Oh my gosh Jisung! That’s great, I’m so excited for you.”

He hugs her “Yeah, it’s been something.”

His mom pulls away, a bright smile spread across her face. “I always thought you didn’t know what your mark was; what’s your mark? Tell me about her.”

“It’s the tally mark one. See?” He turns his wrist out so she can see the black tally mark spread across his skin. She grabs his wrist, lightly tracing over the black line.  “But before I tell you about my soulmate, I have a few things I want to talk about.”

“Sure, go for it.”

“If I— if my—” he takes a deep breath, “Sorry, I’m kind of nervous.”

“No it’s okay baby, take your time. But I am kind of worried, is there anything wrong?”

“No no, nothing is wrong. Well, hopefully not anyways. If my soulmate were a... if they were a boy how would you feel?”

His mom freezes, and he quickly averts his eyes to his hands. I can’t believe I said that, I should have waited to tell her. God, what am I thinking?

“Is your soulmate a boy?” She asks hesitantly.

“I—just if they were, what would you feel? If I dated someone or liked someone who was a man, what would you say?”

“I don’t know Jisung, I’ve never thought about it,” she takes a deep breath, and he can tell she isn’t any less relaxed. “If I’m being honest, because you know how I feel about beating around the bush, it would make me slightly uncomfortable. But it’s not because I have anything against your soulmate being a man, I would prefer them to be a woman, it’s just because it’s different. Different is hard. But who you date or who your soulmate is won’t change the fact that you’re my son and I love you with my whole heart. I would die for you, Jisung, and while I might find it uncomfortable at first I could get over it.”

Jisung looks up at his mom, feeling his eyes well with tears. “Do you mean that? You really wouldn’t care?”

She nods her head self-assured. “Like I said, I would prefer it if it were a woman, but we can’t help who our soulmates are. If they just so happen to be a man, I’ll get over my hesitance towards it. But I don’t want you to worry about what I think, Jisung. You just need to live your life however that is.”

He feels a few tears escape his eyes. “I—thank you. Thank you.”

Jisung never knew how much of a weight this question had been bearing on him. While the answer isn’t exactly an ideal answer, it is still better than what he feared she would say. The fact that his mother is willing to change for him is good enough.

“Now,” his mom smiles, patting his knee. “Why don’t you go get changed and then we can leave together? It was an emotional day yesterday, and I think we both need to leave this house.”

Jisung nods his head, smiling weakly at his mother as she walks out the room. Jisung spent a lot of time in the house alone, so he is used to the house being quiet. His mom is right, though, now that his father is dead, the house is too quiet. He hasn’t been left alone since he got here, but now that he’s sitting alone in his room he understands what his mother was talking about. Even though his dad wasn’t around much, it still felt weird being in the house knowing his dad wasn’t going to be coming through the door ever again, no matter how late.

Taking a deep breath, he pushes himself off the bed and walks towards the closet. Pulling open the middle drawer, he looks down at the cloths inside. He hasn’t worn these clothes since he left for college. They are mostly the clothes his father had given him before he left.

It was when he had been away on a business trip for a week in Buyeo and he came home with three pairs of jeans and two shirts. It is the proudest he can remember his dad being of him. Even if he had tried to pass it off as his mom had told him that Jisung was running out of good clothes to wear and if he passed any clothing stores to get something. The fact that he even got him a congratulatory gift for getting into college had made Jisung falter.

“The one nice thing I know he actually did for me, and I never even showed him I appreciated it,” he whispers, smiling sadly as he pulls one of the shirts and one of the pants out of the drawer.

“I really want to thank you,” he hears his mom say as he leaves his room. “It means a lot to me that you’re here for my son.”

“Jisung is someone really important to me, Mrs. Park. You did a good job with him.”

“I don’t know what Jisung has told you about my husband, but he helped a little too. I think him being as… absent as he was really helped shape him into the person he is today.”

He leans against his door, listening to his mom talk. They have never really talked about his dad much, other than the few times he asked his mom why she stayed. It was new hearing her talk about him like this.

“Well, you and Mr. Park did an amazing job raising your son. Like I said, he’s an amazing person and someone who means a lot to me and Jaemin.”

“Yeah, yeah we did a good job didn’t we?”

---

“Will you come get some coffee or something with me?” Jisung asks, nervously messing with his hands behind his back.

“Sure! So long as it isn’t the place I work. I’m supposed to be grieving with family,” you answer, smiling brightly at him.

“Before we met you, there was a favorite place me and Jaemin Hyung loved to go. Let’s go there!”

You nod once, linking your arm with his and following him as he leads you down the street.

Jisung feels his heart skip a beat and he smiles to himself. After his talk with his mom, he feels like he can do anything. He had plans to talk to you today no matter what, but knowing his mom was accepting of who he was helped him feel more confident. As Jaemin would remind him constantly, confidence is key.

It didn’t take long for you to get to the shop from the bus station. When he enters the shop, he looks around in wonder. It had been a year since he had been here and it still looks the same. Along with his mom accepting him, it helped to be in a place he was comfortable with.

“What do you want to drink? I’m paying,” he offers as you’re both staring at the menu.

“You don’t have to do that Jisung,” you answer slowly, still reading the menu. “I can pay for myself.”

“Nonsense, you paid for our dinner last night, this is on me.”

“If you’re sure,” you answer hesitantly. “I’ll order, and then I’ll go get us a table.”

“It’s nice out, why don’t we sit outside?”.

You raise your hand to flash him an okay sign before walking up to the register and ordering. He watches as you smile at the cashier, nodding your head once before you turn towards the left and out the side door towards the outside seating.

“God, today feels so long,” you sigh, leaning over the back of the chair and stretching your arms out.

Jisung chuckles. “Yeah, and it’s only one in the afternoon.”  

“When I get back to my dorm, I’m just going to lounge.”

“That sounds like a good plan. Hey y/n,”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Yeah?”

“I’m feeling really good right now. Well, let me rephrase that. It’s been an emotional few days. And in those few days, you have been there for me. These past few days, my dad has died, I talked to my mom to try and figure out the mess that is my relationship with my father, and then I talked to my mother about her feelings on me dating a man. So overall, I’ve been all over the place the past two days.” He laughs and you laugh nervously with him. “My point is, you’ve been there for me. You’ve been there for me despite how complicated I made our relationship, however many weeks ago.”

You awkwardly laugh, and Jisung worries he’s made you uncomfortable. “You don’t need to thank me, Jisung. That’s what friends are for.”

“Um yeah, but we’re not friends. We’re soulmates.”

Your face drops. “I tried to take things slow. I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I’ve been trying to keep things normal. I’m so sorry.”

“Are you done?” Jisung asks, trying to smile comfortingly despite how much he was freaking out on the inside.

“Yeah, yeah I’m done. Just know that I’m so sorry if I forced this whole soulmate thing on you.”

“Okay, first of all, you should be able to see that I’m trying to tell you how grateful I am for you. Did you miss the part at the beginning where I told you how you’ve been there for me?”

“I thought that was a way of you saying ‘you overstepped your boundaries as my soulmate being just a friend’ and that you needed space from me,” you answer quietly.

“You shouldn’t think so much,” he chuckles. “I said what I said to show you that I’m thankful for what you’ve done for me and my family.”

“Oh, well like I said, it’s what friends are for.”

“And like I said, we’re not friends; we’re soulmates.”

“See, that right there,” you point a finger at him, shaking it slightly, “This is what confused me. What is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, we’re soulmates. That’s what the tally marks on our wrist mean.”

You blink at him. “I’m aware of that, Jisung.”

“And you’ll have to forgive me, because I know I’ve been going about this all wrong but I’m really nervous right now.” He clears his throat, smiling nervously. “What I was trying to say is that you’ve been there for me the past two days. Had this happened five months ago, Jaemin Hyung would have been the one in your place. I’ll be honest, at first, I wasn’t sure why I even called you. I mean yeah, things with Hyung haven’t been the easiest since he found his soulmate, but he’s still someone I find comfort in; he’s my best friend. But since I spent this time with you, you have shown me how much you love me. Let me just say, it’s nice knowing someone loves me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted; someone besides my mom to love me unconditionally.”

“How do you know I love you unconditionally?” You joke, but he can see it in your eyes that you’re nervous.

“Well I guess you never said those words specifically. But you said you’ve loved me since you were a kid, and that just makes me feel warm inside. I think I should chase that feeling.”

“Jisung I’m still not understanding.”

“I’m saying, I think I want to try being soulmates.”

Your eyes widen, and he can tell you’re fighting back a smile. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to be caught up in everything that’s happened and just tell me what you think I want to hear. I don’t want you to regret this.”

“I won’t regret this, y/n. The only reason I didn’t ask you sooner is because you’re my soulmate. I held you to this standard that we would be an unfit match together, and thankfully you failed to meet that standard. I think we would be a good fit.”

Jisung watches a wide smile spread across your face. “Jisung I promise you you’re not going to regret this. We’ll go as slow as you want to and you let me know anytime I make you uncomfortable. This—thank you Jisung, thank you so much.”

He mirrors your smile. He knew you were going to agree to this, but there was still that underlying fear that you’d reject him. “I know, trust me I know. I want to thank you once again for being patient with me. I know I’ve probably been taking this slower that you would’ve liked, but you have been so understanding of me. Even when I was being selfish.”

“Well, all you needed was for me to point out your self centeredness and you snapped right out of it,” you respond, leaning back in your chair.

He smiles, nodding in agreement. “Yeah yeah, you were right. But look where we are now! We’re able to sit here and have a nice cup of drink.”

You laugh loudly, a sweet smile still spread across your face. “Yes, we are having a nice cup of drink. Nicely put Park.”

“Thank you thank you, Korean is my first language” he tips his head slightly as a bow.  “You know,” he starts slowly, averting his eyes to look down at his cup he has yet to take a drink from. “If you are having a good time, this could be our first date?”  

When you don’t answer right away, he looks up at you. “Or, don’t be afraid to say no. I didn’t even ask you. Not that it has to be me who asks for the first date, I just thought that since we’re waiting on me to be ready, I should be the one to ask.”

Laughing, you cover your mouth with your hand. “I am so happy right now even your rambling is cute.”

“You should move your hand away from your mouth when you speak, it isn’t very polite.”

“Awww, look at you,” you coo, leaning forward onto the table. “You’re embarrassed. You're clenching and unclenching your fist and you won’t look me in the eye. You’re so cute.”

“I can take back my offer, you know. I’m not afraid to take back my offer, and leave you here,” he threatens. He knows you don’t take him seriously, based on the euphoric smile plastered on your face. That, and the fact his words hold no truth to them. You have him pegged.

“Oh come on,” you whine. “The date has already started, you can’t back out now Park.”

“Oh, so you are agreeing to this being a date?” He cringes slightly at how excited his voice sounds.

“Of course I am! Jisung, I’ve been waiting for this moment since I was little. So sitting here, with my wonderful soulmate who bought me a nice cup of drink, why wouldn’t I say yes?”

He nods his head once, smiling widely. “I um, wow I’ll be honest I thought you were going to say no. I had plans to take you to dinner or something.”

“You can still take me to dinner, can’t say I’d complain.”

“Yeah, but I have to keep the bar low. If I start at the top,” he brings his right hand up a few inches above the table, “then I can only go down. But if I start here,” he brings his left hand up and dramatically sets it on the table, almost spilling his drink, “then I can only go up.”

“Ah, good plan, good plan. Do tell, what comes next from here?”

“I’m thinking a few convenience store runs, maybe a trip to the zoo or something. We got to slowly build our way up, you know?”

You nod your head thoughtfully. “Yeah okay, that sounds smart. I mean, it’s not like we’re soulmates or anything so why try and impress me right?”

He snaps his fingers, pointing at you. “See, look at you go, you smart little thing.”

You roll your eyes, picking up your drink and blowing softly on it. He shakes his head, smiling softly.

“Hey y/n?”

“Hm?” you hum, finally taking a sip of your drink.

“I think we’re going to be really happy.”

You bite your lip, smiling as you set your cup down. “Yeah, yeah I think so too.”

---

Okay! Sorry for how weird this was posted, I’m the slowest reader alive so it took me forever to do the final read through. Thank you yo @jiwvnie for reading more than I told her she had to, I truly appreciate her. I have always wanted to write a soulmate au so I would love to know what you thought of this. 

Have a great day/night!!

Masterlist

[sunjaesol]

written kind of caffeinated, kind of stoned, kind of sleep-deprived juke | 2043 words | pure fluff

He knew that, rationally, he shouldn’t do it. The word “boundary!” blared in his head and the whole thing was really inconsequential and it was so stupid, but Luke simply couldn’t help himself. Was it because of his crush on her? Most definitely. Should that awareness stop him from doing dumb shit like this? Yes, except here he was.

While Julie was at school, she accidentally let the lights in her room on. And so, Luke poofed from the studio into her room to turn them off. Saving power, right? Doing the right thing, being a good person, definitely not going into her room because it was her room.

There was something relaxing about the space though. A sense of serenity falling on his shoulders every time he stepped inside and let his eyes wander and settle on new nooks and corners he hadn’t discovered yet. F+J scratched in the wood of her wardrobe, a box of pretty seashells, four tubes of the exact same mascara in her vanity. It felt familiar and human and simple and so, so Julie.

He flicked the lights off, the only light source being the sun pouring in and casting the room in a gentle glow. Her pink walls were gentler now, the colour of peaches and reminding him of summer nights with his boys on the beach. (It also reminded him of Julie’s peach deodorant that always hung around her and involuntarily made him zero in on her. Alex would argue he was always looking at her, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that the thought of peaches only held fond memories - new memories that now included her too.)

Alright. The lights were off. He did his good deed. He should go back to the boys… 

His feet moved on their own accord and plopped down on her bed, sinking into the mattress. His hands caressed the soft comforter, a smile tugging on his lips that thank the fucking music gods, he could still touch and feel things. He would’ve gone insane in an instant if they weren’t able to be in contact with anything or anyone. It was unfathomable to Luke - not hugging Reggie or massaging Alex’s shoulders or grabbing Julie’s hand. To him, music was just another way to share that sensation of contact with people. Didn’t matter if it was loud and rough or quiet and intimate, a ballad or a rock anthem. Connection: that was all he ever needed. 

His fingers slid further and suddenly he was laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. Oh, man. Now he really couldn’t leave. Her bed was so comfortable! Definitely better than the mattress he had at his folks or, even worse, the couch. That thing broke his back the last months. Ha, Luke noted bitterly, maybe it was better that he hit the bucket then. Rather dead and setting the stage on fire than living with a hernia, right? 

Though Luke still slept (habit? he guessed?), he has never felt sleepy. The boys just hung around or hit the streets and then eventually felt that tug of human normalcy. “Maybe we should go to sleep, guys. Big day ahead.” He didn’t dream. It was just black. It wasn’t unwelcome; just… empty. 

But here, laying on Julie’s bed and letting his eyes blur and rest, Luke felt sleepy. Sufficiently exhausted. He didn’t know where that sudden slam of the hammer came from, but he kind of liked it. It made him feel like he was the one that went to school today, or had a tiring shift at some fast food shack, or played a gig. He stretched himself like a star, grinned as all the joints in his back popped, and then rolled on his side. Fucking heaven. 

‘What’re you doing here?’

The faraway voice lulled the groggy Luke awake. He felt like he was hit by a truck. Where was he? 

‘Hmph?’

She chuckled, his mind speeding up at just the sound and realising that shit, he did fall asleep on her bed and she caught him. His eyes cracked open, coming face to face with an amused Julie hovering on the side of the bed. His brain supplied him with the thought that she looked pretty, reminding him once again that yup, he still liked her. A sheepish smile crawled on his lips. 

‘Hey, Jules.’

She rolled her eyes and then roughly pushed him to the other side of the bed. He squeaked, grabbing onto the comforter as to not fall off and gawked at her. 

‘Dude!’

‘This is my side of the bed,’ Julie said, pointing at the indent he made. ‘If you’re going to sleep here, it’s on the other side.’

He let out a relieved breath. ‘You’re not mad?’

‘Depends.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Why were you in my room?’

Waving his hands towards the ceiling, he muttered. ‘Your lights were still on.’

His reply visibly mellowed her, so much that it kind of surprised him. Her smile melted into those she gave him whenever he found a gnarly lyric or impressed her with a riff or met her halfway for the mic onstage. During those moments, it was hard to deny there wasn’t more, that both knew there was more, but couldn’t really do anything about it. It was really depressing. “Yeah, Jules, I’m fucking crazy about you. Wanna make out and hope I don’t disappear the next day?” Even his impulsive streak wasn’t that extreme. 

He hadn’t expected her to smile like that right now. Not when he laid on her bed and her hair was begging for his fingers to slip through and the spot he slept on was still warm. He almost poofed away. Were they going to touch on the “more”? Was this it? 

‘Thanks,’ she eventually whispered, eyes dropping and meeting his again with a shyer smile and he knew he was sporting the exact same. A beat passed between them, eyes locked and unwavering. His fingers twitched. 

‘Uh…’ Mustering back some rationality, he said: ‘Do you want me to leave, or?’

Her hands stretched out. ‘No!’ Face twisting to something he could only describe as “cringe”, she went on a little calmer. ‘You can- it’s fine. I’m just going to do some homework anyway.’

He watched as she and her backpack found a place on the bed, both very close and very far away all at once. It shouldn’t be intimate, but it was. He was seventeen and she was sixteen and he was pretty sure his crush wasn’t completely one-sided and she just allowed him to stay. There wasn’t music or a guitar or a songbook to hide behind and it sort of terrified him. But in a good way? Like when he went cliff diving and stood at the edge, stomach whooping at the thought of jumping, or when he was at the top of a rollercoaster and the cart slowly began to tilt. It was that. The feeling of quiet exhilaration. 

All of that just cause Julie sat next to him bend over a history worksheet. Get a fucking grip, dude. 

He didn’t know how long she worked on her homework or how long he stared at the ceiling, hands weaved beneath his head, but it mustn’t been long. The weight shifted and suddenly Julie’s head fell on her pillow with a sigh. 

‘No, no, no, Julie,’ he teased, ‘gotta keep those grades up, right?’

She rolled on her side to stick her tongue out. ‘Very funny. You maybe don’t remember it anymore, but school’s exhausting.’

Luke also shifted on his side, chuckling. ‘Jules, it haunts me. That’s why I dropped out.’

‘Cute pun.’

‘Thanks.’ And then, because Luke was never one to overthink: ‘I like this.’

That smile of her came back, the one he always wanted to see. Her eyes crinkled and her lips slightly parted and so incredibly beautiful. He heard music when he looked at her. Death became sweeter if it meant he’d get to stare at the girl of his dreams. It was a morbid thought, but then again, he didn’t deem himself dead whenever he was around her. Luke probably felt so alive around her that it surprised him later on that he wasn’t. 

He wasn’t a ghost. Not to her. She didn’t need to tell him for him to know that. 

Julie tentatively held her hand out in the space between, palm up and smudged with ink. When he placed his on top, fingers barely intertwining but the sensation like a shot of oxygen, she murmured: ‘Me too.’

They didn’t plan for it to become routine, but it also felt kind of inevitable. Nearly every day, Luke would go to Julie’s room when he knew her day at school was nearing its end and waited on her. She’d come in and briefly recapitulate the day (usually some story regarding an annoying teacher and Flynn with a killer comeback), sliding down on her side of the bed and hold his hands. Some days, her fingertips quietly wandered the lines on his palms, some days his did. It was always quiet. Though the only ones in her room, they whispered. This wasn’t a secret (the boys were keenly aware where Luke spent his afternoons), but it felt wrong to speak at a normal volume when the other was so close.  

As the days progressed, they shifted closer. Not intentional, but once again inevitable. Everything about them felt like that nowadays. The longer he was around, the more he realised that this - the bond he shared with Julie - was always meant to happen. Whenever his thoughts meandered to those cosmically impossible ideas of serendipity and couldn’t wrap his head around it, Julie was always there with her smile to bring him back to earth. Or, well, to bed.

And then one day, Julie came home from school, saw him, and without saying anything, crawled right into his chest. His heartbeat didn’t pick up like he expected. It eased and relaxed, sinking deeper into the matress as his eyes fell shut from pure fucking bliss and hugged her closer. Her peach deodorant overwhelmed his senses in the best way possible, burrowing his face in her neck and her smile stretching against his sweater. She was warm and perfectly fit into the curve of his body and he was in love. The acceptance should’ve ached, but it didn’t. How could he think about tomorrow when Julie Molina was wrapped in his arms?

Time froze those afternoons. As long as she kept her head on his chest, as long as they didn’t leave the bed, their island, then nothing could hurt them. 

One afternoon, when the sun was reflecting pink and purple splotches on the walls and he was contently dissecting each curl, his heart so full it could explode, he said it. ‘I wanna do this forever.’

He felt her chuckle. ‘Inspecting my hair like a monkey, or…?’

Luke squeezed her closer. ‘C’mon, Jules.’

Her giggles quieted, chin sliding up his chest to look at him. If she found devotion shimmering behind the green, she was correct. He hoped that the warm flickering in her brown ones was the same. 

Her voice was small. ‘You do?’

He nodded, every movement too big or too loud, afraid it would ruin the perfect quietude surrounding them. The room melted away, her face all that was left. Before he let the tug in his chest (the same thread that looped them in this embrace) guide him closer, she got there first. Julie surged upwards, barely needing to close any distance to softly find his lips. He cradled her cheek, warmth brimming from every pore on his skin, love pouring from his lips onto hers. It was short and sweet, but their smiles as they did were anything but. It felt like the first flower blooming in spring. Giddy, he kissed her again. He loved her. (It was inevitable.) 

Julie hummed an unknown melody in his ear, lilting and just as giddy, her fingers circling right above his heart. It stammered to blend with hers. Luke met her gaze, noses brushing and smiles private and eyes adoring. She loved him. (It was inevitable.)

‘Then let’s do it forever.’

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

Let Me Get Close To You

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Explicit (E) Notes: This is my fic for my @starkerfestivals summer BINGO “wrong number” square. I sat down to write this a couple of days ago & just couldn’t stop - I hope you guys enjoy the cute little verse I created (that I’ll more than likely revisit soon!!). Here’s my bingo card  - if you see something on there you might want written, shoot me a message!!!  Word Count: 7K Warnings: There’s a tiny bit of smut in here, but it’s me writing, so when is that not the case? Summary: 

Stuck with the worst professor for Nuclear Science, Peter tries to vent his frustrations to Ned - only to send a desperate text message to Tony Stark, instead. When an immediate spark and so many things in common make it easy for Peter to fall further for the elegant genius, what’s the worst that could really happen? 

Or: the one where Peter texts the wrong number & romance ensues.

Read on AO3 here. 

---- 

Fuming from a frustrating Nuclear Science class, Peter maturely stomped his way out of the engineering building. They were only two weeks into the semester and the old man already had Peter on edge. His major revolved around the class and his ability to get the most out of the information. The dinosaur that stood at the front of the lecture hall every day hadn’t had an original thought since the 90s and refused to see when others did. Much like every old white man, Dr. Milner’s ideas were the be all end all of a science that changed by the millisecond.

Still pretty new to campus after a late sophomore year transfer, Peter didn’t have many people to turn to that weren’t his nerdy and standoffish teammates on the Academic Decathlon team – most of those guys lived in a world a couple steps from the norm, happily keeping to themselves. Though Peter existed there eighty percent of the time, his need to be social and fill a space in the real world made it impossible to commit to that sort of isolation fully. Straddling the line made it difficult to exist on either side – Peter’s favorite pieces of himself were what kept people away, no matter the lifestyle.

With his mind so heavy with all sorts of negativity, Peter suddenly found himself homesick; he spent so much of his life trying to escape the streets of New York – so far from home now, Peter missed them desperately. Thinking about his tangible connection to his favorite urban wasteland, Peter pulled his phone out and hastily typed in Ned’s new number.

Peter Parker [1:23PM]: Hi, I hate it here. Peter Parker [1:24PM]: Dr. Milner is out to get free thinkers. I may not survive the next fourteen weeks.

Peter already felt a little better after typing the words – the mere ability to get one of his many worries off his chest did wonders. Until his phone pinged with a new text message notification, of course.

Nimble fingers pulled the phone from his pocket, his eyes carelessly looking over the screen as it unlocked. Expecting to see Ned’s name there, Peter almost threw the phone to the ground when Siri’s suggestion registered.

Maybe – Tony Stark [1:26PM]: Hi stranger! I think this was meant for someone else, but I too think Dr. Milner is out to squash any new idea that doesn’t fit the mold. In his forty-year career, he hasn’t changed a bit.

Another text message was below it, but Peter forced himself to stop reading – his heart felt like it might beat out of his chest already, too much excitement at once couldn’t be good. Out of all the numbers he could’ve accidentally typed, Tony Stark, New York’s genius and resident beauty, Peter’s secret (though not so much) crush, ended up on the other side of the line. The unbelievability of the idea made Peter consider a well thought out prank. Then again, how did any of his fellow classmates know Tony Stark’s personal number?

Sucking in a deep breath, Peter made himself look at the second text message waiting unread.

Maybe – Tony Stark [1:27PM]: I’m not sure how you got this number, but I sincerely hope you make it out alive. If you’re in Milner’s class, you’re on the Nuclear track, which means you must be smart. Trust me, the world needs your future contributions, whatever they might be.

Peter gripped the phone a little harder after reading through the second message over and over again. He let his eyes take in each of the words, wondering, if it really was Tony Stark, how anyone ever survived talking to him. In so few sentences, Peter already felt discombobulated, both more confident and turned around than just seconds before. Aside from his infatuation with the man, Peter understood Tony Stark’s contributions to the technology community and the world at large more than most.

It took him a few minutes to convince himself to text back – every time he tried to type something, his fingers froze just centimeters above the screen. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many questions he wanted to ask to make sure he wasn’t getting catfished. Instead, Peter took the direct route, his courage obviously all or nothing in the face of something as big as an accidental interaction with Tony Stark.

Peter Parker [1:35PM]: Holy crap – excuse me for the bluntness, but is this really Tony Stark? Siri doesn’t often get things wrong, especially since I souped her up. But I’m sure you can understand the apprehension. Peter Parker [1:37PM]: Would you be up for answering a few questions just to make sure?

The tip of his finger tapped against the screen impatiently after he hit the send button, his nerves and the not-so-subtle excitement were barely contained under the surface of his skin. He couldn’t remember a time where feeling alive was so prominent.

A smile slipped across his lips when, a moment later, three consecutive texts vibrated Peter’s phone in succession.

Maybe – Tony Stark [1:40PM]: You souped up Siri? Steve Jobs is probably turning over in his grave right now. Maybe – Tony Stark [1:41PM]: I think I’m the one that should be asking the questions, don’t you think? How did you even get this number, Peter Parker? It’s a private line. Maybe – Tony Stark [1:42PM]: I am, though – Tony Stark, I mean.

Peter Parker [1:45PM]: Reconfiguring tech is kind of my thing. I used to dumpster dive in high school – you’d be surprised by the cool pieces of technology people put in their trash. Peter Parker [1:46PM]: Oh, bringing out the big guns – I’m happy to see Siri without my latest addition works for others, too. Peter Parker [1:47PM]: It was an accident, sending those first texts to you. My friend in New York just started a new job that came with a paid phone. I still haven’t saved the number. You are one off from him. Peter Parker [1:48PM]: Alright, Tony Stark. Tell me what campus I’m on.

Maybe – Tony Stark [1:53PM]: I’m not surprised by anything human beings do, especially in New York City. Throwing out a perfectly good iPod is certainly not the weirdest thing I’ve heard of. Did you make anything interesting in your trash conversion adventures? Maybe – Tony Stark [1:54PM]: You talk a big game, Mr. Parker. Can you walk the walk, too? Maybe – Tony Stark [1:55PM]: He must be on my payroll, then. The bank of numbers my employees have come from my personal network. Maybe – Tony Stark [1:57PM]: That’s an easy one. You’re at MIT – Milner was there when I was a student. The only thing that’s probably different between then and now is the amount of hair the old bag has.

Peter Parker [2:01PM]: You’re not wrong, Mr. Stark. I made things that helped me be self-sufficient. I grew up really poor and couldn’t afford the things everyone else had – so I figured out how all the tech worked and made my own. I’ve been using a ten-year-old iPhone for ages. Peter Parker [2:03PM]: You bet. Are you challenging me? Peter Parker [2:04PM]: He is, actually. He started in an entry level position two weeks ago. Peter Parker [2:06PM]: It’s gross, isn’t it? I’m glad we’ve moved past projectors in the classroom – the hair on his hand would make for a distracting shadow. Peter Parker [2:07PM]: Okay, okay. I think I’m convinced. One more test, though – send me a picture.

Maybe – Tony Stark [2:14PM]: Oh boy, none of that Mr. Stark shit. As far as you’re concerned, I’m Tony. Only Tony. Maybe – Tony Stark [2:15PM]: You made your own. That’s – impressive. I’m impressed and more than a little curious. Maybe – Tony Stark [2:17PM]: Challenging you, no. Enticing you, yes. I’m visiting Cambridge to do a guest lecture series next week. Come see what Stark Industries is up to – I’d love to hear what you think. Maybe – Tony Stark [2:18PM]: It was as bad as you think. Maybe – Tony Stark [2:20PM]: Okay, Peter Parker. [IMAGE ATTACHED]

A gasp of shock left Peter’s mouth when he opened the last text to find a smirking Tony Stark looking right at him. To prove the time and date, Tony held up the New York Times, his free hand pointing to the headline Peter read on his phone earlier that morning. After the shock of actually talking to Tony Stark wore off, Peter let himself take in the picture and all of its details.

Tony’s desk was largely visible in the shot – pens and stacks of paper littered the surface, a few rogue pieces of tech ready to be fiddled with acted as paper weights and grungy aesthetic. The man himself was breath taking – his glasses were a deep violet, offset beautifully by the crisp white shirt and black waistcoat covering Tony’s upper body. A light purple tie was loosely knotted at his throat, as if he fiddled with it while working just to keep his hands busy.

Without much thought, Peter saved the photo and added Tony to his contacts before replying – there was no reason not to trust the man, the spark in his shiny hazel eyes seemed to genuine and real to even question.

Peter Parker [2:25PM]: Only Tony, got it. Peter Parker [2:26PM]: Curiosity is good – keeps you fresh and on your toes. Peter Parker [2:27PM]: Oh, I see. You want a chance to impress me. I like that. Not sure what my opinion is going to do for you, but I’ll be happy to share it. Peter Parker [2:29PM]: Gross. Peter Parker [2:30PM]: I’m – you’re… Wow. You really are Tony Stark.

Tony Stark [2:37PM]: I think you’ll have no problems keeping me on my toes, Peter. Tony Stark [2:38PM]: I have a feeling your opinion is one that I’ll be very interested in. You’ve been nothing but blunt this entire conversation, I know I’m getting the real deal stuff. Tony Stark [2:40PM]: I am. I really am Tony Stark. Tony Stark [2:41PM]: It’s your turn, Peter Parker. What face belongs to that beautiful brain of yours?

Forcing himself to breath, Peter looked around the room for the best spot to return the favor. The bed was a hard no, he didn’t want to send the wrong vibe to a person who could easily have whomever they wanted. His desk was small, but meticulously organized – his study materials open and ready for a night of reviewing the only thing obscuring the surface. It was obvious Tony appreciated his brain, it seemed pertinent to take advantage.

After a few attempts, Peter found the perfect angle to catch the light in his eyes, making them shine brightly in the camera. He thanked the clothing gods that he chose a well fitted three-button Henley in his haste to get out the door that morning. The feeling of satisfaction was new, but not unwelcome – he wanted to send Tony the photo; for once, he knew it would impress.

Peter Parker [2:55PM]: Keeping implies longevity. Are you planning on sticking around? Peter Parker [2:56PM]: My brain to mouth filter runs at less than 10% at all times. It has brought me more trouble than shutting up ever would. Peter Parker [2:27PM]: You’re gorgeous. Violet is a nice color on you. Peter Parker [2:29PM]: What do you think? [IMAGE ATTACHED]

Tony Stark [ 2:37PM]: Yes. I think that’s the answer to that question. You’ve presented a puzzle I want to solve. Tony Stark [2:38PM]: Shutting up never got anyone anywhere. The noise we create is what shapes us. Tony Stark [2:40PM]: Thank you – I have a lot of it in my wardrobe. Tony Stark [2:44PM]: & you called me gorgeous; Peter Parker, you’re a stunner.

Peter Parker [2:51PM]: You’re a scientist, you do that for a living. What makes me so different? Peter Parker [2:52PM]: That’s a refreshing opinion. I like the way you think, Only Tony. Peter Parker [2:54PM]: That honestly doesn’t surprise me. Peter Parker [2:55PM]: Do you tell the person who made you blush that you’re blushing? I don’t remember that standard operating procedure.

Tony Stark [3:01PM]: My intrigue is of a personal nature only – the puzzle you pose is of a different sort. Usually, I think and think and think until I solve whatever the problem is. With you, I want to gather all the clues and take it apart piece by piece. Tony Stark [3:02PM]: That’s a little heavy for only knowing each other a couple of hours, but when you know, you know. Tony Stark [3:03PM]: Not usually, but I have a feeling you’re an exception to a lot of things, Peter Parker.

Throughout the rest of the afternoon, Peter continued to exchange flirty text messages back and forth with Tony – the mood stayed open and easy as the time passed. The older man helped Peter get through Nuclear Dynamics and three hours of decathlon practice. For all the brains Tony had, Peter was surprised to find humor and a bit of insecurity, too. Tony let himself go on tangents and make dad jokes that were a step away from being obscene.

That trend continued for the rest of the week and well into the weekend. By the time Sunday afternoon rolled around, Peter knew Tony’s schedule, half the newest late-night discoveries, and the way Mr. Sweet Tooth took his sugary coffee. Though a line of attraction and want existed, Peter was happy to know Tony as a person without the ability to act on the obvious tension between them. And while he appreciated the wholistic way they were coming to know each other, Peter couldn’t wait to see Tony throughout the week, either.

The older man seemed to share his sentiment – the shrill notification of a text message received pulled Peter out of his thoughts.

Tony Stark [7:30PM]: Hey, Pete! I present at 5:30 tomorrow afternoon. Want to grab something to eat afterwards? Tony Stark [7:31PM]: I’m impatient to get back to Hogan’s and thought you might appreciate his culinary prowess.

Peter Parker [7:35PM]: Tony – this is the fourth time you’ve reminded me about your presentation. I’ll be there. For dinner, too. Peter Parker [7:36PM]: Culinary prowess; if it merits that title, I’m sure it’ll be worth it.

Tony Stark [7:42PM]: I know – I just get some performance anxiety. It helps to remind myself that you’re going to be there. Tony Stark [7:43PM]: It is. Hap is an old friend of mine. He left MIT to go make his restaurant dreams happen and has been stupidly happy ever since.

Peter Parker [7:47PM]: I get it – I’ll gladly be your security blanket, Tony. Peter Parker [7:48PM]: Something tells me there’s more to that story, but I’m sure you’ll tell me one day. I’m excited to try it. Should I look up the menu beforehand, or let it be a surprise?

Tony Stark [7:55PM]: I like the sound of that. I’ve pictured having you in my arms often. Tony Stark [7:57PM]: There’s always more to the story, Pete. Let it be a surprise! In fact, I’ll order for you to make sure you get the whole newbie experience.

Peter Parker [8:05PM]: I’ll boldly say you can have me in your arms as often as you like. Peter Parker [8:06PM]: The newbie experience – there hasn’t been a time in my life where that’s been a good thing. Peter Parker [8:07PM]: Yet. Surprisingly – I trust you.

The next day went by quickly – Peter took a quiz in Nuclear Science and dug into his other two classes to keep his mind focused on anything other than Tony’s imminent presence. His last class was a core history class, so he gladly tucked into the reading the professor let them loose to do. The chime of his alarm broke through Peter’s fog a couple pages from the end of his assignment. Though he liked to be ahead, Peter gladly took the extra few minutes to get himself together before heading to MIT’s presentation hall.

Decked out in his finest pair of black jeans, a blue denim short-sleeve button down, and solid black high-top Converse on his feet, Peter walked the few minutes it took to get back onto campus from his small apartment. Unsurprisingly, a line was formed out the door of students hoping to get into the presentation last minute. Tony told him earlier in the week that they waited to advertise his appearance until the a few hours before to stop the masses from flocking. To Peter, the time restriction seemed to only make it worse.

In Tony’s excitement to have Peter there, the older man set aside a ticket for him – instead of joining the line like he might’ve without Tony’s insistence, Peter walked straight into the cool auditorium, snagging a seat at the end of a row located dead center in the auditorium. The vantage point was perfect – Peter wouldn’t have any trouble catching Tony’s eye as he spoke. Grinning at his access to such a simple pleasure, Peter relaxed back into the seat, passing the time until Tony took the stage by watching the crowd flood in around him.

It wasn’t long before the lights were dimming and a sweaty, high ranking alumnus gave Tony Stark a mediocre welcome onto the stage. The crowd broke out into a cheer that more than made up for the old man’s subpar words. Tony timed his entrance perfectly; he walked out as the energy rose, the shift in the crowd’s tension working to enhance everyone’s excitement. Peter found himself glued to the man, who until that moment, existed entirely on the other side of the phone – he didn’t want to miss a single second of full-body absorption.

A black suit coat sat snuggly on Tony’s shoulders, a singular button keeping the sides closed. His dark hair was elegantly styled, the bed-head look enhancing the easy-going style Peter knew Tony strived for. The facial hair Peter came to truly appreciate over the last few days of texting drew attention to his sharp cheekbones. Tony seemed genuinely happy to be there if the beaming smile on his face said anything at all. With a few claps and the corniest joke, the older man got the crowd under control, proceeding onto his speech with an effortless transition.

As expected, Peter found himself interested from the very beginning. Tony’s new work on energy and its uses amongst transportation and city overhaul was ingenious – when things got up and running, New York’s power grid would run completely on sustainable energy. So many thoughts flashed across the front of Peter’s mind – he wondered if Tony would let him take a look at the blueprints. He might not have much to contribute, yet Peter understood the opportunity for learning and development when it presented itself.

By the end of Tony’s presentation, Peter was overjoyed to know that he wouldn’t need to feign interest in the topics Tony brought to the table. For a while, Stark Industries went through a slump of working on weapons and junky tech Peter found in the trash more often than he ever wanted to admit. It felt good to be excited about something new coming from the company – Tony Stark was the smartest person in his field, anything less than almost perfect just didn’t do the man and his ideas justice.

After fielding a lot more questions than Peter expected, Tony headed off the stage with a roar of applause – the genius wasn’t a household name for nothing. Smiling at the thought, Peter pulled his phone out; he got to see behind the curtain more than others – he felt a sudden surge of gratefulness at the fact. Every person around him would do anything for the privilege; taking that for granted just wouldn’t do.

Peter Parker [6:45PM]: You’re an incredible public speaker, Tony. Peter Parker [6:46PM]: Thanks for making me come!

Tony Stark [6:49PM]: How inappropriate of me is it to say that this isn’t the only time I plan to make you come?

Peter Parker [6:55PM]: Very, but it’s appreciated, nonetheless. I’ll meet you over by the Engineering building whenever you’re done trying to outrun your fans.

Tony Stark [7:00PM]: You’re fucking hilarious. I’ll meet you there in five.

True to his word, Tony snuck up behind Peter a few minutes later – soft palms that gave way to well-earned callouses pressed against Peter’s cheeks as Tony covered his eyes. The mere fact that Tony was there at all was surprise enough; the touches and softly whispered “Hello, Pete,” in his ear felt like more than enough to cause a coronary.

Shaking his head to clear it, Peter turned in Tony’s arms, a huge grin playing across his lips. With the way they were standing now, Peter’s chest was pressed delightfully against Tony’s – he felt each and every one of Tony’s inhales of oxygen and exhales of carbon dioxide that brought Peter’s attention to the firm muscles pressing and pulling the man’s abdomen. His breath caught when Tony palmed his cheek, their mouths mere inches apart. Despite not actually knowing each other, Peter felt comfortable in Tony’s embrace.

“Hey, Tony,” Peter finally replied after allowing his breath to mingle with Tony’s. As they stood there pressed together, neither could decipher where one started and the other began. The thought made his grin grow a little wider, the courage inside of him pulsing a little more boldly with life. “You were amazing up there.”

Tony remained perfectly still; his limbs seemingly frozen in a clench to keep Peter close to him. His grip was firm, both the hand on Peter’s hip and his late day stubbled cheek. Like the man himself, Tony’s touch left something behind that kept Peter on the hook, always seeking more. He half expected for Tony to lean in and slot their lips together – his deepest desires and tangible wants were starting to collide in such close proximity.

Instead, Peter’s smile was returned with quirked cheeks and bright hazel eyes. “You weren’t too bored?” Tony asked, his voice soft in the small space between them. His thumb swiped constantly across Peter’s cheek, the obvious need to move apparent, even in such an intimate situation.

Chuckling lightly, Peter shook his head. “So far from bored. My thesis research is all about sustainable energy – you had me interested from the very beginning,” Peter replied almost immediately, not caring that his excitement clearly shone through in the pitch of his voice. The way he was leaning into Tony’s touch, Peter didn’t have much of a chance to disguise his truth, anyway.

“You’re so much smarter than you give yourself credit for – I can tell already.” Tony’s words were mumbled almost as if the older man was embarrassed to say them – to hand out such a compliment to someone other than himself. And yet – Tony’s hesitation made the statement mean so much more; the rarity of such kind words (despite being spoken so softly) did nothing but make Peter want to melt into Tony even further.

Before things could get too mushy or physical, Peter took a large step out of Tony’s arms – begrudgingly, the need for space was prominent if they ever wanted the night to continue. Never mind the fact that paparazzi were constantly hounding and following Tony wherever the man went. Though he was deemed an appropriate companion at the time, Peter was more than sure the public would not agree.

With that thought in mind, Peter shot Tony a shy smile – “I’m pretty famished. Want to show me what Hogan’s is all about?”

They spent the ten-minute walk talking about the presentation – Tony grilled Peter about a few of the technical parts, while Peter drooled a little bit over the projected uses of Tony’s new energy storage and production. Like two nerdy peas in a pod, neither could help themselves – geeking out and talking about something they were both interested in made the rest of the world melt away. Peter might’ve kept on his tangent if it weren’t for a tall, thickly built man clearing his throat.

Looking up at the noise, Peter realized they’d walked a few blocks already and were standing in the lobby of a well-maintained hole in the wall that radiated the most delicious smells. Grease and cheese and freshly dropped French fries hit his senses all at once – there was no doubt that whatever they were about to consume would be more than delicious.

Peter was seconds away from wiping drool from his chin when Tony broke out into action. He took the couple of steps between their current position and the hostess stand to wrap who could only be Happy in a firm, breathtaking hug. “Happy, my man. It’s so good to see you,” Tony exclaimed as he stepped away, an adorable look in his eyes. “I’ve been talking this place up to Peter here, thought I’d cash in on your good will.”

Suddenly, all eyes were on Peter – Tony looked at him like something he couldn’t wait to deconstruct, while Happy tilted his head curiously, as if the one glance would tell him all he needed to know about Peter Parker. Unwillingly to stand there like an animal on display, Peter broke through the weird with a soft laugh and a light wave.

“Nice to meet you, Happy. Tony’s been selling me on your food for days now. I can’t wait to try it,” Peter said, his shoulders rolling back to help him stand a little taller. Though he had nothing to prove to the total stranger in front of him, Peter couldn’t help but want to make a good impression – Happy obviously meant something to Tony; their comradery and easy affection said that without much effort.

There was a moment where all three guys seemed to look between each other – Peter watched with bated breath as Tony and Happy carried on a silent conversation with just a few blinks and forehead crinkles. By the time Peter understood what was happening, Happy stepped a little closer to him, his big hand reaching out for what could only be a handshake. Without hesitating, Peter took it – for whatever reason, the handshake felt monumental; like with the one touch, he beat the level boss and gained access to the next one.

“Good to meet you, too. Tony’s good about that sort of advertisement – we probably wouldn’t have made it without his ugly mug around at the beginning,” Happy replied. “You guys know what you want? I’ll get it on the grill personally.”

At that point, Tony stepped back into the spotlight and grabbed the reins – he ordered everything at rapid fire speed, like the menu existed as a hard copy in Tony’s mind. Considering the warmth of the older man’s welcome and Happy’s cryptic words, Peter didn’t doubt that Tony was a regular – more than likely a founding customer, even.

It took no time at all for their food to come out to the small table in the corner Tony led him to. The tray was piled with an abundance of food – cheese steaks, fries, burgers, even a couple of desserts littered the table as Tony unpacked their haul. Peter’s eyes were wide, his mouth watering with a want that only Zap’s Bodega could illicit before. “This – it all looks amazing,” Peter babbled, his stomach both hungry and overwhelmed by everything in front of him.

“Just wait until you taste it. Happy used to crank out these cheesesteaks on the little hot plate we had in our dorm room. They were excellent, but the addition of the flattop has made them unbeatable.”

Unable to decide what smelled the best, Peter grabbed whatever was nearest to him. His fingers wrapped around the greasy paper of the aforementioned cheesesteak, his mouth watering even more. “So, you and Happy were roommates at MIT?” Peter asked around a large bite, the food in his mouth muffling some of the words. It really was good – worth looking like a pig in front of the most beautiful man alive.

“Hap and I go way back. His father worked security at Stark Industries – he was on my dad’s personal protection team for most of my life. When Happy’s mom died and the need for babysitting became a thing, Happy started to spend the evenings with me after school. In a lot of ways, he’s the only family I’ve ever had. When he first opened up this place, I was young and just looking for some investment that would piss my dad off. I knew Happy had talent, but neither of us thought this place would blow up the way it did.” Tony looked up then, a vulnerability in his eyes. “We’ve been in business together ever since.”

Smiling encouragingly, Peter nodded in Tony’s direction – their closeness, Tony’s unwavering advertisement and protectiveness, even some of the food names he could see on the menu; it all made sense. After taking another bite of the cheesesteak, Peter chewed slowly before responding. “There’s always more to the story, right?” he questioned cheekily. “It sounds like your gamble worked out for you – I didn’t look at the menu, but I did Google Hogan’s; there’s ten locations within a 300-mile radius.”

A snort had Peter looking up, his eyebrows quirked. “I should’ve known,” Tony said through a laugh. “Your generation is all about instant gratification.”

Their eyes locked then, Tony’s words and their meaning sitting in the space between them. Peter forced himself not to blink – he wanted to memorize the rich hazel color that barely ringed a growing pupil. Hunger and want and something unrecognizable existed in Tony’s glance; when it was all over and Tony moved on, Peter desperately wanted to remember the genuine rawness he drew out of one of the world’s greatest minds.

“Or just impatience,” Peter countered. He drew his eyes away, needing to break the glance to stop himself from propelling himself across the table and tackle Tony to the ground. Though it looked as if Happy kept the place spick and span, Peter didn’t want to think about Tony’s expensive suit on any other floor aside from his own.

They attempted to pull the small talk back to something a little tamer, but the road of the rest of the evening had already been paved. It became harder to focus on anything other than the thick press of Tony’s thigh against his own under the table. As the minutes passed, Peter noticed Tony staring, and after a while, the older man just never stopped. Every time he looked up, Peter caught hazel eyes taking him in – undressing him button by button with the sheer want in his eyes. A red blush took up permanent residence on Peter’s cheeks and neck, the color following him out of the restaurant and out onto the street where Tony took his hand without hesitation.

Before his mom passed away, Peter remembered a softly mumbled conversation laying across both his parents early, early in the morning. His dad’s big fingers were wrapped so neatly around his mother’s, the embrace tight, despite the hour. Peter reached out to touch the unbreakable seam, his eyes wide with wonder. “They fit,” Peter whispered softly, his finger running reverently over their joint fingers.

His mother pulled him close then, her lips finding that special place on his cheek. “One day, Petey, you’ll find that perfect person whose hands will fit yours just the way your father’s fit mine.”

A warmth settled in Peter’s chest as he slid his hand into Tony’s, their fingers interlacing perfectly with ease. The immaculate fit of Tony’s hand pressing against his own made him snuggle in further – whatever happened between them after this, Peter would forever know how easily he and Tony Stark fit together.

Giving Tony’s fingers a squeeze at the thought, Peter looked up, breaking the silence – “Do you want to see my apartment? I’m sure it’s not nearly as fancy as the hotel you’re staying at, but I’ve got Netflix and a really comfortable couch.”

Tony took a few long strides to answer, his face a little pensive. “I’d love to see your apartment, Pete,” Tony replied easily. They came to a stop at the crosswalk – Tony used his momentum to pull Peter close to his chest while they waited out the light. “I don’t care about fancy. You’ll be there.”

While Peter had lots of things to reply, his words were cut off by slightly chapped lips eagerly pressing against his own. It took Peter a second to recognize what in the glorious hell was happening – when the reality of the situation finally registered, Peter surged forward, tilting his head to not only return the kiss, but deepen it.

Both of Peter’s hands found their way around Tony’s neck to keep him close – he felt like he might pass out from the sheer goodness of Tony surrounding him without the grounding touch. He was far from a virgin, but none of his previous encounters knocked him off his feet in such a way that made Peter feel like a fumbling newbie.

Sipping from each other’s mouths, Peter was surprised by a strange and unrecognizable voice coming from behind them – “the light’s changed, fellas.”

It took an obscene amount of effort to pull away – though the stranger’s words made his face burn with embarrassment, Peter was reluctant to step out of Tony’s embrace and the tantalizing press of warm lips against his own. Regardless of his trepidation, Peter reluctantly moved back.

He made sure to slip his hand into Tony’s before they set off again.

“I’m just another couple of blocks away,” Peter reassured, a hungry smirk on his face. Tony returned the look, their stride all of the sudden lengthening. Their walk turned from a leisurely stroll to a brisk half-run. If it weren’t for the want raging through Peter’s veins, he might’ve found the change hilarious. In all of their time together, Tony never expressed impatience – he always seemed calm, cool, and collected. Yet, in the face of heat and need and the promise of bare skin, Tony let that mask drop.

Happy to know a new something about Tony, Peter reveled in the pent-up silence that carried them back to his apartment. Snagging a ground floor unit close to the entrance, they luckily didn’t have to wait for an elevator or awkwardly pretend that they weren’t about to push the other against the wall and start ravaging whatever pieces of skin they could find. Instead, Peter impatiently pulled Tony behind him as they walked between building 1 and 2 with eager steps.

After some fumbling and a set of dropped keys, Peter finally got his door open and Tony through it. Without missing a beat, Tony pushed him back against the newly closed front door, their lips harshly joining. Groaning at the contact and suddenness of it all, Peter pulled Tony in – any space left between them was unacceptable now that they were in a private space where wandering eyes and clicking cameras couldn’t see. Their obvious passion was too much for the public eye; Peter so desperately wanted to keep Tony to himself – devouring him in a safe space was only the first step.

As Tony traced his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, Peter fumbled his hands down the older man’s chest until he could pull the crisp button-down from well-tailored pants. The second he was able, Peter shoved his hands under the soft fabric, his palms greedily pressing into Tony’s hairy chest. A groan left his mouth – the chest hair under his fingers was soft and teasing. Peter was caught between the urge to tug at the strands and lay his head gently against them just to feel the texture against his skin.

Tony made the decision for him – large hands were suddenly on Peter’s waist, his feet coming up off the ground with little effort. Unable to keep his hands where they were, Peter broke the kiss with a groan and shifted until he could wrap his legs around Tony’s hips. Peter panted for breath while his lips were still free as Tony navigated through the room blindly. Another soft moan left Peter’s lips when his back hit the pliable leather of his couch.

Where just moments before they were standing chest to chest, Peter now had the full weight of Tony against him. The older man fit seamlessly between his splayed thighs, their hips lining up in a way that made Peter’s cock pulse against the confines of his tight jeans. With a bit of shifting, their groins were matched – Tony’s thick cock felt sinful against Peter’s. If his impending orgasm was already upon him, Peter wondered what it’d be like when their clothes hit the floor and he really got to taste what Tony had to offer.

Like he was reading his mind, Tony made quick work of the buttons on Peter’s shirt. Calloused hands dragged up and down Peter’s bare chest as he pushed the navy fabric to the side – his skin was practically hairless, the only exception being a small trail of it leading down to the v of his jeans. Tony let his fingers play through that small amount of hair, his fingers teasing as they got closer to the one spot that Peter wanted him to be the most.

Deciding to take his mind off of the heat in his belly and the closeness of his orgasm, Peter returned the favor. His hands were shaky as he passed button after button through their holes. With a gasp, Peter spread the sides of Tony’s shirt to get the maximum impact of the older man’s torso. He liked what he felt before, but the view was something else – Tony’s chest was chiseled and cut, his pecs and abs straining with effort. Peter noticed throbbing veins and a few scars in his perusal; the evidence of Tony’s life and the way he lived it made Peter pull the man a little closer. Tony Stark drove him absolutely mad – every new thing he learned contributed to the insanity even more.

Before he could get lost in the thought, Tony’s lips were skating along his cheek, only to stop and caress the outer shell of Peter’s ear. “You feel amazing, Pete,” Tony babbled, his tongue peeking out to join in on the fun. “I want to taste you, feel your cock pulse against my tongue. You’re so fucking hard and I can’t fucking wait. Is that okay?”

Peter pulled back then, a soft grin pulling at his lips. In all of his sexual encounters, Peter couldn’t recall someone caring about him so thoroughly, let alone stopping to ask how he felt. Both hands came up to grip Tony’s cheeks until the older man was looking right at him. Through the haze of arousal, Peter recognized that warm spark in Tony’s eye – it was the look in that first picture that kept Peter coming back for more.

“It’s perfect, Tony. I’ll take anything you want to give me,” Peter said breathlessly. He leaned up for a kiss to drive the words home.

Tony looked genuinely happy when Peter pulled away – his cheeks were flushed with obvious arousal, his lips quirked in a saucy smile. Without saying anything, Tony nodded his head and travelled slowly down the length of Peter’s body. Nimble fingers made quick work of the button and zipper of his jeans before Peter could think or even draw his next breath.

Sturdy hands didn’t hesitate to pull at the waistband of Peter’s boxers – his flushed cock was already leaking as it came to rest casually against the firm abs of Peter’s chest. Tony’s calloused fingers immediately wrapped around the length, giving a tight squeeze to the base. The sheer feeling of his crush’s hands on him was almost enough for Peter to jump straight over the edge. Catching Tony’s eyes and biting down on his bottom lip was his only saving grace – the knowing look in beautiful hazel eyes pulled a chuckle from Peter’s chest, the noise distraction enough.

“Okay?” Tony asked again, the words were spoken with his mouth hovering just inches from the pulsing flesh of Peter’s cock. He could feel Tony’s breath against his sensitive skin, everything about the situation making it hard to articulate or think or exist as anything other than a melted puddle of goo against broken-in leather.

Peter took a couple of deep breaths before nodding vigorously. He felt a red flush travel even further down his neck and torso, arousal and embarrassment mixing together to create the ultimate aphrodisiac. He finally found his voice, muttering a choked off “yes” before the motor function of speaking left him once more.

After a heartbeat and then another where neither man moved, Tony gripped the sharp bones of Peter’s hips, pushing his lower body down against the cushions. They shared another look as Tony lowered his head, his pink tongue poking out to lick lightly against the leaky head of Peter’s cock. Hazel eyes stayed on him – Tony continued to lap along his sensitive skin, all while killing Peter slowly with the heat and want reflecting back. By the time Tony had all of Peter in his mouth, Peter was seconds away from being undone.

It’d been so long, and he’d wanted Tony since he understood what attraction was. Being pinned down by the person he desired longer than some of his friendships did nothing but magnify everything that was happening. His skin felt like it was on fire under Tony’s touch – the suction around his cock felt like it was coming from all angles, everywhere, all at once. Unable to stop himself, Peter moaned, panted, and shamelessly shouted Tony’s name as the blissful seconds passed.

The telling zip of a zipper being pushed down, and Tony’s hasty shift told Peter that Tony was similarly affected. He picked up his head to watch Tony suck his cock down while his right hand moved at the same pace – while he took Peter’s cock into his throat, Tony was stroking his own erection with sure strokes. As if the heat around him wasn’t enough, the beautiful visual of Tony taking his own pleasure pushed him those last couple of steps over the edge.

Bubbling heat in his belly boiled over. Peter frantically reached down to grip Tony’s shoulder, his mouth wordlessly shaping around warning words. “I’m – I’m… fuck, Tony. I’m going to cum,” Peter finally managed to gasp out. There was just enough time for Tony to pull away, to let Peter’s pleasure splatter on the blood warm skin of Peter’s stomach. Yet, Tony held fast, instead – he redoubled his efforts, his lips tightening and throat relaxing in invitation.

Unable to stop himself, Peter let go – his hips thrust up into Tony’s enticing heat, the man’s name dripping from his lips as pulse after pulse of cum left his body. Tony moaned around him, swallowing easily without pulling his mouth away or stopping his ministrations. The suction continued until Peter was reaching down halfheartedly to push at Tony’s soft curls.

While he caught his breath, Tony crawled up Peter’s body, a self-satisfied smirk on his red cheeks. Peter grinned at him, happiness and satiation rolling off of him in waves. Without thought, Peter pulled Tony tightly to him, their lips finding each other like opposite poles of magnets drawn together by the sheer force of nature. Tony shared Peter’s taste with him, his talented tongue thrusting into Peter’s mouth with a shared groan between them. It was all so hot; Peter felt his spent cock already starting to come back to life.

With that thought in mind, Peter started to reach down to help Tony finish achieving his own pleasure; yet his hand was batted away with affectionate finesse. Peter shifted until he could meet the honey hazels he was already addicted to, a question in his eye.

“There’s no need,” Tony mumbled, his face tucking into the skin of Peter’s neck. “You’re so sexy, I couldn’t help but touch myself. The way you look in the throes of pleasure – it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.”

“Holy shit.”

Tony chuckled at the awe in Peter’s voice. “My sentiment exactly.”

For a while, they stayed stretched out on Peter’ couch, exchanging kisses and greedy touches on all the bare skin either could reach. Without so much adrenaline coursing through his system, Peter felt himself melting even further into the comfy cushions below him. After a jaw breaking yawn, Peter reached up to cup Tony’s cheek, pulling the man’s attention towards him.

“Want to stay over?” Peter asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. Though they were spent and wrapped up in each other, Peter wasn’t sure where Tony stood. There was a big difference between the type of intimacy physical touch and sleeping next to another human being required. The last few days, Peter fell asleep with Tony’s messages open on the bed next to him – actually sleeping side by side, in person, that was a whole new step for them.

Tilting his head to the side, Tony shot Peter a tender smile before nodding and leaning down to press their lips together.

“Yeah, Pete – I want to stay.”