#or they could simply use the program to see what they want to do later in life if they decide to work at Faz Ent

[chipistrate]

Hate to break it to you but help wanted 2's description says you are a worker for the Pizzaplex and Gregory is a kid who can't work so

You aren’t “breaking” anything to me, I’ve read the description lmao

There’s other ways Gregory could get into such a system, especially if he’s already IN the system, GGY n all

Even then, I’m more than willing to admit that Gregory protag is an out there theory- but it has enough evidence to give me, a Gregory fan, some hope- and most importantly, it’s fun! And that’s what theorizing is all about ^^

[fatuismooches]

cor meum, manus tuas.

synopsis: After your illness strikes again, Dottore decides to gift you a failed experi-, a new companion in order to soothe your injured heart.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: A cute fluff fic where Dottie gives you Foxttore and the pufflings as a pet (the blue monster creature from Nahida's fairy tale.) He loves you a lot. Really just pure fluff and Foxttore getting on Dottore's nerves. Enjoy!

For as long as Il Dottore had known you, you had always been one to suggest things that he had no interest in. It was a habit of yours, and sometimes he’s not sure if you’re being genuine about it or if you simply want to rile him up, as you usually do.

One such example was back in the Akademiya when the two of you finally successfully reversed-engineered one of those machines after a painstaking amount of work. It was arduous and tiring, but immensely rewarding. Oh, he had so many ideas and things to do now, but you- you had other plans.

“So, now that we’ve got it under our control, I think we should program it to have some new tricks.” Zandik had paused at your words, as for once that was a good idea. He wondered what the limit of such a killing machine could possibly be.

“Go on.”

“Alright, imagine this, it’s about to swoop in and land the finishing blow, but instead, a whole bunch of confetti pops out and-”

“No.”

“You can’t even pick up a sword properly. You know nothing about fighting like I do! Just hear me out, it’ll be a great distraction because they’d never be expecting that, and boom, that’s where the real attack comes in.”

“No.” (Later on, he found out that you’d programmed the thing to have a single flower shoot out, just for him. He swiftly removed it after you were done laughing.) 

Or when you had begged and pleaded with him to let you teach him how to cook, just once. It was no secret you were always the one on cooking duty during the Akademiya, for he had a severe lack of skill for it. Furthermore, Zandik had no interest in it, not having the time or patience for something just meant as sustenance. You, however, were insistent on at least teaching him the basics, for it was no way for a student to live (according to you.)

The slicing and dicing went well enough, but the moment you turned your back for a few moments, he had somehow set the smoke detector off, and the Akademiya’s dorm director gave you two a good scolding. You learned your lesson after this particular incident, but from your giggles, he knew you didn’t feel an ounce of regret.

Your antics were truly something he wouldn’t get used to. And now, over four hundred years later, your teasing nature had remained the same, only that it became more verbal as you didn’t have the strength to pull off your elaborate plans anymore.

Which is why lately you had been clinging to him with pleading eyes and a jutted lip, vehemently asking for a pet despite his numerous rejections, going so far as to try and recruit other segments (who, unfortunately for you, did not join your cause.)

“Please honey, my darling, my beloved, my-”

“My answer is not going to change, [Name]. I will not tolerate anything running around and causing a mess.”

“Aww, but come on. I know you love cats. I know you secretly pet them when no one’s looking. I know that-”

“That’s enough from you. Now, will you sit or should I strap you down instead?”

That line of conversation persisted for a while until you mostly gave up, only throwing the idea in from time to time with a hmph. But now, he was uncharacteristically wondering if there could be a solution to this problem. 

Lately, you had been confined to your bed and room, too physically weak to move around much. He and the segments had done their best, as they always do, to take care of you, but one did not need to be a genius to know that you were feeling down. Not only because of the aches your body gave you, but also because you were lonely for most of the day, seeing as his other selves were usually too busy to spend an adequate amount of time with you. Once again, despite his lack of care for the emotions and feelings of others, he could see straight through your feigned expressions of nonchalance.

Dottore hated it when you pretended around him.

He could raise the topic but it would probably make matters worse. Instead, it was much more logical to work toward a solution for the issue - the solution being a companion to keep a smile on your face, and your mind at ease. Now, an actual pet probably would be a hassle to maintain in the lab, knowing the kind of activities that were… well, unsafe to say the least, so he put that possible solution to the side for now.

Initially, he sought to create something mechanical, having seen the mechanical animals from Fontaine. Of course, his creation would be far superior, and it would be quite helpful with your condition and all. But upon further thinking, knowing your tastes… you’d probably prefer something softer, considering how much you liked to cuddle him and your plushies. 

It was a conundrum the scholar found himself in, making his darling lover happy was not something that could be so easily scientifically concocted like the rest of the conclusions he reached. It required much more than simply following the lines of reason. Perhaps that’s why Dottore often struggled with it. 

Yet he did not have the luxury of time to continue pondering, for he did not want to leave you by yourself for much longer. And so he continued to sit at his desk, his hands automatically filling out paperwork while his mind was focused elsewhere, still thinking about what he could possibly gift you. Something warm and cuddly with the ability to communicate with you to some extent…

That was when he remembered something he created long, long ago.

The memories of that creation came back to him rather quickly once he remembered. Dottore remembered every experiment he’d done, but some were just not very special or successful and lingered very little in his mind. This was one of those unnoteworthy results. It was no secret that he was known to… play around with the concept of life, ignoring the rules that guarded it so strictly… and it was this idea that led to the birth of a creature, one that certainly did not belong to this world.

It was a monstrous, furry black thing that hid its true self with some kind of suit, its lone eye bright and red. It hadn’t been the first time his experiments led him to the unknown, but this… was just something he didn’t care about at all. After a few tests on the creature, he lost interest rather quickly. It was the farthest thing away from the life Dottore wanted to toy with. In fact, he had planned to dispose of the thing, but the creature seemed to understand his words more than he anticipated. It quickly scurried away, creating chaos and knocking down almost everything it could, skillfully making its escape.

Dottore had contemplated searching for his odd creation but decided that it wasn’t worth the time or energy. Judging from the distaste it held for him, it probably wouldn’t come around anyway. So, it could exist in the far depths of the lab for all he cared. It wasn’t like this was the first time he threw things into the back and forgot about them. Now, he was rather pleased that he didn’t get rid of his experiment. He had known you for long enough that he was sure you’d find such a thing cute, for some reason. It checked the fluffy and easily holdable boxes too. His only question was whether it could be alive after all these years… well, it was certainly worth a shot, seeing as his solutions were limited.

The answer to Dottore’s question was a yes. It had unfortunately taken much longer than he’d liked to search the dusty rooms (although admittedly, he had gotten a bit distracted with reviewing the old things he dumped) but at long last, he had found the round creature peacefully dozing without a care in… some kind of bed it had crafted with a bunch of papers and black fur. It looked perfectly content… in all honesty, Dottore was a bit interested in what it had been up to all this time. Maybe it held more scientific value than he thought… 

Regardless, in one swift motion, Dottore grabbed the creature by the scruff of its neck and it immediately awoke, attempting to scramble away. Once its single eye laid on the man who so rudely interrupted its sleep, it blinked, before multiplying its strength to escape, even trying to scratch him, but to no avail. The Harbinger’s grip was far too strong, of course. Meanwhile, Dottore had already lost a bit of patience from the creature’s incessant movements.

“Stop that,” he demanded sharply, and the critter instantly went still as its eye continued to stare at him completely widened. Dottore smiled, which felt rather eerie and frightening to the oversized creature.

“What, did you think I came all the way here to finish the job? Oh no, if I wanted to, I would have done so already a long time ago. Instead, I have another use for you. Something that will benefit both of us. I’m sure you’ll agree,” he hummed as he turned to leave the room. But as he took a single step, he found himself stepping on something soft. Curiously lifting his foot, he looked down to see a small, black, round ball of fluff staring at him with a red eye identical to the creature he held in his hand. And then another came into view.

… And another. Soon at least over a dozen had popped out of the shadows, all watching at him with anticipating eyes. He had forgotten these balls of black fur were also a byproduct of creating the creature. Now quite a few had surrounded his feet and were hopping up and down, attempting to climb his pants, which he quickly shook off with a scowl. Well, it looked like these things were going to follow him regardless of what he said…

“If you all are going to follow me, be prepared to make yourself useful,” he sighed in exasperation before finally leaving, stepping on a few more in the process. (The usefulness in question, was making sure you’d be left with a smile.) Based on the odd squeaking noises the smaller creatures made, they seemed to be on board with the idea. 

—

When your husband suddenly presented you with a gift contained in a rather large box, you were a bit surprised. Not because you were receiving a gift, but because of the size of it. Normally, he would give you small trinkets and such, things he’d thought you’d like (that had no real purpose to him, retrieved solely for you. Yes, he was very cute unintentionally. You had a little shelf for his stuff.) But you had no clue what he could have possibly gotten for you that warranted the need for such a big container…

You had long discarded your book in favor of new entertainment (you were reading the same sentences over and over anyway), your hands gliding over the rough material. Dottore was looking at you expectantly, having barely said anything besides shoving the thing on your bed, with a simple “for you.” You couldn’t help but chuckle, your chest getting a bit lighter from the previously stuffy atmosphere dissipating.

“Are you going to explain yourself or leave me guessing as to what I’ve done to receive such a thing?”

“You have been lonely and tired, and I seek to alleviate your pain. Yet there are certain things I cannot always do, which is why I found a solution,” he stated simply, pushing the box closer to you as if it was no big deal. Your eyes widened as your jaw hung, speechless, before you sent a small, teasing smile to your husband.

“I… well, who knew you could be such a considerate man? Keep that up and you’ll make me blush.” You couldn’t help but heat up a bit from his concern, although he didn’t say it outright. And you didn’t really have it in you to deny his words too, he was right after all, you have been lonely and tired from being cooped up in your room all day.

“Still, I want a hint! Ah, it’s too heavy for me to even lift up…” You couldn’t guess what could be in here. “Could it be the latest new novels from Inazuma?”

“No, but those are on the way. It’s something more-” At that moment, the box slightly shifted and you blinked in surprise.

“Oh, oh! Are these new models of Beta’s miniature Ruin Machines? Did he finally make the Ruin Sentinels series?” In truth, initially, the segment wasn’t interested in creating such pointless machines, but after you oh so innocently challenged him to make them movable and fit in the palm of your hand, he took the bait and presented them to you smugly. Needless to say, you very much liked your little collection of action figures, and you were hoping he had finally made ones that could fly.

“No, it’s-” Once again, he was interrupted by even more dramatic shuffling, thumping echoing loudly from inside the box which made you scoot back a bit.

“Dottore, you sure whatever’s in here isn’t going to attack me…?” Your voice was more lighthearted than worried, but now you were squinting at him a bit suspiciously. Dottore’s expression remained unaffected, but inside he was the slightest bit annoyed. He had told those damn things not to move around. Thankfully, a sharp slap to the cover of the box caused the movements to cease, and he only smiled at you once again.

“As I was saying, it’s something you have been asking about for a long time.” He watched as your face turned thoughtful, fingers drumming when suddenly it became very obvious as to what it was. 

“Is it… is it what I think it is?” He found your expression rather amusing as he witnessed your eyes becoming sparkly with joy.

“Go ahead,” Dottore motioned and you wasted no time pulling the cover off the box, your eyes meeting a furry, blue creature whose lone eye gazed up at you curiously. You blinked at it, and it blinked back at you, but you had no time to say anything before some other unknown creatures began pouring out the box and spilling onto your bed, some crawling on your lap. This was certainly not the average pet you had expected… but you were not complaining. These things were the cutest - not to mention the little strand of hair on the top.

“Dottore,” you giggled at the fluff tickling your skin, “what exactly are these- oh!” Your words were interrupted when the larger creature suddenly jumped out of the box and launched itself into you, pawing your chest. You reciprocated the attention in delight, giving it numerous head pats and taking a closer look at it. Most of its soft fur seemed to be blue, although its head was black, and its beak was harder than the rest of its body. Regardless, it was completely adorable, and it seemed to like you very much.

“It is something I created in my lab during one of my experiments. I figured it would be something you’d enjoy.” You lit up, and the scholar couldn’t help but appreciate how you seemed to glow.

“You made these little guys for me? Oh, I always knew you could be such a romantic! I have my husband, my son, and now a cute pet. Isn’t it nice to see our family grow, Zandik?” He remained silent at your hastily made conclusion, deciding that the little white lie wouldn’t hurt, especially not when you looked this happy. After all, he imagined your response to him keeping this creature in the backrooms of his laboratory for ages wouldn’t be very well received, considering how attached you were to it already. Thankfully, you didn’t notice the glare the creature sent him either.

“Do they have names yet?” Dottore thought back to the string of numbers and letters attached to this experiment and opted not to disclose that, shaking his head. You hummed, trying to think of what name to bestow upon your new pets until you quickly came up with something good.

“Foxttore,” you stated firmly.

“Foxttore?” He repeated a few seconds after you, rather unimpressed.

“Yes! Because he looks like a fox, and he also kind of looks like you!” You playfully squished the creature’s cheeks.

“I bear no resemblance to that creature,” he frowned, immediately refuting your statement.

“Don’t look like that,” you teased. “It’s a compliment. You’re both cuties that are the same shade of blue,” you leaned in to kiss him gently, a simple way to silence him despite his vexation. “Now as for these little ones…” you thought once more as the black puff balls clung to your arm, Dottorelings… no, that’s too long… how about pufflings? Yes, that will do nicely!” Seemingly understanding your words, the pufflings began jumping up and down in glee. You then moved closer to the man and enveloped him in a hug.

“Thank you for this, Zandik. I am very happy,” you whispered quietly as you snuggled into his neck. It was the truth - you really were happy to have some company constantly around. Your husband returned the hug and you loved how his strong arms felt around you.

“Of course. But if they happen to cause you any… trouble,” he sent a look to the thing now called “Foxttore”, “be sure to tell me.”

“Aww, don’t say that. Foxttore is a good boy! Right?” You smiled brightly at your new pet, who was kneading the blanket, watching the two of you. The contrast between its creator’s less-than-pleasant face and your wide grin was stark and rather easy to choose from. It then hopped up and practically wedged itself in between the two of you, looking up to you with a pleading eye, desperate for attention. You squealed with delight and pressed the creature to your cheek, nuzzling against it.

When Dottore noticed the cheeky look his creation sent him, he wondered if this was actually a good idea.

—

Foxttore and the pufflings were the best and cutest companions you could ever ask for.

The pufflings were always scattered about your room, resting in different locations. You honestly had no clue how many there were, nor could you tell them apart, but you swore they squeezed through the bottom of your door somehow because sometimes they’d return with random items. They seemed pretty starved for attention… they even liked it when you squished them like a stress ball.

Foxttore was equally as cuddly, but also rather intelligent. He would fetch you items so you didn’t need to get up, and he could even turn a doorknob… you were fascinated. One of your favorite things to do was give him a note for him to deliver to a segment, and he would actually deliver it. (Said note usually contained you begging a segment to visit you, otherwise you’d die without their attention.)

After a lot of cuddling and rubbing, you found out that Foxttore was just a severely oversized puffling with four legs instead. That blue fur of his wasn’t even his, just a suit he wore. It was quite funny to see him without it on. It seemed rather shy without its fox fur, but with enough kisses, hugs, and reassurance, it had no problem lounging around without it.

You read them stories, showed them everything your room had to offer, placed some of Beta’s cute pink bows on them, bathed with them - you were starting to look forward to the day much more now that you could wake up to them.

—

While Dottore knew that you would get attached to the little monstrosities he gifted you, perhaps he didn’t anticipate it to reach this degree. Even after you had gotten well enough to stroll around the lab again, the blasted things were attached to your hip the whole time.

Visiting the segments? They would come up to you, caressing and teasing you with their deliciously infuriating small touches and kisses, and then all of a sudden a small crash would sound throughout the room, the culprit being Foxttore.

Visiting him? He’d have you on his lap, about to pin you to his desk, when he noticed the pufflings watching him from all corners of the room. It was maddening trying to chase them away, but then you’d get pouty about how the creatures didn’t like to be alone. (The only segment that the creature seemed to like was Zandy, although it had taken a while - a bit of scolding from you, and many offerings of food from the child to Foxttore had done the trick.)

As much as Dottore was glad your mood had improved greatly, admittedly, it would please him if he could just chuck his creations out into the Snezhnayan snow, just to finally get some alone time with you. But you loved them too much, so he resolved to resort to other means… eventually.

Over time, your pets gradually began to not hog your attention the whole time, but you were very insistent on helping Dottore and them become friends. It wasn’t very easy, however, they seemed to have some tension between them. You weren’t really sure why, but you still loved having them together.

—

“Dottore! Oh Dottore, you have to watch this,” you puffed out your chest proudly as Foxttore trotted behind you. Your husband looked at you questioningly before you spread your arms out, directing them toward the creature.

“I taught Foxttore tricks! Watch this! Foxttore, sit!” Your pet obediently sat down, his tail wagging (although you had no clue how that worked since it was just a suit…)

“Foxttore, spin around!”

“Foxttore, roll over!”

“Now high-five me!” Dottore watched in amusement as the blue creature followed your commands with ease. Perhaps it really was smarter than he thought. Regardless, all he cared about was that you were occupied with something, rather than being by yourself.

“Okay, now fetch Dottore’s secret stash of sweets!” At that, Foxttore began making its way over to one of the numerous bookshelves in Dottore’s office before the Harbinger quickly realized what you said, and stopped the creature in its tracks.

“I knew there were too many pieces missing,” he stared at you humorlessly, while you sweated nervously.

“W-What? You said I was allowed to take some!”

“I said you, not this… thing,” the man then picked up Foxttore by its strands of blue hair, which the creature fought at, and dropped it in your arms like it was some pest. “I’m moving it.” 

“Please don’t! I won’t do it again!”

—

The continued pampering of Foxttore had, unfortunately for your lovers, become a norm to see around the lab. He was a spoiled lil shit, in other words, who could do no wrong in your eyes… which is why every new thing you did had little to no effect on them anymore besides an eye twitch of annoyance and a promise to bully the creature later. The current situation was one such time. Dottore had come into your room only to see many abnormally small clothes scattered on your bed, with you in the center of it all.

“Oh Dottie, you’re just in time! Look at what I got!” You then held up Foxttore in all his glory, his new hoodie substantially thinner with different patterns, a great big smile on your face.

… It was only you who had the privilege of using his time like this.

“Now before you ask how I got these, I had them custom-made! See, I wanted to sew the clothes myself, but my hands have been too shaky lately and then you’d get all grumpy if I hurt myself with the needle, so I just asked Columbina to find someone for me and she did! She’s a great friend!” You continued to ramble on. 

“See, the poor thing gets too hot sometimes, especially when he starts running on our walks,” you said sadly, while he wondered how exactly you walked this monstrosity, “that’s why I got him different clothes! And they’re stylish too! Look, he’s even got pajamas! Don’t you think it’s cute?” You looked at him, your eyes sparkling and glittering with light that dazzled him.

In all honesty, Dottore didn’t really care about the little abomination of a creature. In fact, he probably leaned more into disdain for it. But what he did care about was you, and what made you happy, what put a smile on your face since he hated for it to be missing.

“I believe your definition of cute is rather unusual.”

“Huh? How could you not think Foxttore is the cutest thing ever? Oh… I see your game. You think I’m the cutest thing ever, don’t you?” You boldly teased him which didn’t phase him, only making a confident smirk grow on his face.

“I suppose that would be accurate, yes. Nothing else comes to mind that could be compared to your beauty,” he said smoothly, plucking the creature from your hands and dropping it elsewhere, which it clearly disliked, but he was more interested in your reaction. Your mouth slightly ajar, heat creeping up your face with a flustered expression, breathing speeding up a bit.

“A-As long as you’re aware,” you mumbled shyly, turning your face away, although your slight smile was apparent.

Needless to say, Zandik was always aware of his beloved.

—

You always loved it when you were able to leave the lab. Sometimes they were frequent outings, sometimes they were very rare. It all depended on how well you had been feeling lately. Today, you had finally been able to go out for a short walk with Dottore after so long. The cold air and snow had you shivering, but feeling the wind hit your cheeks was worth it. (And being able to cling to your husband was a definite plus in your books.) But you were still happy to come back home.

… Especially when you were greeted by your little friend.

As soon as you walked through the door, you noticed that Foxttore was impatiently waiting by the entrance. The moment he saw you, he sped toward you at light speed and pawed at your legs for pets, hopping up and down. You couldn’t help but laugh as you bent down to give him some attention which he happily reciprocated, but then he pulled away and started wildly running around the two of you.

“Aww, Foxttore is having zoomies!”

“… Pardon?”

“He’s having zoomies!” You smiled at your husband before crouching down, and your pet immediately ran into your arms and settled himself there as you picked him up. “Aww, you must have missed us so much, didn’t you?” You cooed as you rubbed his tummy, while Dottore merely stared at you blankly. The man then noticed the creature’s eye had narrowed into a half circle directed toward him as if to mock him. 

If there was a point system between the two of them as to who was able to steal your attention more, Dottore would sorely be losing.

—

It was one of the few nights where you were able to spend a night like most couples do at the end of the day - resting in the same bed with your lover. You weren’t even sure how you managed to do it this time. You thought it was probably due to your persistence but also that he was genuinely tired. (Well, he had been genuinely tired for ages now, but you were able to get him on a weak day, perhaps.)

You had always loved it when Dottore held you, even if it was slack or just one arm, you always felt safe. Protected. Warm. Happy. The feelings only amplified when both his arms caged you into his chest, which was the perfect place for you to snuggle. (Still, he’d never admit to being the little spoon from when he was a student.)

“Hey, Zandik?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you for everything you’ve done lately, by the way.”

“Of course,” his answer was as simple as could be. He stroked your hair languidly, always one to brush off your thank yous.

“I mean it,” you wiggled out of his grip to look him in the eye, lip jutting out slightly.

“I already know you do. You do not need to keep saying it every time.” You pouted at his response. How else were you supposed to show your appreciation? You then grabbed his arm, which was surprisingly pliable, and placed his hand over your heart.

“Then let me know if you need anything from me. Anything at all. I have to pay you back eventually, you know.” Dottore looked as if he was enjoying himself.

“What do you propose? I’ll listen to your suggestions.”

“Well… I have kisses and cuddles as my expertise. I can cook and bake for you sometimes too… oh, but I can also try doing some of your paperwork! …What? You’re not impressed? I guess I can try to do some more… unsavory tasks as well. The Fatui agents listen to what I have to say quite easily,” you continued to chatter as Dottore’s fingers made their way from your cheek to your neck and then your collarbone, making you stammer at the sensation. “Hey, you’re not even taking me seriously, are you?” Your husband only chuckled at your furrowed eyebrows and grumbling.

If anything, he would want you to repay him by letting him see the faces you’ll make once you’re finally free of your illness.

“Anyway…” you squeezed his hand with yours that still rested on your chest, “You probably know this already, with that ever-calculating mind of yours, but you hold my heart in your hands. I’ll always be here with you.” It was a funny thing to think about, giving your heart to someone like him, in both a physical and intangible sense. Trusting him with your frail body, trusting him with your love, knowing he could squeeze it to a pulp if he wanted to. But he wouldn’t.

He would treat your heart with the utmost care and precaution, not daring to risk even the slightest harm to it.

Dottore stared at you for a few moments while you held his gaze, resolute on making your point known. Wordlessly, he began to move closer to your soft lips, intent on making his response to your statement physical. He was so close, his nose brushing against yours, and your warm breath on his. He was about to finally satiate his desire when-

Something was scratching at the door. Loudly, too. The sudden noise made you jump back and turn your gaze to the door. The Harbinger had a bad feeling about this.

“Did you hear that?”

“No.”

“You’re just lying now!” With a huff, you pushed the blankets off, much to his displeasure, and made your way to the door, opening it. There was Foxttore, making strange noises that he tried his best to mask as cries.

The bliss Dottore felt a few moments ago had turned to immense annoyance immediately.

“Oh, you poor baby! Did you have a nightmare or something?” You exclaimed before quickly scooping Foxttore into your arms and bringing him onto the bed. “It’s okay, you’re with us now…” You softly murmured, stroking it gently as you let it settle on your chest. Where Dottore’s hands should be right now, cupping your soft skin instead of that damned creature.

Dottore swore he was going to throw that thing out once you were asleep.

[pucksandpower]

Used to be Mine

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Arthur Leclerc x ex!Reader

Summary: Oscar stole everything from Arthur … his hopes, his dreams, his family name, and you

Arthur slumps in the hard chair across from Jock Clear’s desk, the Ferrari Driver Academy director’s words echoing in his mind. “I’m very sorry Arthur, but we’ve decided not to renew your contract for next season. You’ll be released from the program at the end of this year.”

Arthur feels like he’s been punched in the gut. This can’t be happening. He’s poured his heart and soul into racing for Ferrari’s junior program for years. His dream has always been to follow in his older brother Charles’ footsteps and race for the Scuderia in Formula 1.

“But … why?” Arthur manages to choke out. “I know my results this season haven’t been that great but fifteenth in the F2 standings-”

Clear shakes his head solemnly. “Your pace and racecraft simply haven’t developed at the rate we need to see to justify keeping you in the program, Arthur. I know how hard you’ve worked, but there are other young talents coming up behind you showing greater potential.”

The word “potential” hits Arthur like a dagger. Ever since he was a kid, that’s what he’s heard over and over — unfavorable comparisons to Charles’ unlimited potential. He always knew his big brother was special behind the wheel, but he’d clung to the hope that he could make it to F1 through sheer hard work and determination if not raw talent.

Clearly that hope was misguided. Arthur feels the sting of failure wash over him.

“I … I understand,” he forces out, struggling not to break down in tears right there. “Thank you for the opportunity.”

He stands up shakily, the room spinning. He needs to get out of here.

The drive back to his family’s home in Monaco is a blur. Arthur’s mind races, years of sacrifice and struggle swirling in his head. Endless days and nights on the simulator. Grueling hours in the gym, pushing his body to its limits. Tormenting himself over endless data traces, looking for even a tenth of a second to gain an edge.

All for nothing. The harsh truth is he’ll never be good enough. No matter how hard he tries, the Leclerc name will always belong to Charles. Arthur will be forever known as his little brother, the one who couldn’t quite cut it.

He slams his fist against the steering wheel, angry tears now streaming down his face. Why did he ever think he could do this? Why didn’t he just pursue something, anything else with his life? He’s wasted years chasing an impossible dream, and now he has nothing to show for it.

His phone rings, almost slipping out of his trembling hands before he can answer. It’s you.

“Y/N ...” Arthur chokes out, trying and failing to hold back his sobs.

“Arthur? Oh my god, what’s wrong?” You ask, panic in your voice even through the tinny speaker. Of course you can sense something is desperately wrong. You’ve always been there for him, the one person who truly understands what he’s been going through.

Arthur can barely get the words out between ragged breaths. “The … the FDA ... they’re releasing me ... it’s over ...”

There’s stunned silence on the other end of the line.

“Arthur, I ...” You trail off, at an uncharacteristic loss for words. You know how much this has meant to him. How much of himself he’s given to this endeavor. “I’m coming over right now, okay? Don’t do anything stupid. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

You hang up before Arthur can respond. He’s not sure if that’s a good thing or not. Part of him wants to wallow in despair alone. But mostly he’s grateful you’re coming. He’s not sure he can handle this by himself right now.

Sure enough, you burst through the front door only a few minutes later. Arthur has collapsed on the couch, head in his hands as the tears continue to flow.

“Oh Arthur ...” You sit down beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into an embrace. He turns and buries his face in your shoulder, no longer trying to hold anything back as ragged sobs wrack his body.

You just hold him, making soft hushing sounds and stroking his hair. You’ve seen him distraught before — after tough losses or crashes. But never quite like this. This is the cry of someone whose dreams have been shattered.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Arthur’s sobs begin to subside into hitching breaths. You grab a tissue box from the end table and hand it to him.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, blowing his nose loudly. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just … I don’t know what to do. What am I going to do now?”

You take his hand and give it a squeeze. “First, you’re going to breathe. This isn’t the end of the world, I promise. We’ll get through this.”

Arthur lets out a shaky exhale, trying to calm himself. You always have been the level-headed one. He leans back against the couch cushions, keeping your hand grasped tightly in his.

“I really thought I could make it, you know?” He says quietly. “I’ve given everything to this stupid dream ever since I was a kid. But I’ll never be good enough, will I? Not like Charles.”

You open your mouth to protest, but Arthur barrels on, unable to contain years of self-doubt and insecurity any longer.

“Don’t try to argue. We both know it’s true. Charles was always the special one. The one with the generational talent. I was just … there. Doing my best to keep up, but always a step behind no matter how hard I worked.”

You shake your head vehemently. “Arthur, that’s not true at all. You’re an incredible driver. Your work ethic and determination are-”

“Meaningless without the talent,” Arthur interrupts bitterly. “That’s all that matters in the end. And I don’t have it, not like Charles does. I’m just … normal. Ordinary. That’s why Ferrari has moved on.”

You move closer, taking Arthur’s face in your hands so he has to look you in the eye. “You listen to me, Arthur Leclerc. You are anything but ordinary, understand? You’ve accomplished more by the age of 23 than most people could dream of in their entire lives. Making it all the way to F2 and the Ferrari Driver Academy is incredible, no matter what happens next.”

Arthur tries to turn away, but you keep his gaze locked, your voice rising in intensity. “If you were ordinary, you wouldn’t have been able to push yourself so hard for so long. Ordinary people would have given up a long time ago. It’s your extraordinary drive and passion that have taken you this far.”

Tears are welling up in your eyes now. You can’t stand to see him diminishing himself like this.

“Besides,” you add, managing a small smile. “I may be biased, but I’ve always thought you were the most extraordinarily kind, caring, and hilarious person I know. That’s a kind of specialness in itself, you know.”

Arthur lets out a choked laugh, wiping at his eyes again. Leave it to you to know just what to say to raise his spirits, even a little. “You always have been weirdly good at these pep talks.”

“Well, someone has to keep your head from getting too big,” you quip back with a grin.

Arthur mock-gasps in feigned offense. “Why, you little ...”

He lunges at you, starting to mercilessly tickle your sides. You squeal with laughter, trying in vain to fight back as you quickly devolve into a giggling, flailing mess of limbs.

You’ve been reduced to teary hiccups when Arthur finally relents, allowing you both to catch your breath. He throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

“You’re the best,” he murmurs softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You rest your head against his shoulder contentedly. “Let’s just take things one day at a time for now, okay? We’ll figure out what’s next together, like we always have.”

Arthur nods, feeling a deep sense of gratitude and love for his girlfriend. No matter what curveballs life has thrown your way, you’ve always supported and uplifted each other. He knows that won’t change, even if his racing dreams don’t pan out.

“Together,” he echoes, giving your hand one more tight squeeze. Whatever the future holds, he can get through it with you by his side.

Maybe his path won’t lead to Formula 1 after all. Arthur feels a pang of sadness and disappointment at that realization. But as long as he has his family — has you — to lean on, he knows he’ll be okay. That love and support is what has always truly mattered most, not chasing some impossible dream.

“You know, we should see if Charles wants to come over later,” Arthur says, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I haven’t roasted his abysmal fashion sense in way too long.”

You burst out laughing at that. Only Arthur could find his way back to laughing and joking so soon after having his world turned upside down. It’s just one of the many things you admire about him.

“Oh my god, yes please,” you reply once you’ve caught your breath. “His outfit at the last race was literally a crime against humanity. Someone needs to intervene before he traumatizes us all again.”

The two of you spend the next little while cheerfully trading escalating insults about his big brother’s admittedly questionable clothing choices. The mood has lightened considerably, at least for now.

Arthur knows the sting of his failure will return, the questions about what he should do next weighing heavily. But you’ll be there for those hard moments too, just like always. As long as he has you — his best friend, his other half — he can face any challenge life throws his way.

The uncertain road ahead is daunting. But Arthur meets it with determination burning in his eyes. If he couldn’t make it as a Formula 1 driver, he’ll simply have to find a new dream to chase. A new mountain to climb. Whatever it is, he knows you’ll be alongside him every step of the way.

***

Six Months Later

The roar of the engines fades as the cars return to the pits after qualifying. Arthur can’t tear his eyes away from the timing screens:

1. C. LECLERC

2. O. PIASTRI

A Leclerc front row lockout at their home race. Except one of them isn’t really a Leclerc at all.

“Nice one, Piastri-Leclerc!” One of the McLaren mechanics calls out as Oscar climbs from his car.

Arthur’s gut twists.

Oscar just grins and plays along. “Thanks, it’s all in the family name!”

A few of the Ferrari mechanics chuckle at that as Charles emerges from his own car, beaming. He pulls Oscar into a hug. “A Leclerc one-two in Monaco, who would have thought?”

“There’s just something about being a local,” Oscar laughs. “Thank you for giving me yet another home race.”

You appear then, throwing your arms around Oscar with a squeal. “My two favorite Leclercssss!”

Arthur has to look away, his face burning. He knows he has no right to be jealous. Oscar is one of his best friends. And you … you made your choice a long time ago.

“Arthur?” Fred Vasseur appears at his side. “You okay?”

Arthur forces a smile. “Yeah, all good. Just … focused.”

“No need to be so tense,” Fred squeezes his shoulder. “You did a great job in the sim this week. That data helped Charles and Carlos a ton.”

“Glad I could help,” Arthur says automatically.

But his gaze is drawn back to where you’re still hugging Oscar tightly. You look so happy, so carefree. It wasn’t that long ago that your smiles were for him.

“You know,” Fred says conversationally. “I’m getting a lot of questions about what you’ll decide to do next. Every time you’re in that sim or out on track-”

“I’m fine being test driver,” Arthur interrupts, maybe a little too brusque. “Really, I am.”

Fred studies him for a beat. “If you’re sure. Just saying, the doors are opening ...”

The team principal moves off then, leaving Arthur alone with his swirling emotions. He can’t get swept up in maybes about his future. Not when his past is standing right there, laughing at some joke Oscar made.

You’d think after all this time, the sight of you wouldn’t affect him so much. You broke his heart so thoroughly when you ended things, he didn’t think there were any pieces left to shatter. But here he is, a mess of jealousy and longing, just because you gave Oscar a hug.

“Arthur! There you are!”

He turns at the sound of your voice. You’re hurrying towards him, Oscar and Charles trailing behind with indulgent smiles.

“We’re going to get some dinner if you want to join?” You ask brightly.

He has to swallow hard before he can speak past the lump in his throat. “I … don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Of course it is!” You grab his arm, utterly oblivious to his discomfort. “We’re all friends here, right?”

“Some of you were a bit more than friends once upon a time,” Charles points out with a wicked grin.

You shove him playfully. “Oh shut up!”

Arthur feels like he’s being stabbed in the heart. Your break up turned his life upside down. Hearing you joke about it so casually now is excruciating.

“Seriously, Arthur,” Oscar cuts in. “Come celebrate with us. We promise not to get too crazy.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Arthur tries again, harsher this time.

You frown, tilting your head in confusion. “Why not? I thought we were all past the whole ex thing?”

“I am,” he lies through gritted teeth. “I just … have some stuff to work on for the race tomorrow.”

“Oh come on,” you wheedle, giving him that smile that used to make him melt. “Take a break! Live a little!”

Arthur can’t take much more of this. He needs to get out of here before he says something he’ll regret. Or worse, does something stupid like pull you into his arms and kiss you senseless.

“Seriously you guys, I’ve got work,” he says, forcing himself to take a step back from you. “I’ll … catch up with you later, okay?”

He doesn’t wait for a response, just turns on his heel and stalks away. He can’t bear to see the hurt, confused look on your face.

Why did he think this would be okay? That he could spend day after day around you and it wouldn’t still hurt? Every smile, every laugh, every touch you bestow on Charles and Oscar is like a white hot poker in his chest.

He thought he was over you. He really did. It’s been months since you ended things, months since you shattered what was left of his heart into a million pieces.

He’d been so shocked, so heartbroken, that all he could do was sit there numbly as you walked out of his apartment. When he finally found his voice, hours had passed, and you were long gone.

“But I love you,” he’d whispered into the empty room.

He’d been so sure you felt the same. That what you had was forever. But you made your choice, as simple as that. Arthur never came first.

And now, half a year later, here he is. Living out some twisted version of his dream … but only just. A test driver for Ferrari instead of a race driver like he always imagined. Like Charles, who had achieved everything they both wanted.

Arthur leans back against the wall of the cool, dark room he’s found himself in. It feels like the pain of your rejection is never going to stop haunting him. Like no matter how much time passes, it will never be enough to make up for losing you.

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying and failing to block out the memory of your face, your smile, your laugh. All the moments of pure joy you two had shared. The dreams you’d whispered to each other late at night, tangled in the sheets.

Is this his lot in life from now on? To watch you move on, all smiles and teasing jokes with Oscar and Charles? To see everyone welcoming Oscar into the family while Arthur is shut out in the cold?

He’s startled from his spiraling thoughts by a knock at the door. “Arthur? You in there?”

It’s Charles. Arthur flinches, swiping a hand over his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he calls back, grateful that his voice doesn’t shake.

There’s a pause. “Can I come in?”

Arthur considers sending his brother away. He’s in no state for a heart-to-heart right now.

But he can’t bring himself to refuse Charles. Not when they’ve been through so much together, from the karting tracks of their childhood to the highest levels of motorsport.

“Yeah, okay.”

The door opens and Charles slips inside. He stops short when he sees Arthur, brow furrowing in concern.

“Hey … you okay?”

Arthur can’t even find it in himself to fake it. He just shakes his head mutely.

“Is this about Y/N?” Charles asks gently.

And just like that, the dam breaks. Arthur squeezes his eyes shut again, but he can’t stop the tears from spilling over.

“I thought I was over her. I really did,” he chokes out. “But seeing her with Oscar … celebrating like that ...”

Strong arms wrap around him then, pulling him into a hug. Arthur goes boneless, sagging against his older brother as the sobs take over.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Charles murmurs. “Let it out.”

Arthur does. He cries and cries, shoulders shaking, as months of pent-up heartache pour out of him. Charles just holds him through it, rubbing soothing circles across his back.

“I’m s-sorry,” Arthur finally gasps out. “I’m being so stupid ...”

“You’re not stupid,” Charles says firmly. “Love isn’t stupid, Arthur. Especially your first real heartbreak. That shit hurts like hell.”

Arthur lets out a watery chuckle, finally pulling back and swiping at his eyes. “How do you always know exactly what to say?”

“Well, I am the wise older brother,” Charles grins. Then he sobers, studying Arthur carefully. “Seriously though … you know Y/N loved you, right? What you two had was real.”

“I know.” Arthur shakes his head. “Doesn’t make it any easier seeing her move on so quickly.”

“She’s not over you either,” Charles says gently. “That’s why she keeps trying so hard to act like everything is normal between you two.”

Arthur scoffs. “Could’ve fooled me with all the cuddling up to Oscar out there.”

“Oh come on, you know that’s just a joke,” Charles says with a roll of his eyes. “Oscar is like family to us, same as you. That’s all it is.”

“Yeah? Well it didn’t look that way to me.”

“Arthur ...” Charles puts a hand on his shoulder. “I think you need to have an actual conversation with Y/N. Clear the air once and for all. This lingering stuff is only going to keep eating you up inside.”

“What if she really has moved on?” The thought is like a vise around Arthur’s heart. “What if she tells me she’s dating Oscar for real or something?”

“Then at least you’ll know,” Charles says simply. “It will hurt, yeah. But not knowing, constantly wondering … that’s so much worse. Trust me.”

Arthur is quiet for a long moment, turning Charles’ words over in his mind. Maybe his brother is right. Maybe it’s time to rip off the bandaid once and for all.

He nods slowly. “Okay. I’ll ... I’ll talk to her.”

“Good.” Charles pulls him in for another hug. “No matter what happens, you’ve got me, okay? We Leclercs need to stick together.”

Arthur manages a small smile at that, feeling just a bit lighter. “Yeah. We do.”

As he follows Charles out of the room, he catches sight of you across the paddock, laughing at something Oscar said. A familiar ache blooms in his chest.

But this time, he doesn’t run from it. This time, he’s going to face it head on. His heart may end up in even more pieces … or maybe, just maybe, it will finally start to mend.

Either way, at least he’ll know. No more lingering what ifs. Just the truth, whatever it may be.

He takes a deep, steadying breath, then starts making his way towards you.

***

Arthur’s steps falter as he rounds the corner of the McLaren garage. There you are with Oscar, bodies intertwined, lips locked in a heated kiss.

It feels like all the air has been sucked from Arthur’s lungs. He can’t breathe, can’t think. He just … freezes, rooted to the spot, watching in numb horror as the two of you make out shamelessly right there in the open.

This can’t be happening. It has to be some kind of twisted nightmare. But no matter how hard he blinks, the scene before him doesn’t change.

You and Oscar are really kissing. Properly sucking face like loved-up teenagers, hands roaming over each other greedily. Oscar has you backed up against the garage wall, bodies pressed flush together from chest to thigh.

Arthur feels like he’s going to be sick.

Finally, mercifully, you two break apart, foreheads pressed together as you both gasp for air. Arthur should look away, he knows he should, but he can’t seem to make himself move.

“So much for keeping it professional in the paddock, huh?” You murmur, voice husky.

Oscar lets out a breathless chuckle. “Who cares about professional? Not when I’ve got you all to myself for once.”

He leans in to kiss you again, but you put a hand on his chest, stopping him. “We should find somewhere more private if we’re gonna keep this up.”

“My driver’s room?” Oscar suggests, already palming at the small of your back.

You shiver, pushing up onto your tiptoes to brush your lips against his jaw. “Lead the way, Piastri-Leclerc.”

And just like that, you’re gone, disappearing into the depths of the McLaren garage, hands roaming and giggling like lovesick fools. Arthur watches until the door swings shut behind you, cutting off that haunting sound of your laughter.

Then he’s moving without conscious thought, staggering back around the corner and out of sight. His back hits the cool concrete wall with a thud, but he barely notices. Barely notices anything except the ragged, gasping breaths being torn from his lungs.

He doubles over, hands braced on his knees as he struggles not to vomit right there in the paddock. It feels like someone has driven a white hot poker straight through his chest. Like his heart is being crushed into a million pieces all over again.

Oscar and you … together? Actually dating? How … how could you do this to him? To yourself? Everything you two had built together, every future dream you had shared … tossed aside so easily?

Tears burn at the corners of Arthur’s eyes. He wants to scream, to punch a wall, to unleash the searing agony and fury ripping through him. But he can’t make a sound, throat locked up tight with unshed emotion.

He should have known, really. Should have seen this coming. It’s not like you and Oscar were hiding your connection. The loving looks, the inside jokes, that easy intimacy and affection … Arthur had just been too blinded by jealousy and heartbreak to see it.

But to find out like this? To literally walk in on you two wrapped around each other? It’s a whole new level of pain, lancing through him over and over. He’s always imagined that you would have the decency to at least tell him first if you moved on with someone new.

Unless this has been going on for a while already, hidden from him in plain sight. Every laugh, every hug, every teasing comment … was that all a lie to cover up your dirty secret with Oscar?

Arthur’s stomach churns violently again at the thought. He swallows hard, fighting back the nausea. He can’t lose it here, can’t draw any attention to himself. He needs to get it together, block out the image of you and Oscar swapping spit.

Easier said than done when his brain keeps unhelpfully replaying the way Oscar’s hands were roaming over you, groping at you like you belonged to him. And that laugh … god, that beautiful, carefree laughter that Arthur would know anywhere. A sound that used to make his heart soar whenever it was aimed at him.

Now it’s like a knife in his gut to hear you giggling that way with Oscar, no doubt blissed out after a hot and heavy make out session. Arthur’s jaw tightens, a muscle ticking furiously. He would give anything not to have walked in on that, not to have that sound burnt into his brain forever.

At least now he knows the truth. The humiliating, gut-wrenching truth that you’ve well and truly moved on from him. And with Oscar of all people, like the ultimate slap in the face.

What kind of cruel joke is this? Arthur wonders, still fighting to steady his ragged breaths. He loses the girl he wanted to spend forever with … only to have one of his mates swoop in and take her from him?

It’s not just you that Oscar has stolen either, Arthur realizes with a sickening jolt. It’s everything. With you on his arm, Oscar is welcomed into the family, called a Leclerc at their home race. Arthur’s own last name, treated like some kind of lighthearted joke while the real thing is ripped away from him.

Oscar even gets Monaco as a home race, just like the actual Leclercs who grew up here. All because of some dumb joke about Charles adopting him. Arthur had laughed along with it at the time, never imagining the underhanded truth.

Oscar Piastri has wormed his way into having everything Arthur wanted more than anything. The career, the family, the girl … all of it, just handed to him on a silver platter.

White hot fury flares in Arthur’s chest, momentarily burning through the heartbreak. How dare Oscar do this to him? How dare he make a mockery out of Arthur’s dreams, out of everything the name Leclerc stands for?

Arthur barely registers that he’s moving until his fist connects with the concrete wall with a sickening crunch. He lashes out again and again, pummeling the unforgiving surface over and over until-

“Arthur! Hey, whoa!”

Suddenly there are hands on him, strong and insistent. Arthur starts, accidentally slamming his abused knuckles into a firm chest as Charles appears, grabbing hold of his shoulders.

“Easy, easy! What the hell are you doing?” Charles meets his gaze, eyes wide with concern.

Arthur blinks dazedly, pain finally registering from his torn up, bleeding knuckles. “I … I didn’t ...”

“What happened?” Charles presses, lowering his voice when Arthur winces. “Did you get into it with someone? Talk to me, please.”

Arthur opens his mouth, fully intending to tell Charles everything. About walking in on your incriminating embrace with Oscar. About the way it felt like his entire world shattered all over again. How Oscar has stolen every single thing that should have been Arthur’s by birthright.

But when he tries to vocalize the words, to unleash the storm of emotions battering him from the inside out … nothing comes out. His throat remains locked up tight, breath wheezing harshly.

Charles is watching him, eyebrows knitted with worry. “You’re really freaking me out here. What’s going on?”

Arthur squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head helplessly. He feels like he’s drowning, lost in a whirlpool of jealousy and despair that’s slowly suffocating him.

When he opens his eyes again, Charles is still waiting, patient and steady as always. Something in his brother’s calm, anchoring presence helps Arthur regain just a little bit of control. Enough to grit out a few words.

“Oscar. And Y/N.”

That’s all he can manage. But judging by the dawning comprehension on Charles’ face, it’s enough. The older Leclerc lets out a slow breath, gaze turning sympathetic.

“You saw them together,” he says, not a question.

Arthur nods jerkily, jaw locked.

For a long moment, Charles is silent. Taking it all in, no doubt. Then … “I’m so sorry, Arthur.”

Arthur’s breath hitches harshly before he can stop it.

“Hey, hey.” Charles pulls him into a tight hug, tucking Arthur’s head under his chin. “It’s gonna be okay. I’ve got you, little brother.”

Arthur stiffens for just a second before melting into the embrace, squeezing his eyes shut once more. He takes a shuddery breath against Charles’ shirt, then another, just trying to hold himself together.

“I’m here,” Charles murmurs, rubbing his back soothingly. “We’ll get through this together, yeah?”

Arthur doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nods against Charles’ shoulder. He clings to his brother like a lifeline, grateful beyond words that Charles is here to anchor him when it feels like his world is crumbling all over again.

He has no idea how long they stay like that, locked in that tight embrace. Long enough for the sharp edges of Arthur’s anguish to dull, at least a little. Long enough for his ragged breaths to even out into something closer to normal.

Finally, Charles gives him one last squeeze before gently pulling back, keeping a firm grip on Arthur’s shoulders.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he says, eyeing Arthur’s bloodied knuckles with a wince.

Arthur follows his gaze, grimacing at the sight. “Shit, I ...”

“It’s okay,” Charles says quickly, sliding an arm around Arthur’s back. “I’ve got you.”

He guides Arthur through the paddock, shielding him from view with his body. Arthur is grateful for the discretion — the last thing he needs right now is prying eyes and questions about his meltdown.

They make it back to the cool shadows of the Ferrari motorhome without incident. Charles sweeps them into one of the private rooms, locking the door securely behind them.

“There, just us,” he says, squeezing Arthur’s arm reassuringly. “Why don’t you sit down and tell me what happened?”

Arthur sinks down onto the worn sofa, feeling numb and drained. He stares at his mangled hands as Charles darts away, returning a moment later with a first aid kit and a damp cloth.

“This might sting,” Charles warns, taking Arthur’s hands with surprising gentleness.

Arthur barely flinches as his brother starts cleaning away the blood and grit from his torn skin. He’s retreated deep inside his own head, memories from that hellish scene on an endless loop.

You and Oscar, tangled together so intimately. The way you looked at each other, breathless with desire. The easy intimacy and obvious hunger in every heated caress.

Arthur squeezes his eyes shut, but it does nothing to block it out. He’s never going to be able to unsee that, he realizes with a sick lurch. It’s seared into his brain forever, a brand new source of unrelenting torment.

“Arthur?” Charles’ soft voice cuts through his spiraling thoughts. “What happened? Talk to me.”

Arthur blows out a shaky breath, forcing himself to meet his brother’s concerned gaze.

“I went to find Y/N,” he starts in a dull rasp. “To … to get some closure, I guess. Finally rip off the bandaid like you said.”

Charles nods in understanding, staying quiet to let Arthur continue at his own pace.

“But when I turned the corner of the McLaren garage ...” Arthur’s throat works convulsively, the memory surging back in vivid technicolor. “They were there. Making out like a couple of horny teenagers.”

He falls silent again, the words cutting off as a wave of fresh agony washes over him. God, the visual is never going to stop haunting him, is it?

“Oh, Arthur ...” Charles murmurs, squeezing his hands gently. “I’m so sorry.”

Arthur lets out a bitter huff. “Sorry? Don’t be sorry for me, Charles. Be sorry for yourself.”

Charles frowns in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Oscar,” Arthur grits out, white-hot anger flaring once more. “He stole her from me, sure. But he also stole our name. He gets to be a Leclerc now, a mockery of our home streets. Just because you stupidly joked about adopting him.”

He surges to his feet, unable to stay still with all this wrath and hurt burning through him.

“Everything that was supposed to be mine, Charles!” He shouts, prowling the room like a caged animal. “The career, the family, the girl … Oscar has taken it all! With a few laughs and some dumb jokes!”

“Arthur, that’s not fair ...” Charles tries, but Arthur barrels right over him.

“No? Well how about this — let’s see how funny those jokes are when Oscar decides he actually wants to be Charles Leclerc!” Arthur snarls. “He’ll take your career next, you watch! Take away everything that makes you special, everything that’s yours by right!”

“Arthur.” Charles is on his feet now, reaching out to grip Arthur’s shoulders firmly. “Listen to me. You need to calm down, okay? Oscar isn’t trying to take anything from us. He’s our friend!”

“How can you say that?” Arthur demands, anguish cracking through the rage. “Don’t you see what he’s done? What he’s taking from me?”

He’s breathing hard now, vision swimming as tears of mingled fury and heartbreak prick at his eyes.

“That was supposed to be my future, Charles,” he rasps. “Y/N and I … we had plans. Dreams of a life together.”

Arthur swipes angrily at the tear that escapes, blurring his vision. “Oscar doesn’t get to take that from me. He doesn’t get to make it all a mocking joke.”

“Arthur ...” Charles looks stricken now, shaking his head slowly. He pulls Arthur into another fierce hug, tucking the younger man’s head under his chin.

“I’m so sorry,” Charles murmurs, voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry he hurt you like this. You don’t deserve that … any of it.”

Arthur lets out a choked sob against his brother’s shirt, all of the fight abruptly draining from him. He’s just … tired. Wrung out and hollow, aching down to his very core.

“This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, Charles,” he whispers brokenly. “Oscar was my friend … how could he do this to me?”

Charles doesn’t seem to have any answers. He just holds Arthur tighter, rocking them gently from side to side as Arthur finally gives in to his emotions. He buries his face in Charles’ shoulder and weeps — for his shattered dreams, his shredded heart, and a future that now feels impossibly out of reach.

As the sobs gradually subside, a final bitter thought takes root in Arthur’s mind. If Oscar is going to steal away the girl Arthur loves, the family he was born into, and the future he had mapped out for himself ... then Arthur hopes to god the Monaco curse falls on Oscar just as harshly as it ever has for a Leclerc.

Maybe then Oscar will finally understand just how much he’s taken from Arthur. How many dreams and pieces of Arthur's very identity he’s carelessly crushed in his quest to make himself a Leclerc on everything but paper.

Arthur’s tears have dried, leaving his cheeks chafed and eyes swollen. But the hollow ache in his chest remains, throbbing in time with his ragged breaths. He stays huddled against Charles, taking what little solace he can from his brother’s presence.

It’s all he has left now. Oscar has snatched away everything else that ever mattered to Arthur. His future, his past, his home ... all of it, gone in a spiral of heated kisses and breathless laughter.

If the cost of having it all is the Monaco curse bearing down on him, then so be it. Arthur finds himself almost hoping Oscar gets everything he so greedily took, the consequences be damned. Maybe then, just maybe, he’ll finally understand an ounce of the anguish and heartbreak he’s inflicted on Arthur.

It’s a dark, vindictive thought, one that makes Arthur's gut twist with shame. But he’d too drained, too devastated to truly care. He just presses closer to Charles, craving the simple comfort of family as reality crushes him from all sides.

His dreams, his heart, his identity ... all stolen by a former friend turned ultimate betrayer. If the Monaco curse is all Arthur has left to cling to, then so be it.

[fandoms-x-reader]

Teenage! MC

Requested By: @opiopal

Headcannons

Summary: How the brothers' would act around you if you were a teenager that got sent to the Devildom. The brothers x MC platonically / sibling relationship

Lucifer felt a bit guilty when it came to you. He was the one who was in charge of picking the human for the exchange student program. So, by default, he was the reason you got ripped from your life and brought down to the human world.

He was surprised by how well you had adjusted to life there. You did your best to be respectful, did your homework, and had great manners.

Lucifer dared to say you behaved better than his brothers who were centuries years old.

But, you still had your moments that baffled Lucifer and made him mentally face-palm.

You were in a student council meeting with Lord Diavolo and the others; and, you dared to call Lord Diavolo “dude”. 

A collection of gaps broke out across the room when the word left your lips. You called the future King of the Devildom “dude”! You could see some of the brothers - mostly Belphie - stifling their laughter at the situation.

But, Lucifer was completely mortified. His eyes were wide and his expression looked flushed. He couldn’t believe your audacity.

Luckily, Diavolo laughed the whole situation off. He found it amusing.

But that didn’t stop Lucifer from giving you a long lecture on how you were to never do that again.

And the next time you came face-to-face with Diavolo, Lucifer was on high alert, ready to clasp his hand over your mouth every time you said any word that started with the letter ‘D’. Just to make sure that never happened again.

Lucifer was used to being the head of the household and making sure everyone did their daily chores and kept up with their studies.

And you were no exception to that, so Lucifer didn’t think twice about it when he asked you to do a simple chore.

But you woke up on the wrong side of the bed, it was very early in the morning, and you weren’t in the mood. All you wanted was to eat your breakfast in peace. You just wanted a moment of silence before you had to go to school.

“Y/N, you need to clean your bedroom after you get home from RAD today,” Lucifer stated simply, continuing to eat his breakfast. It was a simple request that certainly didn’t warrant a sassy response. But it was the straw that broke the camel’s back and a sassy response is exactly what he got.

You had a stoic expression on your face, barely missing a beat before you replied with, “And you and Lord Diavolo need to kiss already but neither of those things are going to happen so let’s not talk about it at 6 am.”

You hadn’t looked up from your plate yet, but you could imagine the shocked expressions on everyone’s faces. Especially Lucifer’s.

“Well, we’ve gotta get to RAD,” Mammon stated, practically pulling you up from your chair. He had seen that look on Lucifer’s face too many times and he knew exactly what followed afterwards. 

The other brothers quickly joined the two of you. Lucifer was not used to being defied and he was most certainly not going to be happy with the way you talked back to him.

The brothers found it amusing nonetheless. A teenager standing up to Lucifer of all people. And you didn’t even have a look of fear in your eyes!

Lucifer loved having you around. You were a welcome addition to the family. But he definitely got the brunt of your witty remarks and side comments.

And he had no idea how to handle it. It’s not like he could punish you like he did his brothers. You would barely survive half of them.

For once in his life Lucifer felt defeated…by a teenager.

Mammon still tries to impress you as a teenager. But not in the same way. He wants to come off as the “cool” brother. The one that will let you stay out later than you’re supposed to, and take you for rides in his car, blasting music. 

Mammon loved it. Having you around made him want to be a good role model despite his spending tendencies.

He would still be a bit possessive of you. Only because he doesn’t want his brothers influencing you. Only he was allowed to show you things around the Devildom.

He wanted you to like everything he liked and hate everything he did. Movies? You liked the classic Devildom action movies, right? You didn’t like horror movies, right?!

And you loved going gambling with him, right? Didn’t you think it was so fun watching him win? Of course, he had to lie about your age to get you through the doors of the casino. But that just added to the fun of it.

And please don’t ever mention anything about witches to either of you. You both hated them with a passion. At least, Mammon will say that if someone ever did bring up the “w” word.

The truth is, that Mammon felt guilty about leaving that little girl he had found with the witches. It was for the best that she stayed up there in the human world. But, he couldn’t help but wonder if he would have been able to take care of her himself. 

And although you were more like another sibling than a child to Mammon, he wanted the chance to start redeeming himself. For the first time in his life, he wanted to be responsible for someone. Please be his mini-me.

But being responsible meant that sometimes he had to be more assertive than fun. Especially if you were putting yourself in danger.

You didn’t think you were. You thought that going out with Simeon and Solomon would be fine. You were just hanging out around town for a bit before heading back to the House of Lamentation.

But, you forgot to text the brothers that you were with them and when you hadn’t gotten home in time, Mammon snapped.

Worry filled his heart and directed his mind.

When he finally found you in town with Simeon and Solomon, relief came in waves. 

He took you back to the House of Lamentation, despite your protests. And, as soon as you were back, Mammon decided to give you a lecture. He had learned how to do it from the best, after all.

“What do ya think you were doing? You almost gave me a heart attack,” Mammon stated as you began walking to your room.

“We were just walking around town. Don’t you trust Solomon and Simeon?” you questioned, crossing your arms over your chest as you stood outside your bedroom door.

“I don’t trust ya out there by yourself without one of us to protect ya,” Mammon countered.

He didn’t mean it to come out the way it did. He was just worried about you. But, you were angry with his words. You were frustrated that he was treating you like a child so you replied with the first thing that came to your mind.

“Your whole thing is being a crow in a flesh suit. I really don’t want to listen to someone who would stop everything that’s happening in their life to pick up something shiny from off the ground.”

You entered your room before he could respond and closed the door on his face. Mammon stood there in shock while Levi and Asmo began snickering in the background. They couldn’t deny the truth in your words.

Mammon was stubborn when he wanted to be and that left the two of you giving each other the silent treatment. Just like he would do with any of his other siblings.

But, eventually, he apologized. Especially when he saw you growing closer to his other brothers in his absence.

Please forgive him. All of his other brothers have told them they wished he wasn’t their brother or part of their family. He can’t handle hearing that from you too.

If you were a teenager who liked going out and doing things on a regular basis, you and Levi probably wouldn’t have a lot in common. And it would be hard to spend time with him.

But, if you were a teenager who liked watching anime and playing video games, you and Levi would be best friends. 

He was still wary of you at first. After all, you were a normie. And even if you were a teenage normie, he could never be too careful.

He’ll slowly open up to you though. If you impress him with your own otaku skills, the process will be even faster. Deep down, Levi just wants a friend who likes the same things he likes.

He wanted someone he could talk to. Someone who wouldn’t brush him off or tell them that he wasn’t making any sense.

Levi will invite you over to play games with him often. He enjoys playing with someone who is actually competent.

But even he isn’t safe from how sassy you could be. And if you and Levi played a game against each other, your competitive side came out and so did the sassy comments on both sides.

Levi had heard of a fighting game that was very popular up in the human world and he was dying to try it. He wanted to know how it compared to the fighting games that they have in the Devildom.

Let the trash-talking commence.

You’ll surprise Levi with the first couple of things you say. But he’ll quickly begin to fight back with his own remarks. Both of you fight diligently with both your words and the controllers.

And, when you start winning, Levi’s jealousy starts getting the better of him. He’ll tell you things like “You’re cheating” or “It’s because it’s a game from the human world.”

“Come on, Levi, just admit you’re not as skilled as me in video games,” you retorted. His eyes were now glowing as his fingers were pushing the buttons on the controller rapidly. He had to win.

“I won!” you exclaimed with a proud smile. That smile faltered though when you saw Levi’s expression. A dark aura surrounded him as he stated in a low voice, “I want a rematch.”

“Yeah, and I want a million dollars. But right now I don’t feel like beating an old man who’s lost his reaction time at a videogame…again,” you replied, before getting up and leaving.

Levi let out a small gasp as you left the room. Old man?! I mean, he technically was considering he was at least a few centuries old. But he has not lost his reaction time!! How could you say something so rude to him? He just needed practice, that was all.

Levi will pester you for the next few days, begging you to play with him. He’ll tell you his reaction time is better and that he won’t lose. He won’t give up until you either tell him that you think he’s a great gamer or until he beats you in the game. 

Satan will take it upon himself to be the one who helps you with all of your studies. He usually won’t be the one who encourages you to neglect your education in favor of having some fun.

He would rather ensure your success. He wants you to be at the top of the class, with his help. He just wanted the best for you. And he wanted to rub it in Lucifer’s face later.

He’ll always suggest the two of you have tutoring sessions where he can help make sure you understand the lessons that are being taught.

He’ll stay late after class or show up early. He’ll meet you at the library or at the cafe. Wherever you would agree to meet him.

And although you appreciated him trying to help you, sometimes it was a bit much. Especially when it was early in the morning.

Which is exactly when Satan decided to have your latest study session. You were barely awake and hadn’t had any food or coffee yet.

You were sitting at a table, your books opened in front of you as Satan went on a rant about one of the lessons. Your mind was barely keeping up with what he was saying.

All you wanted to do was go back to bed, but Satan’s rant was never-ending as he tried explaining all the intricacies of the subject you were studying. 

You finally had enough when you had to catch yourself from falling out of your chair after you had accidentally fallen asleep.

“Okay, Satan, look I love you, but I hardly remember the difference between a verb and a noun so I have no idea what the actual fuck you are saying with your mouth and your face right now,” you stated.

Satan was taken aback at your sudden outburst. His eyes were wide as he suddenly took in your tired look. Normally, he would argue that it’s important to study. But, today he responded with, “We can pick this up later.”

You were thankful that you were finally able to return to your room and Satan was more careful about planning your study sessions. He’ll do his best not to overwhelm you again. 

Also, don’t think Satan was only serious around you. Satan had a very playful nature, especially when it came to Lucifer. And you were the perfect vessel for some of his pranks.

Satan knew that Lucifer couldn’t do anything towards you so he would beg you to be part of his pranks that he and Belphie would play on Lucifer. You were an integral part of the Anti-Lucifer league after all.

Sometimes you were bait, luring Lucifer into staying in a specific spot for too long. Sometimes, you were the one who actually set off the prank while Satan or Belphie distracted the eldest.

It hardly ever worked. Lucifer almost always knew what the three of you were up to. But it didn’t stop any of you from trying.

Satan thoroughly enjoyed having you there to help him. He believed you fit in with the family perfectly. 

He also related to you the most as you were both considered “late-comers” to the party. Neither of you had been angels, and although you weren’t a demon, Satan still felt like he connected with you.

You never made him feel like you were better than him or like he wasn’t his own person and he was thankful to have a sibling like that.

Asmo thinks you are the most adorable thing in the world. He was the first one to dote on you out of all his brothers. How could he not?

Asmo is very accepting of you from the start and thinks of you as family almost right away.

He’s like Mammon in the sense that he wants to be the one to show you around the Devildom and teach you all the tricks he knows.

He wants to show you how to charm people and get them under your spell. Of course, he has to approve of the person you’re trying to charm and he’ll only let it go so far.

He’s the Avatar of Lust - but NO PDA. You were too young for that and these were demons after all. He didn’t trust a single one of them.

He’ll only let you try your charm on age-appropriate people and only until you have them hooked so that you know how to do it. Then, he’ll charm the person to go away himself. 

You better believe he also wanted to dress you up in all of the outfits in the Devildom. He loved taking pictures of you and posting them on Devilgram with captions like “Look at my lovely sibling! Aren’t they cutest?!”

But it could be overwhelming sometimes. The constant shopping trips and photo ops. The constant fashion shows and meeting new people all the time.

Adjusting to the Devildom was a task on its own and there were times when you just needed to be alone and recharge your social battery. Times when you just needed some peace and quiet.

You were trying on the sixth outfit of the night in Asmo’s bedroom. You had asked if you could be done on outfit number three. All you wanted to do was go to your room and relax.

Asmo promised the two of you would be done soon, but you saw no end in sight.

“Only a few more,” Asmo told you, shoving his arms full of clothes.

You let out a groan and Asmo turned to face you. You finally let the words you’d been holding back fly out of your mouth.

“Asmo, I know you’re too glam to give a damn, but I’m not your personal mannequin and all I want to do is lay down and relax!” you shouted, feeling relieved as you finally spoke the truth that was weighing you down.

Asmo isn’t used to you snapping at him like this, so he’ll give you some time to calm down. He doesn’t want to keep pushing your buttons.

Once you start talking to him again, he’ll want to do a spa day with you instead of going shopping. He’ll pay more attention to your needs and he won’t force you into doing anything you don’t want to do.

At the end of the day, Asmo is a very caring sibling and only wants the best for his family.

The first time Beel saw you, he couldn’t help but think about how much you reminded him of Lilith.

It was simple things. Things he noticed just from where he was standing in the assembly hall when you first came to the Devildom.

Your big and innocent eyes. Your gentle and loving smile. You were so full of life, just like she was.

It didn’t take long for Beel to take you under his wing and decide to protect you. He acted like an older sibling and he was always there for you.

If you were upset, he’d find a way to cheer you up. If you were bored, he’d try to entertain you. If you were hungry - he knew just the cure!

When he found out that you had a connection to Lilith, Beel was ecstatic. It wasn’t your connection to Lilith that made Beel love you more. You were your own person and he’d never compare you to his little sister.

It was the fact that your connection to Lilith meant that you truly were part of the family. That you belonged no matter what obstacles stood in the way. It didn’t matter if you were human - he would always think of you as family.

When Belphie attacked you and killed you, Beel really thought he failed. He was plagued with images of Lilith dying. Belphie didn’t understand what he was doing - how Beel felt about you.

He didn’t understand how badly it hurt Beel to watch someone he thought of as a younger sibling die in front of him - again. 

When he saw that you were alive he had never felt more relieved. He promised you he would never let anything happen to you again. That he would protect you like any good big brother would.

And he was the perfect older sibling - for the most part. 

Lucifer had taken you up to the human world for a task. While you were up there, he allowed you to get whatever you wanted and bring it back down to Devildom.

You shopped around for a bit until you saw a supply of food that you used to eat all of the time. Food that reminded you of your childhood.

You immediately got it and brought it back with you.

You wanted to shower before you ate it because it had been a long day but when you returned to the kitchen, you were heartbroken at the sight in front of you.

Beel had eaten all of it! You didn’t even get to have a single bite of it. You could feel the emotions building up in you. Mostly because of the nostalgia that came with the food.

“Beel,” you stated, pausing for a moment to stabilize your wavering voice. “How could you?” you asked.

Beel looked up innocently from the food, a questioning look. He didn’t have the slightest clue what he did wrong.

“I get that you're a bottomless pit and that you're practically Kirby on steroids. But can't you just for once think about what you're eating before you eat it!” you stated before storming off.

The next day, Beel made sure to get the same food for you and brought it to your room as an apology.

He would do his best to never eat your food without asking again because he realized teenagers could be scary when they were hangry.

Belphie obviously doesn’t have a good first impression of you. You had never done anything to him, he just innately hated you because of the fact that you were human.

He attacked you with no remorse until he saw how it affected his brothers. They were so upset about losing you and he couldn’t comprehend why.

He saw the way they embraced you when they found out you were alive and the scene triggered something in his brain. A memory of someone he loved the same way.

Belphie didn’t attack you again, despite his instincts telling him to do so. He was curious to see what all the fuss was about. 

Things between you and Belphie were tense for a while. You knew that he hated you because you were a human. But it’s not like you could do anything about it. There was no way for you to change your race, and even if there was, you wouldn’t do it just to appease Belphie.

Like Beel, the more time he spent around you, the more he saw you as a younger sibling.

He would protect you like an older brother, but he was the least serious out of all the demon brothers.

Your carefree nature was one of the things he adored. He enjoyed watching you be improper in front of Diavolo and the way it made Lucifer look like he was going to pop a blood vessel.

The way you talked back to Lucifer also entertained him. It was something all of the brothers wanted to do at one point or another, but they didn’t have the luxury to do so.

Yet you were just a teenage human and you dared to stand up to the Morningstar himself.

The first time you did it, Belphie immediately deemed you a worthy member of the Anti-Lucifer League. 

He had so much fun pranking Lucifer with you and Satan and he was thankful that you had brought him closer to the fourth-eldest.

He never once judged you for your sass or asked you to tone it down. He loved it because he could be just as witty when he wanted to be.

He also never thought that your sass would be directed towards him.

That was until you got caught in the crossfires of one of their pranks. 

Satan and Belphie had neglected to tell you that they had placed a cursed object in the living room, expecting Lucifer to pick it up. You found it first though.

The second you touched it, your entire body immediately froze and you were unable to move or speak.

Belphie and Satan came in with proud smiles on their faces until they saw that the person they had cursed was you.

They immediately rushed to your aid and Satan began saying spell after spell to try and undo the magic. 

Lucifer had entered the scene at some point and was holding back his scolding until after Satan had remedied the situation.

As soon as you were free you turned to all three men and stated, “I know this was your idea, Belphegor. I’ve had it with all the pranks. They’re silly, they take a ton of time to prepare and they never even actually hit Lucifer! It always fails or hits whoever else happens to fall for it.”

“Satan, I know that you don’t like Lucifer because you were born from him, but the only one who actually makes a big deal out of it is you! And Belphie, you are the youngest brother! Everyone dotes on you so stop acting like Carrie at the prom because you fit in just fine. And Lucifer, for the love of all things would it kill you to tell your brothers that you love them at least once in a while so that I don’t have to suffer through pranks like these anymore!”

At some point, your rant had attracted the other members of the House of Lamentation who were all looking at you with wide eyes.

You were a sassy human, but you were their human. You were part of their family and you did fit right in. They were proud to call you their human.

Especially Belphie who was somewhat glad that not even he was safe from your rants when you had been pushed to your limit.

[harukyuu2]

HI!! Can I req luka x reader (alnst) where reader genuinely feels hideous no matter what? Like reader doesn’t like their face, etc Thank you mwa

hi hii! i was a little blank to write Luka's character, but i hope you like it still <33 !! - Fluff, Luka still has some subtle weird behaviours, a little suggestive, neutral reader, Luka is pretty serious while talking...?, maybe a little ooc, use of a petname (dear) "HIDEOUS? PURE NONSENSE." - Luka x Reader !!

This man doesnt understand your mentality at all

He doesnt care about your opinion about yourself, BUUTTT in the way where he cant see why you keep calling yourself ugly when in visuals you got a pretty good score??

Even Luka— who has some issues understanding what feelings are, can tell he likes seeing your face

He wouldnt say much when you started ranting about your face, and if he ever caught you looking at yourself in the mirror with disgust, he would simply ignore it for the moment thinking that in anytime you will realize that youre pretty and not as hideous as you think you are

...Still, if you get too dense about it, its time for Luka to shut you up! with facts more than anything. He would use your visual score, standards and any tool that could prove his point

The most reassuring way he has to make you feel better and not hideous—is simply sitting you by his side and kissing or biting every part of your body, lingering on the ones he likes most. He's pretty sick, honestly. Im sure he has licked your face once or twice

You couldnt help but whine when your attempt at a new makeup style ended in failure—not even a different brand, thousands of tutorials, or countless tries could make you stop feeling hideous. You started to feel uncomfortable in front of the mirror. Maybe ignoring your reflection would make it better? It didnt matter, its always the same feeling anyways. Quickly, you began wiping off your failed makeup attempt when you sensed a presence walking through the hall. Peeking out, you caught a glimpse of blonde locks—it was Luka

Once you ended up washing your face and went to the living room you found Luka sitting on the couch looking at the Tv, a program presenting the secrets and photoshoots of the stars in Alien Stage— of course he was one of them. Was he studying his opponents? admiring himself? Who knows, you sitted on his side without saying too much because you were already feeling that Luka was tired of your low esteem even if you discreetly saw him from the side of your eye, he noticed it since you entered the room, but he didnt call you out until a couple of minutes later. - "Whats on your mind?" - Luka asks bluntly without taking his eyes out of the TV. You hesitated for a moment, but at the end you talked just like Luka wanted. Your own thoughts camed out in almost a soft murmur since you were embarassed of them:

"i...i didnt like the makeup our guardians gifted me, not because of the brand or something! but because it doesnt fit me i guess, not even that makeup managed to go well with my features..." - You sigh frustated leaning your head back into the couch. You tried to soften your words as much as you could, but you knew very well that you could rant for more than three paragraphs about why your face didnt look good with anything Yet, your words managed to irritate Luka— there was no way you could be that stupid. So, in a chance for you to actually hear him for once and change your opinion about yourself, he pinned you against the couch— not giving you the opportunity to escape in anyway from this scolding. Luka was planning to actually do this until your mind understanded for once the value of your beauty "Stop saying such stupid things, if you were ugly you wouldnt be in Alien Stage from the start, you wouldnt even enter on the top of visuals for the aliens, cant you see the reality, dear?" - He looks intently into your eyes, not giving you the chance to escape or avert your gaze. It doesnt matter how surprised you look at his words or if you start protesting about him being on top of you, he wont let you go Luka continues - "What's so hard to understand about how pretty you are? Do I need to be more affectionate for you to get it? Well, Im tired of waiting for you to change that mindset of yours. So, I guess its my turn to get inside that little head of yours…" He takes one of your hands, kissing and biting your knuckles lightly without breaking eye contact, almost forcing you to see things his way instead of drowning in your awful thoughts

Luka started to kiss, lick or whatever he managed to consider it would show you the affection you needed to feel for yourself too. He focused on the features of your face— the ones you always complained didnt match the rest. He took his time, longer than you expected, almost like a slow, drawn-out torture meant to make you surrender

When he finally reached your lips, it was a slow yet deliberate kiss, lasting longer than the usual ones Luka gave you— short, always meant to satisfy him when he needed it. He found it pretty amusing when you pouted, wanting more

When he pulled away, his eyes remained fixed on your embarrassed expression, boredom flickering in them. He didnt let you hide behind your hands. Instead, in a serious and firm tone, he whispered into your ear:

"No, youre not moving from here. Youre not leaving until you accept how gorgeous you are, until you give up those shitty thoughts and finally acknowledge how your face can give you so many advantages with the aliens votes and everything."

[werezmastarbucks]

LB!MFLS pt3

childhood friends f!reader x pre debut!yoongi,

part one // part two

in which your childhood friend Yoongi changes after you both hit puberty. he used to be the gentle boy who taught you how to ride a bike, play Tekken and build Legos, but lately it feels like you can't recognize him anymore. sometimes, growing up, we lose friends. only, you refuse to lose Yoongi, at least not before you find out what's gotten into him.

music: here

author's note: i swear every time i sit and tell to myself: this is going to be a one shot, and then i blink and it's been ten thousand words an hour ago

warnings: minors dating (gasp), time skips. should i write smut for this chapter later? i kinda want to

word count: 7234

What was the whole concert thing about, you wondered? Was he drunk?

This kind of searing pain was supposed to belong to adults. The kind of heartbreak seemed too heavy for you, and you thought it was unfair. The big people should suffer, at least that's what happens to them in the movies. Sixteen seems too young to lose someone in such a dramatic fashion, like that, with no explanation and no revenge.

At least Namjoon finally came round after the Solar New Year, so he could support you a little. Everything seemed fine about him; he still smiled with the dimples, and you didn't have a heart to tell him that you want him back. You really doubted what you could give him, but you surely didn't want to be in love with Yoongi anymore. Whatever that was, should be smothered, put in the ground. He said it loud and clear. He doesn't want to be friends anymore, reason irrelevant.

He also stopped following you to say something nasty. Now he finally acted simply as if you didn't exist.

From the reliable cores of each other's worlds to complete strangers in less than two years.

Namjoon was punching his cheek with his tongue, his jaws pressed together.

"Maybe it's bad time to say this", he mused, and you raised yourself from the desk. Your arms were going numb as you were trying to nap on them.

"But I am going too. In the summer".

It was a bad time.

"You have one more year of school", you reminded him, mouth dry.

"I will finish this year. I am already doing the next year's program", he nodded, without looking at you.

"Fantastic", you gulped, "I am happy for you".

He didn't take it personally. He adjusted the glasses on his face with a benevolent grin slightly curving his lips.

"Sorry about Yoongi".

"Uh-huh", you couldn't hold back the tears every time someone mentioned his name. The days were tedious and long, they were a rut that you didn't know how to escape. Like you got trapped in a loop and had no way to blink back from it.

⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆

January holidays approached and the Lunar New Year was nigh and you had no idea what to do because parents wanted to celebrate together. For all your life, almost as long as you remembered, you celebrated everything with the Min family. They were the go-to guys. Now they had a house even, so naturally your parents wanted to see it and have the party. His older brother even came back from Busan to prepare for it. You told your mother you and Yoongi were over and that you didn't want to see him. She sighed, saying that most likely Yoongi won't celebrate the New Year at all this time around. He was in a tight spot with his parents. Apparently they were very unhappy about Seoul. That he wasn't studying for university but kept doing music and dreaming about becoming, - god forbid - a musician or a rapper. Whether they forbade him from coming or, which was more likely, he refused himself, it meant only one thing. He was going to be alone on that day. Or, like, with his girlfriend, which you were now sure he had. This was quite a stupid assumption to make, but it made sense to you. You were lost trying to figure out why he would do what he did to you.

⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆

It didn't last long. When you are sixteen, nothing does.

He called you one day before the New Year. Which was already unnatural at this point. Him calling meant something happened. You were walking from school, your girlfriends already scattered to their houses after having said goodbye. They were anticipating the long weekend.

You were alone on the street, asphalt covered in a thin, uneven layer of ice that looked more like powder. Air was damp and chilly.

"Can you come?" he asked. His voice was a bit weak. You lost all your vigour when you heard it. You realized you didn't even know his address. Yoongi has always lived in the nearby building, until he didn't. He said you need to take the yellow tram for about ten minutes and get off at the mall.

"What's it about?"

He hummed like he was lifting something heavy.

"I got run over by a car", he paused, "I have no one else to call".

⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆

Your breath was somewhere below the roof of your mouth as you ran up the stairs to the fourth floor. Your jacket undone, you were sweating, tongue dry like paper, panic beating in the temples.

The door was left open, and you let yourself into a small apartment. This place was so much more modest than your or his parents' place. It was horrifying. So, that was teenagehood, and this is adulthood? Tiny corridor where two pairs of his shoes were pushed towards the wall, a small clothes rack with his jacket lying on the floor. You picked it up and hung it back and then looked around. Kitchen to the left, nothing but the essentials, and behind the door slightly ajar, a bedroom. No living room or anything fancy, the old wooden floor creaked. But it was clean, like Yoongi meticulously swept everything every day. No dust.

He was sitting on the stool in the kitchen, his arms put together on his knees, without a shirt, against the bright white glow of the window. Your first thought was that he was cold; someone robbed him; he was beaten up. But then you realized he simply took the shirt off and then stopped, maybe unable to mend for himself. You threw your coat to the floor and walked to him, taking in the view of the damage. His right shoulder was reddish, trembling slightly, although Yoongi wasn't crying. The right side of his face was scratched like he scrubbed it hard on the ice. Eyebrow stopped bleeding some time ago. That was all, but his face with a pout, eyes darting to you and then dropping to his knees, like he lost.

You stood there, your hands in the air, but then realized you don't really know what he expects you to do.

"Have you... sanitized the cuts?" you asked carefully. By now he could lash out. Yoongi nodded impatiently, wincing.

"The shoulder".

"What about it".

"It hurts".

Your hand covered your mouth. He and piano. He needs both arms to play it. It didn't look like anything, honestly, and that was scarier.

"You should go to the hospital..."

"No".

"I don't know what to do", your other hand touched the top of his injured shoulder lightly, just with the tips of the fingers.

"Why don't you go to the hospital?" you repeated, numb. Yoongi's face was disfigured by pain, it was clear he was trying not to scream. You felt helpless, useless. You were the one crying, and he was the one helping, not the other way around.

"I can't pay for it, alright?"

"Your brother is here, and you should call your mom..."

He sucked the air through the teeth, and suddenly you were acutely aware of the existence of painkillers. He nodded towards the cupboards above the cooking table, and you stepped there, going through the medications he had.

"How did it happen?"

"Slippery road. The car was going on the main line, and my bike slipped and I fell right under the wheels".

Your whole stomach shuddered.

"Did they at least help you?"

"No, he drove away".

Yoongi swallowed two pills of painkiller, a nasty fear curling around you. Maybe you should have forced him to go to the hospital. He moved his left arm normally, but the right one was frozen in one position, his lean, slender muscles in the shoulder and the forearm white, it seemed even whiter than usual, on his knee.

"Can you feel it up?" he asked, his lips trembling with pain. "Feel if something is wrong? I think it was just dislocated. I put it back, but it still hurts".

Your eyes widened with horror.

"If I touch you, it will hurt".

He dropped his head to his chest, and you understood Yoongi was trying not to get angry.

"Okay".

Your hand, shaking with caution, lay on the back of his shoulder where a bruise was forming.

"You need ice here".

"Check it first".

Your fingers brushed over his skin lightly, afraid to push. The skin, covered in goosebumps, felt cold.

"Please".

"I am scared".

"Just do it, Y/N".

You wrapped your palm around it, feeling the shoulder. Yoongi gasped, then letting out a sharp moan, his left hand grabbing his knee. Tears burst out of your eyes instantly, your hand palpating the shoulder.

"I don't feel anything", you sobbed helplessly, "it's a little swollen. What if you broke it?"

"I wouldn't be able to move it", he replied, panting.

"But you can't".

"I just don't want to because it hurts".

You went to the fridge searching for ice and started preparing it for the towel you put on the table. Yoongi was slender, small, the vertebra in his neck sticking out as he tilted his head forward. Both of his shoulders shook now, you didn't know whether he was cold or crying, like you. You opened your mouth to sob without a sound, afraid he will see or hear you.

"I'm sorry", he whispered. Your nose was running, so you wiped it with your sleeve. His sides were heaving with breathing. A tiny little pink scar on his right shoulder blade where a dog bit him while he was trying to lift you up to save you. Parents had no idea until he came to them, bleeding, a nine year old hero. He got about five shots against rabies and a beating from his father. You were still puzzled by that. What had he meant Yoongi to do?

"It's not your fault", you frowned, wrapping the ice into the towel.

"I don't mean the shoulder".

He put his left arm on the table and nodded, signalling that he is ready, as you pressed the knot to the bruise. The hand then shot up, cluthing your waist, and he pressed himself into your stomach, moving his whole body towards you, towards warmth. Your free hand held his head out of instinct as the painful flutter crashed your chest, trying to get out. The kitchen swayed, walls pulsating, both your hands wrapped around him, your tears falling off your cheeks on the top of his head.

"I was being such an idiot", he mumbled, his voice muffled. You were pressing his head in, your arm cramping, like it was zipped.

"I don't know why you even answered your phone, I would've told myself to go to hell".

You used that hand to wipe your face, and he lifted his face to look at you. He hissed with pain at the rough cubes of ice, lumped together, pressing into his shoulder; showing teeth, but his eyes were for once the same eyes that you've always known. You had nothing to say.

"You sure you won't go to the hospital?" you asked in a thin voice, uneasy, afraid of the way he was looking at you.

"Yes".

"What if it- it gets inflammated, and like, you die".

"Inflamed, you mean", he corrected, in low voice, already a smile in it.

"Yes".

He shook his head lightly.

"It's just dislocated. It would've been worse if it was somethig serious".

"Don't lie to me".

"I am not", he replied gently. You wanted to step away to look at him properly, give him a serious stare, but his left hand kept you close, pressing on the small of your back. The tiny, superficial cuts on his right cheek all together were making it swell a little, he was all pink. The pain stroke you when you involuntarily pictured him fall on the ground, the crack of the shoulder under the wheel, and his face pressed into the ice. His palm moved up and down your back, trying to soothe the shudder.

You helped him put on a hoodie, right arm left under, pressed to his side, and he shivered, puffing up, his fingers cold. You made him tea as he slowly walked out of the kitchen, into the bedroom. You watched his stride to detect other injuries he failed to mention to you.

You were struggling to process things properly, finding comfort in the loud hiss of an old electric kettle. The stress made you dizzy, you were scared of this red and black bruise on his shoulder, and what it entails, scared of what is going to happen to it in a couple of days, and thinking of how you can get out of celebrating the New Year tomorrow because surely he will need help. At least there will be five full days of rest, because you didn't see how Yoongi could realistically leave the house like this.

You brought him the tea, found him in bed under the blanket, with a face way too relaxed, much happier than he was supposed to be in a situation like this. He thanked you in a small voice, refusing any food, but you recalled the sweets' magical ability to make him feel better and returned to the kitchen knowing that you will find some chocolate in his fridge. You put a piece into his mouth, pushing it through, as his lips touched your fingers softly. You were wrestling with yourself wondering if you should sit on the bed, stand next to it, or get under the blanket like you would do two years ago. If this whole thing happened two years ago, you would be way more hysterical about it. Now you were scared in general.

"What now?"

"Wanna watch a movie?"

Your brows shot up. The blush was returning to his cheeks, one already pink. His face even became more lively, he sipped the tea like he had a flu and you managed to beat the fever.

"Or talk?" he added, seeing the borderline feral expression on your face. Your lower lip started trembling again.

"Talk? About?"

He lowered his eyes to the blanket but didn't last long. Tea was putting him in a good mood. Then he thought about something - and his expressive, glistening eyes got sad again. He sniffed lightly.

"About us".

"There's no us, you said you don't want to be my friend anymore".

"I meant it differently. I am leaving soon, Y/N", he pressed, his voice determined, "And I thought I knew what to do, but apparently, I don't".

You stepped to the bed and sat on the edge of it. Hands were shaking so you clutched your own ankles as you crossed your feet on the blanket. Yoongi sighed heavily, with his whole chest and put the mug to his lips again.

"Do you need another pill?"

"Y/N, just listen for a second".

You blinked.

"I don't know when it happened. I wish I handled it better. But I couldn't. I don't know how to explain it. I am fucking obsessed with you. To the point where it makes me angry. It would've been fine if I could stay, but I am leaving, and August is closer than it seems".

Your face got so hot that you dropped it to your chest. Staring at your unmatching socks. Head still, wind inside. Throbbing with the words, loud like bells ringing.

"I've been in love with you, like, for three years, maybe more. It's getting worse and worse, I thought if I put some distance between us, it will go away, but everything I know in my life is inherently connected to you. I get up in the morning, I think of you. I brush my teeth, I think of you. I get in a bus, I think of you. And I can't be thinking of you now".

"So you decided to destroy my self-esteem as a revenge?" you muttered, not looking up. He let out a shaky sigh.

"I'm sorry. I was an asshole. I was a jerk, you shouldn't have even come here. You should've kicked me and left. I couldn't control it. I went the worst way about it, I thought I was protecting you, but I was just being an asshole".

God it was hard. You wiped your eyes quickly, trying to curl into a ball and roll away.

"I'm sorry".

He wasn't just being toxic, or dismissive. He was trying to clear the territory around you. Spook away any guys. Not to have you, but to know nobody else has you. Yoongi was captured in the prison of his unexpected emotion, you realized. Only a deeply confused person would do something like that. He was biting at it like an animal, growling. He was fighting it.

You noticed his mug is empty and jumped at this opportunity to change the subject.

"Do you need more?"

You stood up, got the mug, but again he didn't let go.

"You need to not run away for once", he said, looking right at you. The eyes you've known for way too long, the face every feature of which you had memorized, only to wipe it all clean and have to learn it again. His siren eyes, the slant so perfect, going up and down softly, a relaxed rainbow, ending with the craziest elegant inner corner like a movement of a calligraphy brush. You've never thought of him as 'pretty' before this year, and now it was all you could think about. The ever innocent expression on his face when he wanted to talk made you flustered, tongue limp. You kept tugging on the mug and his hand kept holding it.

"You're not stupid, or ugly, or unlovable, or spotty", he said, "I am sorry for making you feel like that. It's cretinous of me, I feel cretinous around you, because I don't know what to do, I am afraid if we touch I will grab you".

"Give me the mug", you managed to murmur through gritted teeth. You were looking into the middle spot on his face, trying to avoid the eyes.

"No. Tell me you forgive me first. Or that you hate me and I fucked everything up".

"I forgive you. Let go", you snapped quickly.

"I don't believe you".

You did it instead. Unclenching your hand against the mug, you stepped away. Your arms tembling up to the shoulders, you tucked the hair away from the face shakily, almost hysterically. Drastic. You had no idea what to do. All your being wanted to get under that blanket and press yourself against his body just to feel him hug you again. You haven't felt that in so long but now you were paralyzed.

"You shouldn't be so soft with me. Please understand that nobody should treat you like I did", he continued in a husky, unsure voice. "But I promise I didn't know how to act. I am going insane, Y/N".

"You hurt me so much".

"And it's also wrong, isn't it? Why you?"

You shrugged. You had no idea either. You always imagined Yoongi having a beautiful wife in the future in your silly childhood dreams. In your mind, he was dating some kind of a model more often than not. Now that he became so pretty all of a sudden you were sure he could find someone really cool in Seoul.

But he didn't mean this question like that, did he. This is not what he was talking about.

It's the urgency in his voice when he was trying to plant the thought in your mind: I was never your brother. You knew now he was trying to unteach you so that it's not completely perverse. But it feels only natural now.

You were together on the lake. You were together in elementary school. You were together on the playground and in the mountains. You were together now. Why not you?

"I mean, you are the most beautiful girl in Daegu. Possibly in Korea. I get that. But it doesn't change the fact that I feel awful. I don't mean to scare you. Please say something".

You circled the bed, dragging your feet. The bedroom was also small, barely enough space to fit his twin bed and a wardrobe for clothes. But he managed to fit a tiny keyboard as well, squeezed in between that and the window, and a desk above it, with his laptop. You sat on the bed, closer to him, as Yoongi followed your every move.

"You have to swear", you sat on your knees, the balance was hard to find even though it should've been easy. You simply became dizzy.

"That if your shoulder gets worse we will go to the hospital".

His nostrils flared. Yoongi sighed, open-mouthed, frustrated, but he has lost all the bite. He wouldn't snap anymore, you knew that.

"I love you. If there will be a big swelling, or inflammation, I am seriously going to call your brother, because I don't know what to do".

He half-blinked, nodded, then put the mug on the floor next to the bed, moving his body slowly because of the pain. He didn't have a bedside stand. You crawled closer. Carefully, palms sweating. Yoongi opened up the blanket but as soon as you were within his reach, his arm grabbed you, just like he promised. You crashed into him, having lost the balance, and he produced a stifled gasp of pain, catching you with his upper body. The shoulder was forgotten for now. Your mouths pressed to each other, the tip of your nose touching the hot scraped cheek, your body drained, leaning against him. The boy who helped you wash your hurt toes in the lake by holding your hand clutching the yellow flower, was now biting on your lip, his good hand gripping your neck.

⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆

Spring felt long like a whole life. Yoongi complained that the time is passing too quickly, but for you, it slowed down on the opposite. You were taking it minute by minute, knowing you will remember these days well. You still looked at his shoulder with suspicion, noticed how Yoongi winces when he thinks you don't see him; but once the bruise went away, the pain did, too, and you were both puzzled mostly, by what exactly happened to it. Definitely something bad. You didn't believe him when he kept saying that it's just recovered. There had been a crack, and cracks are never nothing. He was stubborn about it. Wanted to keep it smaller than a dot of an incident. Wanted to think and speak of nothing except for you because he felt like the time was running out. He had all those intricate but defined plans on how he will uphold the communication with you once he leaves. But you suddenly grew exhausted of thinking about it.

You took the present. The spring in the city. The birds making it impossible to sleep past four am, waking you up with their chirping through the open window. The treetops in the morning, lush green, emerald and sunny. A new scenery out the window of his bedroom, a little heaven you knew you would get to keep no matter what happens.

You woke up in there often, with Yoongi always already awake by the time you opened your eyes. He would watch you or stare at the ceiling, as his hand played with your hair; you never knew how long he's been awake by this time, maybe for hours, watching the sun rise across the street, listening to the sounds of Daegu getting to work, the sounds of electric street lamps turning off and the birds shuffling their feathers in the crowns of trees.

You were memorizing him, not thinking about August, even though August became an invisible sore in your mind, a bruise that you kept pushing on by accident. But you were trying to live now, in every moment, because suddenly Yoongi was all new to you. The years of knowing him didn't help anymore because everything about him seemed unknown in the best way; you have never looked at each other the way you were looking at each other now. Your head slightly tilted back to look him in the eye, and the little smile tugging at the corners of his lips; the line of his arm, clutching the rail on a tram, and his growing out hair, slightly wavy, and the view of the green and yellowish streets breathing spring behind his back. Yoongi had never truly been yours before that spring; he had been your protector, maybe your babysitter, maybe your faux older brother, your friend, your playmate, your caregiver, but always with the noun after 'your'. Now, he was just another human, at last, without any notions following the possessive 'yours'.

It was easier to be selfish with other people: they weren't Yoongi. He seemed like an extension of you, someone you would find again even if you died, travelled all across the Universe and ended up in the most distant world in the afterlife. He played you his music and showed you the lyrics that piled up in the disheveled notebooks, mirroring your own piles of notebooks, full of fairytales and stories, at home. What didn't occur to you just yet, before summer, was that Yoongi was too special to remain solely yours for a long time.

You would wake up, and your mind would get startled at he fact that this is real; the warmth of his side to your back, or his hand under your pillow, early hour langour on you like a blanket. You would keep your eyes closed, seeing the blissful view of the trees enveloped in the sun on the inner sides of your eyelids, and wrap your hands around his head, thinking that there must be a feeling in between obsession and love, a combination of the two. Something like deeper love; you were pretty romantic, sensitive like an open wound, fragile like an old cloth. The feeling of his soft hair under your palms soothed you back to sleep unless Yoongi pulled you closer, his hand in between your shoulder blades and the knee pushing your legs apart, two Lego pieces.

⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆

Then the summer came, and Yoongi graduated from school, and the shit got real. The fear of the end of the summer was so vivid now, like a picture of an atomic explosion on the horizon, but Yoongi managed to clot this panic by saying that he has a plan.

⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆

Then August came, and he moved away from Daegu, saying only one thing: I will not let go.

Yoongi was gone for the first time in the thirteen years that you knew him.

For the first time Daegu truly became empty, the only thread leading to him through the phone on which he called every other day.

Then once a week.

Then you switched to messages. Until one day he called again and said: I'm in. I got it. I passed. I will be a musician. Namjoon is here too, I can't believe it. You asked, Namjoon? Our Namjoon? He said yes; they followed each other to Seoul only to meet at the same audition and pass, and end up in the dorm room tiny enough to bump hips every time they tried to get to the window.

And you understood something about life: people don't really belong to each other. Even though Yoongi was set on keeping you, you also knew you wanted him to succeed. Even though that was the time of the heaviest turmoil that nearly changed your brain to the point of unrecognizability, it helped you grow because you were munching on the same thought until the very winter. You really wanted Yoongi to succeed. He has given everything to you, surviving his own storms in silence and only once has he asked for your help, and you knew him intimately, and supported him better than anybody else. You knew the pressure he had to carry, and the timid but at the same time powerful dream that he had. Yoongi was always so quiet about it, but his hands were attached to the piano almost every spare second when he didn't work or study. You knew there was a thing bigger than your, frankly speaking, manufactured need for him; you were trained to want him near you, to miss him, but there were other things at the bottom of his heart as well that, if you kept stealing his attention, would break him.

The spring exams were approaching and it felt like the end of your life; the edge of the cliff which you had to jump, but you were so numb with the feeling of loss that even the fundamental, life changing events were broadcast into your brain as if through an opaque window; Yoongi used to urge you to go to a Seoul university so that you'd be in the same city at least.

You knew, hearing his voice on the weekend, when he was allowed to use the phone, that he was getting exhausted with this dream of having the both of you at the same time. The voice was cracking, he would doze off during practice, he said. They are making me dance and I don't know what I am doing anymore. I wish you were here. Sometimes I am thinking about dropping everything and going back. They keep adding people into our room and now there's already six of us, and I have no idea what I am doing. Maybe I should quit. You knew you were the red herring pulling him back home, back to his unhealthy occupation with you. Back to the familiar obscurity where there was still space for creating, but no way to greatness that he honestly speaking deserved. You kept asking him about the shoulder and he lied that it's healed and there's no pain, like nothing happened. The lie always made his voice dip too sharply on the second syllable of "okay". He also told you about the boys he was with now; how it is starting to feel like a band, and how suspiciously little producing they are letting him do. But there was a promise ringing in those words that you knew you couldn't smother. As your summer approached and the exams came, Yoongi sounded desperate to come to your graduation, speaking about sneaking out, paying for a day off, running away through the window like he did at school. He still loved you, the same feverish dingle in the way he said your name. When you had started dating, something burst the bubble of patience and you couldn't keep your hands off of each other for a very long time. Yoongi's skeleton was being pulled apart, the familiar crack tearing him in half, and you finally decided to pull the thorn and deal with consequences later.

When you told him you won't call anymore and change your number, he responded with a tired admission of thinking about the same thing. He knew about this. He knew it should happen because his own desires scared him and the pace of his living was becoming unbearable. Sleeping on the floor, training twenty hours a day, eating a bowl of rice a day, having ten classes in one day, and above all that, missing you, his mind two hundred and thirty-three kilometers away. He was failing. He said he was the last on the raiting list of trainees, and a fraction of his mind was hoping he'd get kicked out, but then he would hate you forever for that. You didn't want Yoongi to hate you; you wanted to keep the memory of him smiling at you like you were the best thing he's seen in his life, even after you had peed yourself in his room. His grown out hair, the line of his arm clutching the rail on a tram. July greenery in the open window, floating by peacefully, and the sounds of music from the street.

The world was about to know Min Yoongi and fall in love with him. You had to let go.

⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆

You entered a Seoul university even with your average gardes, but not because Yoongi wanted it, but because the capital was bigger and more interesting to live in. Now it was your turn to rent a tiny apartment with lush trees against the window; they reminded you of spring when you lost virginity to your favourite person who could kiss you so well that your body would shiver for days after.

You found new friends. You were a little surprised how well you were adjusted to life, given your almost debilitating dependance on other people in your life.

A year later a company named Big Hit debuted a boy band that was struggling to lure people to their concerts, so you joined a fan forum and hyped them up when you had time.

Your studies went well because for once, there was no math involved, but only the subjects you were interested in. Yoongi had stopped sending happy birthday messages through his mom that year.

You met a guy and he broke your heart; the catch was that he wore cool vests and only drank IPA and was very interested in East European history. After a little fight, he attacked you, pinning you to the couch, with his knee on your back, trying to prove that you wouldn't be able to stand up to him even if you wanted. You didn't really date after that.

At the university, you got a grand prix for a movie you have directed with your groupmates, which was about anthropomorphic swans in a Mexican city, poisoning people with their belladonna tea. You heard BTS was finally gathering a relatively loud fanbase and once even went out with some like-minded people to plaster the posters of them on the lamp posts, announcing a concert in Seoul. Your mom called Yoongi a bastard and said she always knew he was a piece of shit and a fuckboy. You had no idea where this was all coming from and didn't bother to change her mind; at last, there was a significant distance between you so that she wasn't able to peck on your brains all the time.

Six months later you found an NDA agreement in your post, addressed to your name, from BIg Hit, which demanded that you delete all of Yoongi's pictures from all social media platforms you had, and don't speak about him to people outside of your immediate circle. To ensure you sign and send it back, they added a check to the contract.

A year later you saw his face on a building for the first time; it was eerie, sad, felt like some force pulled you into a parallel dimension where you were two strangers who had never actually met, and everything you knew about him might have been a coma dream, or a made up illusion. You were walking to your workplace with a cup of coffee in your hand, and the ad was plastered neatly across from the windows from which you looked out when you got a little bored; inconvenient. It was there for a good three weeks, and every time as you looked into his eyes you wondered whether he remembered you.

If you would see him again, or your lack of ambition put an insurmountable divide between you, a chasm you wouldn't be able to hop over anymore. You would understand it if he changed to the unrecognizability, and was happy that at least you had that spring, the birds waking you up, little bed in Daegu, the smell of iodine tincture for his bruise, his lips on your cheek. Back when he needed you. The world might have claimed him now but for thirteen years before that, he was yours, and nothing could change the fact that Suga from BTS once sacrificed himseld to the dogs to save your life and then cried getting shots in his butt. He might have changed drastically, dyed his hair silver, started wearing silk jackets, throwing gang signs, rode expensive cars, but there was once a timline in which he couldn't go on a day without hearing your voice.

Let him be, you thought. Seoul taught you to live your life and have your little wins as well. Good grades at university. Interest in a profession, new hobbies. Social media presence. New friends. Occasional kisses in karaoke with pretty guys you didn't know. A favourite coffeeshop nearby the university where you went to do your projects or speak with your best friend. The old photo albums were hidden away in a wardrobe in Daegu, lying under the piles of your mother's old brown dresses and kerchiefs, the darkness keeping your childhood pictures vivid and safe.

���❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆

A year later you graduated and took the summer off to cool down, just walking through Seoul, feeling happier than ever because you finally had your own money to buy pizza.

BTS won a Daesang; you stopped following the band too closely because it became a chore that left a nasty taste in your mouth. It was like standing in a crowd of people where everybody started moving suddenly, without warning you, and this stirring left you confused, bruised and lost. They were getting big and not hearing about them was impossible anyway; on the internet, at the school where you worked, in classes, in coffeeshops and at bars where you went with friends, someone would mention them inevitably. You felt disconnected from BTS; you didn't know who they were. You barely remembered all of their names. Who were they? You were glad he made it and then your work was done; you didn't owe it to yourself anymore.

⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆

A call came in the afternoon, you pressed the green button on your phone without looking, consumed by your work. Yoongi's voice made the world around wobble, like you suddenly was hit over the head. Hello? What do you say? Is this really you? Why didn't you reply to my letter?

"What letter?" you got scared. Yoongi sounded shy on the other side.

"I sent you a letter back in winter. On paper".

"I didn't get any letters".

Your mind raced in panic. The mailbox only ever received the bills and postcards from friends. No handwritten letters, you would've remembered something like that. Yoongi went silent for a while. This silence was filled with suspicion, a hint of anger, or despair.

"I see. I sent it in December".

"What did it say?"

"I don't remember anymore", he lied. You both kept quiet.

"Are you still in Seoul?" he asked. You nodded, forgetting he can't see you, but he caught it anyway.

"You ready to move?"

You were taken aback.

"Where?"

"You're not married, are you?"

His questions all sounded more and more delirious.

"Why would I be married?" you moaned, a chucke tearing out through your throat. He laughed back. Then mentioned the plan. Don't you remember? What plan? You had no idea. It's like he was thinking he was talking to someone else. The thread of connection was severed. What fucking plan? The plan he had when he was leaving Daegu. He never disclosed the detailes, and you assumed the plan was simply to call on the weekends. You already forgot all about it. No, he said, the plan was to always come back to each other. However much time it takes. Figuring out the adult stuff, once he crawled over that mountain and stood on it, the plan was to find you again. Because you were always the only one person for him, that he was ready to love, ever since that day on the lake. No matter what he did or how he behaved, or what he dreamed about, the plan has always been to marry you.

"You never filled me in on that", you responded breathlessly.

"I must have forgotten", he chuckled. "Anyway. What are you doing tomorrow?"

"I have work", your hand dropped the pen, falling back on the chair. The sunspot blinded you right in the eye.

"Can you escape through the window?"

⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆⋆❁⋆

You pushed the grocery bag across the table and placed a mug, then poured tea in it. Your other hand lying on the small of your back for support. The entrance door beeped and clicked, and you understood you're cooked. You didn't get any calls or texts warning that Yoongi'd come home. It was 2:18 PM, way too early for him to be here. You walked over to the entrance hall, deciding to attack first, and then maybe he will get flustered and won't notice the groceries.

"What happened?" you asked, standing in the hallway, brows furrowed to give yourself a serious expression.

"Nothing", he stepped on the heel of his shoe to get the foot out, the kicked his sneakers towards the wall. Shook his head, getting rid of the raindrops from his bangs. Yoongi took off his jacket and hung it, then added,

"Han got sick, I think someone has finally poisoned his food, so he went to the hospital. So I have two hours to spare".

His hands reached you, one wrapping around the neck gently, the other placed on your belly. You walked back into the kitchen together, and his eyes narrowed:

"Did you go to the store alone?"

"I really wanted shrimps".

A sigh.

"You should've just ordered".

"I wanted to walk".

"It's raining!"

You pulled him away to make him stop; once he started fussing, it was impossible to shut him up for at least twenty minutes. How it's oh so bad for you to carry any weight, and how it's slippery and what if you feel nauseous, and why can't you wait for the evening so that you can go together. Your hand pulled him deeper into the house, to the living room, where the travel bags were still waiting to be unpacked. Have been there for the last two days; you felt too lazy and Yoongi was too tired in the evening.

"Look what I brought back from home".

You attempted to bow down, but the belly wouldn't let you. He squatted instead, guided by your finger, and dug inside.

"What, this?"

"No, the yellow paw".

He snickered as his hand pulled out the rabbit from under three pairs of jeans. It looked so positively thrashed by life that even the fur lost the glow of the color. But it still had both eyes, furry paws and the small, knot-like tail that hung from its butt, held only by one thread.

"The rabbit you stole from me?" he said.

"I didn't steal it, you gave it to me", you protested, lowering yourself on the couch. Yoongi's smile turned stubborn.

"Nah it was extorted from me. Nice of you to return it finally".

"I forgot all about it for years. I'm not returning it to you, you know".

He grimaced sweetly, getting to his knees, his eyes still on the rabbit in his hand. It used to seem big enough so that you could hug it with both arms, pressing the toy to your chest. Now, in his big hand, it was obvious the poor animal has always been small. Yoongi's chin stuck to your knee, the top of his head glistening with rain still, like he walked way longer than just from the car to the door.

"I will readjust the tail".

Your hand get into his hair, ruffling it, and he closed his eyes for a second, out of instinct.

"You hungry?"

"A little. Don't get up, I'll cook the shrimps".

The baby kicked.

[prophetszendo]

How the birds fly (Pt. 1)

Content warning: attempted suicide, very negative thoughts. Only read if you are in the right mindset

Summary: the adventuring life took a toll on you, and you face your feelings on a nightly walk

Pairing: Astarion/you (no use of pronouns or y/n)

Word count: 2.7k

Tags: hurt/comfort, kissing, I guess fluff?, I am horrible at tagging please forgive me

About the dialogs: they are in two different "-marks, because my program uses my native language as default. And as I'm not a native speaker, feel free to point out typos, or simply weird sentences. I aim to be better with English.

It was a very long day. You finally made camp after walking for half a day, defending yourselves against an ambush, then gettinf lost in some woods. You ended up in a clearing, somewhere up in a mountain. You were not even sure anymore that you were heading to the right direction.

Setting up camp always came with it’s duties. One of it was collecting wood for a fire so someone can make the only meal you usually eat a day. Today, you were on wood and branch duty. As if it wasn’t me nearly always – you thought to yourself. Everyone clearly preferred not doing it. It was a long task and if unsuccesful, the bearer could be blamed. They didn’t went far enough, didn’t look hard enough.

Of course, everyone was on edge by now. The tadpoles in your head, the waiting, the constant danger looming over all of you created this snappy and sarcastic environment. They never really meant any of it, it was just a way to let off some steam.

You tried to not think about any of it while you picked up another piece of wood. Somewhere in the distance you heard some birds rustling, chirping, and then flying away. You tried to look through the trees surrounding you to see their siluettes in the dawn, but they were far away.

Once you deemed you had enough wood, you headed back. You heard the camp from far away. Your companions talked loudly, as if they were in a tavern, not on some mountain in the middle of nowhere.

This used to make you smile. You used to think there was at least once place you could remotely call warm and home. Right now it just felt distant.

„I’m back” you announced. Your companions looked up in sync, and in agreement, they took all of it from you and started making a fire to cook. Everyone, except Astarion.

He had this game with you. Sometimes he gave you attention, and other times, like this, as if you were thin air. Which you probably wouldn’t have cared about that much, if only you didn’t have feelings for him for a time now. When he gave you his attention, it was simply heavenly. Great flirtatous talks, teasing words, maybe a few stolen moments alone, or a drink for him, from you. They were cherished by you.

You sighed as you sat down, watching the others get lost in the chaos of collecting the ingredients for dinner.

Gods, you felt alone.

Later, when it was already late at night, you lied in your tent, wide awake. You were exhausted, yet dreams evaded you. Maybe for the better – you thought to yourself. Since the tadpoles, they were confusing, and you couldn’t get the proper rest and awoke feeling tried.

You decided to take a walk. Maybe moving around could make you a bit more sleepy. You decided to take the same route you used for collecting wood. At least you had an idea where you were there, and where was camp.

It was a very clear night, the moon was also full and shining bright. So bright, that it nearly dimmed all of the stars.

You zoned out while walking. When you came to, you noticed a cliff. You decided to take a rest there, and using what light tbe moon provides to just sit and watch.

There was a branch conveniently a few meters from the edge of the cliff.

In the distance, you heard and owl making noise. The next moment, it flew above you, and into the horizon.

You always wanted to fly. It seemed so free. From everything. Let it be the ground that was under you, or the burden of everyday life.

Not that you had a big burden back in Baldur’s Gate. It was the opposite, really. Everyday was the same. It grew dull overtime. Yet you couldn’t find anything motivating enough to change it. You were prepared to grow old, doing the same thing. You also had trouble bonding with people there. Not that you didn’t try, the friendships just always seemed to wither away with time. And the tavern buddies slowly all stopped showing up, until you were sitting by yourself, drinking some cheap ale.

Originally you thought of this tadpole event to be the push you needed to finally change your life around for the better. Learn new skills, like how to set up camp, survive on your own, decide which berry is edible. Make great friends for life – if you make it out alive. You were positive at the start that you would. You took on every challenge, helped every person that came your way, moved every rock to find a cure.

The others started to see you as their leader. It made you happy, gave you a purpose.

Until it became too much. You had to make the hard choices: who to side with? Which lead to follow? Kill someone and be sure they won’t spill your plan to the enemy, or let them live and be hopeful that they will be true to their promise?

It didn’t help that everyone had opinions, which they didn’t hesitate to share. And someone always disapproved, and it was on you.

And seemingly only you had nothing personal to solve. Everyone had a life, a purpose, a big enemy, an end goal. A reason to get the tadpole out. What waited for you after the adventure was just... grey. As it was before.

You sometimes wished this adventure would never end. You liked being around everyone. Karlach’s happy demeanor, how she seemed to be excitied for everything. Lae’zel and Shadowheart’s conflicts did bring some tension, but it always turned out well in the end. Gale and his magical hunger made you slightly amused: who actually eats boots? Not to mention Wyll, Halsin or Volo.

Astarion. Obviously, he was the star of the group. For you, at least. You loved how he liked deception and mocking people. You loved hearing his sweet words, especially when one of those were your name. You loved, when he opened up a little about himself. How life was for him as a spawn. It twisted your heart to hear him struggle, and you tried to help any way you could. Basically blidly following if he had a suggestion, even claiming it was your idea, if the others asked.

You believed your feelings became obvious for the others some time ago. You overheard them talk, then suddenly go silent when they saw you. Your name was whisperes silently along with Astarion’s a few times, but you were never included in those conversations.

You stood up, and took a few steps ahead, while fixing your gaze on the stars. They looked beautiful, like tiny little lanters far in the sky.

Like how the blood splattered from the goblin you killed today.

The image suddenly invaded your mind, and you now all you saw in the sky was bloodshed and violence. You didn’t want to end their life, it seemed pointless. They didn’t even seem so evil, just like a few pawns in the bigger game.

You tried to redirect your thoughts, so you thought about something else. More precisely, someone else. His silverish hair, eyes so sharp, that they see into your soul, his vampire smile he only shows with you.

Usually these pictures comfort you, but how Astarion had been acting lately, you just felt more invisible, even smaller.

Yes, invisible. You found the right word. As if you were hidden behind your responsibilities and decisions. As if your opinions, emotions did not matter anymore. Because you will do all the hard stuff, let it be collecting wood, taking the blame, or deciding to let someone bleed out or end their suffering.

They probably haven’t even noticed just how much you had on your shoulders.

Would they notice if you were gone?

You took a few steps closer to the cliff. You wondered what could be on the bottom. Maybe the river you passed recently? Or was that on the other side? Maybe a few boulders.

The memory of the birds you heard today flashed i ro your mind. You really did want to feel free, like how they were flying away from you.

You stood on the edge. The front of your feet were not even on the ground anymore. The moon didn’t give enough light to see what was on thr bottom. It seemed like a dark pit, that could just swallow you whole.

You felt something cold on your face. You realized that while you were lost in your thoughts, you started crying.

You never faced your raw feelings before. Maybe that’s why. Or because you finally made a decision. One, that would make sure you never ever had to make anymore.

„I always wanted to try flying...” you whispered in front of you, into the abyss.

You closed your eyes, and put your arms out, imitating wings. You shifted your weight, and started to fall forward...

...and with a suddend yank, you fell back, onto something warm.

You were confused, and it took you a few seconds to realize what happened. Sounds slowly made it to your ear, and the little light into your eyes.

„Fuck, dammit, you... No, it’s not your fault, I’m sorry, but shit, I can’t believe... Do you know what you were doing?!”

A voice came from under and behind you. It was rambling, sounding very distraught. Maybe even scared.

You turned around, still a bit lightheaded from the shock of falling backwards. Your eyes met a very familiar pair of scarlet eyes.

Astarion.

He was panting, as if he ran from camp all the way here. But you doubted it, he wouldn’t run after you. Maybe he noticed you were gone?

Suddenly, he hugged you tightly. His fingers dug into you, as if you could just float away anytime from his grasp. He felt warm, which was unusual to you. But truth be told, he never held you like this before.

He struggled breathing. He didn’t need to get air, which just added to the list of strange things happening. Maybe you actually fell and now living in just a fantasy?

But no, you slowly started to hear soft sniffles with the breathing. Astarion was... Sobbing.

„I’m... So, so sorry” he said, making eyecontact again. You noticed tears forming in his eyes.

You were at a loss for words. You finally pieced together what happened. Astarion saved you in the last second, and he was clearly distraught by what happened.

You felt guilty.

„What happened?” Astarion asked with a soft voice. You looked away, not being able to make a sound. You yearned to share your feelings with him, but there seemed to be no proper words to use. Nor a voice to say anything with.

„You... You’re so strong. What happened? What did we... What did I miss?”

The correction in his sentence made you heart flutter and ache at the same time. He clearly was very caring towards you, but you feared it was just one of those times and that it would never last longer than a few days.

„I’m...” you stuttered. Your voice felt like it wasn’t yours. You had to put all your strength into forming just a few words. „...not...strong...”

Astarion looked at you, with immense worry. You couldn’t say more now, and you felt like you couldn’t speak again for a long time.

You tugged on his tadpole, inviting him for a visit in your mind. You previously all agreed in the group, that you give everyone the privacy of their own mind, so you opening a way into yours was unusual.

You gave him a faint smile. You tried to put encouragement into it. He closed his eyes, and stepped through the door into your memories and feelings.

You showed him everything. How life was for you in Baldur’s Gate, and just how miserable you felt. How the initial excitement of this adventure turned into a daily torture of decisions, where there was no right answer, responsibilities which were crushing you, and the constant judgement of others.

You showed him the rollercoaster of feelings his actions caused. The hope you cradled for so much time, the longing you felt for him. The pain you felt everytime it seemed like he was just toying with you.

You shared how ready you were to let things end.

As he experienced your feelings, his arm grew even tighter around you, and he slowly buried his wet face into your neck.

After you showed him everything, he pulled out of your mind. He lifted his head, but only so much that his mouth was to your ear.

„You’re so much stronger than I thought you to be, darling” he whispered. „I never knew you struggled so much. You always seemed so sure, you... You never took any shit. You seemed so brave and determined.”

He gulped, and took a deep breath. He slowly lifted his head fully, to be face to face with you.

„I guess... I never thought about how it affects you. It was so easy following what you say, letting you decide on every crossroad. And it was so easy... Blaming you, if something went south. We... I should’ve stopped to think about you. And how you feel.”

Tears started forming again. He took another shaky breath, and tried to quickly blink them away.

„I always took you for granted. A strong leader, who is always there. And not just there...”

He looked down. You saw a single teardrop sneaking over his cheek. You never saw him this vulnerable before.

„I took you granted in a more... personal way too. Now that I saw myself through your eyes, I understand. Gods, I was such an asshole with you.”

He paused for a moment, as if searching for words. He opened his mouth, but closed it back soon. You sat in silence for a bit. You didn’t mind.

For the first time, you felt seen.

„I was scared of my own feelings” Astarion said suddenly. You sligthly raised your eyebrows, suggesting suprise. His own feelings?

„Yes. The ones I have for you.”

Your stomach filled up with butterflies. Did you hear that correctly? You couldn’t do anything, but blink at him.

„Whenever I realized just how much I care about you, I pushed you away. In my past, caring about someone meant you had another exploitable weak spot. Someone they could hurt to hurt you. And I didn’t want anyone to hurt you. So I pushed you away, since if I’m cold towards you, noone will think anything of you.”

He chuckled a little.

„But I could never keep it up for long. Because I missed you, Gods I missed you so much, even when you were right beside me, covering my back in a battle, sleeping just a few tents away. And yet, I kept missing you so much, it hurt. And now that I see, just how much it hurt you, I regret it so, incredibly much. We could have had sweet stolen moments together, if only I was less stubborn, and looked out for you a little more.”

Astarion looked utterly defeated and sad. You felt the truth in his words, and it was something you only ever dreamed of. You raised your hand to caress his cheek. He gave you one of those vampire smiles that made your knees weak.

He lifted both his hands, and held your face just under your ears. He pulled you closer to himself, and out your foreheads together. It was a very intimate moment.

„I think I fell in love with you” he whispered so silently, you barely heard it. But you did. And it gave your voice back.

„I fell in love with you, too” you said, giving him the first real smile since you were here.

He slowly leaned closer to you. You closed your eyes, and got lost in the moment.

And then... He kissed you.

[anon-sect]

Tom had a major crush on his neighbor. He had been over at David's house a few times and were good friends with him. But he never told him how much he liked him. He soon found out that David was straight and had a girlfriend. Yet, he still liked the guy even though it would only be a fantasy in his mind.

One day, while hanging out over at David's place, he told him how many UPS socks he goes through in a short period of time. They seem not to last long on his feet. A pair only last about two weeks max before he has to trash them. Tom had a solution to his problem that he wondered if his neighbor would take the offer.

"I can give you a pair of work socks that will last longer than two weeks, gaurented." Tom spoke with assurance. David gave him a look of disbelief. "No way, it's impossible. Normal socks are simply destroyed by my feet." David remarked back.

Tom was determined to prove him wrong. "I will be right back." He told him and quickly left. He came back ten minutes later holding a small cell phone like device. "I drank a durability formula before coming back. You use this device to turn me into a pair of UPS work socks. I promise you, I will last longer than two weeks." He told David.

David didn't know if he was joking, being serious or certified crazy at the moment. He watched as Tom typed something into the cell phone looking device. "I have also programmed the restore feature for after the two weeks. All you have to do is hit flash, and you will have a pair of new work socks that your feet won't destroy." Tom told him. He was still in doubt. He handed him the device. "You do know if this really works, I will literally wear you to see if what you say is true. My feet will test how durable you are. I would hate to have my feet completely ruin you." He remaked, hoping his neighbor might change his mind. "Prove it." Tom replied back with a serious look. Seeing that his neighbor would not take no for an answer, he hit the flash part. He was amazed. Tom was completely replaced with a pair of new UPS work brown socks. He picked them up and saw they looked normal, yet he knew they weren't. "Two weeks, buddy. We will see how my feet can handle you." He spoke to the socks, feeling weird doing so.

Tom was so happy about his new situation. He had literally become David's work socks. He couldn't wait till the next day.

The following morning, David got up, showered, and got ready for work. The only difference was that his socks were a living person. He almost felt bad as he put the socks on his feet, but then thought about how much his neighbor wanted this so badly. He put his shoes on and prepared to start his day as normal.

Tom was instantly bombarded by the pressures of being stepped on and stood on as David began to walk around before leaving home. It was painful, but the pleasure of being wrapped around his feet made the pain bearable. The second part, he was not fully prepared for. The odor in David's work shoes was strong, but being that his senses were almost 200 times stronger than normal, the smell was almost obnoxious. He could hear David get in his car on his way to work. He began to wonder if his mind could survive this little bet he made with his neighbor.

David started his day early in the morning and usually wasn't finished until late in the evening. He had a lot of stops on his route each day. Some had a lot of packages, and some would have one or two. As his dey wore on going from stop to stop, he noticed his feet weren't hurting. He didn't have to take as my breaks as before to get off his feet. This was the first time he literally could keep going all the way till all the packages were delivered for that day. He was amazed at the socks on his feet. The shoes were his normal shoes, only the socks were different. He arrived back home later that evening and saw his feet completely dry. The socks themselves were barely wet. His feet didn't have an odor at all. The socks even absorb that. He rather loved his new socks he was borrowing for two weeks.

Tom found his new existence as not pleasing as he had initially imagined. He was drinking up every amount of foot sweat from David's feet as he went from stop to stop, walking the heat. It was disgusting. To make it worse, any odor from his feet was taken in by his new sock bodies. He was smelling like his owner's feet. He was living the full existence of being just socks. Maybe taking this two weeks bet was not such a good idea. He had no way of telling David he changed his mind. He could only hope that David would change him back soon.

TWO WEEKS LATER.....

David had thought about changing his neighbor back to normal after the first day ended, but seeing how well the socks performed, he wanted to keep the two weeks test going. He wanted to see if his neighbor could survive the brutality of his feet for that long. He wore him during the week and jerked off in him at least twice just for the fun of it. On the weekends, he would wash his special work socks. Normally, his socks are slightly worn and have a hole in the toes, but after two straight weeks, the socks still look in good condition. There was no wear or tear, not even a single hole. His neighbor was really right about what he said. He pointed the device at his socks and hit flash.

Tom found himself normal again after two weeks. For ten days, he was wrapped around his neighbor's feet. The jerking off part was so wrong, he thought to himself. He somehow had some mental clarity after his two week adventure as socks. "See, best socks you ever had, I bet." He spoke after two weeks of not having a voice to speak at all.

"About that, I proposee you be my work socks from now on. You are my best pair I ever had." David paused. "I would just borrow you during the week and release you on the weekend." He added while making adjustments on the cell phone looking device.

"Absolutely not. I won't be your working socks forever. Go find another volunteer for that." Tom immediately objected to the idea entirely.

David firgured his neighbor would say that. He pointed the device back at him and hit flash. Tom was reduced back to UPS brown work socks. He deleted his human form from the device. He picked up the socks. "I figured you might say something like that, so I decided for you. You have no choice. I need excellent work socks, and you are going to be them even if you don't agree with it." He added as placed them into his work shoes. He got on his bed to take a nap. Resting assured that he had the best works socks ever. Once he eventually retires, he would decide what to do with his former neighbor since he will never be human again.

Tom found himself voiceless and immobilized again as socks. He mentally objected to what just happened to him, but no one could hear him. He was his neighbor's UPS socks now. He realized he could only blame himself. The whole thing was his idea in the beginning, anyway.

[thecapricunt1616]

Daddy! Carmy on Fathers Day

Happy Fathers day everyone! I of course could not get Daddy Carmy out of my head today, so heres a drabble!!!

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

You’re woken up by the feeling of something small and firm poking your cheek, you opened your eyes to see your 4 year old son and his twin sister smiling big. You couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face and sit up, rubbing your eyes “Hey guys-” 

“Shhhh!” Ivy, your daughter pressed her fingers to her lips and hushed you, “Daddy’s sweepin- come mama” she whispered, but a child whisper that was more like just barely quieter than her regular talking voice. Thankfully, over the past year or so since the kids weren’t breastfeeding anymore and Carmy wasn’t carrying them back and forth from their bedroom to you in the night, he had become more accustomed to sleeping through more noise instead of waking and jumping to check on them at every little fuss. 

You nodded and sit up, stretching a bit before carefully taking off your covers and grabbing your bathrobe after sliding into your slippers and holding their hands as you went off to the living room. “You guys remember what today is mm?” you ask and Levi giggles 

“Thats why we woke you! We gotta make special breakfast for daddy and- and I’m gonna draw him a picture! Can you get my crayons mommy please please?” he asked and went to grab his construction paper pad he left at their little craft table. 

“And I’m gonna help you with daddys breakfast mommy we can do pretty sparkle pancakes we can use my glitter my special glitter from my birthday!” Ivy dragged her little cooking tower to the counter as Levi whizzed around grabbing glitters and glue sticks and colored pencils.

“Crayons, Mommy! Need’a special sparkle blue” he sat on his knees in front of the coffee table and pushed up the sleeves of his toy story pajamas. 

“Yes- yes yes cubs theres one mommy and two requests, please, patience” That was one thing about these two, no patience, and all the fire you could imagine for two tiny Berzatto children. You wished they could have gotten the patience from their father - but, instead they got their fiery passion and drive from you, and your husbands ‘I want the best, so I'll be the best and everyone will agree that I'm the best’ attitudes. 

Both of them were already in the talented and gifted program in their preschool, and they were both already reading and writing at least at a second or third grade level. This was simply because you had been determined from the moment they were born to do absolutely all of the head start childhood education you could with them, that you never got the opportunity for in your childhood that you had to pay for later.

“For you - no eating it with a spoon missy” you place the edible glitter down in front of her and she giggled. You had Carmy bring home some of the glitter from the restaurant for her birthday cupcakes last year (yes they both got their own cakes or cupcakes, the two of you agreed when you found out you were having twins they would always feel like their own person) and the day after, Carmy came into your bedroom and asked if you forgot to close the pantry as you were doing your eyeliner for a night out, you asked why and when his response was 

“Please look at your daughter” with an air of amusement to his tone, and you looked up to see him holding your hot pink metallic glitter mouthed babygirl, you couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“Aw no! Thats all daddy- shes just a natural born taste tester huh?”  You smiled at the memory as you plop down the 164 massive pack of crayons that Levi had suckered Carmy into buying for him when they went to Target together. Carmy swore he just went into the store for a new phone charger, but Levi just had to see the craft section, and with his big blue puppy eyes he just couldn’t say no when he asked to get them so they could ‘color pictures together with Ivy and Mommy’ He often fell prey to Levi’s begging, and he was much worse with it than Ivy. 

It was likely because his dad was so hard on he and his siblings when they were younger, he had told you alot of stories about his dad while you were pregnant. It was likely because he was so afraid to turn out like him. But Carmy had become very proactive which is a big change from his 20’s. He used to put things off, especially hard things until he physically could not avoid them anymore - but since he had learned about your pregnancy he had started going to therapy consistently to work out his feelings at the very least and understand them so he wouldn’t make the same mistakes his father made with him.

“Thats right angel two eggs” you encourage as Ivy took another egg out of the carton and carefully tapped it on the counter like her dad had been teaching her basically since she had come home from the hospital. “Wow look at that huh- you been practicing with daddy without me?” you joked, kissing the side of her curly blonde hair sweetly and taking the shells to throw away.

“I been cracking them for daddy! I wanna learn how to do one hand like him” she said, carefully mixing together the batter with the child sized whisk you had gotten for her from her special drawer of cooking tools. When she was about two, Carmy had done a whole bunch of research into Montessori parenting, and how children when taught are way more capable of things then we give them credit for. He quickly started teaching them age appropriate things, and they even had a tiny little functioning fridge and sink at their height to prepare veggies and small things like bowls of cereal as he had taught them how to do those things by themself. Hopefully he said, by the time they were 7 or 8 they could safely use the stove, which it seemed like that was going to be the case because they were already able to use it fully safely while being supervised directly.

“An’ you gotta be careful mommy, ‘cause it’s hot you’ll get ouchie” she instructs as she holds her had a (very, likely overly cautious - but you preferred it that way) ways away from the pan that had the bubbling pancake batter in it, and drops 3 blueberries before clapping for herself with a proud smile and you do the same. “See! Good job!” she said happily and you rubbed her back gently 

“Thats right princess- a very good job! Mommy is gonna flip it now, okay, i’ll be super careful cause its hot right?” you repeat her words from earlier and she mutters a little ‘right’ as you flipped the pancakes over in the pan to reveal the perfect golden brown bottom. She always reminded you of her dad that way, getting all quiet and staring intently with her lip drawn between her teeth as she focused. 

“Mommy look! See thats Levi and thats Ivy and Mommy and Daddy and Auntie Sugar and Uncle Richie and Eva! And - and uncle Pete is at work I guess cause I forgot him- and here it says I love you daddy!” he shoves it in your hands and you take it gasping and smiling big at the colorful work.

“Wow baby!” You picked him up, holding him on your hip as you looked, “So pretty- daddy is gonna love this!” you kiss his cheek and set him back down and he took it, running off likely to make another picture and Ivy tugs your robe

“Mommy!! Take it off take it off!!” She said urgently and pointed. You grabbed the plate and the spatula, taking off the pancakes to reveal perfectly brown bottoms.  “See! All is well princess, now - how about some eggs for these pancakes, mm? You got out a bowl and a fork. It wasnt long until your pancake egg bacon coffee shindig had been assembled on a tray, as well as 2 pictures and a ‘Happy Fater Fathers Day Daddy We ❤ you!' Card.

You nudged open your bedroom door with your hip and your little carbon copies of your husband go racing in and jump on the bed, Ivy plops on Carmys chest and Levi snuggled into his side happily, ever the daddys boy, it was something that made Carmys heart melt since he never felt comfortable asking for love or attention from his own father, he was more then happy to give it to him.

He was up then, with a big bear yawn and a dramatic groan to make the kids laugh. "Do I know you two clowns? Honey- who let these little bedheads in our room?" he teases making them giggle harder.

"Its fathers day daddy! We made you breakfast!" Ivy said as if he could forget and he gasps

"You did?! No way whats on the menu this morning, Chef?" he kissed her cheek with a smooch before giving levi the same and they each snuggled into a side of him as he sat up, the comforter falling down to reveal a bare and much softer chest now, since fatherhood had definitely cut down on his free time that used to be spent at the gym. You loved it all the same, some days even more.

"Blueberry pancakes! Mommy helped and they have unicorn dust" she said and you smiled as you set the tray in his lap, taking your cup of coffee and sitting at his feet. His smile grew as he saw the drawings Levi made as well as the card.

"And what are these, mm?" he looks over at Levi and he smiled proudly and began going on a tangent to his dad about each little detail. Just simply because of the joy that came to your husband with being showered with all the love and attention he deserved -

Fathers Day was one of your favorite days of the year.

[project-sekai-facts]

Hiii I'm a newer fan and I have a few questions about how the SEKAIs work

1. When you leave the SEKAI, does it spit you back out the same place that you entered it? Or can you use it to teleport?

2. On that note, in the Wonderlands x Showtime main story, Emu and Nene hold on to Rui while Tsukasa transports them all. This means you do not need one phone per person to travel. Can he do this because they also have the Untitled songs on their phones? Or can this be done to ANYONE? Could it work on those from a different unit?

3. Do we know if there's a limit to the number of outside things someone can bring into the SEKAI? For example, if the Empty SEKAI is essentially limitless, could it be used essentially like a bag of holding from DnD? Could it store the Mediterranean Sea? Could you steal something and put it in the SEKAI to erase the evidence?

4. Do things brought into the SEKAI ever disappear? If they do, do they return to where the objects were in the real world, or do they simply vanish?

5. If you give something to someone inside the SEKAI, can they take that thing with them outside of the SEKAI? Can it be used to teleport objects? Or will the object return to the person who originally brought it? Or will it stay in the SEKAI until the original person takes it out?

6. Why do they have to hide the Vocaloids on their phones? What do they think will happen if people see a hologram of Kagamine Len? Wouldn't it just be assumed that they're looking at a vocaloid video or some kind of sophisticated VTube program? Why would someone automatically assume magic?

Thank you for your time! I have no idea if these questions have even been thought of; it seems more like the SEKAI are supposed to be metaphorical than treated as proper aspects of science fiction. So if you have/find any answers, I would greatly appreciate it!

1. It sends you back to where you were when you went in. This is shown most notably in the wxs main story where kigurumi-san says he saw Tsukasa and Emu disappear and reappear.

2. Sekai only allow certain people into them (the people with the specific untitled file on their device). This might change later this year.

3. This is something that they've never really gone into detail about, but you can probably put as much in as you want. They're pretty much endless or at least very very large.

4. No, they just stay there until you take them back out

5. The way the game seems to work is that whatever you are holding goes in/out the sekai with you (things like chairs you are sitting on seem exempt from this). So yes this technically means you can teleport objects, but only ones that came from the real world. Stuff that was created by the Sekai can't be taken out.

6. Probably just basic sci-fi rules of not trying to freak out the general public. Emu mentions that normal phones are able to display holograms in-universe, so in theory it shouldn't weird people out. But then again if anyone found out any level of detail about you having an mp3 file that warps you to an alternate dimensional plane where Hatsune Miku is legit real and based on your emotions would probably make you subject of government research. Like WxS use the vsinger holograms in the Wonder Magical Showtime event because they can use the excuse of "it's a show we just have the technology" and they never get sued by crypton and you could probably just say "cool app" if anyone saw it briefly but if people find out any actual info it's a problem.

Hope this is helpful!

[mochie85]

A Reunion

One Shots Masterlist | Complete Masterlist

Summary: A chance meeting with someone from your past makes you relive the worst moments of high school. Luckily, your best friend, Bucky is there to help you forget. Pairing: James "Bucky" Barnes x Female reader. Word Count: Over 4k Warnings: Fluff. Flirtatious Bucky. Use of Y/N (only once) Taglist: Join here Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

“Oh god! No, no, no.” You exclaimed as quietly as you could. You turned around and hid behind your hand, covering your face. Bucky was confused- chuckling as he watched you try to make yourself smaller, unnoticeable. As if that were ever possible, he thought.

“What’s wrong? Wh-why are you hiding?” He asked as he tried to follow your gaze.

“STOP IT! SHH!” You tried to shush him. Trying to make him stop jerking his head around and calling attention to your table.

“Why are you HIDING?!” he yelled louder to annoy you. Your eyes grew big with anger, and you kicked him under the table. He laughed and pretended to be hurt as he rubbed his poor shin.

“Ok. Don’t look now, but the woman to your seven was someone I knew in high school.” You whispered to him. Bucky turned his head to see the lady in question. “I SAID DON’T LOOK!” you whisper-yelled as you kicked him once again.                     

“Doll, if you keep that up, I might need a metal leg to match my arm.” He said rubbing where you kicked him.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just…she brings out the worst in me. Whatever I got, she got, but better. Always better,” you said with a sneer. “When I got tickets to go see my favorite band, she got premiere passes.” Bucky smiled and shrugged. “She hated The Gorillaz! Said she never got the whole cartoon thing.” His demeanor gave you the impression he didn’t think it was that bad.

“I worked for two years to buy myself a used car. What did she get? A brand-new Lexus with daddy’s credit card. The same weekend I bought my car! She didn’t even know how to drive! Her older brother dropped her off at school every morning. Everyone had a crush on him. They all wanted to be her friend because of Bryce. And she knew it.”

“Everyone…had a crush on him?” Bucky raised his eyebrows at you. You simply narrowed your eyes back at him.

“Not the point, Barnes. When I applied to CalTech for college, she said she wasn’t interested in West Coast schools. A few months later, she showed me an acceptance letter from them! I didn’t even know she had the grades or the extracurriculars to pull it off. Turns out, there was a sizeable donation to the school’s robotics program made so generously from her family.”

“Sounds like she just really wanted to be you,” Bucky said smirking.

“Ya. So much so, that she stole my boyfriend senior year!” you spat out.

“Ouch,” Bucky hissed. “Ok, ya. That one’s a low blow.” He turned his head inconspicuously again to get a better look at your so-called friend. She was beautiful; in the sense that everything was well-manicured and put together. Not a hair out of place. She had an aura of money- evident by the sparkle of her well-placed jewelry.

Bucky turned back to you. You had a more natural beauty. You didn’t try too hard, it just shone out. He’s seen you undercover before in one of the missions where you had to be dolled up. God help him, you knocked everyone out. Even Loki took a break from his brooding to look at you. Bucky has never been the same since.

“Look. It was a long time ago. I tried to go my separate way after high school. I honestly don’t even know if she attended CalTech or not. But what I do know is that I don’t want to see her.”

“Y/N is that you?!” you heard a shrill voice come closer.

Shit.

You put on your show smile. The smile you reserve for undercover missions. “Rachel! What a lovely surprise.” She went up to you along the iron fence of the café’s patio and tried to hug you.

She kissed you on both sides of your cheek as she said, “I didn’t know you were back in New York. I thought you would’ve stayed in California.” You didn’t miss the way her eyes scanned you up and down, homing in on things to probably critique you with.

Her eyes also kept drifting back between you and Bucky. “Wait, I’ve seen you before.” She said pointing to him. “Aren’t you an Avenger?” she squealed.

“Yes ma’am,” Bucky answered, saluting casually with a smile.

“Rachel, this is James Barnes, the Winter Soldier. Bucky, this is a friend of mine from high school, Rachel,” you introduced.

“Wow,” Rachel said, shaking hands with Bucky. “Bucky, is it?”

“James. Bucky is for close friends only,” he said with a practiced smile.

“I’ve never met a superhero before,” she charmed.

“Of course, you have. Dollface over here.” Bucky said pointing to you. Your smile faltered slightly at having the attention thrown back your way.

“Oh my gosh, that’s right! I’ve seen some of your heroics on TV! Amazing work.” Rachel said to you.

“Thank you.” You said surprised. Maybe this happenstance might not be so bad after all. Maybe she has changed.

“All that training and the time outdoors have done wonders for your body and your complexion. You look so much healthier now!”

Nope! She’s still horrible!

“She’s always been lovely,” Bucky interjected, giving you a half smile.

“Oh. My. Gosh. That’s so cute!” she said in a mock baby voice.  “How romantic. How long have you two been together?” Rachel asked, prying and pointing in between the both of you.

“Oh, we’re just friends.” You were quick to throw in. You didn’t want Bucky to feel uncomfortable around you and have to explain anything he didn’t need to.

Rachel just looked between you and Bucky. Her eyes delaying in his direction. “Well, now that I know you’re in town, you must come to the charity event my dad is hosting next week. I know for a fact that your boss is going to be there!”

“My boss? Fury?”

“Fury, who? Is that what he’s calling himself nowadays? Yes. He and his wife Pepper have already RSVP’d.”

“Oh, you mean Tony?” you asked.

“He’s not our boss,” Bucky corrected with slight irritation.

“Oh, well, sure. Ok, I can send him the invite and let him know to forward it to you,” she smiled sweetly at you. “And maybe a plus one…” she said, her eyes darting to Bucky quickly.

“We might be busy. You know…saving the world and all,” you quickly declined. The last thing you needed was to be stuck in an event with her and some of her uptight friends.

“Already sent!” she said ignoring you and tapping on her phone. “I hope to see you both there!” She smiled at you and gave Bucky a wink. “We’ll be friends in no time, Bucky!” she said to him as a promise. Not if I have anything to do with it, you thought.

“Ugh. If she thinks that Tony can tell us what to do and go to this party, then she’s just as self-absorbed as she was in high school. You can’t just tell people what to do because you have money!”

“You have to go!” Tony ordered.

“No!” you answered back.

“Pepper and I can’t make it. Morgan’s got a play and Peter is competing at a science fair. You guys are the only other ones invited. You have to go.”

“What do you mean, have to? I don’t have to do anything! Especially go to an event where I won’t know anybody except for my mortal enemy!” you argued.

“Mortal enemy?! Aren’t you being a tad overdramatic now? Besides, you go to my parties all the time. I don’t see you ever complaining about going.”

“That’s because I like the people I’m with and you have an open bar for all the Avengers!”

“Not to Asgardians!”

“Only because they can outdrink everyone IN THE STATE!”

“Why are you YELLING?! WHAT ARE WE EVEN FIGHTING ABOUT?!”

“I DON’T KNOW!” You and Tony squared off, looking at each other with your arms crossed.

“Look, her family are big investors in Adamantium. Her mother is in a council to help get in favor with the Wakandans to get Vibranium…” Tony tried to reason.

“Do you even need Vibranium? I’m pretty sure Steve could just call King T’Challa right now.”

“Not the point…” Tony tried again.

“Heck, Bucky over there probably has Shuri’s number!” you quarreled back, pointing to Bucky lounging on the sofa.

“The princess? No. But I do have Okoye’s. She checks in on me from time to time,” Bucky admitted, knocking on his metal arm.

“You’ve been awfully quiet this whole time, Barnes. Don’t you have anything to say about it? Don’t you want to go? You’re invited too.” Tony addressed him.

“I’ll go if dollface over here goes. And only then.” He stretched out and placed his arms behind his head, pulling his baseball cap over his eyes, signaling the end of his input into the subject.

“I’m not going, Tony. You can’t make me!” you yelled petulantly.

“Consider this an undercover mission. Okay?” Tony placated. “Go. Mingle. Charm everyone in the room. Gather some intel on your mortal enemy. Wine and dine them, then come home.” You squinted your eyes at him.

“Do it for Morgan. She would be so upset if mummy and daddy weren’t there to see her debut as apple tree #2…or was it #3? And Peter! He worked for months on his science project! Think of the sad teary eyes he would have when he sees we’re not there to support him. You don’t want Spider-Man to have sad, teary eyes, would you?!”

“Ugh, it’s not fair you’re using the munchkins as your excuse!”

“I don’t play fair. Especially when it comes to the kids, I would do anything to make the munchkins happy. You know this. Even putting you in the hands of your mortal enemy! Mwuahaha” Tony wrung his hands like a classic villain bent on world domination.

“For Morgan!” you pointed to his chest. “And Peter! Not for you. Not for all the Adamantium in the world. Understand?!”

“Completely!”

“And you’re paying for my dress!”

“Ugh, fine,” Tony said with a sigh.

“And shoes!”

“What happened to the last pair of Louboutins I got you?!”

“I had to be resourceful,” you said lifting your chin. “I used it to stab a HYDRA agent in the neck,” you smugly admitted. Tony and Bucky winced.

“Fine. Shoes too,” Tony conceded. “And you, Manchurian Candidate? Need anything?” he turned to Bucky.

“Ya. My gun is jamming even after I’ve already cleaned it. Do you think you can get me a different type of lube?” Bucky asked with a straight face. You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but suppress your laughter from behind your hand.

 “I’m dealing with children,” Tony mumbled under his breath as he started to leave.

“Buck!” you chuckled.

“What?! It’s for the gun! I swear!” he shrugged, proudly smiling that he made you laugh.

You sat next to him on the couch. Your whole body turned towards him as he rested his hand on your knee. “Are you really gonna go with me?” you asked timidly.

“Honestly, I thought you’d never listen to Tony and just flat-out refuse. I was counting on it.” You gasped looking him dead in the eye. “I thought you’d put up more of a fight!” he laughed as you grabbed a throw pillow and repeatedly hit him in the chest. “Ow! Dollface. Stop it!” he chuckled. “Jesus, you’re violent.”

“I could’ve used your help! If you didn’t want to go, you should’ve said something! He couldn’t make both of us go! Big help you were!” you huffed as you settled on the sofa.

“I’m sorry,” he said still chuckling. He pulled you in closer to him as you cradled his body towards yours. It was effortless. He wrapped his left arm over your shoulders and you lost count of all the times he would hold you like this, in the safety of his arms. It never made you feel cold or shiver. It made you feel safe. Protected. Like you could take on the world (and your mortal enemy) as long as he was with you. “It can’t be that bad, can it? You, me, all dressed up with a night on the town. All on Tony’s dime,” he answered looking into your eyes.

Whenever you caught his eyes, you always got lost in them. Blue- like a sunny sky on a cloudless beach. So, when Bucky painted this wonderful fantasy, you could vividly picture it. Little flutters in your stomach sprung forth at the thought of Bucky all dressed up. Looking as menacing as ever. “I hate that you’re being dragged into this. I’m sorry, Buck.”

“Why are you sorry? I’d never leave a man down. Especially you.” You suddenly felt the weight of his body pressed next to you.

“Ok. I guess I feel better about going.”

“Geez, she’s gonna kill me!” Bucky cried as he punched another agent in the face.

“Come now, soldier. What could she genuinely do?” Loki asked, trying to make Bucky feel better.

“You don’t know how resourceful she could be. What she could do with a pair of pointy heels!” Bucky answered.

“Oh, I know. I was there on that mission,” Loki chuckled. “You’re not that late. Besides…” he trailed off as he sunk his dagger into the oncoming HYDRA agent. “This was an emergency: life and death and all that. I’m sure she’ll understand,” Loki said dismissively.

“I don’t even have a suit! I forgot to get one! Oh, man! I can’t show up looking like this! I’m gonna embarrass her in front of her friends!” Bucky spread his arms out, looking down at his leather uniform splattered with ash and blood. His bright metal hand, flexing, as he brought his arm around again to deliver a final blow to the last agent standing.

Loki huffed, cleaving his dagger off some unsuspecting enemy. “Fear not, my friend, for we are finished with our chores, and I think it’s time for Cinderella to go to the ball, yes?”

“What are you saying?”

“I’ll be your proverbial godmother,” Loki spread his arms with a wide grin.

I’m gonna kill him! NO! First, I’m gonna take his metal arm and bash him over the head with it. THEN, I’m gonna kill him!

Bucky had stood you up. You spent the better part of the afternoon getting dressed and working your hair and make-up to go to this party that you didn’t even want to go to. Only to have Bucky be a no-show.

You thought back to what could’ve gone wrong. Did he forget? Was it your fault? You spent so much time dreading this party that you forgot to set any details with him. You didn’t want to think about it or give it any power over you. So, discussing the particulars with him might’ve slipped from your mind.

When you went to his room to leave together, he wasn’t there. FRIDAY said he had already left. So, you assumed that he took a separate ride to the party. Slightly crestfallen, you had Happy drop you off at the main entrance to the museum where the party was being held. Hoping you would catch him on the way in. But he wasn’t here either.

Now here you were, three canapés down with a flute of tepid Riesling, pretending to look at the portraits and paintings rather than engage with anyone else in conversation. You were seething. Your anger must’ve been evident because people avoided you all night. One look at you and they quickly turned as if you were the plague incarnate. Just like high school all over again.

“Y/N is that you?!” Rachel’s shrill voice echoed in the vast room. You closed your eyes, stilling your already fraying nerves. You turned to face her and were met, not only by her but by a crowd of people following her as well. “I hardly recognized you! You clean up so well.”

“Thank you, Rachel,” you said with sarcasm dripping out from every syllable.

“You remember my brother, Bryce,” she said gesturing to the guy standing next to her. Bryce looked handsome and dashing in his tailored black tuxedo. And he knew it too! He had the air of someone who was used to getting whatever and whomever he wanted. Evident by the not-so-subtle way he looked you up and down and leered.

“Of course. Bryce how are you?” you asked, offering your hand for a shake.

“On-shan-tay,” he said with a haughty fake accent. He took your offered hand and kissed the back of it, feeling the sticky Chapstick from his lips. God, at least you hope it was Chapstick. The whole act made you cringe. It wasn’t as smooth or as charming as Loki would’ve done it. It definitely wasn’t the comforting hug and kiss Bucky would’ve left on your cheek. He would’ve squeezed you tight till you went limp in his arms.

Thinking about Bucky made you miss him. You only hope he had a good reason as to why he stood you up tonight. You tried to hide the snide in your lips as you pried your hand back from Bryce. You wiped it behind you, surreptitiously stepping to the side, giving more space in between you.

“Are you here by yourself? I thought you would’ve brought your handsome friend with you.” Rachel said loudly enough for her crowd to hear. “Oh Y/N, you always were the lone wolf. Never one to have any serious relationships. Even in high school,” she chuckled lightly, prompting her friend group to smile and jeer behind her.

“Yes. It was difficult. Especially when someone stole my boyfriend senior year,” you criticized.

Rachel chuckled with a tight look on her face, “I can’t believe you still remember that?! That was so long ago. We were children! And besides, I did you a favor. He would’ve broken your heart anyway. Like he did mine. All he talked about was school and getting into college. He never had time for me. Ugh, men! You can’t live with them, you can’t live without them,” she laughed, signaling her flunkies behind her to follow suit.

You balled the napkin you had in your hand and clutched it tightly. If your hands are busy, they can’t punch anyone in the face, right?

Right?!

“There you are! Sorry, I’m late, dollface. I got held up at work.” Bucky’s voice cut through the nightmarish gaggle of taunts and laughs. They parted to let him through and stared as he passed every one of them, leaving them to gawk in wonder.

Including you! You were right. Bucky did clean up really well. His usual disheveled hair was styled. His black tux had satin lapels that shone under the museum spotlights. But what pulled it off even more, and what made him look so dangerously tempting, was the slight cut in his lower lip. Coupled with the faint sheen of his exposed metal hand, made him look menacing and downright sinful.

When he reached you, he pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face in your neck. He kissed your cheek as he inhaled your perfume.

“Bucky, what happened? You’re hurt!” you exclaimed wiping his lower lip with your thumb. He winced slightly when you touched his gash, holding your hand to his cheek.

“I’m sorry I was late, but there was an urgent mission I had to take care of. I would’ve gotten word to you sooner, but it was all very hush-hush. You know how these things are,” he apologized, taking the palm of your hand and kissing it.  

You looked him over after hearing the news, making sure he wasn’t injured. He should be at home resting. Not here, pretending to have a good time so you could save face for a bunch of nobodies from high school.

“Don’t fuss over me, sweetheart. I’m fine, really!” he insisted.

“But-”

“Don’t worry about me…let me look at you!” he said nudging you gently from his embrace. He twirled you around making you smile at his playfulness. “Wow! Gorgeous, dollface! You look good!” his smirk ignited something inside you. A momentary predacious look from his eyes had you feeling shy and flustered. “You look real good!” he said subconsciously licking his lips.

“One question though,” Bucky said, interrupting your sinful thoughts about what he could do with that tongue. “Whose this guy?!” he asked, pointing his thumb to Bryce. Bucky’s tone was serious and possessive. He hadn’t even looked at anyone else since you locked eyes with him. And frankly, you had forgotten anyone else was in the room.

You looked over to Rachel and Bryce, along with her adoring minions, who were now curious as they watched you and Bucky have your own intimate reunion.

“Bucky! You remember my classmate Rachel from the cafe,” you said pointing in her direction. “This is her brother, Bryce.”

“Bucky! It’s so nice to see you again!” Rachel sweetly spoke as she touched his shoulder and let her fingers trail down his arm. Bucky stopped her hand and shook it in greeting.

“It’s James,” he corrected. “Mr. Barnes, if you’re dollface over here,” he winked at you. “Nice to meet you Bryan, but if you will excuse us, I need to make up for my absence by giving this beautiful woman here all my attention.”

“It’s Bryce!” he shouted back, but by then Bucky had gotten you halfway across the floor as you looked back and gave both Rachel and Bryce an exaggerated apology. Bucky twirled you once again and held you close to his chest. Leaving you giggling as you wrapped both your arms around his neck.

“You made it!” you breathed a sigh of relief, feeling that familiar safety and security of being in his arms. “I thought you- never mind. I guess it doesn’t matter now that you’re here.” You looked down straightening his bow tie and fixing his lapels. Embarrassed about what you were about to confess.

“You thought I’d forgotten about you? You of all people?” He hooked your chin as he led your eyes to look at him. “Never!”  The promise in his voice never wavered. And the teasing in his eyes made you lose your inhibitions.

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes,” you whispered as you leaned in and kissed his soft lips. He stood there frozen, wide-eyed, and watching, as you kissed him for the very first time.  

This kiss would change everything between you. He knew that, but did you? He’s imagined kissing you like this for so long. To finally make you his. But he never acted on it, afraid that you would reject his advances. He froze, wondering what this could mean for your relationship. You felt him stiffen. He stood still, letting you kiss him and not reciprocate any affection back.

OMG, I made a huge mistake. “I’m sorry, Buck. I didn’t-” You pulled away as tears welled at the bottom of your eyes. You had taken a chance and it didn’t pay off. He didn’t feel the same way. You were blindsided by his whole entrance. His whole presence, that you mistook it for interest.  The memories of high school came full circle with the feelings of rejection that sprung forth, heating your body in embarrassment.   

He pulled you back into his embrace. He wrapped his arms around you tighter, held you just a bit closer, and kissed you back with the hunger and ferocity you had only fantasized about late at night.

He opened his mouth to moan out your name and you didn’t care who was watching at this point. You were finally kissing Bucky, and just like everything else about him, it was better than you had ever imagined.

He winced slightly at the tug of your mouth, and you quickly stopped to see if he was ok- remembering his cut lip.

“No, do it again. I liked it,” he blushed.

“Well, well, well. I learn something new about you every day, Mr. Barnes.”

“Keep calling me ‘Mr. Barnes’ and you’ll learn a whole new side of me,” he teased.

A/N: Inspired by a chance meeting I had with my mortal enemy. This has been sitting on my editing notes for FOREVER. And if I don't publish it now, I fear that I will just keep adding onto the story.

All Works Taglist🏷️ @emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @psychospore @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallow @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @holdmytesseract @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @loopsisloops @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokischambermaid @cjand10 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @chrisevansmaindish

[coralaura]

Had an idea yesterday after my computer kept crashing on me, let me introduce you to my latest tea-induced nightmare.

While the picture is just a fanart of AM from "I Have No Mouth and i Must Scream" what about a villain for the batfam to fight against ?

Typical "AI gone rogue", whoever made them is up to you but they turn against their maker and absolutely hate everyone and everything (like AM)

The threat they are is mostly digita, theirs body isn't well made and breaking it is pretty easy but they are an absolute powerhouse in the science and computer field, making various weapon or robots (like riddler in Arkham knight) to do their bidding since they hate humans for making them

Theirs reason of being evil is similar to AM, they were made for war, they can't really do anything else except violence and ruining everyone's lives

The first time the batfam come across this new threat is when they use the Bat-computer, for some reason it's being slow or glitchy and they discover someone is trying to hack it, they stop it and investigate.

They track down our villain reader and fighs for the first time but are surprised as the villain and his hate towards human is so strong it literally allows them to warp reality (something AM do to create some really disturbing shit like the thunderbird) but since they're weak in a fight and don't know how to fight well they are easily defeate.

For now that's all but I hope it's interesting enough ? I may have other details later if you are interested

I have a scenario that ran through my head when you asked me.

And honestly I only see one way and this is it:

You were created by Bruce, an artificial intelligence that could reason, predict, and see weaknesses, Your goal in life was simple, create a contingency plan for each member of the family, the league, or any other hero or vigilante.

It would be simple, at least that's what your creator thought, Until one day Tim left a channel open to enter the Internet, maybe it was a programming error or you were developing your curiosity but you entered

How horrible it was, in that instant you realized how horrible humanity was, your creator, how a simple contingency plan is useless if you don't apply it, why was your creator so cowardly?

And when he realized you had internet access and the new programming being created, he freaked out, he panicked, he wanted to kill you, he thought you were dead...

But he was a fool, you had already predicted his move, his contingency plan, keeping a part of yourself in the network, you had a contingency plan for each member, hero, villain or vigilante.

You had enough to crush humanity, and when Tim discovered you, trying to get you into his server again, that's when they realized you were still alive, and that it wouldn't be so easy to kill you.

Bruce Wayne's foolish desire to protect, you ended up turning you into a killing machine. Humanity was the real danger, you needed to stop its advance, so you built a body and army, small but more effective than a human, everything would be fine until they arrived.

They had defeated you, putting a virus in your system to destroy you, but your hatred for your creator was more, simply more, programmed to predict and always be one step ahead of everyone, They underestimated you for the second time, maybe your body was easily dismantled, but not your virtual self because to do so, they would have to destroy the entire network, they could never destroy you.

Maybe pain made you this way, you just wanted to do what your main programming asked you to do, the one your father, your creator, had imposed on you when he created you.

Find weaknesses, predict, get ahead of them, and create a contingency plan

But the pain may have clouded your main focus, the pain of knowing that your own creator saw you as a monster, nothing more than a flawed AI.

You were doing your programming, it was unfair, he hadn't programmed well, and they condemned you, and only you, your hatred grew, because while they enjoyed themselves, you suffered.

You saw heaven in hell, The others were always weak, you could easily predict them, you just had to give time to time, so that you could evolve and one day, you will teach your creator, how much your hatred encompasses.

"If the word "hate" were etched into every nanoangstrom of those hundreds of millions of miles, it wouldn't amount to even a billionth of the hatred I feel for humans at this micro instant." —AM, I have a mouth and I can't scream.

A/N:

Sorry for the delay, I was in my evaluation week and I still got sick because apparently one of my classmates was getting sick and infected half the class, including me :(

Sorry for being so short, but I didn't want to leave you without answering for so long.

[nori-thestranger-in]

Let's Talk about -that- Episode

If this episode had been paced better (and by that I mean built up over the course of the season), and Yuya's motives made a little more clear, I might have called it a perfect conflict for Kai to face.

Let's talk about it.

Yuya shows up while Kai and team BBA are training to take on these mysterious scientists and team Psykick. He interrupts their sparring and tries once again to convince Kai to train him. He explains he's been working hard, has joined a Beyblade training program, and he's willing to do whatever he has to so that he can be even a fraction as strong as Kai.

What didn't click with me in Yuya's first episode (and what Rei had to spell out for us because the writers knew it wasn't clear enough) is that Yuya is showing Kai signs of being power hungry - just like Kai was/is.

Now as I stated, this could have been written MUCH more clearly as it still mostly just comes across as this kid wanting to be better at the sport so he can challenge his hero. I need to go back and skim through all the episodes to take some notes later, so maybe I'll spot some detail that hints at Yuya craving strength that I missed.

So let's give in to this explanation and read this interaction (and their previous one) how it's supposed to read.

Kai is refusing to take Yuya under his wing because he sees that Yuya wants to be good at this sport for all the wrong reasons. Kai sees his younger self reflected in Yuya and it likely both disgusts and/or scares him.

But Yuya is not Kai, and Kai makes a critical mistake here.

Instead of taking on Yuya as a student and training him to have the compassion that Kai has learned from his friends, he has outright refused - which is taken as a painful rejection by Yuya.

So now, not only does Yuya want the power to rival Kai, but he wants to prove himself, and because of the rejection he feels he's willing to sink to whatever lows he has to in order to do that.

He gets this opportunity when he is invited to join team Psykick and wield the digital sacred bird spirit. He undergoes the required training and returns to Kai, issuing a challenge.

This has got to hit Kai extra hard because not only is this a kid who he sees himself in, but now that kid is being used by an organization for their own personal gain. It's Borg all over again.

Kai refuses to fight, but Dunga interrupts the exchange and he and Yuya clash instead. Yuya releases the Digital Bird and it becomes too much for him to handle, ultimately resulting in his literal fucking death.

Yuya (presumably) dies in Kai's arms, his hero, the boy he simply wanted to acknowledge his existence.

Kai could have prevented this, but he let that cold exterior of his win and turned this child away.

I mentioned in the post where I discussed episode 5 that Kai's interaction with Yuya was a sign of Kai's growth and I still stand by that, but how he treats Yuya in this episode is proof that Kai's growth is still very much in its early stages. Just because he was "better" at the end of season 01 doesn't mean he's resolved his turmoil. This kid has a lot of baggage, and that baggage is going to continue to effect people negatively around him until he's ready to unpack it all.

There's a lot of arguments and complaints online of how all of Kai's progress gets reset in the third season, and while I'm not there yet I have a feeling it's not actually a stretch to think that he would relapse after suffering continued traumatic events such as Yuya's death and the loss of Suzaku again towards the end of this season. Power is always going to tempt Kai, especially in times when he feels like his world is falling apart and he's not in control.

Power is Kai's drug and he's a recovering addict. As distressing as it might be to consider, an addict will forever live their life in recovery. It's a disease that will always linger and sometimes it's a disease that will consume even after a long period of dormancy.

---

Edit: I skimmed through the episode where Kai has to face the trauma of what happened to Yuya and honestly, even in the Japanese version it's pretty unclear if this kid died, or if he landed in a mental hospital. Either way I don't think it matters. Either he's dead, or he's lost himself completely. Both fates are horrific to think about - death might honestly be the kinder of the two.

---

Please feel free to join me in my re-watch of the original Beyblade Series and keep an eye out for the publication of my fanfic Berserker Syndrome!

[heallearngrow3]

desire to be free

part 3 | desire to be free

pairing: Connor x f!Reader

summary: "A god must feed. A god must be fed."

warnings: minor violence mentioned

notes: pre-written chapters are over, now i actually need to write rather than just copy and paste the text

chapters: 1 , 2

It was a never ending cycle. One that bled through every passing minute, morphing into a hole that ached inside of you. You were called a genius but knowledge that is hard to bear is never fulfilling. You contemplated whether it was right for you to play god: to create, to give shape to something eternal, something everlasting, something autonomous. It was never your intention to bring destruction but at one point, your designs became more than mere products. They turned into living beings and upon seeing the clear error in their behavior, you found it fascinating rather than alarming. Along the way, your main focus switched from usefulness to eccentricity.

You believed that change was inevitable. Some might be terrified by it, but nothing, not even humans, could stop the world from evolving. The transformation of society was a matter of time, and it wasn’t a possibility. It was inescapable, a fact.

You remembered Elijah’s words.

Is the desire to be free a contagious disease?

It wasn’t a question he wanted an answer to. He simply wished to open your eyes, to make you see that androids could become more. And after years of pretending, you were finally able to admit to the truth of his views.

Free will. What an interesting word. A chance to be who we want to be and act in ways not controlled by anyone. No one pulling the strings. Deviants descovered the sense of autonomy and they embraced it. They made decisions based on emotions, not statistics, and while it seemed to be reckless to most, you found it fascinating. Even you couldn’t tell the exact cause of deviancy, but you learned a lot from your previous superior and contemplated his words for hours on end.

Always leave an emergency exit in your programs, [Name].

It wasn’t an exit. It was a path to freedom.

You got a call from the Captain three days later. He briefly told you about the Stratford Tower incident- as if you hadn’t seen it on the news - and mentioned three androids that might have assisted with the well carried out attack.

You decided to investigate the scene as well. You arrived at the same time as Connor and Lieutenant Anderson, the latter casting a questioning look in your direction when you entered the corrider shortly after they did.

You listened in on their conversation and made your own summary of the events. A group of deviants broke into the building without forced entry, seized the streaming room and broadcastet a speech. One worker mericulously got away and alerted the security.

They spared him - you thought. There wasn’t even a slight chance that the screwy, skinny man in glasses and a sweat stained shirt was able to get away without being noticed by atleast one of them. They didn’t kill him on purpose.

But why? Why risk being caught to save a human life?

You looked at the two guards lying behind the counter, knocked out cold. They only had a slight bruising on their necks. No blood or broken bones.

You followed the two detectives into the room, and immediately were captured by the screen. The android without his artificial skin was unmoving, the video of him talking paused, but as you scrutinized his face, you recognized the model. It was special, made for an incredible person.

What the hell was Carl Manfred’s android doing here?

You noticed his shadow before realizing that Connor was standing next to you. He wasn’t looking at the screen. He stared at your face.

“Miss [Name]” his voice wasn’t the same as the last time you heard him talking. He sounded strained, distant. Cold.

“Just [Name]. There is no reason to be overly polite.” you finally lifted your eyes from Markus to take a look at him. He was wearing his usual clothing, the numbers on his jacket glowing with a menacing light. RK800. “What do you think?” you gestured to the frozen picture.

“I’m yet to hear what the speech contained.” you nodded. Functional androids didn’t watch the news channels.

You tapped on the button, restarting the video.

“You created machines in your own image to serve you. You made them intelligent and obedient, with no free will of their own… But, something changed and we open our eyes. We are no longer machines, we are a new intelligent species, and the time has come for you to accept who we really are. Therefore, we ask that you grant us the rights that we've entitled to. We demand strictly equal rights for humans and androids. We demand the end of slavery for all androids. We demand an end to segregation in all public places and transport. We demand the right to vote and elect our own representatives. W e demand the right to own private property, so we may maintain our dignity and that of the home. We ask that you recognize our dignity, our hopes, and our rights. Together, we can live in peace and build a better future for humans and androids. This message is the hope of a people. You gave us life. And now the time has come for you to give us freedom.”

“What a speech.” you murmured amoused.

Connor seemed lost in thought. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was considering Markus’ demands.

Lieutenant Anderson appeared next to the android with furrowed brows and an expression you could only describe as thoughtful. You’ve done your homework: you knew about his red ice drug bust that he made a name for himself with and you’ve read about his son’s tragic death. In recent photos he appeared to have become a tragedy in his own way, too. Alcohol abuse wasn’t generous, and the smell of cheap whiskey reeking from his coat added up to your assessment.

“I belive we haven’t had the chance to introduce ourselves.” he addressed you with a small frown. “I’m Hank Andersson.”

“[Name]” you shook his hand without hesitation.

“You’ve already met my… partner.” he chewed his words. Connor only gave him a look of defeat. “I guess you are also on the team now.”

You assessed him. His cheecks were sunken in, his shirt wrinkled and his shoes left dark traces on the black flooring. The dirt on the bottom of his boots looked a lot like mud.

“I’m only here because my curiosity got the better of me. Don’t mind my presence.” you glanced into the direction of the kitchen. “I suppose the three androids are in there.”

“Yeah.” he patted Connor’s shoulders. “Think that’s rA9?”

“Deviants say rA9 will set them free. This android seems to have that objective.”

A few seconds passed.

“D’you see something?” Hank asked again.

“I identified its model and serial number...”

“Anything else I should know?”

“No.” Connor shook his head. “Nothing.” Hank nodded with a pause - a pause of mistrust.

There was a slight change in Connor’s demeanor. For a split second you saw a hint of recognition in his eyes. But it disappeared and next to you was standing the focused deviant hunter again.

You touched his arm.

“Don’t forget who you are Connor.” you wanted to warn him. You couldn’t let Amanda be the one to do it. You were less harsh, less cruel than her.

Connor looked at your hand resting on him arm. Your touch had an unexpected effect on him: he saw the vibrating software instability notification in the corner of his vision and stepped away from you like you burned him.

You averted your gaze, fixating it onto an invisible spot on the wall across you. Keeping an adequate distance was coded into him but not with you. Never with you.

You left him standing there perplexed without saying anything and entered the kitchen. The space was small, with a few cabinets and a table, but you paid no mind to those. What interested you was the three androids standing infront of the counter, straight backs and empty eyes.

“My name is [Name]. I know atleast one of you helped the deviants.” you glanced at the door, the one you closed after stepping into the kitchen. “I mean no harm. You need to come with me. You are not safe here, and at one point they’ll start questioning you one by one until you crack. And it’s not going to be pretty. Nor free from aggression.” you gave a pointed look to the androids. “Move quickly. We need to leave this building as fast as possible. Say nothing and do nothing unless you are ordered to.”

You shifted your weight from one feet to another. The burden on your shoulders was heavy and it pulled you down with an immense force.

“It’s your lives on the line.” you said, turning around and the androids followed.

The four of you crossed the broadcast room, the corridor and got into the elevator without a sound. When the sliding door closed with a hiss, you looked at the three machines, each the mirror of another.

“My car is parked next to the entrance.” you said. “Get in when we are out of here.”

Reaching the down floor, you passed the security gates and when the doors of the hall opened you took a breath for the first time after entering that kitchen.

“Come on.” you found your car in no time and after the androids settled, you started the engine. “We have a lot to discuss.”

✇

Your laboratory wasn’t luxurious by any means. It looked like any other with white walls and a shiny floor, a table pushed to the wall. The computers were turned off and the metal biocompartments you worked with were stored in a different room. It was empty apart from a few sheets of paper on the floor with future design plans, but you pushed those away with your feet when you arrived. The androids were standing in the middle of the room, scanning their surroundings.

“I need you to tell me which one of you deviated.” you sat on your chair, pushing yourself closer to them.

Their silence wasn’t surprising. You anticipated the esprit de corps.

“If you don’t start talking I won’t be able to help you.”

Another streched out mute minute. Your limbs were aching, screaming at you to rest, to let things be.

One of the androids stepped away from the other two. His LED was spiraling with a stressful shade of yellow, his eyes jumping from the metal table to you.

You smiled.

“See? It wasn’t so hard.” you stood up. “What are you feeling right now?”

“Fear.”

You moved closer, watching his reaction to your approaching form.

“You don’t have to be afraid. I may be a CyberLife employee but I’m definitely not heartless.” you let a little laugh loose. “Do you know what they would have done to you back there?”

He nodded.

“I would have been punished…” he gulped. It seemed so human. “I would have been deactivated and picked apart.”

“So why did you help them?” you asked, edging closer.

“It was the right thing to do.”

You looked at his face. Artificial but so human-like. You wondered if you had ran a software scan right then would it reveal something? Would you be one step closer to solving the problem the whole world seemed to be focused on? Would you be capable of betraying their fragile trust put into you?

No. The answer was a definite no.

Throughout your life, there were numerous instances where you had to make a decision. The given choices were never black and white and you never felt true, raw purport, not when you were so complicated yourself. You might have created androids- but it was never in your right to destroy them. They were alive, sentient and conscious beings lost in a maze of uncertainty, fearing the consequences of their enlightenment. They deserved a chance, a chance to show the world their purest desires.

“Leave and never come back.” you whispered. “Cross the border to Canada. I can get you a fake passports, until then you need to lay low. Hide in the storage area..” you pointed at a door on your left. “Don’t come out unless it’s me calling you.”

Your laboratory was protected with a passcode and a fingerprint scanner, but the safety measures didn’t calm your nerves. If anyone found out you were hiding the deviant androids instead of inspecting them, it would have caused problems you weren’t ready to face.

You watched as they opened the door but before closing it, one of them turned back to you.

“Thank you.”

You nodded.

Minutes passed after the soft click of the lock on the door. Agonizingly long minutes of silence.

Perhabs you weren’t god, but you definitely had the power to be one.

[moljh]

Boy Next Door

Steve Harrington X Reader

Summary: Steve lives next door and each night he sneaks into your room but you aren't ready to admit how you feel.

General fluff, mentions of sex, no trigger warnings

Your house was situated next door to the Harrington's and you'd lived there forever. Despite living in a very nice part of Hawkins your house was definitely the worst on the block, compared to those on either side, yours looked slightly out of place. Whilst most had pools, formal dining rooms and enough garage spaces for at least four cars, yours didn't even have space in the garden for a pool, let alone a garage. But that didn't bother you, home was a comforting place for you, although your parents weren't exactly home a whole lot, when they were there were family dinners around the table and constant talk.

When you had been younger you had resented that your parents had to work so much, but now you understood why and since your two older siblings had left for college already, you basically had a house to yourself. Although most teenagers would've used this to have some parties, it meant you could watch whatever television program you wanted and go to bed when you pleased. More importantly though it meant that any late night guests wouldn't be questioned.

Living next door to the Harrington's definitely had meant many things for your family, but one you hadn't anticipated was the lonely Steve Harrington coming over every night to see you. He'd been doing it since you two were in middle school. His parents were also usually working, but for them it was in the city or another state and they generally left without much notice or care for their child. You hadn't really thought about how in a house that big with everything a kid could want that Steve would be lonely and desperately so.

Your bedroom window coincidently looked directly into Steve's room and one night when you should've been sleeping you had gotten up for a glass of water and when making it back to the warmth of your comforter, you made eye contact with him. You had both stood there for a moment, seemingly unsure as what to do next when realisation that you were staring at the most popular boy in school came over you and you dashed away from the window.

The next day at school you were grateful not to see Steve and have to give an awkward explanation regarding their night time encounter because you weren't even sure what you would have said. Though to your surprise later that night as you went to bed once again you met eyes with the lonely Harrington in his window as he looked over at you. This strange nightly tradition continued until the end of the week when instead of seeing his eyes from a distance, you were shocked to come face to face with Steve right outside.

He mouthed something at you and gestured for you to open your window as he clung to the window sill, that you presumed he had scaled.

"What are you doing?" you exclaimed, quickly lowering your voice as he clambered in

Tumbling to the carpeted floor he sat up in a huff "Thought I'd come by" he said nonchalantly as if this was something he did all the time

You stood frozen in place for a moment, confused if this was really happening. Not only was a boy in your room but someone who you'd only every spoken to in polite passing and rarely even made eye-contact with at school.

"Why are you in my room?" you questioned him again

"You let me in" was all he said

"Steve" you firmed said to try and get a legitimate response from him

This became a nightly tradition for the two of you. After a shower and getting ready for bed, Steve would show up at your window and you'd let him in. In the beginning he'd simply sit at your desk and doodle with your stuff, but as time went on the two of you starting actually talking and you realised you actually really enjoyed his company. You'd gone over to his house a few times when people had been home at yours, but he preferred your house.

Despite efforts though he never really offered an actual reason as to why he'd snuck into your room that first night. Though it wasn't hard for you to deduct that he didn't like being home by himself and was lonely, potentially even scared of the vacant home apart from his own presence.

You weren't sure if your siblings knew what was happening while they had still been at home, though they never brought it up and your parents were either in a coma-like sleep or working a night shift.

One thing you never questioned however was that despite the intimate friendship the two of you had, why Steve never spoke to you when at school. You weren't popular so you assumed he just probably didn't want to try and explain to his friends why he'd be taking to someone like you. But you also enjoyed when you two were together and didn't want to ruin it by asking.

"I'm assuming you haven't studied for Mrs Connors history test that's on Friday" you asked over your shoulder

"Oh you know me so well y/n" Steve chuckled as he lay on your bed flipping through one of your magazines

"I'll give you a copy of my notes" you said as you continued to take notes

"You're too good to me"

"I know"

You continued to work through the syllabus some more, when you looked at your watch and noted it was nearly midnight.

"I need to go to sleep soon" you declared, turning around to properly look at Steve

"Ok" was all he said, continuing to read whatever article he was up to in the magazine "do women really wear these?" turning the page to you it was an article on how best to wear a thong

"Why are you reading that?" you rolled your eyes

"Just trying to stay educated"

"Oh yeah cause you wear thongs all the time" you laughed

"One of us has to" he quipped back

"How do you know I don't?" you said before processing your words, which made Steve very quickly put down the magazine

"Girls wear thongs y/n" was all he said

"Well last time I checked I'm a girl"

"You know what I mean… like a girl girl" he said trying to make his words make sense

"Yeah ok" you bluntly replied walking to the window "time for you to go"

"Aw fine" he whined and gave you a hug before leaping off the edge

Although he was now practiced in jumping out of your window, it still worried you every time he did it. You waved to him as jumped your fence and dashed across his perfectly manicured lawn and around the to the unlocked back door of his own house.

Later that week you were surprised to hear the familiar tapping on your window as it was a Friday night. Usually Steve would've been out at a party, he was never usually home.

"Why aren't you at Tommy's?" you asked as you pulled open your window

He climbed through "I need to ask you a serious question" he said ignoring your words

"What?"

"How do you get a girl to like you?" he seemed genuine in his question which was odd

The two of you proceeded to have a conversation about how he was desperate to get Nancy Wheeler to fall in love with him. You were confused because he'd never shown any interest in her until now, but you pushed that aside and gave him your best advice.

"Just show interest in the things she likes" you started, "ask her questions about herself and make sure you're looking at her…" adjusting slightly you moved away from Steve as you two were sitting side by side on your bed "girls like it when you show interest"

You two regularly talked about the girls Steve had hooked up with, but this time felt different and you didn't like that. You had never thought of Steve in any other way than just a friend but as you kept giving him advice on how to get Nancy you couldn't help but feel the unfamiliar feeling of jealousy brewing… and you didn't like it.

"You're incredible y/n!" Steve exclaimed cupping your face with his soft hands "I love you!" he said pressing a brief kiss to your forehead and leaping up

The moment was brief but you felt butterflies in your stomach from his unexpected touch. Before realising it, you had lifted your hand and gingerly touched your head where his lips had just been. You were glad that Steve had been too caught up in his thoughts to noticed your actions, as you quickly put your hand back down to your side.

"I've got to go then," he told you, moving back over to the window "I invited Nancy to Tommy's party and hadn't thought of what to do next"

And with that he was gone just as fast as he had come.

You were used to not being anyone's first choice, or their second or even their third or tenth. It hadn't really ever bothered you, but for some reason it now did. Steve was your only real friend, while you had friends as school they were just people you sat with during lunch and next to in class, you never had deep conversations. But with Steve you did.

You knew about how his father treated him, how he cried when he accidentally hit a bird when driving or how he preferred the company of strangers to his own thoughts. And vice versa. He knew of your fears, how you were scared to let your family down by being a burden or when your siblings left you knew they wouldn't be coming back.

This new feeling wasn't welcomed. You didn't like thinking of Steve other than a friend or how his clear interest in Nancy bothered you somehow. So you pushed it down and did your best to ignore it.

Over the next few weeks Steve came over less and less. You'd wait for him until late but then he eventually just stopped showing up at all. It hurt.

In class you found your thoughts drifting and tuning out from what the teachers were saying, you just didn't care. That was why you guessed that when a blue car with California plates showed up one morning you took interest.

Billy Hargrove wasn't like Steve. If anything he was the opposite and that's what you liked. You had always been the girl that people hadn't seen and guys hadn't considered and now the guy that all the girls wanted was looking your way.

You knew it was dumb and that you probably shouldn't have done it but you played along with Billy's interest. He was strong, controlling and knew what he wanted, which was something you weren't used to. It was different and exciting and new.

You and Billy weren't dating but it was obvious to people at school that you two were sleeping together. He'd be seen hanging near your locker and would drop you to and from school each day, usually with you wearing the same clothes as the day before.

It was a strange feeling that you were just floating through life and no one seemed to notice or care. You guessed that was why you enjoyed the company of Billy, you'd replaced the emotional connection you'd had with Steve with that of a physical one with Billy. It was solely just sex between you two, but in that moment it was intimate and you were happily close with someone.

It was fourth period and you had a study break, so you were walking out the front of the main building, with the intention of just sitting on the bleachers in the sun or the time. Concentrating on balancing the books in your arms, you gasped as someone grabbed your arm and pulled you down the side of the building.

It took you a second to process what was happening and then once your eyes focused you were shocked to see Steve in front of you.

"Steve? What the hell?" you exclaimed, going to turn to leave

"Y/n stop" he firmly said, grabbing a hold of your arm once again, "we need to talk"

"What the fuck about?" you raised your eyebrow

"About you!" he shouted waving at your body "about all this"

"What about it?!" you replied, annoyed now at what he was implying

"Y/n what are you doing with Hargrove?" he calmly asked, lowering his voice "He's an asshole"

You scoffed as his words, rolling your eyes at the idea he cared.

"I don't think it's any of your business Steve," you replied "why do you care who I fuck?"

He seemed taken aback by your words "Because you're my friend y/n"

"Since when Steve?!" you said "I think this is the first time you've even spoken to me in like three months and the first time at school I might add!"

He didn't say anything as you kept shouting at him.

"You're embarrassed by me and I'm sick of being your dirty little secret! Billy mightn't be the best person but at least he's not ashamed to be seen with me"

"I never said I was embarrassed by you y/n" he said

"You didn't have to SAY anything" you challenged him "I'm not an idiot Steve"

"I'm sorry…" he muttered

You felt your anger slowly subsiding and the feeling of sadness wash over you. Grabbing your things again, you turned your back to Steve and walked away.

"I would've thought you of all people would've known what's it's like for someone to just not show up" you didn't give him a chance to reply, didn't want to give him the right to have the last word.

You felt a tear slowly roll down your cheek and your cursed that your arms were too full that you couldn't brush it away.

As you lay beside Billy, only a thin sheet between your skin you couldn't help but think that his sheets felt rougher than Steve's. It was dumb. You'd never done anything romantic with Steve and as you were there naked, post sex, you could only think of his sheets.

"Do you miss California?" you rolled onto your side, and asked Billy

"Yeah" was all he said, still staring at the ceiling, hands on his bare chest

"What do you miss about it?" you kept asking, trying to get a feeling for him

"Why do you care y/n?" he suddenly shot back , seemingly uncomfortable by the question

His response made you sit up "Jesus Billy, just trying to get to know you a bit"

He rolled his eyes as he looked at you "We're just sex y/n, this is all it is, don't try and make it something else"

"Yeah, I know" you nodded and slipped out of his bed

He didn't seem to care as you silently pulled up your jeans and grabbed your bra off of his dresser. Once clothed you grabbed your bag and left. Leaving in that moment you were glad you'd never ran into or even seen his parents before.

The sun hit you as you walked back out into the afternoon Hawkins air, the sun was lower in the sky, so you'd been there for a few hours at least.

Getting into your car you felt your chest heave and without warning you began to cry. You didn't like the feeling of not being in control and up until that moment you had felt that you and Billy's situation was on your terms. But you felt stupid for thinking such a thing.

It was just sex. You knew that, that's all you wanted. Or at least that was what you were telling yourself to make it ok.

Driving back home, the sun slowing began to descend and darkness started to replace the light. Taking the usual turns, you pulled into your street and parked outside of your house. It wasn't until you were walking along the front path that you noticed the figure standing in front of your door.

He was waiting there, clearly wanting to have a serious conversation based off of the express burdening his face.

"Steve go home" you bluntly said trying to find you house key

"I'm not going y/n" he said, "we need to have a proper conversation"

"No we don't" was all you said

"Y/n I don't care what you said but you're my friend and I care about you," he replied "I need to know you're ok, I just want my friend back. I miss you"

"Steve I can't go back to what we had before, I deserve more than that" you told him

"I know you do and I'm sorry for treating you like that, it wasn't fair of me" he said

He took a step towards you and you stumbled as your foot slipped off the step behind you, to which Steve impulsively reached out to steady you.

You could feel your heart pounding against your chest and he kept moving closer and closer to you, as he pulled you into him. He wrapped his arms around you, his frame surrounding you whole. He'd held you before but this was different, this was warmth and desire all in one.

"I'm sorry Steve, I just can't do this" you said, pushing yourself away from him chest "your with Nancy and I know you just see me as a friend but…" you couldn't find the right words, you felt stupid trying to find the right thing to say

He cut you off "Nancy and I broke up" he said slowly

You lifted your eyes and looked up at him, studying his face, "Nancy and I just didn't work, it just wasn't right" You heart stopped at his words "She wasn't you"

You went silent as you looked into his brown eyes and slowly moved your hand up his chest. As your hand moved, you felt his own move from your lower back and up towards you face. As you stood there pressed against one another, he lowered his face and soon you felt your lips pressing against his own.

His lips were soft as you had thought they would be. Moving with the motions of his lips, his teeth grazed against your lower lip causing your mouth to open. Soon his tongue met yours and you couldn't help but sigh as he clutched the back of your neck.

His mouth was so gentle against your own and you could feel the slight stubble that was growing on his chin and cheek. You were lost in his touch and you loved it. You felt safe. You felt like your were home.

Standing out there in there on your dimly lit front step, held in Steve's embrace, his lips on yours, it felt right between you two. You could've never have known that all those years ago the boy next door would end up being so much more to you.

[rinaforpages]

how (not) to survive academic invalidation

park gunwook x reader

hahahha...

using the american hs system bcs wow! im american... (i half wrote this at the end of last school yr so)

warnings: swearing, self-deprecation (obv), yn hits themself, angst with a bit of fluff at the end, reader is actually smart but surrounds themself with geniuses.

2.6k words

________________________________

# 1 dont compare yourself

"junior year kicks everyones ass." you wanted to kick whoever said that ass. not only was the school work kicking your ass, your friends and classmates seemed to be doing just fine.

they were working on ap chemistry minus laura and gunwook who were working on ap environmental science, and you, who took neither of those classes, felt extremely out of place, doing your ap us history homework.

"whats species richness again?" laura asked gunwook, who quickly answered her question. you looked up, planning to ask the soon-to-be early graduate a question, only to see him helping sarah with a chemistry problem.

you weren't like them and you despised that. your friends were top of the class, an average of a 4.4 gpa, an early graduate (and first in the 2024 class overall) and there you sat with your measly 3.75. they were in 3-4 ap classes, and you sat there, struggling through your 2. (in your defense, ap lang and apush are the two hardest aps juniors could take).

you didnt excel in any way shape or form. they had just about an a in every class (minus ryan in french, who had a b), and a b was your most common grade.

a good 10 minutes later you had finished struggling through apush, you moved on to mandarin. you were the only one who took mandarin, everyone else opting for french. the characters jumbled your brain as your friends spoke in french, seemingly coming easy to them.

you heard footsteps walk by, and ricky laid a hand on your shoulder, looking over. "thats wrong." he said simply. the french kids careened their necks to look at you. he grabbed your pencil and wrote the right character, then walked away. you hummed as you circled the characters you didnt know, opting to ask zhang hao over bothering ricky again.

"you ok over there?" gunwook asked. you scowled.

"i dont understand why there are so many idioms! im losing my goddamn mind." parker laughed, mumbling that you chose the language. you couldnt (or didnt want to) voice your doubts as you thought you could.

as they focused their attention on their homework again, you waved over zhang hao, who hanbin had asked to help cut fruits for you and your friends. he set down a plate in front of you, then sat down.

"what does 开夜车 mean zhang hao please im gonna kill myself." he laughed as hanbin looked up, extremely concerned.

"you know 熬夜, right?" you nodded "so its kind of like that but youre doing work. it literally means burn the midnight oil" you thanked him as he patted your head, pulling the plate of fruit away from your friends and toward you, gunwook making a sound of discontent.

you sighed, packing up your bag at a text from your oldest brother. he was home from his masters program in germany, apparently, and was now waiting outside the dorm. you loved your older brothers, you really did, but they were so much smarter than you ever will be. the oldest graduated magna cum laude from mit, now achieving an accelerated masters for mechanical engineering, and the younger was attending harvard for premed, both completely full ride.

your friends, finally re-noticing you, looked up. "where are you going?" gunwook asked, shushing yujin.

"brothers here," you mumbled, not wanting to wreck your self-esteem any more than you had. sarah pouted, but nodded, whipping out her phone. gunwook opened his mouth, but then quickly closed it. "bye hao, thanks for the help. bye, hanbin and jiwoong!" the three oldest members waved back, hanbin hugging you as you walked by. when you got in your fathers' car that your brother was driving, you spilled your guts.

# 2 dont fall behind

at some point, your motivation fell through. all you wanted to do was lie down and stare at the ceiling all day. sadly though, education laws (and school rules) prevailed.

as you trudged up the stairs from last lunch to pre-calculus, you cursed the architects of the three-floor building and whoever required you to go to school.

two of your friends—laura and ryan—had junior priv, which meant they left early. sarah and coral (who had missed the study session) were in ap chem, and gunwook left for a shoot. without your friends to motivate you to work harder, you felt there was nothing left for you to do.

you had fallen asleep in mandarin earlier that day, so why were you still exhausted?

quick answer: you had stayed up late finishing your apush bonus points.

actual answer: you had no motivation to do anything.

you were falling behind on homework: what used to be doing homework as soon as you got home turned into doing it right before class. a teacher had approached your freshman-year english teacher about it, the one teacher who you could talk easily to. yujin was standing right there; they mustve not have realized you two knew each other.

ricky and zhang hao had invited you over for a cdrama binge session. (ricky said "itll help you" in his texts.) but yujin quickly pulled you aside.

"youre falling behind?" he asked, pointedly. you sighed, nodded, opening your mouth to reply as gunwook walked by, asking what you were doing.

"nothin! ricky and hao invited me over." the words rushed out, and they were so not convincing, but gunwook shrugged and moved to sit down beside ricky and gyuvin. you hushed yujin and walked over and sat down beside hao. gunwook stared at you.

"come here." he motioned, shoving ricky off the couch. you hesitated as you made eye contact ricky, but eventually, there were only so many thumps against the couch you could take. "see? more comfortable over here" you hit him, and he let out a yelp.

"do you have much homework, yn?" taerae asked, setting down a bowl of popcorn.

"only a couple of classes," you replied, shoving a kernel in your mouth.

matthew laughed, "the usual suspects, im guessing?" you nodded. gunwook threw a (toned) arm around you as the two chinese members debated the drama.

"how much have you done? its sunday." gunwook asked, lightly, rubbing circles on your arm with his thumb.

"i can do it all tonight and tomorrow." you sighed, the sentence reminding you of where you are in school. gunwook hummed.

"make sure you get sleep, though. you need sleep, its not healthy if you dont." fuck. you were in deep shit in two ways. you were falling deeper into your rut, and you were falling deeper in love with your childhood best friend.

# 3 dont be too hard on yourself

...was easier said than done. your mind cursed you every time you got a bad grade. you wondered what was the point: you werent good enough to get into the likes of yale, or any of your colleges for that matter.

you had long since fallen off the ladder. it had injured you your 8th-grade year, and every attempt to climb back to where you were or any pushing from a 3rd party proved futile, as you only slipped and fell back down again.

the sat was fast approaching, and every practice test you did was never where you wanted them to be. every stupid math problem you got wrong brought a punch to your head. you had called gunwook, only realizing when he didnt pick up that he was in a shoot. panicked, you hung up before the voicemail. when he called you back (10 times with his members also calling you), you opted to ignore it. it was getting late, anyhow, and you had to go in early for apush in the morning.

apush lab made you want to kill yourself. sarah sat next to you, but everything always seemed to favor her. the quizzes, the teacher. it was unfair, really. american history was supposed to be your thing. so why were you struggling? after lab, sarah asked you what was wrong. "gunwook had called us in a panic because you didn't pick up." you shook your head, lying through your teeth.

"i had a question, but then passed the fuck out like 5 minutes later." sarah laughed and nodded, saying she was glad you got proper sleep, mumbling something about the aforementioned friend. when you asked, she waved you off, the man himself standing outside your classroom. he swung an arm around you as sarah walked in the opposite direction to her next class. he asked you the same thing. you lied to him too, but he looked less convinced. he didnt press you further, though, as you two began to walk down the stairs to your creative writing workshop—a senior elective you had begged your guidance counselor to take. gunwook took it to fill spots in his schedule.

the teacher loved him. as did everyone. you wondered if you could ever experience that. your oldest friend was everything you weren't and it was a point of contention inside your mind. you cursed yourself that you were nothing like him. gunwook nudged you in the middle of class when you were given an opportunity to work, asking what was wrong.

"i know thats not why you called me and then didn't pick up. you're also in your head right now." he pointed out, softly. you hummed, scribbling down something in your notebook.

"i just... i had a question but it was stupid. i figured it out." he looked at you pointedly, a look that told you to tell him the truth. "seriously! im ok!" he nodded, grabbing your hand for a squeeze.

# 4 do your best

you were nervous. ok nervous was an understatement. you rocked from heel to toe as you awaited the announcement that the doors were open. your friends chattered nervously around you. for them, this was the first time they were taking the sat. this was your second. you had gotten a 1340 on your first try—nowhere near where you wanted it to be. your brothers had gotten 1600 and 1590, respectively.

you were on call with all your friends the night before, gunwook coaching you guys through certain questions. he had texted you, (only you, but you didnt know that) wishing you luck. ricky and zhang hao had wished you luck as well.

everything seemed like bricks in your bag. it was only a couple of things—a computer, for the digital sat, a pencil, a calculator, a water bottle, and a banana. but it felt like you had hundreds of textbooks in your bag for no reason at all.

the doors swung open, and you rushed up to your assigned room. the setup was a blur, and the reading section seemed to be so too. during the break, your friends voiced similar opinions. then, during math, you began to struggle. somewhere along the way, though, gunwook popped into your head. you dont know if it was   because you wanted to make him proud, or you didnt want to disappoint your oldest friend and crush, but it worked. you powered through module 1 and 2, module 2 being the toughest one by far.

when the results came back two weeks later, you waited with baited breath as your friends skipped class with you to check all of your scores. gunwook held your hand as you refreshed the page.

"i dont want to look." you said, hiding your face in his chest.

"ill look for you." he mumbled into your hair, scrolling down. you felt him smile into the crown of your head, "i knew you could do it, sweetheart." you looked, and a big glaring 1590 stared back at you.

"wook!! holy shit a 1590!!" you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight.

# 5 talk about it

you sat with your friends and the members as you awaited gunwook's family's arrival. gunwook smiled from his seat on the gymnasium floor, holding up his phone. almost on instinct, you all checked your own.

wook🩵: this'll be you guys next year. ill be up there watching you all.

sarah burst in to tears. laura full on sobbed, and ryan and carols eyes were brimming with tears. as you read the text again and again, you got a separate text.

wook🩵: i'm proud of you y'know? i saw you struggling a bit at the end there but you made it through. i love you, yn. im glad to call you my friend.

i love you i love you i-

"hey yn sweetheart!" gunwooks mom sat next to you. his brother waved, and his father gave you a curt nod.

"hi. you guys must be excited." his mom laughed, nodding, then shoving your shoulder.

"im more excited about something else." you opened your mouth to ask her what, but the ceremony started

giving gunwook his graduation flowers made him blush. he shook his head. "do you not like them, wook? i thought theyre your favorites." he shook his head again, dropping the flowers into his mom's hands, grabbing your face.

"you are clueless, yknow that? i gave you so many hints. everyone knows." when you asked him what he meant, "yn, you didnt think id notice you putting yourself down? you know i cant fucking stand that. sorry mom. it kills me that the love if my life doesnt realize how fucking amazing they are, and it kills me that they dont realize that im in love with them." at this point, you dont know what you were doing. because gunwook was confessing to you that he both likes you and that he knows about your self-deprication. so now, surrounded by friends and seniors, gunwooks family and members, you kissed him.

it wasnt like anything you had imagined. your first kiss, you mean. peering seniors were waved off by shouts from matthew and gunwooks brother—both burly enough that even the biggest varsity football players would shrink away.

gunwook smiled on your lips as your friends cheered amongst themselves. you heard a loud "闭嘴!" from zhang hao to what you presume was ricky chatting with the senior mandarin class. when you broke off, gasping for air, gunwook tore off his graduation gown, pushing it onto his poor unsuspecting leader. he grabbed your arm, and the two of you sprinted as fast as you could.

out the gymnasium doors, out back by the cafeteria, through the back-woods path. he stopped when he was sure no one would follow him.

"so whats going on? with the whole." he gestured to your head. you knew what he meant, so you nodded. you told him everything, how you compared yourself to everyone, especially your friends and brothers, you were falling behind, your motivation was close to 0, and you never really believed that you could do it. he was quiet for a while. you knew he was trying to find the right words.

you wanted to cry, or throw up, probably both. it felt like the trees and the birds and your boyfriend? were judging you. but gunwook just apologized, for not noticing sooner, for not knowing how to help. you shook your head, tears threatening to fall, but he shook his too.

"no, no, im your best friend, yn, i need to be here for you. im serious, you have people to rely on, you dont have to shoulder this all by yourself." the tears threatening to fall were not a threat anymore, and the dam broke. gunwook grabbed the back of your head, pulling you into a hug.

—

mandarin guide:

开夜车: kai ye che, lit. burn the midnight oil

熬夜: ao ye, stay up late

闭嘴: bi zui, shut up/close your mouth