#that's what they said right moving most of the team to other projects

[fratttymatty]

Roots Changed

(All characters are 18+)

Ryan Thornton had always been the quiet, bookish kid. At 18, he was still the same shy, nerdy teenager who spent most of his time buried in science fiction novels, comic books, and the occasional video game. Ryan had come to terms with his place in life: an outsider in high school, an openly gay teen with few friends and even fewer social opportunities. His world was small but comfortable, a safe little bubble in the predominantly white suburb of San Diego where he’d lived his whole life.

But when his mom got a new job and the family moved across the city to a much more diverse, predominantly Latino neighborhood, Ryan didn’t know what to expect. The change was jarring. The new school was like nothing he’d known — crowded, full of energy, and with a culture that felt loud and foreign. The kids here were different, the language they spoke, the way they dressed, the confidence they carried — it was all so much more alive than what Ryan was used to.

In the first few days, Ryan stayed under the radar. He was determined to finish high school without any drama, just getting through the final year before heading to college. But that plan quickly unraveled when a group of the popular kids — the jocks and cheerleaders — took notice of him.

At first, he didn’t think much of it. He tried to keep his head down, but he couldn’t ignore the whispers in the halls, the way people looked at him — the way they sized him up. His pale skin, messy blond hair, awkward stance — all of it screamed “outsider.” It didn’t help that Ryan was the only openly gay kid in the school, and he often felt like an alien in the sea of confident, straight students.

One afternoon, during lunch, the inevitable happened. He was sitting alone at a table when Luis, the captain of the football team, and Sofia, the head cheerleader, approached him with their usual entourage. They towered over him, their presence intimidating, but Ryan couldn’t find the words to excuse himself.

Luis looked down at him, a smug grin on his face. “Hey, you’re the new guy, right?”

Ryan swallowed hard. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“You don’t really fit in here, huh?” Sofia’s voice wasn’t unkind, but it was sharp. She appraised him like a project. “You’re a little too... quiet for this place. Too nerdy.”

Ryan felt his face flush. He had been used to this kind of thing before, but not quite like this. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wanting to disappear.

Luis smirked. “Well, we can help with that. Make you more... like us.” He exchanged a quick glance with Sofia, who gave a small nod.

“I don’t really—” Ryan began to protest, but before he could finish his sentence, they grabbed him by the arms. He struggled, but the group was too strong. Their laughter was loud and mocking, echoing in his ears as they pulled him away from the lunch table, past the curious eyes of the other students, and out to the school parking lot.

“What the hell is going on?” Ryan managed to say, panic setting in as they shoved him into the back of a van.

“We’re gonna make you one of us, gringo,” Luis said, the edge to his voice unmistakable.

Ryan’s heart pounded as the van started moving. “What are you doing? Let me out of here!” But the more he shouted, the less anyone seemed to care. They ignored him, speaking in rapid Spanish, laughing, joking, as if they’d done this before.

The van came to a stop in a neighborhood unfamiliar to Ryan, and they led him into a house that felt more like a base of operations than a home. An older man with tattoos covering his arms stood waiting for them, his expression serious, as though this was just another job.

“Sit,” the man said, gesturing toward a chair in the middle of the room. “We’ve got work to do.”

Ryan’s heart raced in his chest, but he was powerless to fight back. They tied him down, but it wasn’t painful; it was more like they were preparing him for something. The man — who spoke little — went to work, using strange tools and substances on him, altering his appearance in ways that made Ryan’s head spin. His skin, once pale and freckled, slowly darkened, turning a rich olive tone. His features shifted subtly — his jawline more defined, his nose more pronounced. But it wasn’t just his skin that changed.

The most dramatic transformation happened to his hair. Ryan’s once-messy, light brown curls were smoothed out, darkening into a deep, glossy brown. They styled it into a perfectly straight, sharp middle part. It was perfect, almost too perfect. His hair, which had always been unruly, now lay in neat, controlled waves on either side of his head, framing his face in a way that made him look... different.

When the process was finished, they released him from the chair, and Ryan was led to a mirror. He barely recognized the person staring back at him. The face was familiar, but the features were sharper, darker. His hair — sleek and controlled — was no longer his own. The new, confident posture, the athletic build, the deep brown eyes looking back at him — it was like he was staring at someone else.

Luis stood behind him, clapping him on the back with a grin. “Welcome to the team, hermano,” he said, his voice low and proud.

Ryan — or whatever was left of him — looked at himself in the mirror. The old Ryan Thornton was gone, replaced by someone else. Someone new. Someone who looked like he could be a football player. Someone who looked like he belonged here, in this world.

Luis wasn’t finished. “You’re Mateo Hernandez now. We’re not calling you Ryan anymore. You’re one of us, hermano.”

Mateo Hernandez. The name felt strange at first, foreign even, but when he said it aloud, it felt right, like it had always been his. Mateo felt stronger, more confident. He felt like someone who had a place in the world — a world where people like him didn’t get pushed around, a world where his old self didn’t matter.

Over the next few days, Mateo settled into his new life with surprising ease. His old identity, his old life as Ryan Thornton, began to fade. The change was too thorough. The way he spoke was different now. His accent was smoother, more natural, the slang coming to him effortlessly. His new friends, the jocks, the cheerleaders, they accepted him without hesitation. He was one of them now, and they treated him like family.

It didn’t take long before Mateo found himself walking the halls of his new high school with the same confident swagger as Luis or any of the other jocks. He laughed, joked, and participated in everything — the football games, the parties, the casual flirting with the girls in his classes. It all felt so easy, so right. The old Mateo, the quiet, awkward kid who once spent his days hiding in the library, was gone.

Mateo Hernandez was a high school jock. He was strong, he was popular, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t feel like he was pretending. He was who he was supposed to be.

And as for Ryan Thornton?

Well, Mateo didn’t even remember who that was anymore.

Mateo Hernandez had found his place. And he wouldn’t change it for anything.

[mercurygguk]

head over skates · jjk ; part iii.

··· SUMMARY; jeon jungkook is the captain of the hockey team and one of the biggest fuckboys on campus. you happen to have known him for as long as you can remember but he is not who he used to be and you simply can’t stand it.

so what happens when you’re suddenly stuck doing a project with him for three weeks?

SERIES MASTERLIST · # TAG · MOOD BOARDS · PLAYLIST

PAIRING; hockey player!jungkook x f. reader

GENRE; fwb au, childhood friends to enemies to lovers au, college au

WORDCOUNT; 1,255

RATING; 18+

WARNINGS; swearing, a teeny tiny little tension but also, jk is being very sweet :(

a/n; part 3!!! i love doing this little series bc it's so easy to write when the chapters aren't so long <3 i hope all of you enjoy it too despite the fact that it's not a very long read! lmk what you think! ty for reading xx

You didn’t text Jungkook back.

No matter how tempted you were when he tried to bribe you with iced americano – your favorite (which he remembered).

Instead you took it upon yourself and started working on the project without him. Your gut is telling you that he won’t be adding much to the group work nor will he invest the time and energy in it. There’s no reason to wait around for him to actually care about the project when you know that ‘caring’ isn’t one of his primary traits. It used to be but not anymore – if he still cared, he wouldn’t have abandoned your friendship the way he did.

Besides, it’s not like you mind. 

You’ll gladly put his name on the finished product if it means you’ll be rid of him and his flirty, cocky behavior. It’ll only make the process easier and you’ll be able to do it just the way you want. If anything, Jungkook should be grateful that you’re willing to do this on your own and just add his name. Normally you wouldn’t do something like this but you just can’t stand being stuck doing group work with him for three weeks.

Jihyo is right though – it is time to move past it but you can’t. Not yet.

You haven’t spoken to Jungkook in 5 years – that’s sixty months of spite and aggravation that has affected you way more than you would’ve liked. Like you said, you’re not one to hold grudges against people but this particular grudge has been sitting in the back of your mind for half a decade and while you’d love to be able to just let it go, you can’t.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when your phone buzzes due to an incoming text. You reach for it to take a look, your face instantly twisting in annoyance when you realize who’s texting you.

[11:07 AM] Jeon🤬👊🏼: whatcha doing? ;)

You swipe it, removing it from your lock screen before returning your focus to your laptop and the project at hand. You let out a soft sigh and rest your chin in your palm as you play around with the font of the text – Times New Roman suddenly has a whole other meaning after Jungkook’s name was written next to yours the other day.

"It’s good to know your phone works.”

“Oh my god!”

Startled by the low and deep voice right next to your ear, you jump in your seat and turn around with widened eyes. Dark brown eyes with a mischievous glint in them are staring back at you, an amused grin on pink lips as well. You take notice of the two iced americanos in his hand before you’re scowling at your former friend turned stranger.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to do the project,” Jungkook tells you and holds up the beverages. “I brought drinks.”

“How did you know I was here?” You can’t help but ask, wondering how he managed to locate you. The library isn’t exactly one of the places on campus Jeon Jungkook frequents the most. You’d know since you spent a lot of time here. 

He shrugs, “I saw you when I walked by, went and got these,” he places the iced americanos onto the table, “and came back to join you.”

You gape at him for a moment as he pulls a chair out and takes a seat next to you, not a word of protest leaving you because you’re simply speechless once again. He actually got you iced americano and he genuinely wants to do the project. 

Something doesn’t seem right.

Jungkook glances at you with a smirk when he’s met by silence, “what? Surprised that I actually do my school work?”

You shake yourself off your speechlessness and shrug as nonchalantly as possible, “something like that.”

“I see you took a head start,” he nods to your laptop with a chuckle as he pulls his own out of his backpack. That fucking chunky, black backpack he’s had since high school. Back then you wondered what he carried around in it and every time you asked him, he would only shrug and grin. 

Teen boys and their mysterious behavior.

And just for a brief moment, you see your best friend from high school in front of you, sitting here next to you like back in the day – boyish grin and that same glint in his eye. He looks the same and it’s messing with your head because back then you were crushing hard on him. Jungkook has always dominated that casual, boyish charm and look and today is no different. He’s wearing an oversized white Nike t-shirt and black track pants from the same brand. There’s a yellow beanie on top of his head to tame his messy hair. For all you know, he could’ve gotten straight out of bed and gone to campus after throwing on the first outfit he could find – simple, casual, flattering.

The only difference is the two lip rings and the full sleeve of tattoos.

“Yeah, about that,” you start, shooting him a fake, over-friendly smile. “Don't worry about it – I’ll do the project and just add your name before handing it in.”

Jungkook blinks at you for a moment before recovering, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “why? You're scared I’ll fuck it up or some shit?”

You shake your head, “no, I just prefer working alone.”

“You always do projects with Jihyo though,” he points out, squinting his eyes at you.

“That’s different.”

“Is it? Or are you just saying that because I’m your partner?” He challenges.

How do you tell a guy who’s so used to getting his way and having people go out of their way to make sure he’s happy that you don’t want him as your project partner? That you’d rather do an important project that’s meant to be done in pairs by yourself and risk the possibility of getting stressed out just because you got paired up with him? 

“If I’m being honest, yes,” you tell him, not taking a moment to rethink your choice to confront him but just blurting it out instead. “I would rather work myself into the ground than do group work with you. So if you don’t mind…”

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow as you do a gesture with your hands as if to shoo him away. He looks rather unbothered though, not moving an inch either. He stares at you for a second and if you didn’t know any better, you would almost assume he’s silently challenging you to try again, to tell him off and ‘shoo’ him away like a fucking bird. 

You don’t.

You stare back at him, your face not showing an ounce of anything as you patiently wait for him to get up and leave.

He doesn’t.

Instead the corners of his mouth curls into a faint smirk as he reaches for one of the iced americanos and slides it towards you. He then grabs the other one and turns to his laptop, silently sipping on his beverage while getting to work on the project.

You feel your blood starting to boil a little but you don’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, you pointedly snatch up the iced americano, once again turning your focus to the project at hand. You feel his eyes on you but you keep your eyes on your laptop screen, acting as if his presence isn’t affecting you or bothering you in any way.

You then give in and take a sip of the coffee.

Damn it… 

It’s a really good iced americano.

[girlactionfigure]

THURSDAY HERO: Helmut Kleinicke

Helmut Kleinicke was a German engineer who supervised construction projects at Auschwitz while saving Jews from the gas chambers.

Born in 1907, Helmut grew up in the forest of Lower Saxony – literally. His parents were forest rangers. Helmut studied civil engineering and joined the Nazi party in 1933. In 1941, right after getting married, Helmut was hired to join the team planning the construction of Auschwitz concentration camp. He moved to Chrzanow, Poland to work on the project.

In Chrzanow, Helmut was ordered to select local Jews who were young and healthy to work on the construction site. He treated them well and didn’t allow the SS to harass them. One survivor remembered, “Those of us who worked for Kleinicke were like VIPs. We had a certificate that we worked for him, and that was our insurance policy.”

When he heard about plans to round up local Jews, Helmut located every person on the list and warned them they were about to be arrested. Then he transported many of them to the border and helped them escape. Others he hid in his attic and basement. Helmut didn’t keep track of the Jews he saved, but it’s estimated there were hundreds.

By late 1943, the higher-ups at Auschwitz noticed that Jews who interacted with Helmut kept disappearing. He was removed from his job and drafted to an artillery unit, then sent to the front lines. When Germany surrendered in 1945, Helmut was arrested by the British because of his membership in the Nazi party. While he was in prison, Jews he had saved submitted affidavits testifying that he had rescued them “without regard to his person” and that many Jews owed their lives to Helmut Kleinicke. He was exonerated in 1949. For the rest of his life, he did not talk about his wartime activities. He told his daughter only that he’d saved some Jews, but wished he’d saved more. He never considered himself a hero. In 1979, the American miniseries “Holocaust” aired on German TV. Helmut watched it and was deeply shaken. Three days after that he had a stroke from which he never recovered. He died a few months later.

Helmut’s heroism was unknown until recently. In a 2015 documentary, Josef Konigsberg, an Auschwitz survivor, testified that Helmut Kleinicke saved his life by pulling him out of a line of people being deported. This interview, and corroborating evidence that Helmut had saved many Jewish lives, led to Helmut Kleinicke being honored posthumously as Righteous Among the Nations by Israeli Holocaust Memorial Yad Vashem. The ceremony was held at the Israeli Embassy in Berlin, and was attended by Helmut’s daughter Juta Scheffzek. Also in attendance was Josef Konigsberg, who told his story of being rescued by Helmut. “I owe him my life,” said Josef, describing how Helmut rescued him from a transport line to Auschwitz: “My mother came and begged him to rescue me. Kleinicke grabbed me and said that I was his best worker.” Josef’s mother and sister were not so lucky and both died in the gas chamber. Crying as he addressed Juta, Josef said, “This is one of the most beautiful days of my life. Thank you, thank you.”

Juta was deeply touched. “It verified what my father said to me in very few words – and I never knew if he had been telling the truth.” She told the Times of Israel after the ceremony, “It was a very long and emotional search to discover the truth about my father, and I hope that people in America, the UK and Israel will hear about it.”

Israeli Ambassador to Germany Jeremy Issacharoff, who hosted the event honoring Helmut, commented, “When you’re in the context of Germany, you’re never free of the historical dimension of the Holocaust, and it’s a very heavy burden to bear for the Germans, and also obviously for the Jewish people, and it’s always there. And I think it’s really important that this type of ceremony also recognizes that there were a few really important people who did the right thing. And that, to me, is the main message that should come out of this.”

For saving Jews while his peers were killing them, we honor Helmut Kleinicke as this week’s Thursday Hero.

[hornyfor-redacted-onmain]

Secret Secret Chapter 4

OT8 Straykids x reader, ABO AU

Masterlist | Next Part

The rest of the week passed by surprisingly easily. You got around to meeting everybody else on the team, and you did your best to remember their names (thankfully most of them were older than you, which allowed you to easily pull the Oppa or Unnie card when you forgot). They were all kind and helpful, and at the worst indifferent to your presence, which allowed you to make it through the week fairly easily.

You were busy with promotional translations and working out the translation for a few videos that would be dropping the next week, so you saw little of the others as you spent most of your time on your computer. Even so, you managed to find some free time to meet up on Friday with Maya, who was swamped with picking out and modifying all the MV outfits that were scheduled for the end of the month.

When she plopped onto her chair with a sigh, you could only give her a sympathetic look. “Hey, you sure you have the time to have coffee with me?”

“I need a break. Believe me, this caffeine hit is the only thing keeping me going right now.”

“Looking forwards to the weekend?” You asked, knowing that she got Saturday and Sunday off.

“Hmm, I’m definitely going to enjoy my weekend,” Maya confirmed, sipping her coffee. “My girlfriend’s birthday is on Sunday, so we’re planning a small party to celebrate. What about you?”

“I think I’m just going to relax at home.”

You still had to come in on Saturday for a quick meeting to confirm the projects you had worked on that week before they were posted, but it would only be for an hour or two, which left the rest of the weekend free. Normally you and Sooyoung would go out, but you weren’t really feeling it, especially after what happened last week.

Maya lifted her head and gave you a soft smile. “Do you want to come to the party?”

“What time is it?”

“We’re planning for noon. A nice little lunch and then just a hang out afterwards. It’s just going to be me and my girlfriend, a few friends, and some coworkers,” Maya said.

You nodded in understanding. “I’ll probably stop by for a bit. Just send me the address.”

Both of you realized the issues immediately after you spoke, and she was pulling out her phone before you could even say you didn’t have her number out loud. The two of you exchanged numbers and had a comfortable conversation for a few minutes to finish your drinks. Your lunch officially ended when Maya received a text. She scowled.

You shared a knowing look. “Duty calls.”

-0-0-

The company building was practically empty this early on a Saturday morning. On the one hand you were mad at having to be awake so early on the weekend, but on the other hand you appreciated them getting this out of the way so you would have the rest of the afternoon free. The guard nodded in greeting to you as you passed to the elevators, and you smiled in return.

The meeting passed by pretty quickly, all things considered. Soojin, Jeonhui, and the head advertisement manager all joined you, along with a couple of other employees, and you went over the promotional material. You felt a little nervous when presenting your work, but nothing seemed out of place, and they quickly moved on to the next person with little to no words.

Maybe somebody else would have been offended by the way they seemed to look past you, but you took comfort in the indifference, knowing that it was the lack of attention that allowed you to be where you were now.

The meeting was over just as the clock struck 11, and Jeonhui wished you a good weekend as you were leaving. A few of the other employees lingered behind to talk with each other, but you weren’t close or comfortable enough to any of them to join them. You just wanted to go home.

The elevator reeked when you opened it.

The smell of spoiled milk and rotten strawberries hit you, and you immediately clamped a hand over your nose. Disappointment, anger, fear. Your omega was immediately on guard, and you felt like your heart had dropped down to your stomach.

“Ugh, what is that scent?”

“Is that … an omega?”

The other employees who had been behind you walked over, and even when the elevator doors closed once again, the air still lingered with the smell of an omega in distress. It made your hackles rise, and you felt the need to find that omega and comfort them, while another part of you wanted to run. An omega in distress usually meant danger.

You swallowed hard.

The female employee wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Gross. What’s an omega even doing in the building to begin with?”

“Probably one of the trainees. They like to come around and practice on weekdays, as if the extra effort changes the fact that they’re an omega’s.” The male employee said, waving his hand in front of his nose. “Disgusting.”

“That’s omegas for you. Think they deserve the world just because they’re so dainty and fragile. Ugh, I can’t stand them. Why does the company even allow omegas to audition anymore?”

“I don’t think they do. Must have just presented.”

“Let’s just take the stairs. I’ll get a cleaner to sterilize the elevator.”

The two employees walked away, either ignorant of or completely unaware of your rapidly changing mood. Their words echoed in your head, and you found your eyes welling up with tears, not self-consciously, but in anger. Anger at the way they talked so callously about another person, most likely a child.

They way they so nonchalantly and openly admitted the prejudice against omegas in the work force. And the way that neither one of them even thought for a second to go looking for that poor omega in need of help.

You weren’t like them.

You took the elevator, stopping on every floor you had access to and sniffing the air from the hallways. One of the upper floors, where the practice rooms could be found, had a lingering scent, but it was faint, which told you the omega had probably come from there.

You then checked the office floors below them, but they were surprisingly empty. Finally, you found yourself on a floor that you had yet to see, but the second the doors opened you knew it was the right one.

It was the studio floor, which held recording studios as well as production studios.

And it reeked.

The scent in the elevator had already begun to dissipate, so the strong smell was a good sign that the omega was still in the area. Why a trainee would be on the studio floor was beyond your knowledge, but you were on a mission. Your own omega snapped her jaws at the thought of the harsh cruel words from your fellow colleagues.

Gross.

Disgusting.

I can’t stand them.

You knew even if you had been a beta those words would have been offensive to you, and the fact that they said it so easily made your skin boil. You were grateful for your own scent blockers because there was no way they wouldn’t have noticed your soured mood otherwise.

You followed the smell past the entrance area, which had a small kitchen area where coffee and snacks were available, for those who didn’t want to go all the way down to the cafeteria. Or, part of you considered, for those who stayed late enough that the cafeteria would be closed. You thought of Chan, the way the other staff members warned you to keep an eye on him.

‘He’s a workaholic,’ One translator had mentioned in passing. ‘It’s admirable, if not a little stupid.’

Thinking of the alpha made your chest ache.

It felt almost fitting that the farther down the hall you went, in the opposite direction from the recording studios and instead towards a series of locked and labeled doors, when you realized where exactly the scent was leading you. Nearly at the end of the hall, you found a door labeled ‘3racha’.

The door was closed, but the scent told you there was someone inside.

You felt most of your anger dissipating.

On the one hand, you found yourself almost relieved. If there was anybody that you had gotten to know in this past week that you would trust with a distressed omega, it was Chan. He had 2 omegas on his team. He was a comforting figure. And above all else, he was a good man. You trusted him to have the situation handled, and to provide the compassion necessary for the situation.

But on the other hand, your omega refused to leave without making sure that the other was okay. It was survival mentality, the need to stick together, especially in a world like this that would so easily shove the weak and underappreciated away.

But checking in on the other omega would mean having to confront Chan, and you weren’t ready to have to deal with him just yet. You couldn’t look him in the eye without your omega’s want bubbling up, and this close to the surface, you wouldn’t be able to suppress it.

You didn’t really get to make your decision before the door opened, and you startled, legs tensing as you considered running.

A young girl who couldn’t be older than 15 nearly smacked right into you, and she quickly raised her wide-eyed gaze to meet with your own, mouth opening in shock and her scent hitting you with a burst of surprise. Strawberries and milk, sweet and pleasant despite the worry that it conveyed.

“Oh, I- Sorry!” She bowed so low that her hair flipped over her head, the strands hitting you in the face. And then she realized what had happened, lifting her head up with a gasp. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to- are you okay?”

You raised your hands to show her you meant no harm.

“Hey, it’s okay, no need to apologize.” You eyed her tear-stained cheeks. “Are you okay?”

She dropped her gaze. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

You wanted to pull her into a hug. You had to remind yourself she didn’t know you, and that would be weird.

‘It wouldn’t be weird if she knew you were an omega’ your own omega grumbled in your head.

You ignored them.

“You should go home, Jisoo. Your parents will get worried,” A voice said from behind the girl, and your eyes snapped up. “Don’t worry about today. Everything will be okay.”

“Thank you, Oppa.” Jisoo gave you a weary look, but bowed to you nonetheless. “Have a nice day, Unnie.”

“Get home safe,” You answered back, and her shoulders relaxed slightly.

You both watched Jisoo make her way down the hall, the newly presented omega now calmer and safe. Your omega settled at the confirmation, and you felt your energy level drop, prompting you to press your hand against your forehead and close your eyes to let out a huge sigh.

“You know, I think you’re the last person I expected to find on this floor,” Changbin mused.

When you opened your eyes, you saw the beta watching you with a curious look, and you winced. Now that you had calmed down and everything was okay, you realized your behavior might have seemed erratic and confusing to anyone who wasn’t aware of your true presentation. Which Changbin was not.

You suddenly wished that it had been Chan inside the studio instead.

“There was a distressed scent in the elevators, and I … was worried,” You explained, trying to make yourself sound nonchalant. “I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

He pushed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, eyes drifting from your figure to the wall behind you. “Well, it’s a pretty shitty situation, I can’t lie.”

“I heard the company isn’t allowing omega trainee’s anymore.”

“Yeah, they made the decision last year.” Changbin shook his head. “She’s devastated. I calmed her down, told her I would try to figure something out, but ….”

He trailed off, a frown pulling at his mouth. You couldn’t smell him, his sweater doing a good job of hiding most of his scent from you, but you could tell just by his body language that he was angry. You felt a sense of reassurance at that.

Maybe Chan wasn’t the only best option for this situation.

“Are you two close?” You wondered, thinking about the direct path Jisoo had made from the practice rooms. “She headed straight here once she realized what was going on.”

“Were not particularly close, but Chan has told the trainees multiple times that if they ever need anything, they can come to us for help. I just happened to be the one here today.”

You nodded. “They look up to you guys, don’t they?”

“I think all trainee’s look up to idols,” Changbin said, running his hand through his hair. “I kind of wish Chan had been here instead. Or maybe even Jisung. I’m not sure how much I helped her.”

“I think you did a good job. She didn’t smell distressed anymore,” You reassured him.

Changbin’s eyebrows twitched down for a second, even as he nodded. “Yeah, I guess.”

You both stood there in silence for a few seconds. Eventually, you sighed again.

“Well, I guess I should get going. Umm, I guess have a good weekend,” You said.

“You too.”

When you got to the end of the hall, right before turning the corner, you glanced back. Changbin was still standing at the doorway, watching you with a thoughtful look on his face.

-0-0-

Maya’s girlfriend, Isa, was an amazing cook, and judging by the gleeful look on her face as everyone practically devoured the food, you had a feeling she knew. You practically moaned the moment you took your first bite. A beta you assumed was one of her friends melted in his seat, and then jokingly asked Isa for her hand in marriage.

“You’ll have to fight me for it,” Maya joked.

“Don’t tempt me.”

You giggled, and Isa leaned over her side of the table to smile at you. “How’s the food?”

“I’m normally not the type of person to encourage the birthday girl cooking her own meals, but hot damn. I can see why they put you in charge of the cooking,” You praised.

Isa beamed. “Exactly! That, and Maya burns water.”

“It was one time!”

The rest of the table laughed loudly, and Maya rolled her eyes. The other guests began to converse between themselves, and Isa eyed you with a small smile.

“So, you’re the new translator,” She began, and you paused with your fork an inch from your mouth. You nodded. “How’s it going? Maya tells me you joined at an inconvenient time, what with the tour starting up soon.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Oh? She told you about that?”

“I’m her girlfriend, she tells me everything,” Isa said nonchalantly.

“Everything?”

Isa grinned, leaning closer. “Everything. Maya’s nice and quiet and gets her job done, so sometimes people are very loose lipped when around her. You’d be surprised by the amount of drama that goes on in that fancy building of yours that nobody every hears about.”

“Oh? Like what”

She simply winked. “I’ll tell you later.”

Later turned out to be while you were washing dishes, a task you decided to take up to get away from the room full of alpha pheromones. You knew they weren’t doing it on purpose, since they were under the impression you were a beta and had no way of knowing about your sensitive omega nose, but it was still enough for you to get overwhelmed.

Isa eyed the kitchen door where Maya was with the other guests, and then she was leaning in close to you as she passed by. “Two of the stylists are hooking up.”

“What?!” You nearly dropped the plate you were holding.

“JYP tried to get one of his nephews into the company, but he bombed his audition so badly that he couldn’t even use nepotism to save it.”

You let out a sharp noise of surprise. “Oh my god, Maya really does tell you everything.”

“Yup.” Isa smirked. “Want to hear more?”

“I’m not sure I should,” you protested, but after a moment of her just staring at you knowingly, you broke out into a smile. “Oh, who am I kidding. Tell me everything!”

“Well, I’m not quite sure about this one, because it’s more recent, but apparently one of the idols is having a lovers spat with another one of his members.”

You blinked in surprise. “That’s definitely news to me.”

“Yeah. She was complaining about how the recent photoshoot had to be delayed an extra hour because Felix refused to be in the same room as Chan.”

“Wait, Felix and Chan are the ones fighting?”

Isa paused. “Oh, yeah. I forgot you were working with them. Don’t let Maya know I told you anything, it’s supposed to be kept hush hush.”

“Right. I won’t say anything,” You promised.

-0-0-

“Why are you and Felix fighting?”

The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them. In your defense, you would have said anything in that moment, if just to end the awkward silence that had fallen over you and Chan when the two of you found yourselves alone in the meeting room.

You hadn’t intended to be alone with him. You weren’t even supposed to be in the meeting room in the first place. You had been passing by after dropping off some papers that Jeonhui had asked for, and just happened to almost get hit by a door as it opened, with Felix storming out. You both paused and stared at each other for a second in surprise.

“Oh, hey.”

Your eyes darted towards the open door, where you could see a dejected Chan standing with his hands on his hips. “Hey.”

Felix gave you a strained smile as he passed you by, and you watched him go for a second before you entered the meeting room yourself. Chan only lifted his head a fraction as you walked in. You closed the door behind you, and the two of you lingered in that awkward silence before you finally decided to break it in the most stupid way possible. You knew the question was out of line the second it was out of your mouth.

Why had you even walked into the room to begin with? Why hadn’t you just walked away?

Chan finally lifted his head completely, and you froze at the sight of his eyes.

They were red.

“Shit.“

Your hand reached blindly behind you for the door handle, but before you could grab it Chan was suddenly at your side, hand gripping your wrist tightly. Your breath caught in your throat, the sudden bitter scent of his alpha hitting you in the face.

He swallowed hard. “Don’t go.”

“I don’t think I should even be here,” You admitted, but you allowed him to pull your arm back in front of you anyways. “Chan, your alpha-“

“I know,” He whispered, closing his eyes. “It’s okay, I’m not … I can’t stand watching another omega walk away from me right now. Just … stay.”

With his alpha so close to the surface, you found it hard to refuse. While you could have just stood there, allowing him a moment to come down from his headspace on his own, there was something so painful about watching Chan battle with his own emotions and instincts. It was an impulsive decision, much like the choice to walk into the meeting room, much like the need to say something.

You grabbed his hand, the same one still holding you, and brought it up to your lips. With a soft kiss to the inside of his wrist, Chan let out a shudder, and he easily allowed you to pull him closer until his face was pressed against your neck.

While your omega scent was still covered with the artificial scent of beta, it would have to do. You softly allowed him to scent you, and it only took a few minutes before Chan came back to himself with a sharp inhale.

He pulled away from you so quickly he stumbled on his feet. “Shit, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” You reassured him, licking your lips. “You needed some grounding.”

“Fuck.” He ran his hand down his face.

You gave him a sympathetic smile. “That bad, huh?”

“Felix is really mad this time. I think I fucked up,” He said.

“Mind me asking what happened?” Chan was silent, and you took a hint. “Right, none of my business then.”

“No, it’s definitely your business.”

You paused from where you had started to turn back to the door. “Sorry?”

“Felix is mad because of the omega I slept with last week. You.”

“What?”

“He wants to meet you.”

“What?”

Chan let out a sigh, and he pulled out a chair to sit down. After a moment of consideration, he offered one of the chairs for you, and you were quick to take it since it felt like your legs were seconds away from giving out on you. The more he talked, the more dizzy you felt.

“Explain,” You said, staring Chan down.

“Felix knows I slept with an omega last week. I let it slip that I was still in contact with you, accidentally, and now he thinks that I might be having a serious relationship with you- well, the omega. He wants to meet you, and when I told him he couldn’t, he got upset. He thinks that … he thinks I might be trying to replace him.”

“That’s ridiculous,” You said with a scowl.

“I know. I thought it was just a petty little argument, but he … I think he actually believes it. He got so upset, yelled that me not wanting him to meet the other omega was suspicious and that if it wasn’t serious I would have just said that, and I obviously can’t explain it-“

“Because of me.”

“Because it’s complicated,” Chan corrected, rubbing his face again. “This isn’t on you, sweetheart. This is my problem.”

You scoffed. “Are you kidding me? Your omega is mad at you because of me, Chan. He thinks you’re replacing him with me. And if you told him the truth, none of this would be an issue.”

“If he thought it was just a one-night stand, then this wouldn’t be a problem anyways. I’m the one who fucked up here,” Chan argued.

“Why would he even think it was more than that anyways?” You wondered.

Chan froze.

You found yourself letting out a small laugh as he just stared at you with wide eyes, not wanting to believe the first thought that ran through your head. But the second thought, and then the third, all felt less convincing. Your smile dropped pretty quickly.

“Chan. Why would Felix think it was more than a one-night stand?”

He ran his fingers through his hair, then down his face, and then he shot to his feet to turn away from you completely. You shook your head in disbelief.

“You can’t be serious,” You breathed.

“This was before I knew you were a part of the company. I told him the morning after, before the meeting, and I obviously didn’t have the chance to explain what happened.”

“Jesus, Chan! You were planning on courting me?”

“Yes, I was.”

“Fuck.” You slumped back in your seat. “Why didn’t you just tell him I rejected you or something?”

“He would know I was lying. I wouldn’t have had time to ‘meet up’ with you this past week because we’ve been busy, and if he thought I did after he asked to meet you, he would have been even more pissed at me for ignoring him.” Chan explained. “It’s just … I thought I’d have time to come up with something, but it’s been a very stressful week.”

“Fuck,” you repeated.

Chan turned back around, giving you a tired look. “Yeah, fuck.”

He shook his head, and with his hands on his hips, he began to pace the length of the meeting room. You glanced a look at the clock and realized that you needed to get back to your desk before someone noticed how long you had been gone. You needed to finish your work for the day. You needed to leave the room and hope that nobody caught you here with Chan. What you needed to do was clear.

But you couldn’t think about any of that. You could only think about the strained smile on Felix’s face as he passed you by, the havoc that Chan had to have gone through for his alpha to take over, the fact that their relationship was being strained because of you. You closed your eyes, but you could still hear the footsteps as Chan paced.

“Tell him.”

The footsteps paused, and you opened your eyes to give Chan an even look.

He didn’t turn around. “What was that?”

“Felix,” You clarified, letting out a soft sigh. “Tell him the truth.”

Chan spun around with wide eyes. “Are you serious?”

“I’m not letting your pack relationships fall apart because of my choices.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

You tilted your head to the side. “Do you trust Felix?”

“With my life,” he said with no hesitation.

“Then so do I.”

The two of you stared each other down. Your head still felt fuzzy, but your chest no longer felt like there was a weight holding you down. You pulled yourself up from the seat, and only took a second to gain your composure.

You gave him a nod. “Well, I got to get back to work. I’ll see you later.”

“Wait, that’s it?”

You didn’t bother answering him, instead making your way towards the elevators with an urgency that only grew the further you got from him. The dizziness had gone away, and as the reality of the situation started to dawn on you, so did your clarity. Being that close to Chan, letting him scent you with his alpha so close to the surface, had been a terrible decision. Your body felt hot, and you were grateful for your scent blockers.

Today was chalking up to be a horrible day.

You were going into pre-heat.

[callsignfoxy]

Blue-collar!Simon who goes to the same restaurant every day for lunch, ordering the same thing, but today he takes note of you, the new server, and you strike up a conversation.

Fem!reader POV Word Count: 1079

"___, is it? Uh, thanks for gettin' this out to me so quickly," he grunts as his eyes meet yours.

You intended to turn away to attend another table when you heard him speak and met his gaze. Oh, so he does know how to talk, you thought humorously, turning more of your attention onto him. The first time you met the large man sitting in the booth was a couple of days prior, and you had tried your best to do your waitress thing.

Flashing your bright smile that usually did well. Even commenting on the weather and trying to make conversation. He gave his order, and then all you received in response were short nods, a few grunts, and barely veiled annoyance. You backed off, assuming he just wanted to enjoy his meal alone. No harm.

Then, after yesterday, you had a sneaking suspicion that he may be the kind to order the same thing every day. After asking around, the other servers confirmed your theory. You took a risk today, and hopefully, it'd pay off. You may not want to do the waitress thing forever, but you were damn good at your job when it came to grumpy customers.

Smiling brightly, you tucked a loose piece of hair behind your ear that had fallen out of your updo. "Yep, that would be me, and don't mention it. I figured that might be what you were ordering, so I thought, 'Why not?'" You chuckled. He nodded in response, and you really couldn't help yourself. "But, you know my name now; how about yours?" You inquired, trying to make small talk.

Simon leaned back into the booth, taking you in more before responding. "Simon," he stated simply, his voice like gravel. It softened slightly as he added, "Was a damn clever move, puttin' in the order early." His eyes crinkled slightly at the corners, suggesting a slight smile you couldn't see behind his black mask. "You always this attentive with your tables?"

"Ah well, when you work in the business for a while, you pick up a thing or two," you explained with a self-assured smile while pouring his tea into a mug. You took him in for a beat; his light-wash jeans were covered in concrete dust, and his white t-shirt had multiple oil stains, among others. The black mask was odd, but plenty of people wear masks out and about these days. Your eyes trailed subtly to his forearm tattoos, but you didn't linger. "You part of that crew building that new skyscraper down the way?" You asked curiously.

"Aye, that's us," he confirmed, the pride in his profession evident even through the stoic delivery. "Construction site manager for that project. It's been a right sod to keep on schedule with all the weather we've been havin'." His hand gestured vaguely to the window beside him, where the rain was still coming down in buckets.

"Should be a right monster of a building once it's done, though. Can see it from miles away," he added, a bit of admiration and pride twinkling in his eyes.

"Sounds like quite the task, being a manager of such a large project and team," you commented, raising your eyebrows. You'd held a manager position at your last serving job and even just that was a lot. You couldn't imagine the enormous undertaking of managing a whole skyscraper project.

"Like herdin' cats most of the time, but... bigger and a lot more swearing involved," he chuckled softly. When you joined him, it was like he realized he'd let the sound out and then cleared his throat. "But yeah, bloody nightmare somedays, but it's what I do," he finished.

"An' the rain?" you asked, gesturing to the window with your carafe. Simon rolled his eyes and let out a frustrated huff.

"The rain," he said glancing back out at the storm, "sure doesn't make the job any easier, but gives me an excuse to come here and get out of the wet for a bit." His eyes landed back on to you, the brown in them a little warmer than when he first came in.

You smiled, seeing that his shoulders relaxed slightly more. That alone was a job well done for you. "Well, glad to provide a little bit of respite," you said good naturedly. "I'll quit talkin' off your ear off though, and let you get back to your meal. Just call me out if you need anything. Otherwise, I'll be back with the check," You nodded with the tea carafe and turned away to attend your other tables in your section.

Simon, for his part, watched you turn, feeling your presence wane like a warmth he hadn't realized he was basking in for the moment. He tore his gaze away from you, the reality of his solitude trickling back in as he dug into the meal that had completely gone unnoticed until now.

"All done here?" You said, picking up his plate a little while later. "Just the check or would like some tea for the road?" You asked.

"Jus' the check, thanks," he said with decisiveness. It was your turn to nod as you fished the check out of your apron to place it on the table. You watched as Simon pulled his wallet out and placed the notes on top of the slip, not missing the extra he had added. he shifted out the booth and stood gazing down at you. "Thanks for the quick service, keep the change," he said in a gruff but appreciative tone.

"Just don' my job. The cook makes it real easy though. She whips up meals faster than you can blink," you joked with a chuckle. "So, Mr. Simon, same time, same meal tomorrow?" You beamed, returning his gaze.

Simon gave a short laugh. "Yeah. Same time, same meal." With that he headed towards the door, his footsteps echoing softly against the diner's linoleum floor. You watched him go, with a small smile, feeling a sense of accomplishment. Maybe there was more to Simon than just grunts and nods after all.

As you continued your work day, the interaction with Simon would pop up when your mind wasn't occupied, and you couldn't help but be curious about the masked construction worker that had graced your section. It was a curiosity that had you looking forward to tomorrow. Same time, same meal.

I'm thinking of doing more tandem POV going forward because I know that man had some thoughts. Would that be confusing? Idk, anyways, hope y'all enjoyed 😘

[ghostieblr]

the perfect star that hid

written for @sterekbingo square "soulmate au." kind of a new take on soulmate au? at least i haven't seen this particular type (if you have, please link them to me!! <3) also, my card is under the cut! at the very end. the full fic is here, but you can also read it on ao3 (where i'll post it when i get back home) if that's more your style.

The name unfurls on his wrist at the mall, filled with people, a scratch to his bone that goes unnoticed; he always wears full sleeves, a habit borne of shame and fury, fury at himself and his life and at the one who is writing it. He's 27 — older than the average population of those without someone by their side, someone who are made with dust and ashes that together make the perfect star.

He's celebrating his 27th birthday, actually, in this very mall. Friends that appreciate his appreciation for Star Wars, that don't mind him or pity him, who actually care about him — they booked an entire cinema hall for him, pulled certain strings to make it happen, and none of them had to pleaded or begged for it. They just love him.

He doesn't have his soulmate, yet, perhaps never will, but there is this truth as well: he has friends that love him like family, like their own. It might just have to be enough.

That's what he's thinking, the epiphany dredging up his past agony and mulling it over, layering it over with itself, a sort of aftercare that he's giving a try. And he's tired, too, of the heartache and the negativity — his own most of all. And he is tired of the day, muscles aching, and hey. It's a good time for a relaxing shower, now that he's home.

So he smiles at no one in the apartment but at himself in the mirror he's hung in the living room, a sort of statement piece that Lydia insisted on after taking one look at his at the time barely furnished abode, and shrugs.

"You don't need anyone, Stiles."

The words don't sound quite right as he hears them, the meaning of it turned desolate instead of triumphant as his thoughts become intangibly tangible, an epiphany to something he might just have to get used to. Still, he's said it, it's out there, and it's gonna have to do.

He picks the clothes off of himself, hopes the shower will help him pick himself up. Decides a bath would be better — but he's not got that now, has he? Perhaps he should start saving for a house, now. But it's just so much harder with one income only; he could move back to Beacon Hills? San Francisco isn't bad, but the prices of real estate are no joke.

The pros and cons of that potential scenario run through his head, his legs out of the jeans now, his hoodie off of his body next. Huh, he's almost out of toothpaste; he should go to the grocery store tomorrow. He should also see what's in his fridge and what's not but — later.

He's getting ahead of himself.

The t-shirt he's wearing comes off, too, a full-sleeved one, white, that looks rather good on him. Accentuates the lean muscle thing he's got going on from his years at the Track Team in high school and college. There's this scar he has on his left palm from falling once in the middle of a tournament. He turns his hand—

It's not bare, anymore. His wrist — it has a name.

His soulmate's name.

He stares. And stares and stares because what the hell. This has to be a joke, right?

It just has to be.

He has been within 100 metres of this person before multiple times. Has been to his childhood home, to the fucking police station he works at because hello — Derek Hale is one of Sheriff's Deputies, and Stiles is the Sheriff's son.

They've been within 100 metres of each other before.

But this has never happened.

But...

He rushes to his bedroom, naked, panicked, ecstatic. Picks up the phone from where he'd chucked it on the bed, opens the contact of a person he hasn't contacted since the last project they did together in high school.

Cora Hale picks up on fifth ring, when he's about to hang up and try again.

"Stilinski?" She sounds confused. "It's been a while. What's up?" A muffled voice, a male. Cora says, "Are you fucking kidding me? It can't be him — you've known each other for — it's impossible —" She's clearly not speaking to Stiles.

"Is Derek there?"

Cora stops talking.

"Cora, is he — did he get it too?"

Sounds of footsteps, labored breathing. Phone changes hands and then: "Are you Mieczys��aw Stilinski?"

Stiles stops breathing. It's real.

Derek is asking him the name nobody but his father and the people at the DMV know.

"I don't know any other Stilinski’s. Just your father and you," Derek is saying. He sounds confused, happy, breathless. "And I know your name starts with an M. I saw some papers on the Sheriff's desk once, by mistake but — how is it you?" A pause. "Not — I didn't — I mean like —"

"How is it me when we have been around each other for so long. I have been at your house, you've been working at the BHPD for... fuck, 3 years now?"

"Since I came back from NY, yeah."

"I don't know, Derek, I don't but I... you were at the mall today, right?" He just wants to be sure.

"Yes. Yeah. I was, I was buying a gift for my parent's anniversary."

"And today's my birthday, I was —"

"With your friends watching Star Wars. I know. I saw you and the Sheriff let the whole station know about it yesterday."

Stiles can't fucking believe this. And also... "I'm so fucking cold. I really should wear some clothes."

"What?"

"Long story short — Shower, saw the name, called the one Hale's number I had."

Derek's chuckle is sexy and seriously, how has he never heard it before? It's a crime. And Stiles should be in jail. At least then he would have met his soulmate earlier... but wait, that's a paradox. Isn't it?

"I thought you were short story long kind of person," Derek says, and follows up with, "And if you're free right now... I know it's late but, would you forsake your shower and meet me to figure out why he haven't met before?"

Stiles cuts the call.

Then calls Cora's cell again. Derek picks it up with an exhale that seems very anxious, so Stiles closes his eyes at his stupidity and admits, "That was a yes. My brain just jumped ahead a few steps. Please text me your number so we can let Cora have her phone back," Cora cheers in the background, "And I can end the call so that I can wear my clothes and you can text me whatever address and we can finally meet and I'm sorry for ending the call so abruptly and seriously why haven't we met before? It's so —"

Derek chuckles again, and really, it's such a nice sound. "Stiles, breathe. I don't want you to die just yet."

"I can absolutely do that, yep."

Silence.

"Stiles? Wear your clothes. I promise I'll help you out of them when —"

There's a sudden struggle at the other end, and then it's Cora's voice coming down the line, "Ew! No! Do it on your own phone. Stiles, I'm texing you my brother's number, so go! Now!"

She ends the call.

Stiles lets his own phone fall onto the bed, processes what happened for just a minute, and then smiles goofily when Cora makes good on her statement.

Somehow, even though they haven't interacted in all these years despite all the things connecting them to the same peg on the board, Derek texts Stiles: "Stop dawdling and come meet me at the diner on 5th. Remember to wear your clothes. For now."

It's all one block of text too, the dork.

Guess that's his dork now.

Greatest. Birthday. Ever.

[trashpandato]

Breakaway

“Lena, this could really be good for the company. Think of the good publicity for L-Corp, sponsoring the biggest women’s cycling race in the world.”

“Sam,” Lena huffs and presses her fingers against the bridge of her nose, “L-Corp isn’t in the business of sponsoring sports events.”

“Yet.”

“We’ve never done anything even remotely similar. Don’t you think it would look a little…desperate? Not to mention suspicious given the timing?”

Sam shifts a little in her seat. “Lena, —”

“Lex’s trial concluded less than six months ago. Any effort to get good press at this point is going to be suspicious. Especially something as blatantly outside of the scope of L-Corp’s usual activities as showing up at some bicycle event. This could actually do more harm than good.”

“You said yourself that you’re trying to move the company in a different direction. You could easily position this as giving back to the community, supporting causes that are, by design, the opposite of what LuthorCorp stood for.”

And Lena can’t really argue with that. She does want to do things differently, from re-naming the company to ending contracts with military suppliers to focussing primarily on research and development projects that would benefit previously underserved communities. But this is a step, or ten, outside of her comfort zone. She doesn’t want to be in the public eye more than she has to be, and she most definitely doesn’t want to be seen as taking advantage of a women’s sports event to bolster her company’s reputation.

“I don’t know.” 

“You don’t have to decide right now. Just, think about it. You’re sponsoring girls in STEM events all the time, and this could be along the same lines of supporting women in areas that are traditionally dominated by men.”

Lena sighs. As always, Sam makes a good point, and as always, she is exceptionally pushy about it.

“Fine. I’ll think about it.”

Later that evening, after Lena has sent off the last few emails dealing with a contract issue with a new subsidiary company in Japan, she clicks out of her email application and pulls up her search engine. If she is supposed to think about sponsoring a cycling event, she wants to know exactly what she would be getting herself into.

Three scotches and a considerable amount of time later, Lena has learned that women’s cycling is woefully underfunded, under promoted and clearly suffers from blatant misogyny of those in charge. She listens to multiple interviews of riders complaining that their races are intentionally shorter than the men’s races because the sport’s regulating body apparently thinks women can’t handle the extra distance. Other than that, the sport seems entertaining enough, and from what Lena can tell, most races are currently dominated by select riders from two or three teams, a fact that speaks to uneven support for equipment and development of new talent across the sport.

While an interview with a sweaty and strikingly good looking blonde cyclist is playing in the background, Lena rubs her eyes and fires off a quick text to Sam.

LL: I’ve thought about it. Go ahead and set up the sponsorship for that race.

—

On race day, Lena regrets every decision she has ever made that has led her to this point. She gets up extra early that day to deal with a number of important issues at L-Corp, but the morning quickly gets away from her. At noon, she is already so behind schedule that she is tempted to text Sam to cancel her appearance at the race. It’s only the knowledge that her friend would never let her hear the end of it that keeps Lena from hiding in her office for the rest of the day. She leaves L-Corp with barely a minute to spare, knowing full well that she is going to have to work late that evening to make up for the time she is going to spend showing her face at the race.

By the time Lena gets there, the medal presentation is just about to start. A race volunteer quickly leads her to the side of the stage, just out of view of the crowds, where Lena spots Sam.

“There you are,” Sam says, handing her a bottle of water to combat the truly ludicrous heat that has built up under the temporary structure surrounding the stage and podium. “I was beginning to worry that you wouldn’t show.”

“I told you I’d be here for this.”

“Yes, but you missed out on seeing the race action.”

“I'm a busy CEO of a multi-billion dollar international company. I don't have time to watch women in lycra pedal around the city for hours."

“Oh, but you did notice the lycra?”

“Sam,” Lena hisses as her attention drifts toward the woman stepping on the podium to accept the congratulations for the win. She grimaces when she sees Maxwell Lord and Morgan Edge hover near the cyclist, Edge shuffling closer and closer to the woman, sporting his usual sleazy smirk. He must say something offensive—not a big surprise, Lena thinks—because the woman accepting her medal suddenly stiffens and grimaces, clearly trying to remain polite and smile for the cameras while her body language conveys that she’d rather be anywhere else but here.

Lena takes a few swift steps toward them.

“Edge. I see you’ve learned nothing from your recent sexual harassment lawsuit. Do you want me to call your probation officer now or later?”

“Lena,” Edge sneers but he steps away from the woman nonetheless. “What a surprise. I didn’t think this event would want to associate themselves with family members of domestic terrorists. Then again, cycling doesn’t exactly have the best reputation for being a clean sport, so I suppose it fits.”

Lena crosses her arms across her chest and raises a challenging eyebrow. “You realize there are mics everywhere, yes? And that you just insulted the sport you’re supposedly here to champion, and everyone could hear it?”

She watches as a couple of official looking men in suits approach and whisper something into Morgan Edge’s ear. With a huff, he turns and retreats behind the stage to the soundtrack of shocked murmurs from the audience gathered in front of the podium.

Lena almost forgets why she is here when she hears an amused voice next to her ear.

“Thanks for that. Not entirely necessary, but I appreciate it.”

Lena’s head snaps toward the voice and all of a sudden she is looking into the bluest eyes she’s ever seen. The woman, Kara Danvers according to the information the race officials had handed her when she arrived for the medal presentation, looks flushed and a little disheveled, but is smiling brightly at Lena.

“Not necessary? He was practically grabbing your butt.”

Kara shrugs. “Not the first time that’s happened during a podium presentation, and won’t be the last. It’s part of the job, unfortunately.”

“It’s part of your job to be groped by men like Edge?”

Another shrug. “At least I usually also get kisses from the podium girls, so it evens out?”

Lena frowns. “What?”

But before she can get more information, one of the race officials hands her a bouquet of flowers and motions for her to hand it to today’s race winner, congratulate her and move on. Lena obliges. She steps in front of the podium, shakes Kara’s hand and ignores the way her stomach swoops when Kara thanks her and winks, fucking winks. Who does that? 

Lena briskly walks off the stage on the other side, where Sam is already waiting for her.

“You can never do things at a normal level of intensity, can you?”

“I told you I’ve never done anything like this before, so maybe don’t blame me for not knowing the proper etiquette here,” Lena snaps. “You could have warned me that Edge and his greasy buddy Lord would be here.”

“Relax,” Sam chuckles. “You did great. I thought we’d maybe get some decent headlines about L-Corp sponsoring the race, but now the media is going to have a field day with you taking on Morgan Edge in public and defending the reputation of women’s cycling.”

“I did no such thing. He spewed his vile nonsense all by himself.”

“He did, and you took him down a notch in front of one the sport’s biggest names. Who seemed pretty taken with you, by the way.”

“Right,” Lena scoffs. The heat behind the stage is unbearable and she can feel sweat trickling down her lower back, her shirt sticking to her skin uncomfortably under her suit jacket. “Are we done here? I need to get back to work.”

Sam looks like she’s about to say something, maybe to try and convince Lena to stay, but Lena is already five steps ahead of her, finding the most direct path to where her driver is waiting for her with her car. And maybe she’s walking faster than strictly necessary, desperate to get away from the cacophony of noises, people and media equipment surrounding the area, and maybe she should have paid closer attention to her surroundings because when she’s not even halfway to her car, she suddenly collides with a solid body. The force of it bumps her sideways and Lena half expects to fall, but then two warm hands hold her upright.

“Golly, I’m so sorry,” Lena hears and when she looks up, it’s the woman from the podium again. 

Kara Danvers.

She’s still holding Lena up, and they’re standing close, so close that Lena can see faint salt lines on her skin from where her sweat had dried off after the efforts of the race.

Lena blinks, too stunned to say anything for a moment.

“Are you okay? I totally didn’t see you and I barrelled right into you. I’m really sorry.”

Lena clears her throat. “It’s fine. I should be the one apologizing. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“You definitely looked like you’re in a hurry to get away,” Kara says, her voice teasing and light.

“I mean, I do have to get back to the office.”

“Of course. Time is money, and all that. Well, thank you for taking time out of your busy day for this, Ms Luthor.”

Lena is used to people commenting on her wealth and her business, and not always in friendly terms. She wears her professional demeanor and her last name like a shield; one that attracts a lot of unwanted attention, but a shield nonetheless. She doesn’t quite know why, but something about the woman in front of her makes her want things to be different.

“Please, just call me Lena.”

Lena can see the flash of surprise on the other woman’s face, but it is quickly replaced by another easy smile.

“Okay, Lena. I’m Kara.”

Lena nods. “Well, Kara, I should get going. Congratulations again on your win. Maybe I’ll see you around at some other races.”

“If you’re going to do the podium honors again, that’ll be more motivation for me to ride extra fast.”

Kara says this last bit with a laugh in her voice that makes Lena blush a little.

“Alright. You do that, but I really have to get back to work now. Bye, Kara.”

—

When Sam enters Lena’s office for a budget meeting a few days later, she finds Lena focused intensely on something on her laptop.

“Did you know that these so-called podium girls are almost all university graduates?”

Sam chuckles. “Are you looking for a side-gig?”

“What? No! I just mean, look at this woman, for example.” Lena turns her laptop toward Sam, the screen highlighting one of the blonde women usually tasked with handing over some stuffed animal to the race winner and giving them a kiss on the cheek. “This is Eve Tessmacher. She has two advanced degrees in biomedical science. She could easily work at L-Corp. Hell, she could probably even lead an entire department here, given her qualifications.”

“And?”

“And?! She spends her time following around the race circuit, smiling for the cameras in a dress that’s entirely too short to comfortably walk up the rickety stairs of those podium stages.”

Sam sits down opposite Lena at her desk and sighs.

“I see you put on your judgy pants this morning. What if they made a conscious decision to work at a women’s sports event? What if representing the race organization is important to them? And who knows, maybe traveling around the country and being a part of this is fun?”

“Fun?” Lena pulls up a few videos and turns the laptop back to Sam. “Does this look like fun to you?”

Together they watch a compilation of footage from various podium presentations. The common theme is the presence of handsy middle-aged men who seem to have made it their mission to make any woman involved with the race event uncomfortable, and the “podium girls” seem to be taking the brunt of it. 

Sam winces as she watches one of the women trying to maneuver her body out of the grasp of a particularly persistent man.

“Okay, fine. That looks…unpleasant. But I assume their presence is part of tradition.”

“Mmh. Maybe it’s time to end this particular tradition.”

That gets Sam’s attention.

“And how exactly do you plan to do that? I thought you wanted nothing to do with sports?”

“You did tell me to sponsor this race. And right now, L-Corp is only one of many corporate partners, but we could easily become the headline sponsor for this race series, and then we could encourage some changes. Not to the racing itself, of course. But those ceremonial parts could do with less of the misogynistic bullshit.”

“Does this sudden interest in who gets to kiss the race winner have anything to do with a certain blonde cyclist?”

“What? No. You…why would you even say that?”

“Because I have eyes and I saw how she looked at you when you played the hero and saved her from Morgan Edge.”

“You’re delusional. I don’t, it’s not about that. It’s about making sure these women get highlighted for their actual talents, not just to be eye candy for men with a bottomless Viagra prescription.”

Sam rolls her eyes. “I see what you’re doing. But if you want to explore what it would take for L-Corp to become the main sponsor, leave it with me.”

It takes a few weeks of meetings and contract negotiations, but in the end, Lena gets exactly what she wants. The L-Corp logo is prominently displayed on banners, posters and race leader jerseys. The media has run a few mostly positive stories about Lena’s newfound interest in women’s cycling, complete with a few soundbites from prominent cyclists who seem pleased with seeing some extra funding and attention for their sport.

During a break in the race calendar, Lena asks her assistant to set up a few meetings with the women working for the race organization. With Sam’s words about being too judgy still echoing in her mind, she wants to get a feel for how much of their job is simply about carrying over traditions from the men’s races and how much wiggle room there is for making changes.

In the first three meetings, the women Lena speaks with are polite and careful. Lena doesn’t get much of an answer to her questions, but she does get the distinct impression that the women would welcome a different approach to some of their duties but are too afraid to rock the boat. It’s only when she meets with Eve Tessmacher that she gets a pretty blunt assessment of the current state of affairs.

“So, Miss Tessmacher, what would you say you enjoy most about your role?”

“Oh, you know, we do get to travel around a lot and it’s nice to see different parts of the country. The quirky small towns are the best, usually, even if the accommodations can be challenging there.”

Lena nods. “And if you could change anything about your tasks with the race, what would that be?”

Eve cocks her head to the side a little and hesitates. Lena can sense that all she needs is one more firm nudge.

“I want you to be honest with me, Miss Tessmacher. If there is anything I can do to change your work environment for the better, I will do that. This is important to me. And I promise I won’t tell anyone what you share here.”

Eve blinks a few times but then nods.

“Truthfully, we would all like to see more respect. I mean, you saw what happened when Morgan Edge was at the medal presentation last month. That’s a constant occurrence. I understand that we need to invite local dignitaries when we pretty much hijack their town for a few days. It’s photo op stuff for them, we all get that. But that could be done in a much more respectful way.”

Lena nods and motions for Eve to continue.

“The outfits are a little much. I always feel like a flight attendant from the 1960s. It would be nice to have some leeway there.”

Lena nods again and jots down a few thoughts on a notepad.

“What’s your long-term goal?” she asks. “Career-wise, where do you want to be in five years?”

At that, Eve lets out a small giggle.

“Is this a job interview?”

Lena looks up from her notepad and raises an eyebrow. “Well, I do know that you have the education to work in R&D here at L-Corp, so if you want this to be an interview, I can make that happen.”

There’s a shocked expression on Eve’s face that is enough to make Lena backtrack slightly.

“Or we can set up an interview for you another time. To give you more time to prepare.”

“Really?” Eve asks, her voice pitched higher than before.

“Absolutely. When you leave here, talk to my assistant, Jess, to set something up.”

“Thank you so much, Miss Luthor. I have to admit, this is not what I was expecting when you called me in for a meeting today.”

“I’m trying to change things for the better, Miss Tessmacher. Both here at L-Corp and at the races, though my influence is a bit more limited there. But I do see that the women representing the race organization are generally overqualified for the task and I’d be more than happy to facilitate a move to other opportunities for those who want that.”

Eve nods but lets Lena continue: “I also want to change things for those who want to stay with the race. Make it more comfortable. No more handsy old men. Better pay. A safer work environment. I really appreciate your candor. You’ve given me exactly what I need to get started.”

From there, Lena gets to work. Her legal department helps draft language that makes it clear to anyone who is part of the podium celebrations that any inappropriate behaviour will result in immediate legal action. She re-assigns two of the podium girls to observe and enforce the new rules if necessary. Several others, including Eve Tessmacher, line up interviews for part-time positions at L-Corp that still allow them to participate in race events if they so choose, and she removes most of the existing stipulations around work attire. Finally, Lena highlights that in order to set clear boundaries, no one should be touching or kissing the winning racers beyond a congratulatory handshake.

It takes a few weeks for all the changes to be implemented, but the impact is immediate. The race series makes waves not just in the sports media, but bigger outlets start featuring the changes and run headlines like “L-Corp race series moves away from outdated traditions” and “Is women’s cycling finally stepping out of the shadows of men’s racing?”

Lena thinks the coverage is a little overblown but it’s still nice to see articles about L-Corp that don’t even reference her brother at all.

Over dinner one evening with Sam, she takes a sip of her wine and sighs.

“You know I don’t admit this very often, but you were right.”

“About?” Sam probes with a smirk on her face.

“You know what I’m talking about. The race sponsorship. The media coverage for L-Corp has been great, stocks are up, the board is pleased with it all. Thank you for pushing me to do it.”

“You’re welcome. But also, I really only said you should do a small sponsorship. You turned that into practically taking over the race series in order to impress Kara Danvers.”

“I did no such thing,” Lena huffs.

Sam simply smiles and clinks her glass against Lena’s. “Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night. But you really should ask her out at some point.”

Thankfully, their waiter interrupts the conversation then, and Sam sticks to talking about Ruby and their weekend plans for the rest of their dinner.

—-

It’s a few weeks later when Lena finds herself back on stage next to Kara Danvers, handing her another bouquet of flowers and a medal for sprinting to an impressive win at a race around National City’s harbourfront. It’s a bit of deja vu, but Lena is happy to see that the overall atmosphere on stage is that of respect and professionalism for all involved.

When she hovers near the edge of the stage after the ceremony is over, Kara walks over to her with determined steps.

“I hear that it’s you we have to thank for the much more relaxed vibes at the medal presentations now?”

“All I did was establish compliance with current labour laws. I don’t want L-Corp to get pulled into a lawsuit over one of these groping incidents.”

Kara nods. “Ah. Well, even if you only did it to protect your company, I appreciate it. Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.”

“I do miss getting a kiss on the cheek for winning, though.”

And maybe it’s the glass of champagne Lena had while she was waiting for the medal presentation to start, or maybe it’s the heat or a combination of both, but suddenly she has no control over the words that tumble out of her mouth.

“I can provide the kiss if you’re amenable to that.”

The laugh that bubbles out of Kara’s chest is loud and bright when she says: "You know, if you wanted to be the one to kiss me exclusively, you could have just asked me out on a date. No need to go to all that extra trouble of making changes to the races." 

Lena blushes. “Okay. This is me asking.”

There’s a moment where Kara only blinks, and it’s obvious to Lena that for all her teasing and bravado, she clearly didn’t expect Lena to play along. She’s about to backpedal when Kara stands up a little taller, smiles and holds out her hand.

“Then let’s go. Let me show you how many carbs I need to eat to fuel top performances. And if you’re into it, I might even show you my tan lines later.” And then she winks. Again. 

All Lena can do is laugh and loop her arm through Kara’s. “Alright. Show me.”

[hwaightme]

GUY.exe

(masterlist) (perma-taglist)

✏️ pairing: yunho x gn!reader ✏️ genre: fluff, crack, friends? to lovers, drawing? to lover ✏️ summary: you never expected for the character you designed for the newest dating simulator to be quite as realistic as this ✏️ wordcount: 5.0k ✏️ warnings/tags: questionable editing, unhinged crack galore, fever dream, digital artist / designer reader, shy boy best friend yunho, lowkey referencing the song the fic is named after (GUY.exe by SUP3RFRUIT) ✏️ taglist: at the bottom of the fic~ ✏️ a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY LOVE MY NADIA @justhere4kpop !!! you are the kindest, funniest, sweetest person ever, i love you so so much and i am so grateful for every day because it means i can spend it with you <3 wishing you the best day, all the most amazing things, experiences, achievements and more!!

Another hour more, and you were going to scream. Hunched over your drawing tablet with bloodshot eyes and a cramping hand, you had been drawing and redrawing what seemed to be the same thing over and over again. But nothing gave you that magical feeling of completion and rightness when the abstract lines and shapes and shadows and doodles all came together on a page to form one whole. What you were experiencing was, in fact, very much the opposite. All because of these damn dumb brown doe eyes that you had decided to give to the character. Of course. What other eyes could the golden retriever type have, right? What other kinds of eyes would your boss approve of for the established archetype, the persona that you had ideated, storyboarded and proposed not only in front of your immediate team but also to senior management? That was right. None. No other. Only these doe eyes that you had been staring at and cursing profusely for the last four hours after having promised yourself that you would try to get to bed at ten in the evening instead of the less-than encouraging past midnight madness. But who were you kidding? 

Setting down the pen, you leaned back to stretch, hearing random joints crack and echo around your body, making you wonder if you have even been moving at all for the past few weeks. Having the opportunity to work from home during fast-paced sprints was, of course, a big benefit, but all too often for you, it also meant only ever walking from your home office to your kitchen and back, with the occasional bathroom break and a flop onto the armchair you had dragged into your office for designated social media scrolling time. Gone from the world, with your friends having nicknamed you an e-hermit in not one, but two separate chats. Zoned out and barely hanging onto the words spewed by your superiors, much like the rest of your fellow designers working on this same project, be it other characters, setting, clothing customisation options, accessories, or special items… as the main project lead, boss of the bosses had said: ‘whatever the user wishes for, should be there’. Who knew that a dating simulator could be that intense and demanding? 

Your drawing tablet was glaring at you, and so were the eyes on its screen, doubled onto your monitor watching your every movement like a painting at a museum would. They were meant to be kind and loving, crafted to complete the sunshine that this character was supposed to be, but the slightest misses in the lines were throwing the image off-kilter, and you could not pinpoint what was wrong. Reaching out for the now lukewarm cup of coffee off to the side of your desk, narrowly avoiding the clutter of sketches and notes you had made, you heaved a sigh, pondering if it would be the wisest to simply resign yourself to abandoning the task for today, and pick it up at work tomorrow. It was not like you would be punished for having the eyes be slightly off during an update meeting, after all, this was an ongoing process. But the perfectionist part of you was not letting go. You had managed to ideally depict everything else - the toned, tall physique with the stunning waist, torso and broad shoulders, the cheeks that made you feel a strong cute aggression, the tousled locks that could then be customised by a player’s colour preference, every other feature of the face that screamed ‘handsome’ and ‘appealing’... you did it all, and you would not be yourself if you could not overcome this little blip.

“One more try…” you whispered to yourself and searched for the file on your computer that contained a user story and profile of the character you had been agonising over. 

One click, another, and the document was up on the screen, revealing an initial concept sketch that you had made when you first proposed the man as a possible love interest for the main character in the simulator, as well as any facts about him, now being even further developed by the story-writers. Page after page, update after update the character in some ways felt more real than you, especially in your current deflated state. A gentleman, a sentimental soul, with what your colleague had called ‘four-dimensional’ traits and overall a funny, adorable sweetheart who at the click of a finger can turn into the sexiest man alive. There was nothing you did not like - aside from some details here and there that you were not sure who added but they had been approved so you had to deal with it, and that was problematic for your work since it meant that you were in the permanent state of wanting to do the character justice. You scrolled back up, starting at the brief, staring at the name as if it wasn’t already imprinted in your mind. Jeong Yunho. 

The dance instructor and choreographer. The talented and hardworking man who the main character would meet third, on her eighth day in Seoul. Born on the twenty-third of March nineteen ninety-nine in the city of Gwangju, moving to Seoul to chase his dreams and fight for them. Special talents… skills… favourite phrases… preferences… key memories… you read on, re-absorbing the details and rearranging them on imaginary shelves, trying to make sense of the information in the context of character design. How were you going to depict all of this in a pair of eyes? A part of you was confident that you were overthinking - actually, you definitely were. Not a single other designer was on Yunho's creation, and developers were going to look at him not as a persona, as a representation of a being that had become real in your mind, but as a task to execute, lines of code to make him move in predetermined ways, make him talks in predetermined ways, smile… yes, you were excited to see him be just that bit more alive, but at the same time, you were afraid of that moment - it would be right then that the world you had subconsciously built for you and him alone would be shattered, and your daydreams dispelled, maybe even crushed. So, getting the eyes perfect right now was the least you could do. At least your Yunho would be perfect.

Swearing under your breath, you picked up the pen once more and twirled it once around your fingers. His personality was fresh on your mind, heart racing, you could almost imagine him in front of you. With a final nod of encouragement, you dived back in, with more vigour and motivation than before, determined to get Yunho right, and to depict him how he truly was, how you knew he should be. The time ticked past, and so did the layers of doubt. Erasing themselves along with strokes of the digital brushes that dissatisfied you, you were unveiling the true character, and with a light heart, a smile on your face and a saved file, leaned onto your desk and rested your head on your crossed arms, just for a quick break to relish in the fact that you finally achieved the look that you had been searching for…

“Hey, good morning you worker bee, what did I tell you about sleeping at your desk?”

You never thought you could yell, right after waking up, as loud as you did at that moment. Jolting up from your seat, forgetting all the papers, equipment and stationery that was strewn about on the table on which you had been dozing, you bolted away from the source of the voice. It had resounded far too close to you for comfort, belonged to no one whom you knew, and was dangerously sweet and slightly lower-set. Pleasant. But who the hell was in your apartment and how did they break in when you almost always double-locked your door? After building up a bit of distance, you finally looked up and rubbed the last bits of sleep from your eyes. The figure was lean, toned, considerably tall, perhaps even very tall, definitely a man, with dark hair and a face that was a bit too similar to-

Jeong Yunho. Jaw-dropping, you darted back to your tablet and computer, practically shaking the mouse, forcing the entire digital system to begrudgingly awaken at your command. You searched everywhere. The open file, others, older versions… nothing. No luck in finding what you had been working on. It was as if the Yunho you had been spending weeks developing had never existed, and all that you were left with and were staring at was a blank page, and the character, no, a whole man, right in front of you, supposedly living, breathing and in your room. You stood up straight, giving the not-quite-a-stranger but still a stranger a once over, while he, confused, had an eyebrow raised and a sheepish smile on his face. He looked adorable that way. Abashed to the point of cuteness - you recalled a game developer on your team describing the planned emotional response functionality in that way; it had been a hit, and now you were seeing, in person, why. 

“Y-Yunho?” you whispered in disbelief, a hand hovering over your mouth while you were wondering whether you should officially report yourself to your boss for having succumbed to the delusions. Relief flashed over the beautiful man’s features when you mentioned his name, timidly, yes, but still, it was his name that you uttered.

“Yes, Y/N, that’s me, hey, don’t worry.”

“Y/N?” He knew your name. This was too real - a shriek erupted from what felt like the depths of your soul, and you shut your eyes, only to open them again and to see the same picture, but a little more zoomed in. He was approaching you. Code red, alert, alert, hot man of your dreams who you had been drawing all the time and were effectively being paid to thirst over was approaching you.

“Do you not remember me or something, are you okay? See I keep telling you to not sleep so late, it’s bad for you-”

“Look who’s talking, mister ‘time to text at two in the morning’,” It was a shot in the dark, a random recollection of facts that had been noted about Yunho, but that was true, since he stopped immediately, a dazzling smile on his face.

“Alright, alright, you got me. But hey, you answer me so we are in this together, right?” he countered, and winked. 

“Yeah… and I should stop drinking coffee that late, it gives me some cursed… abilities…” you concluded cryptically, though Yunho did not seem to care much about the wording, taking it as your account of how easily you had been spooked by him.

After the initial wave of ‘stranger danger’ had subsided, instead being replaced by the odd conviction that the man before you truly was just the representation of the character for the simulator, you crossed your arms and regarded him more slowly, calmly while he approached the book cabinet that was filled to the brim with manga, manhwa, figurines, dolls, action figures… effectively the best representation of what had inspired you and continued to drive you to do what you were doing in your life now. He was dressed casually, in a zip-up grey hoodie and dark grey jeans. He had taken off his shoes and was in black socks that he stuffed into a pair of slippers - so in this reality, Yunho clearly was a regular guest. Scratching the back of your head, you wondered if this was a storyline that had been updated and you were unknowingly hallucinating.

“Well, uh, if you… if you want me to come by another time I don’t mind. Whatever works best for you…”

Oh. It finally clicked in your head, and your heart fluttered. The moment was stark and aching in your mind, and you were barely able to contain yourself, the subconscious fangirl in you fully awakening. The light flush of pink on his cheeks, those damn doe eyes that were so perfect, and were now looking right at you as if you were Yunho’s entire world, it was all a telltale sign for what was to happen later, and the past disappointment at having been woken up and having no more documents to present evaporated. This was another life, it had to be. One where you did not have to worry about the endless story points, bi-weekly sprints and one deliverable after another. Only a very precious Yunho who, while toying with the sleeve of his hoodie was pondering if he was even welcome.

“Hey! No, we were planning to hang out and we are going to. Sorry, you know how work is and it got to me this time. What shall we do then? Go out, stay in?” you amplified your sociability, putting the fantastical aspect of the circumstances on the back burner for future pondering.

Laying down the pen that you had absent-mindedly grabbed for self-defence, you stepped around the desk and towards Yunho, never once breaking the visual exchange, except when his gaze darted to the floor under your intensity. You had the advantage after all, of knowledge. You could sense, and could confirm by your universe, what exactly was going to happen. He was pretending to not be affected by your closeness, looking at the cabinet again, though the tone in which he spoke was vulnerable, every bit the dream guy you were imagining all this time. You could barely resist the urge to pinch his cheek - in fact, you made a mental note to yourself to check if that was a playable option in the game or not.

“Can we… stay in?”

“Take out?” if there was something you would not quite let him do, it would be to give him full power over the kitchen. Perhaps another time, but not when the dream was so magnificent.

“You bet! I’m buying this time-”

“Yun, c’mon.”

“Technically I am still the guest.”

“You are much more than a guest-” a pause, a blur within which Yunho was attempting to pick out the meaning behind the words which you had purposefully left to be ambiguous, just to mess with him a little bit. It was too sweet, “I mean, you practically live here at this point,” he groaned and playfully rolled his eyes while continuing to tap in the order to what was for sure meant to be your favourite restaurant in the neighbourhood.

You followed him into your living room. Everything was just as you had left it. Even Yunho’s presence was beginning to feel natural, probably because it had already been pretty much just as constant as him now physically falling onto the couch and leaning back to stretch an arm out over the back of it. Hell, you had even spent some evenings sketching him in this same room. As you settled beside him, while still keeping a little bit of distance - just as friends who were feeling not quite platonic would do, you realised that indeed, you were that close. You did know him ‘since forever’, and whatever this fever dream was, you had every right to enjoy it. So upon pulling your legs onto the couch and under you, you settled in and with a soft sigh began to set up the movie you were going to watch. Just like you and Yunho would do had he been an actual interest of yours.

As the food arrived and was promptly devoured, and you were midway through the film, you found Yunho slowly but surely gravitating towards you. First, it was with an outstretched hand when he was trying to imitate a character on the screen, then with him sitting ever so slightly closer when there was supposedly a ‘spooky moment’ even though you knew full well that out of the two of you, you were the one who would not dare enter a haunted house again, and finally, under the pretence of ‘wanting to show you a funny meme on his phone’ he sat right next to you, thighs flush against each other, arm resting on the sofa right behind your head. You could not help but lean into the warmth, attracted to it, comforted. You knew Yunho inside and out, and if there was anyone who you would trust like this, it would be him. He had seen you at your worst - crying in the office bathrooms when during your early days at the company you had been humiliated by your old boss (who, thankfully, had been promptly fired), and had seen you at your best - your award-winning presentation and proof of concept for an innovative life simulation game, selected as a showpiece for the company at a major global conference. He was always there. Be it on your phone, in a sketchbook, or on your laptop - he was always there, cheering you on. There was no difference between then and now, except that now you could allow your head to rest against his broad chest, hearing the soothing beating of his heart behind the cotton fabrics, feeling how his hand dropped to trace random, intricate shapes on your shoulder while his eyes stayed glued to the television screen. 

You could sense that he was afraid to look at you, or at least of what he would think or do if he were to do so. He was warm. Very warm. Maybe too warm. You looked up, noting the adorable redness of his ears that appeared only in particular instances: either he just woke up from deep sleep which was not the case, or he had violently shaken his head and rubbed his ears - another no, or he was embarrassed and shy. Bingo. There it was. You nuzzled against him and swore you could feel his entire body stiffen. Just like when a cat makes a person ‘ the chosen one’ by lying on their lap and said person almost forgets to breathe, you nearly knocked consciousness out of Yunho, it seemed.

“What’s up?” you mumbled, noting that Yunho straightened his back, sitting in an unnatural position.

“I, uh, nothing, it’s nothing,” he responded, clearing his throat, still not daring to look to the side to face you. 

A pause. That was his character - you nodded to yourself. He had always been like this. Sympathy through the roof but when it came to his openness - he far from often strayed into that field. It would take quite a bit of coaxing, or, somehow easier, waiting for the right moment. So wait you did, comfortably resting against Yunho, insistent that he return to his previously unwinded state. Before you could snake your hand around him to pull his hood up, your friend suddenly shot up, mumbling something about it being too stuffy, or too hot, and tugged the article of clothing off.

All would be fine and dandy if he was not built how he was - and you knew it better than anyone, however strange it was to admit. After all, you had been the one to pick and sketch out his physique, knowing every muscle, curve and edge. As he fumbled with the sleeves, you took in his form, mouth agape as you saw what you had only perceived two-dimensionally, now in live action, and somehow being the one case of where the transition was impeccable if not better. If he were to turn at any moment, he would bear witness to your disturbingly dedicated scrutiny. But at the same time, what could a digital artist and designer do when a handsome man was right before them? Exactly. It was practically a duty to perceive; if not for personal interests (which you would be a liar if you were to say you did not have them), then at least for science. He looked too good in the dark grey graphic t-shirt, which, despite it being slightly oversize, did its beautiful work by revealing his perfectly toned arms. When you noticed him being in the process of turning back, you peeled your gaze away and back to the movie, not sure where in the storyline you even were, nor what the actors were saying. Patting the space next to you, you beckoned Yunho back. This time, he was calmer in his demeanour, falling back and letting you fall into him, with him, for him - and he was right there to catch you. 

Action scene after action scene turned into a blur, dialogue was static that you were not bothered to discern while you focused on Yunho’s breathing. Shallower than before, but still comforting. Who would have thought that you would be cuddling with your dream man when a mere few hours ago you were holed up behind your desk, with a cramped and stiff neck, an exhausted hand and equally tired eyes? Eyelids grew heavier, and you wondered if it would be long before you would fall asleep again, and wake up alone, as usual; a bitter smile settled on your lips when the realisation hit you, earning you a perplexed glance from Yunho and a poke in your side.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“Definitely something, he turned to you, studying your every movement. The action led him to detangle himself from you, leading you to shiver a little from the lack of his body heat, “ah wait are you cold now? I- wait, here, hoodie?”

“Thanks.”

Him. In every thread. The scent of clean laundry, cotton, and fabric softener. There was something so magical in it, soothing. You wanted to float in the aroma and this moment forever. Pulling the hoodie tighter around you, you pretended to not notice the adoration that was blatantly obvious in Yunho’s expression. He watched as you pushed up the sleeves a little bit, crossed your legs and looked back at him.  Your friend, your muse and subject was nervous, and it did not need a trained professional to figure it out. The tale was climbing to a peak, and the main characters had to face it together. You waited for him, mellowness across your features as you played with one of the hoodie’s drawstrings.

Yunho looked at you, and something about the purity, and hopefulness within him made you think of the very first drawings you had made on post-its in the middle of a conference. Bored out of your mind, your mind wandered back to pondering the new project you had been assigned - the dating simulator. Idea after idea had been proposed for the characters, but not a single one stuck. Everyone was at a standstill until he came along. A breathtaking blessing, just like he was now. Silence settled like snow, only to be broken by a short hum, and Yunho taking the risk you had been wishing for.

“I… I know it has only been a few months but… I really don’t think I can be friends with you anymore, Y/N,” you tilted your head as he put his hands on his lap, fingers repeatedly messing with the material of his sweatpants - his attempt to soothe himself. You, on the other hand, were oddly calm. Simply waiting for the events to unfold and for you to embrace them with the fullest heart. While he was searching for the right words to say, you placed a hand over his, waking him from rumination. A weak smile was replaced by determination, truth spilling from his soul.

“I like you too much. Really. I would not be able to keep my distance even if I tried.”

“Well I think you are a bit too far away right now, Yun,” with a wave of boldness having washed over you, you acted on instinct, leaning towards the beautiful, infinitely precious man until he could not look away, captivated by your proximity, your glimmering eyes, your acceptance.

“Huh?” the sound was barely audible, an echo lost to the tension. You ran a finger over his jawline, instantly seeing his expression darken with another reverberating, deep sensation.

“We should seal the deal, shouldn’t we?” remaining cryptic, you inched closer and closer until you could pick apart the flicks of lighter mahogany in those stunning irises - you wanted to shake your hand for having persevered to finish them in the drawing. Truly, one of a kind.

“What-”

“Oh just kiss me already-”

That phrase you did not need to tell Yunho twice. Finally catching on, he was the first to destroy the distance between you, capturing your lips with his and letting his hand find purchase in your hair, digits running through it, caressing you, guiding you into a shared rhythm. He was as sweet as vanilla with a hint of cinnamon. An intoxicating, ecstatically overwhelming daze that consumed you whole. You saw the sketches flash before you, burning one by one to fuel the desire building for Yunho, for you, for the two of you together. It felt right, it felt real. Arms over his shoulders, you allowed him to pull you into his lap, embrace you and pepper the softest kisses on your cheeks, and your neck, finding the path back to your lips. You felt more alive than ever with the electricity coursing through your newfound intimacy. Nothing existed. This universe was Yunho, and you could not be happier. Better than in any story that you or your co-workers could develop, better than in any fairytale, the oddity transformed into eternity. This was a dream you wanted to remain in for as long as you-

Saying it was hard to wake up was an understatement. Your entire body had been aching from having fallen asleep in an awkward position over your drawing tablet, you had slept past your alarms and as such had only fifteen minutes to cram getting ready and leaving for the office, and upon checking your schedule you had the ‘pleasure’ of having three more meetings being crammed into it, reducing your lunch break to what was a near null. With a sigh, you moved away from your space, dragging your tired body to your first official interaction of the day after having sat at your desk for a couple of hours, already dreading it. The new CEO - whoever they were, was the ‘I want to know all the details and be one with the teams’ type, how joyful, you wondered how long that would last. 

It was hard to find the motivation, especially after a dream such as yours. It kept on revolving in your head, pressing down on you, making you reminisce the gentle caresses, the sweet words and actions, the delightful kiss that you had managed to just have the time to experience with Yunho. You were seeing your character in an entirely new light, already having reworked some ideas for the possible special event outfits and spammed your close colleagues who were working on the storyline with some ideas about how Yunho could have even better depth and as such, engagement from prospective users. Perhaps for this meeting with authority you just needed to tap into your delusions and it would be good enough - at least they were productive for once. 

While you were setting up the presentation, the rest of your immediate team began to file in, giving you excited waves that you returned with an unprecedented warmth. Pleasant chatter, discussion of possibility, mention of just how special it was that this dating simulator game project was the one the CEO had chosen to see today… you were feeling confident. Whoever this person was going to be, you were going to give your best and-

The door opened. Heads turned. Greetings, bows - all forms of politeness that could be expressed being delivered. People standing up, while you stood up taller by the board, the title slide behind you. You raised your head, only for time to slow down and freeze entirely. Your hold on the clicker tightened, and the only person aside from you who existed at that moment was the newcomer. The CEO. Greeting others with a smile and with equally as elegant bows. Every bit the gentleman in his tailored suit, hair swept back and impeccably styled. Jeong Yunho.

This had to be some kind of joke, right? Was this a dream? The stinging remaining after you pinched your arm slapped you back into reality. No. This Yunho was definitely real. But who was the one you-... the one you started dating? The one who you were way more than colleagues or friends with? Before your mind could accelerate into panicked rumination, his gaze stopped at you, and you could sense everyone else’s attention drift to you too. You were under his spotlight. Melting under what was nothing but kindness in his eyes.

“L/N Y/N, right? I heard a lot about you,” his grin was making you dizzy, memories of his taste resurfacing and sending heat to your cheeks, giving them a light dusting of pink.

“Good things, I hope?” you managed, he chuckled, and sent you a wink before sitting down on his chair.

“The best. I am really looking forward to this,” a playful tease.

“Glad to know this.”

“I heard you made quite a few new developments, how did that happen?” you knew what he was getting at, and that made you feel secure. So it was the same Yunho. That precious Yunho who had confessed to you, the one who had come to life and was now part of yours, by some odd twist of fate had appeared in your company, and was now right in front of you, eager and in love. You smirked while twisting to check the slide one last time, well aware that his only focus ever would be you.

“Came to me in a dream.”

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[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 80)

The first step in a long list was to set up a lab outside the bunker. N and V helping to move debris and burned out vehicles from the area right outside. And a small team of workers setting up temporary shelters to work in and hooking it up to the main power grid.

Uzi did her part, standing over a map with the locations of each landing pod, there were around ten of them within salvaging range, in various conditions ranging from utterly destroyed to lightly damaged.

“We'll start with the pod in the corpse spire. It's the most intact, since I've already attempted some repairs.” The building she was standing in was made from thin scrap metal, welded together hastily to serve as a planning room. Tera was sitting on the edge of the table, eyes darting to the 20 or so people huddled around her mother and the map.

It had only taken exactly 24 hours for them to set up this rudimentary workshop, she hadn't been joking when she'd said workers were incredibly efficient in large groups.

Even so, the inside of the building was still drafty, and some snow still found it's way inside. It didn't matter, it still served it's purpose well enough.

“We still have that big ass fork lift?” She asked into the room, and a drone behind her with white eyelights gave her a curt nod.

“Good, we'll need it to move the pod.” She circled the closest pod on the map- the corpse spire. Eyes a certain degree of determined as she sighed.

She was working with Khan’s team of engineers, the ones most experienced with doing something this large or complex. Even so, she still felt weird being the one basically in charge.

“Right, need to get that lift out here, then we'll head out to recover the pod.” At that, several people left; presumably to make good on that request. While a few more fluttered around the planning room, sealing up holes in the thin walls or writing on notebooks.

She wasn't used to giving orders, and she certainly wasn't used to people following them without much question. This was her plan, and she was really the best drone to see it through due to her previous work on the pod, but that didn't mean she wasn't incredibly nervous about leading a team. She'd only ever worked by herself.

A small knock on the empty doorframe caught her attention and she looked back, finding N hovering there, covered in a dusting of rust and a thin veneer of old motor oil.

“All the cars are moved. V said she was going to do a sweep to make sure the perimeter is secure. Need anything?” He smiled tiredly, though it was significantly less full of poorly hidden dread. With a job to do and a plan made, there was definitely more hope behind his visor.

“Nothing other then more sleep.” She replied bitterly, though her ire more directed towards the situation then him. She felt his radiating heat come closer and she had to fight against the urge to lean back into him and curl up into it.

“You sure? What about a break? You've been up on your feet for hours.” His tone grew more soft, and it now drew the attention of a couple of her team members from their tasks, they very unsubtlely tried to hide either behind a notebook or another task, but she could see the soft smiles and knowing looks.

“I'm fine, I'll take a break when we get the first pod in…” She waved him off, not wanting to be soft in front of her team. She'd already exposed herself once, live on stage. That wasn't about to happen again.

“Uzi that could take all night, plus, it's going to be sunrise soon, we can't be out here.” She blinked, oh yeah, she hadn't thought of that, her N and V were limited to nighttime hours, it was lucky that nights on Copper-9 were rather long, but it still put a crunch on things.

“Sh-” She looked at Tera, who was now looking at her curiously, Uzi grumbled as she censored herself, knowing that Tera was beginning to pick up more words. “Shoot. I forgot, how long do we have?”

“About an hour.” He replied, and she groaned. That wasn't nearly enough time to do what she wanted. She'd really wanted to get started on reverse engineering the first pod ASAP.

“Dang it. Ugh, okay… my feet are starting to hurt anyway…” She admitted sheepishly, which was true, she'd had to start shifting her weight differently do to her increased weight, putting pressure on her feet and back.

And, like the gentleman N was, he took that opportunity to quite literally sweep her off her feet. Picking her up bridal style in a single swift motion that had her let out a yelp.

The drones around her started to snicker, amused at N's open affection and Uzi's flushed, upset expression in return, an extremely violet blush invading her face.

“I can walk N!” She protested, feeling much too vulnerable for the public eye.

“What? It's not like everyone doesn't already know.” N smirked, which had the effect of making her more flustered, especially when the team she was supposed to be overseeing were now giggling at her expense.

“Bite me!” She seethed, crossing her arms before slumping in defeat, there was no escaping N's iron grip. She was taking a break, unwillingly.

“Uh, when the others get back, can you guys tell them we'll get the pod tomorrow night?” She fumbled over her request, mostly because N was still holding her as she made it, so much for garnering respect…

“Sure thing boss.” Someone relayed, giving her a small two fingered salutea while smirking. Uzi growled in indignation, and Tera pounced into her open arms half a second later with an excited trill.

“Let's just go before I die of embarrassment…” She mumbled, burying her head into his shoulder as N laughed, walking out of the small temporary structure and unsheathing his wings with a startling crack.

He went off the the direction of their nest, wind rushing and snow blowing past the family as he streaked through the air at high speeds, she could hear Tera laughing excitedly, but Uzi just gripped her tighter, making sure she wouldn't fall.

They were at the nest in less then ten minutes, N gently laying her within it's warm, safe, confines. Checking the heavy sheets put over the windows to block out even the slightest bit of cold.

Despite her indignation, she quickly relaxed, the muscles that now helped support her back beginning to decompress and her tail freeing itself without much conscious input.

Absent-mindedly, she tapped her own core, giving out a yelp as it shocked her with a tiny white spark, the core was sensitive duh. But now it was even more sensitive, becoming uncomfortable even with just the sensation of her clothing rubbing up against it.

It wasn't like she was going to wear her loose, low hanging shirts while in public though, so power through it she did.

“You good?” N asked after he did his obligatory ‘nest checks’. It seemed instinctual for him to make sure everything in the surrounding area was safe before he settled down with her, now joining beside her.

Tera crawled and rolled around the nest, taking pillows and throwing them small distances before attempting to chase after them on all fours. Easily entertaining herself.

“Y-yeah. Just startled myself. My core is getting super sensitive…” She hummed, curling up into N's comforting warmth the second she was able, purring softly when she felt N's fingers run through her hair.

“Is that… normal?” He asked, he assumed yes, she wasn't freaking out about it.

“Yup. Just another lovely symptom…” She deadpanned, feeling a yawn overtake her. She hadn't slept a wink during the construction of the workshop, nor any after she'd accidentally announced her pregnancy to the whole bunker.

“You should rest. It's not healthy for you or the baby to stay awake this long.” He hummed, she could feel his tail curl around hers, the beating of his core the perfect lullaby.

“Only if you actually sleep this time.” Uzi replied, and N chuckled, ignoring the way his core felt like lead or his visor angerly blinked that he needed to recharge. He'd tried, he just couldn't! His processors wouldn't let him go to sleep where something could sneak up on them.

“I'll try lovely.” The term of endearment made her curl up tighter into his chest and he sighed as he watched her drift off into sleep mode. His purrs, his tail and his warmth perfectly curated to relax his chosen mate.

Instead, he watched his kit play with a fond smile. Even if he couldn't sleep, he felt satisfied that he could at least keep then safe.

At least… until he heard a loud clang hit the side of the nest and he immediately detangled himself from her, growling louder then he'd ever had before in his life.

His processors were screaming again;

This was their nest! This was a special place, it was for his mate and her alone!

He came teeth bared and claws unseathed, a great territorial roar ringing out of his chest and his eyes in a vibrant red ‘X’. And the uncontrolled slashing of his claw was met with a sword, clashing against each other with a clatter.

V had narrowly avoided getting her head slashed off. Her eyelights hollow as she stared at him, the red drained from his visor and his thoughts returned from primal and erratic.

“V?”

“Holy fuck, you nearly took my head off!” She exclaimed, hanging off the side of the building much like he was.

“I-I'm sorry,, I don't know what came over me…” He blinked, the sudden outburst of uncharacteristic rage being gone in an instant.

“I think that was my fault… I snuck up on you.” She admitted, he could see her visibly relax, her head dipped inside the sheets, eyes falling on a still sleeping Uzi and an energetic kit.

“Is… there room for another? I uh… don't feel comfortable leaving you two out here alone.” Her tail was kinking as if just asking was uncomfortable for her.

N sighed, looking at the tint of purple beginning to crest of the horizon.

“There's not enough time for you to go anywhere if I said no.”

Not that he would've, despite his initial, very territorial reaction, V's presence was extremely welcome, a second drone to keep watch for threats.

He moved a sheet back with his tail to invite her in, and she gave him an uncertain smile as she crawled inside, eyes taking a scan around the nest as if she was memorizing it.

Tera threw herself on her, chirping loudly: “Vee!”

N curled himself around Uzi once more, this time however, sleep mode tugged on his visor, and he looked up at V, displaying how exhausted he was unintentionally.

“I got this one. That's why I'm here… I think?” She hummed, and with that conformation he quickly lost consciousness. V laying herself close to- but a respectful distance away from, the slumbering couple.

Next ->

[m1ckeyb3rry]

── PEREGRINE // PROLOGUE

Series Synopsis: The ways that you and Seishiro Nagi fall together and fall apart over the years.

Chapter Synopsis: You are invited to the wedding of an old friend.

Series Masterlist

Pairing(s): Nagi x Reader, Kira x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.1k

Content Warnings: unhealthy relationships, cheating, non-linear narrative, probably ooc, angst, nagi is endgame, kira sucks, alternate universe, original characters

A/N: literally shaking as i post this because i have NOT been in the bllk fandom for long enough to be writing a fic for it but oh well #livelaughlove. some authors post new stories because they’re proud of their work. i post new stories because then when i write like shit i disappoint less people.

divider credits: @/benkeibear

Seishiro Nagi had always been beautiful when he ran, albeit atypical in his form. He lacked the fierceness that the others on his team had, his feet never pounding against the turf the way theirs did, his strides never swallowing the ground in quite that same manner. Instead, his steps were light, like he was dancing, or perhaps flying, like he was a falcon diving across the field in pursuit of his next goal.

He was the only thing that could unite your entire miserable, shitty town. Everyone was outside that day, crowding in restaurants to crane their necks at the little screen in the corner, pressing together in the square to peer up at the projection of the tied match, which only had a few minutes left to go before the end of the second half.

Nagi had the ball. You weren’t really sure how he had gotten it, who had passed it to him or what maneuver he had used to get around the other team’s defense, but it was all irrelevant. He had the ball, and as he barreled towards the other team's goalkeeper, the entire town held its breath.

Even you, who were never supposed to have much interest in soccer nor in Seishiro Nagi, found yourself worrying your lower lip between your teeth, leaning forward slightly, clenching your fists by your sides.

“Come on, Nagi,” you murmured. “We’re so close. Come on.”

A few more steps and a strategic feint, and then he had made it behind the defenders. The town swelled with anticipation as victory became all but certain, as the clock ticked nearer and nearer to the moment when Nagi would pull off one of those impossible moves of his, where he would slam the ball into the net and win the game for his team once again.

But the moment never came. For some reason, right as he drew his leg back to shoot, Nagi froze. His foot never connected with the ball; instead, it slowly came back down to rest as he stared down at his muddy cleats.

“What is he doing?” someone said. The cheers turned to whispers as Nagi proved himself to be a statue, incapable of moving, of defending his possession, of scoring, of anything. He just stood there, and as one of the defenders stole the ball off of him and passed it to the opposing team’s striker, he did not make any attempts to turn around and make up for his mistake. He just stood there, contemplating something, a cloudy dreaminess settling over his eyes. It was the most disconcerting thing you had ever seen, that complete apathy in face of an imminent loss, that resignation to an eventuality which he himself had created.

“What the hell is wrong with him?” a man screamed, and then it was a mass chaos as the people who had been praising Nagi only seconds earlier turned to baying for his blood, demanding he never play again as a punishment for his great sin.

They got their wish. The next season, and the next, Seishiro Nagi spent every match on the bench, not even afforded the role of a substitute, no matter how tired the rest of the team grew without his relentless presence, how many games they lost when they did not have him to rely on.

That first season after his disastrous loss, he was made a mockery of. Every single news article was about his downfall, every reporter charting out with glee the exact moment that he had gone from the media’s darling to their newest scapegoat. By the second season, though, he was largely forgotten. There were more exciting things, newcomers who had entered the league and dominated matches with their own unique styles, and so when it became clear that Nagi would not give them the reactions that they were hoping for, the journalists turned to talking about those players instead.

After that, he stopped going to games entirely.

There was another woman in your bed. You could hear her shuffling footsteps, the way your fiancé hushed her, her giggles as she ducked into some hiding spot or another, likely behind his neatly pressed work suits. You could picture it now — such a domestic scene it must’ve been. His arm, wrapped around her shoulders as he guided her to the closet. Her fingers, still working themselves free from his light hair. His eyes, a bright amber that would be glimmering from the thrill of the near-miss. Her cheeks, which would be flushed from the shame of your early return home.

You sighed, pursing your lips and then undoing the knot of the ribbon holding together the bouquet of flowers in your hand. Pouring a cup of water into a crystal vase, you arranged the flowers carefully in it, making sure you did not prick your fingers on the thorny stems as you waited for your fiancé to come thundering down to greet you.

“Y/N! I didn’t think you’d be home so early!” he said, leaping off the bottom stair and waltzing into the kitchen, discreetly wiping his hands against his pants.

“Hey, Ryosuke,” you said. “No worries. I was actually just about to head out again; I had thought I’d wash the sheets tonight, but I think we’re out of detergent, so I’m going to run to the store and grab some.”

“Ah, okay,” he said. “How long do you think you’ll be?”

“About an hour,” you said. “I think I’ll stop by Chigiri’s on the way back.”

“Chigiri’s?” he said, raising his eyebrows. “What do you need from him?”

It was ironic. There the two of you were, both pretending like he wasn’t hiding a third in your bedroom, and yet you were the one who was facing his accusations, who was under suspicion for no other reason than because you wanted to visit your friend.

“I lent him our blender because his broke, remember?” you said. “I was going to see if he’s gotten a replacement yet or not.”

“I see,” he said, relaxing only slightly. “Well, don’t delay on my part, I guess. See you soon?”

“See you,” you said. “I’ll text you when I’m about ten minutes away. If you could warm up the leftovers in the fridge, I’d appreciate it. I’m a little hungry.”

“Of course,” he said. “Bye!”

“Bye,” you said. Once, he would’ve pressed a kiss to your cheek, or maybe even to your lips, but now, he only waved at you before bounding back up the stairs, calling out some excuse about folding his laundry over his shoulder. You watched him go for a moment, wishing you could chase after him and demand he love you again, demand he love you the way he used to, but it would be pointless. You were unconvinced that things would ever be that way again.

One of the lights in the store near your house was broken. It would flicker back to life periodically, struggling to stay lit, but its attempts were stuttered and pitifully in vain. It worsened the migraine building behind your temples, and you narrowed your eyes as you reached the laundry aisle and picked up the cheapest, smallest bottle of detergent you could find.

“You should get that light fixed,” you said to the cashier. He didn’t even look like he was out of high school yet, and as he scanned the bottle, he muttered something about how you should’ve just used the self-checkout line instead.

“I’ll tell my manager,” he said when it became clear that you were waiting for a response. “Cash or card?”

“Card,” you said, tapping it against the screen and signing your name with the attached stylus. “I don’t need a bag.”

“Have a nice day,” he said robotically, mechanically. “Next!”

The woman behind you, who was juggling a screaming baby, a whining child, and a week’s worth of groceries, began to try and empty her cart, but her child kept tugging at her arms and her baby kept crying and she kept dropping things, so it was altogether a pointless effort. The cashier let out an aggravated sigh, barely even sparing you a nod as you tucked the detergent in your pocket.

You furrowed your brow as you watched the woman, wondering if that was to be your future. Once you married Ryosuke, once you became Mrs. Kira, then wouldn’t children be the natural next step? Certainly, that’s what your parents would say.

“Hey,” you said to the child, tapping her on the head as she pulled on her mother’s sleeve once more. Upon feeling your touch against her hair, she froze, looking up at you with wide eyes. “I really like your hairstyle. Did you do it yourself?”

Her hair had been tied into two pigtails and then messily plaited, small pink bows decorating the end of each braid and matching her shirt. She peered at you owlishly, confused enough to quiet down for a moment. Her mother shot you a grateful look as her one hand was freed so that she could start to actually deal with her groceries.

“My mommy did it,” the girl said, stumbling over her words. “For school.”

“It’s very smart,” you said. “I bet everyone in your class was jealous.”

The girl thought about this before nodding. “Yeah, they were.”

“I’m glad I finished school already,” you said, pretending to shiver. “If I hadn’t, then I wouldn’t have known what to do if you showed up looking like that!”

“Did your mommy not do your hair for you?” the girl said. You thought back to your own mother, your own days at school, and then you shook your head.

“She tried,” you said. “But no matter how elaborate the hairstyles she gave me were, they could never measure up to what you have right now.”

“Why not?” she said.

“Because,” you said. “I think your mother worked really hard on them, and that’s the most important thing. You should remember to say thank you to her when you can.”

“I always say please and thank you,” she said proudly, beaming at you, her two front teeth missing. “Mommy says it’s good manners.”

“Those are very good manners,” you agreed. “Now, it looks like your mother’s done with checking out. Let’s go to the car with her, alright?”

The girl nodded and darted ahead to grab her mother’s hand. Her mother sighed, going to free her hand from her daughter’s grip, but you stopped her.

“I’ve got it,” you said, picking up her grocery bags in both hands and nodding at the door. “Which way is your car? I’ll walk you there.”

“Oh, you — you don’t have to!” she said, fumbling in the face of the offer. “I can do it.”

“I don’t doubt you can,” you said. “But you shouldn’t have to. I’ll follow after you.”

Maybe it wasn’t the wisest decision for the woman to trust a stranger, but there was a sort of bone-deep exhaustion burrowing into her that must’ve made her accept the offer. So she only nodded at you and began to stride towards her car, unlocking it and opening the trunk so that you could put the groceries in it while she buckled her children into their respective car seats.

When she was distracted, you snuck the laundry detergent into one of the bags. It wasn’t as if you needed it; you had just gotten some the other day, and that had been the brand you preferred, too. The entire outing had just been an excuse for you to leave the house for enough time that Ryosuke’s new girl of the week could sneak out, as if she had never been there in the first place.

“Thank you so much for your help,” she said when you pressed the button to shut the trunk, stepping back and watching it slowly lower. “Er, what’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you said, offering her your hand. She accepted it, shaking it so furiously it was a wonder your arm did not fly off.

“Thank you so much, Y/N. They’re so exhausting to bring along, but I have no other choice. I know it must be so irritating to the other shoppers, but…” she trailed off in defeat, her head hanging low. “I really do have no other choice. My husband’s always busy, and we can’t quite afford a babysitter or a nanny or anything like that, so they’re always with me.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “You have the right to be there, too. I hope you can always find help when you need it.”

“Thank you,” she said again. “You, too.”

“Thanks!” you said, waving at her as you made your way to your own car, only allowing your smile to drop once you were far enough that she wouldn’t notice the way it had disappeared.

You spent the drive to Chigiri’s in silence, muting the radio and amusing yourself with watching the street lamps turn on as it grew progressively darker out, their orange glows piercing through the misty night like cheerful planets, so at odds with your glum mood.

Wouldn’t Ryosuke be like that? Because of that one chance encounter, you could envision your future so clearly. It would be exactly the life that that woman led. You would have those children that he and your parents had always wanted, and you would care for them, and all the while, he would run around and sleep with any girl he could get into his bed, his existence entirely unaffected even as yours had been wrecked.

“So,” Chigiri said, stirring a spoonful of honey into the tea he had prepared for himself, his right leg extended on the coffee table before him. “When’s your wedding with that peacock bastard, anyways?”

You took a sip of the tea he had so graciously made for you before responding, taking the moment to mull over what you’d say as the liquid scalded your tongue.

“Lately, it seems like that’s all anyone ever asks me,” you said.

“It’s a pretty typical question to ask someone who’s engaged,” he said.

“That’s true,” you said. “Well, I don’t know when it is. We haven’t picked a date or made any concrete plans yet.”

“Geez, what was the point of proposing, then?” he said.

“You’ll be the first to hear when it happens,” you said.

“Really? Not Reo?” he said. You considered this.

“The second to hear,” you amended. He pretended to scowl at you, though it was half-heartedly done.

“I can’t believe it,” he said. “Though, I guess it does kind of make sense. Nobody hates Kira as much as I do, so you’d probably want to share the news with someone a bit more supportive.”

“It’s about time you let old grudges die,” you said. Chigiri glanced at his right leg before shaking his head.

“No way,” he said. “I’ll never forgive him.”

“It wasn’t even his fault,” you said weakly, though you knew it was just another rendition of the same argument you and he had had so many times before, the same argument that the two of you would probably keep having until you both stopped being friends altogether.

It was bound to happen. There was no way that you could stay friends with Chigiri in any way that lasted. Not as you were currently. Not as who you would soon become. That kind of person didn’t deserve to be friends with someone like Chigiri, who was always so bright and gentle, who even now was frowning slightly because of you.

“Whatever,” he said. “I won’t bring it up at your wedding. That’s the best I can give you.”

You thought that you should probably smile or thank him, but the thought of your impending wedding caused a lump to form in your throat, and it was all you could do to swallow it back without tears forming in your eyes. You gulped down the tea, hissing when it burnt your mouth, glad for the tears which sprang to your eyes and disguised the moment of weakness.

“Sorry,” you said to Chigiri, who only snorted and handed you a napkin to dab at your lips with. “Speaking of which, do you think you’d be okay with wearing a dress and being one of my bridesmaids? I’m woefully lacking in the department.”

“No,” Chigiri said. “Please, make some friends. It’ll actually be embarrassing if you have no one on your side of the wedding.”

“Sorry, but some of us had better things to do in high school than socializing,” you said, tossing a pillow at him. He caught it in one hand and glared at you before chucking it back, full-force. It landed at your side, narrowly avoiding smashing into your face, and then it was your turn to glare at him.

“For your information, I also had better things to do, but somehow, I made time to get to know people,” he said.

“Oh, yeah? Name three of your friends,” you said. He opened his mouth, but you stopped him before he could speak. “Not me, not Reo, and not May.”

He closed his mouth. “Okay, you got me there. Maybe I was more focused on soccer than I realized…”

“Maybe,” you said, though your tea suddenly tasted sour at the mention of soccer.

“I’ll wear a dress if you’ll wear a suit and draw on a mustache at my wedding,” he offered.

“Um, no,” you said.

“Then I guess we’ll both be embarrassed,” he said.

“That’s even assuming you find someone you like enough to propose to, and that that person says yes,” you said.

“I will!” he said. “Just you wait. I’ll make you eat your words!”

“Whatever you say,” you said. “I still think you’re going to die alone, by the way.”

“Better than living with that excuse for a man that you plan on marrying,” he said.

Just like everything else regarding your relationship with Ryosuke, your protests were false and weak. You didn’t mean them. In fact, you even agreed with Chigiri, but if you didn’t speak up, then who would? If you didn’t say something, then all of the time you had spent with him would’ve been a waste. Everything would’ve been a waste, and that was something you could not allow.

“I’m back!” you called out as you re-entered the house, though you knew that even Ryosuke wasn’t foolish enough to risk being caught when he had had so many advance warnings and so much time to prepare for your arrival.

“There she is!” he said, grinning up at you from the dining table, not even a guilty twinge to his words as he spoke — not that you had been expecting any. “Your food’s on the counter, babe.”

“Looks good,” you said, picking up the plate and sitting across from him, picking at the pasta with a fork, pushing it around without lifting any, unable to bring yourself to actually eat it. “You didn’t have to cook, though. There was stuff in the fridge.”

“I know, but I wanted to,” he said. “Can’t I do nice things for my favorite girl every now and then?”

You knew what that clever wordplay implied. His favorite girl, but not his only. You supposed he must’ve been proud of it, of that private joke made for an audience of exactly one.

“I guess there’s no reason why you can’t,” you said. “It’s good.”

“Anytime,” he said. “Now, listen, I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh?” you said, preparing yourself for him to say that he wanted to move again or that he wanted to get rid of your cat or something equally as preposterous, as he often did when he started his sentence off with that particular phrase. “And what about?”

“We’ve been engaged for a while,” he said.

“Yes,” you said cautiously, internally cursing Chigiri, believing that he must’ve spoken this entire conversation into existence with his playful inquiries from earlier.

“So we should probably pick a date for the wedding and start preparing for it and all, don’t you think?” he said.

No, you wanted to scream at him. No, I don’t think so. I don’t want to. Nothing has to change. Don’t let it change.

You were saved from having to answer by your cell phone ringing. Without apologizing, you picked up, because there were very few people who would ever call you, and almost all of them were more important than Ryosuke.

“Y/N L/N,” a familiar voice said. Every bit of despair which had crept over you vanished in an instant at that sound, and this time when you smiled, it wasn’t forced.

“Reo!” you said. Ryosuke frowned, but you ignored him. “How late is it over there?”

“It’s early, actually, but it’s okay. I was waking up to go to the gym, anyways, and I figured I’d call you while I’m at it,” he said.

“That makes sense. What’s up?” you said.

“Can’t I just have called you because I miss you so much?” he said.

“You could have, but you wouldn’t,” you said. “What’s the real reason?”

“You’re annoying,” he said.

“Mhm,” you said.

“Fine, yes, I was calling you for a reason, but I do also miss you a lot, so don’t think I don’t!” he said.

“I wouldn’t dare,” you said.

“You know how I proposed to May a couple of years ago?” he said.

“I was there,” you reminded him. “And by the way, you’re lucky I was! The whole reason I went to college abroad was so that I had an excuse to never return to that place, so for you to go back and live there has really been inconvenient.”

“I can’t help that this is where our corporation’s headquarters are,” he said awkwardly. “I kind of have to live here.” You scoffed.

“Whatever. I’m not going to visit again, so if that’s what you’re calling about, then you might as well hang up,” you said.

“Seriously? Nothing can convince you to come?” he said, letting out a chuckle, the cocksure one he had inherited from his father. It was the one thing you hated most about him, but he had never managed to break the habit, no matter how many times you pointed it out.

“Nope,” you said. “Nothing.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Ryosuke said. You waved him off dismissively, mouthing tell you later at him when he pouted grumpily.

“Not even your own best friend’s wedding?” he pressed. You paused, taken aback by the sudden turn.

“What?” you squealed. “Like, an official wedding? You have the day picked out and all?”

“Calm down, woman, it’s not that serious,” he said. You could hear his wince through the phone, but you were too excited to care.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you said.

“So, funny thing, that’s actually what I’m doing right now,” he said. You clicked your tongue.

“Shut up,” you said. “I can’t believe you’re actually getting married. It feels like just yesterday I was introducing the two of you.”

“I know,” he said fondly. “We’ve been arguing the whole time about whose side of the wedding party you’ll be on. At the moment, I think I’m winning, but I don’t know how long that’ll last.”

“You guys just assumed I would come?” you said.

“Will you not?” he said. You glanced at Ryosuke, who raised his eyebrows at you.

“Give me a second,” you said.

“Okay, I’ll be waiting,” he said. You put the phone on mute and set it on the table.

“Reo and May are getting married,” you said. “Soon. They want me to come.”

“Of course they would. You’re best friends with both of them,” Ryosuke said. You waited for him to reassure you, to tell you that he knew it would be hard for you to go back to your hometown but that the two of you could get through it together. However, he didn’t. You weren’t even sure why you had waited in the first place. You had known that he wasn’t that person anymore for a very long time now. Maybe it was just an old habit that you couldn’t let die quite yet. Maybe you would always be waiting for him.

“I should go, then,” you said.

“Obviously,” he said. “And I’ll come this time.”

“Naturally,” you said, because it would raise too many questions if you didn’t bring your fiancé to your best friend’s wedding. It had been bad enough when he hadn’t come with you the last time, but you had managed to soothe everyone’s concerns with stories about work being too much, how he would’ve loved to visit but had such a strict boss that he just couldn’t.

As per usual, those had all been lies. You had been the one to demand he stay back. You didn’t tell him the reason, because it hardly made sense to you, but the truth was that the thought of Ryosuke walking through the streets that had once belonged to someone else was counterintuitive. Wrong. Those steps were not his to make. That secret was not his to tarnish.

“What’s the verdict?” Reo said when you unmuted the phone and held it back up to your ear. Ryosuke leaned over and gathered your dishes, taking them with his own and turning on the sink, running them under the water, drowning out the sound of your voice.

“Don’t ask that as if you don’t know the answer, idiot,” you said. “It seems you got lucky once again. I’ll be there, and so will Ryosuke.”

Reo choked audibly. “Ryosuke? Do you mean Kira?”

“We’ve been engaged longer than you and May have. Don’t you think it would be a little weird if I still called him by his surname?” you said.

“That’s true. I was just surprised you’re still with him, but I shouldn’t have been. Sorry,” he said. “Is he going to be your plus one?”

“Again, he is my fiancé,” you said, glancing over to where he was humming to himself as he scrubbed the sauce off of the plates. Your heart panged at the sight. Sometimes, you thought that you were being unfair to him. You would hate and hate him, and then he would do something that would remind you why you had ever loved him in the first place. “Who else would I bring?”

“I don’t know, Chigiri?” he said. “You talk about him way more than you do Kira.”

“He’s my friend,” you said. “I just spend more time with him.”

“Hey, it’s not my business. If you want to have an affair, then that’s your prerogative. Although, given the history between those two, Chigiri might not be the best choice…” he said.

“You suck,” you said as he burst into laughter.

“Kidding, kidding. Anyways, May beat me to inviting Chigiri, so he couldn’t be your plus one regardless, since he’s a traitor,” he said.

“Who says I won’t decide to be on May’s side after all?” you said. “She’d probably make me her maid of honor.”

“Uh,” Reo said. “If that’s the case, then you should definitely be on my side.”

“Why is that?” you said.

“I mean, you know how the maid of honor and the best man usually spend a lot of time together?” he said nervously.

“Sure,” you said, although you really didn’t, considering you hadn’t been invited to very many weddings before, and certainly none where you had been the maid of honor.

“Well, there’s no gentle way to put this,” he said.

“Just spit it out,” you said.

“Um, just know that I really love you a lot,” he said. “But I already picked my best man.”

“How is that something you’d need to put gently? Considering my lack of ‘man’ qualifications, I wasn’t exactly expecting to get the role,” you said.

“It’s Nagi.”

Unbidden, your eyebrows shot up in surprise, but your initial burst of shock quickly settled, and you realized it made enough sense that you shouldn’t really question it. “Okay.”

“I know you guys didn’t get along in high school and all, but he was the only one I could think of,” Reo said.

“Okay,” you said.

“But you’re my best friend, too, and don’t you dare forget that!” he continued.

“Reo,” you said, but he was too busy rambling to notice.

“Just please get along with him. For my sake! And May’s, if you decide to be her maid of honor,” he said.

“Reo,” you tried again.

“You don’t even have to be friends! Just mutually ignore one another or something, it’ll go much smoother that way. Or, well, if you’re the maid of honor and he’s the best man, I guess you can’t really ignore one another, so that’s a dilemma…wait, I know! You can treat him like he’s just one of your coworkers—”

“Reo!” you said, finally growing frustrated enough to cut him off. “It’s okay. High school was years ago. Neither of us is going to let the past impact the present, I’m sure. You have more important things to be stressing out about; this shouldn’t even be on your list of worries, man. You’re getting married!”

“You promise?” he said.

“Promise,” you said.

“I’m serious. I don’t want any fights or anything. Whatever hatred you had for him, put it behind you,” he said.

“I did that already,” you said. “Many years past. I’m not a teenage girl anymore. People from back then don’t bother me.”

“Not even your parents?” he said.

“Low blow, Mr. Mikage,” you said. But of course, he didn’t even know the half of it, so how could you blame him for what he had surely believed to be a harmless joke? “I don’t know. I haven’t talked to them in a while, either.”

“Have they even met Kira yet?” he said.

“No,” you said.

“Great, then you can introduce him to them! It’ll be a double-win type of trip,” he said.

“Right,” you said. He sounded so happy that you couldn’t bear to tell him the truth, that the thought of introducing Ryosuke to your parents was actually akin to torture. Besides, what would he do if you did tell him? It was something he could never comprehend.

“Now I can’t wait!” he said.

“Me, either,” you said. “And Reo?”

“Yes?”

“Tell May I’m choosing her side,” you said.

“What? You seriously want to risk possibly being the maid of honor, even after everything I told you?” he said.

You thought about what the role might entail. Who the role might entail. And then you looked over at Ryosuke, who was putting the leftover pasta back in the fridge. He locked eyes with you and then jokingly scrunched his nose. You thought you might’ve found it endearing when you had first met him.

“Yeah,” you said. “I do.”

[gremlin-bot]

The Trials and Tribulations of Summoning Your Boyfriend

This is based on this prompt from @stealingyourbones !  Hope y’all like it!

AO3 link!

Tag list-  @bewitched-forest @half-dead-ham @eyesofcrows

Tim wasn't up in the watchtower much. It's the Justice League's base and he had his own city and team to take care of (even if said team is a branch of the Justice League and he shared responsibility of Gotham with his family). All of that is to say that when he and other available members of the League were called to the watchtower, it was bad.

Tim was expecting a world ending threat. What he wasn't expecting was a summoning circle and a portion of Justice League Dark to be there. John Constantine and a summoning circle always means bad news, it's even worse that Zatanna and Captain Marvel are there helping. What kind of threat is it to warrant this? All of this is topped off with superman wheeling in a projector to the training room they are all set up in.

Bruce steps up next to the projector. He looks extremely tired, not that most people could tell but a bird knows the bat well. As Bruce turns on the machine, Constantine takes his place next to him with a book bound in leather that holds pages that glow a slight green. 

"I called you all here because of this creature attacking Central City." Projected on the wall is a blurry image of a black dragon with a purple underbelly, its whole body glowing.

"Justice League Dark was able to identify it as from a place called the Infinite Realms. They have advised us to not engage and to evacuate everyone we can from the whole city. The Flash has started that. Half of you will join him, as indicated by folders Superman is handing out. The other half will be here to help with the solution that Constantine is handling."  

As Bruce directs those in the evacuation group, Constantine takes over the debrief. "The beast in Central City is a bitch to take care of and the solution is even worse. You boy scouts are here to make sure everything doesn't go completely tits up. I hate to say this and hate fucking doing it even more, but we are trying to trying to summon the Ghost King." 

At that point Tim tuned out a bit. Usually he wouldn't have but he actually knows more about what's happening than Constantine does. Looking back at the creature still being projected, he can vaguely recognize it now. How did Aragon get out of the realms? Especially without being noticed by Da-

Tim was pulled out of his thoughts by Dick, who apparently was dragged here as well, brushing past him with a smirk. What a dick, going out of his way to mess with him. He really should get to where he was needed. 

Taking his place near the top of the summoning circle, he noticed how it was actually set up. It was wrong, completely and utterly wrong. The array was correct. It showed the right constellations and had the right places connected but the candles aren't on the circles that represent the planets, nor was the offering placed correctly. This wasn't going to summon anything. Too bad that Tim was going to let them try anyway. It's better than trying to correct it and explain why he knew it was wrong, plus where was the fun in that.

The other heroes settle into their places. The ones left were the Justice League's big three , the JLD members, Conner, Dick, and Tim himself. They all looked a little nervous and on edge in their own way, from Superman's clenched fists to Dicks never moving smile. Besides Tim who was a bit more relaxed than he really should be. He really should hide it a bit better.

Constantine reading from the book starts the summoning. Latin falling heavy from his lips, a wind that should not be possible in a satellite blows through the room, the candles' flame turns neon green. Everyone holds their breath as the chanting stops. The candles flicker once, twice, and nothing. The room quickly reverted to how it was before. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife.

"Bollocks." Constantine deflates. "Looks like this didn't work, we must have fucked up somewhere." 

"Why don't we explain how we set it up and go from there." Zatanna offers, gesturing for everyone to gather around her and Constantine. Tim stays back and waits for the rest to be distracted by figuring out what went wrong. He can tell that Bruce and Dick have noticed his distance from the others but they haven't done anything yet.

Once the distraction is set, Tim moves in front of the correct offering section of the array. Removing his glove and taking out a birdarang from his belt. He can hear the moment everyone notices the actions he has taken and the one about to come.

"Red Robin, step away from the summoning circle." Bruce demands with concern hidden in his voice. 

Tim doesn't listen. 

In the moment before anyone can get to him, Tim slashes his ring finger on his left hand. It wasn't deep per say but it definitely wasn't a paper cut. Blood flows out of the wound (almost like a ring), hitting the floor inside the offering ring of the array.

Several things happen at once. First, Dick who was the closest and was trying to grab him, stopped in his tracks along with everyone else. Second, the summoning changed. The first offering was ejected from its place, the crystals shattering. Candles slide at high speed, settling on the represented planets, their flames changing color. The summoning is like a loaded spring trap now. Tim grinning, sets the trap off.

"Alnilam, my love" dropped soft and sweet from Tim's lips with a crawling static buzz. Everyone could hear the buzzing honey intertwined with those words despite their low volume.

The stilled room stirred, yet no one but Tim himself had moved. A cold fog rolls out from the array, blowing a light breeze with it. The static can be felt in their scars, healed bones, all the near misses, and clipped hits. All close calls of the past haunt them in this moment. The room's lovely held in tension snaps as the soul deep buzz is pulled from them into the array. It spills into a Lazarus, toxic, death, neon green pool with small rippling waves that crest with reflection of the space that engulfs the watchtower. This rippling pool stretches upwards. Everyone struggles to move as they inch closer to Tim. As the liquid barely reaches the tall ceiling of the training room, gravity seems to take hold. It sloshes down, turning into a cool fog on impact. Leaving a being in its wake, that is kissing Tim's offered bloody hand.

Danny is in his full king garb. A black metal crown floats above his head surrounded by light similar to earth's aurora borealis. White hair glowing starlight complementing pale blue skin, that blushes the prettiest cyan, not that anyone but Tim can see that. Jewelry hanging from pointed ears and slender neck. His suit is hidden by a long cloak cut from the barrier between realities. The outside is the space outside the satellite with the interlining of a swirling Lazarus green peaking out as the end floats upward. 

Tim is grinning like a love struck fool and he knows it. This is so worth the lecture he will be getting from both Bruce and Dick. Danny raises his head, blood staining his lips as they stretch into a fanged grin just as love struck.

"Hey Red, uh what the fuck!?" Dick's voice snapped the two boys out of their own world and back into the one with everyone surrounding them with looks of concern and from certain people, bone deep exhaustion. Danny drops Tim's no longer bleeding hand, allowing Tim to turn to fully look at the group around them. Tim's grin is now one of mischief and secrets yet to be spoken. From the look on Bruce's face if Danny wasn't behind him he would be out of the watchtower and locked in the manor despite not living there anymore. Too bad that Constantine could give less of a fuck about what's going on between Danny and him.

"Your highness, we called your assistance because one of your subjects is causing trouble in the moral realm and-" as Constantine told and worked out what was going on, Danny moved so he was behind Tim, his arms loosely wrapped around Tim's neck and chin resting on top of his head. Danny was floating off the ground to do this. 

"Oh! That's Aragon, give me 10 minutes and he'll be out of your hair. There is no payment needed, I insist. But before that –'' Danny’s legs float up, flipping him to face Tim upsidedown. A grin that only means trouble for Tim sets on his pretty face. “Red, Babe, Love. You could have just called me if you wanted me to meet your dad and his superhero friends!” 

“Danny, I swear to the Ancients if you disappear –” Tim couldn’t finish the hollow threat as Danny gave him a peck on the cheek and disappeared from sight. Leaving Tim to the heroes, one being Bruce ‘Tim is my little princess’ Wayne and another is his very protective brother. 

Tim looks at his family members in the room, and wow, yeah he is not escaping the interrogation when they get back to the manor. Bruce is approaching him swiftly and looks as if he is going to grab him and never let go. Dick is no better, he has a shit eating grin with his wrist computer up and is already typing. Everyone is going to be there for the interrogation and Bruce's coddling, Tim just knows it. He's going to make Danny go back to the manor with him, he is not doing this alone. It's the least his boyfriend can do after leaving him to deal with this. It was still worth it, even if he has to flee to the Infinite Realms after all is said and done. He’ll just become a trophy husband for Danny and avoid his family at all costs in doing so.

"Red Robin, would you please explain what your relation is with the King of the Infinite Realms." Bruce is definitely in mama bear mode, he was never going to be let outside of the manor.

"I think there are more pressing matters at hand here, like how King Phantom is on his way to Central City and we have yet to inform anyone on the ground." Tim is stalling and everyone knows it, but he's not wrong.

Bruce grumbles about not knowing the king's name but still steps away from Tim and starts relaying the relevant information to the evacuation team. Dick is leaving him alone for the moment, probably waiting for more privacy. Conner on the other hand is trying to hold in his laughter at the situation he got himself into. Tim just glares at him, even if Conner can't see it under the domino. At this point he doesn't care what the rest of the League thinks, he just wants Danny back so they can face Bruce and the rest of his family like he (they) has been avoiding. 

Danny was quicker than his self-imposed time limit, taking 7 minutes instead of 10. Giving just enough time for Bruce to almost give an on the spot interrogation, almost being Tim's saving grace. Unlike Danny, who decides to drop his invisibility only after wrapping around Tim's torsos, his head and arms taking their previous places. 

"Your ghost problem is taken care of. I'll be taking Aragon back to the infinity realms, along with Red Robin here." Danny casually says, like it isn't kidnapping.

"Wait, what." Tim said in shocked silence.

"Well since you summoning me got me out of a meeting with the observants, it's a perfect time to go on a date, you know like all of our dates." Danny is saying these things on purpose and he better get them out of here quick before Bruce tackles them.

"You are a menace!" as Tim says this, ectoplasm begins to pool at their feet, spreading out making a barrier of open space around.

"A menace, you love!" Danny lovingly teases as a low rumble ripples from his core making Tim smile. This is the last thing the heroes hear before the couple drops out of the mortal realm and into the one of the dead.

[genderqueerdykes]

I really really appreciate the posts about fat acceptance and stuff. I used to be pretty underweight but I've definitely gained weight (and muscle too I'm sure) on HRT, the way it sits/distrubuted on me is something that is hard to see sometimes and there's a lot of parental commentary about fat people that needs to be worked on.

hey, you're welcome! i'm glad you agree

gaining weight isn't always bad, in fact for many people, it can be an outright blessing. people can have a wide variety of conditions that can lead them to being chronically underweight, and putting on even a few pounds was seen as a huge accomplishment and a safety net. my best friend is this way

even if it's not required for one's health, putting on weight isn't inherently bad. every person's body has a range in which it attempts to naturally sit for their baseline weight. this will vary greatly from person to person based off of activity levels, hormone levels, genetics, individual dietary needs vs. dietary intake, digestive issues, eating disorders, allergies, food intolerance, neurodivergence, developmental disorders, and more.

the way i see it is it becomes very obvious to a person when their weight has actually come to negatively affect them. this will be marked in a decline in energy, feeling fatigued and malaise most of the time, headaches, difficulty getting out of bed, increased chronic pain including pain while standing or walking, breathing difficulties, difficulty walking/moving long distances for reasons not due to joint or connective tissue health, becoming pre/diabetic suddenly if one was not before, and/or other health complications that were not present before the amount of weight was gained

most fat, chubby, etc. people are sitting well within the healthy range for their body without realizing it. our bodies are great at telling us what they need it's just hard to listen when we're busy, exhausted, and/or neurodivergent. many people have a good idea of what their body needs but get talked or shamed out of doing what's right for them. parents, like you said, are especially uptight and strict about weight for seemingly no reason.

i've always been fat my whole life. once i reached my teen years i began to hover around the 300 lb range and that's where i've always been. my mom was fat and so was my dad, and both of their families. my mom projected so much of her fatphobia on to me it was unreal. she would critcize me any time i wanted a snack by asking "you're eating again?" and other dumb shit. children are growing and active, they need a lot of food, especially for good brain function (yes, our brains need fuel, revolutionary concept, i know)

i don't understand why parents desperately NEED their children to be physically attractive to them. can we talk about this? i know it's uncomfortable but this is a huge parental issue. i am SO tired of hearing parents go ON AND ON about how "beautiful" or "handsome" their children are. it's extremely creepy, there's no reason to focus on their appearance like that. some parents become SO distressed when their children are not conventionally attractive, as if it makes them less attractive by proxy. it's insanely creepy. a child's conventional beauty or lack there of should be of no concern to a parent- why do some parents obsess over this? it gives the child severe body image issues and it's not a good level of vanity to project on to a kid

anyway, it's okay to be fat, especially if you find you're not struggling with pain or mobility. some people will have pain and mobility issues no matter what weight they're at. everyone's different. someone's weight is their own concern and nobody else's, unless there is medical significance in which case it is between them and their medical team. not every fat person has health issues due to their weight, in fact, most do not. it's okay to let your body be the weight it wants to be

nobody should have to constantly feel like they have to be fighting their own biology just to look "more attractive". people are attractive when they look the most like their real, natural selves. it's way more flattering and it's better for the individual. don't expect other people to go through hell just to look "good". just let people be themselves. let people feel good, and feel good about themselves. worry about yourselves when it comes to appearance

anyway, thank you for the feedback, i really appreciate it! i will always be here for other fat folk because i've gone through many interesting situations with diet and health and my weight always sits around the 300 mark give or take 20 lbs in either direction. my lowest weight as an adult was 260 lbs. my highest was 360. muscle tissue plays a huge factor in this right now for me. i have clothes in my closet that range from literally Small all the way up to XXXL and they all fit me just fine. weight isn't as big of a deal as people think it is, it's a very neutral thing most of the time

[lucy90712]

morning cuddles with João Felix?

A/n: this is short but I think it’s cute

WC: 1.2k Life recently has been so chaotic I have been doing so much overtime at work to finish a big project which thankfully is finally done. Joao has been really busy too with the crazy schedule of games at the start of the new season. We have been able to spend a bit of time together but it has mostly been meeting for dinner somewhere when we both have a few hours free. Don't get me wrong I love having dinner dates with Joao but what I've really been craving is just sitting at home and doing nothing with him as I know we are both so exhausted. Joao has a few days off this week as the team don't have a game for a little while but the last few days I've still had work so we still haven't seen much of each other although he has made dinner every night. I've been a little jealous of him having time off as I haven't truly had a day off in ages but finally I can actually take the weekend off after finishing my project. 

Knowing I'd have the weekend off I've been really looking forward to not being woken up by an alarm and getting to sleep in. Typically I woke up at the time my alarm would go off even though I hadn't set it my body is so used to the routine that I naturally woke up way too early for my liking. As I was about to turn over and go back to sleep I felt Joao's arm move from where it was rested around my waist up to my face where he gently stroked my cheek and moved some of my hair that had gone astray over night. I turned to face him just as he opened his eyes slightly although I could tell he was still a little delirious as he kept blinking to clear his vision. 

"What are you doing awake you should be sleeping in" Joao said in his morning voice 

"I just woke up my body is so used to getting up at this time I just woke up naturally" I said 

"Well let's go back to sleep you deserve it plus I want to cuddle with you for once" he said 

"I can't say not to more sleep and cuddles" I smiled 

Joao was quick to pull me as close as humanly possible and wrap his arms around me so tightly I nearly couldn't breathe. Some people would hate to cuddle like that but I love to have Joao as close as possible as we have to be apart quite often so having him close it me always feels so comforting. My head nuzzled itself into Joao's neck as it was comfy and I found myself playing the the hair on the back of his neck and head which was so soft and slightly wavy from where he'd slept on it. He gently traced shapes on my side until my eyes started to feel heavy and I drifted back off to sleep.

I was sleeping peacefully until I felt something wet all over my face in my sleep which woke me up. For a second I wondered if Floki had made his way into our bedroom but then I decided that it couldn't be as he always runs about and stands on me on in the mornings and there wasn't enough noise either. As my eyes opened I was met with Joao's face right in front of mine pressing a kiss on my nose. Once he realised that I was awake he got more aggressive with his kisses all over my face which made me giggle but then he started tickling me instead which made me laugh even harder. He knows exactly where I'm the most ticklish so of course he had to focus on those spots and tickle me until I was gasping for air. Eventually he did stop and when he did he flopped down on top of me so I used my chance to tickle him as although he says he's not ticklish he definitely is. 

Once we had both stopped our assaults on each other we just laid down together with Joao resting on top of me while I played with his hair. Playing with Joao's hair is one of my favourite past times I love running my hands through it and scratching his head sometimes I put his hair up in different styles too but he often complains that it hurts when I do that. This morning I couldn't resist braiding the few stray strands of Joao's hair; for once he actually let me as he was too distracted playing with the edge of his shirt that I wore to bed. 

"I don't ever want to move from this position" Joao said 

"I'm happy to stay here for the rest of the day" I said

"Good because you're not going anywhere" he laughed holding me tighter 

"What do you think our lives will be like in 5 years?" Joao randomly asked 

"I don't know so much has changed over the last year that I would've never predicted but I'd like for us to have settled somewhere" I said 

"I hope we stay here I really love it here the city and the team are so great but whatever happens as long as you're with me I know everything will be ok" he said 

"What do you think our relationship will be like then?" I asked 

"I'd love for us to be married and thinking about starting a family but that's only if that's what you want" he said 

"I'd love to get married and have kids with you one day when the time is right" I said so he didn't get any ides just yet 

"I'll wait as long as you need amor until then we can just practice" he said 

That earned Joao a slap on the back of the head but he just laughed and continued to talk about life. We discussed loads of things like my ideal proposal, how our wedding would be and how many kids we would like. It was fun talking about the future with Joao, although we've talked about all of this before that was before all of the changes to our lives and things are different now plus we are older so it's good to know we are still on the same page. After talking about all of those serious topics we moved on to talking about what we are going to do with the rest of today and tomorrow as those are the only days we both have off. Both of us wanted at least one lazy day so we decided seeing as we'd spent a while in bed already today would be our day to relax. 

After a while of cuddling together watching tv Joao randomly got out of bed and went downstairs. I wondered where he had gone and why until he came back upstairs holding a tray of pastries and two plates. He had ordered breakfast for us from my favourite bakery in town which we both very much enjoyed in bed. When we were done we went right back to cuddling. I think this has been my favourite day in a long time as I've missed spending time with Joao so getting to do nothing but soak up the cuddles I've missed out on is exactly what I've been craving. 

[dayslynthesix]

let the games begin | charles leclerc redbull!era x horner!reader

what would happen if charles signs a contract with redbull after the disastrous season 2023 was with ferrari? would it be unfair with himself to let go of his dream or would it be a jump of faith that those dreams could became real with the competition? this one is more like a platonic relashionship between charles and isabella (i got this very bad habit that i cannot write with s/n anymore)

f1

liked by redbullracing, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, izzyhaho, carlossainz55 and 677.876 others

f1 Charles Leclerc made his Ferrari debut in 2018, racing alongside with the 4 times champion of the world, Sebastian Vettel, now, finishing his 5th year with the Scuderia and far from the results that he wanted, he leaves the team. Charles raced 100 races with Ferrari, won 5 times, including his historical winning in Monza, 2019 and 28 poles. Very good luck, Charles.

maxverstappen1 let's hope for no more inchidents, on the race

redbullracing welcome to the team, charlie!

izzyhaho now that's what I'm talking about. hey, charles, hope you like me, because you're about to hear my voice on your ear fot the next 24 races haha

user1 ok hold on mom it's happening, charles is moving to redbull

user2 it was worth nothing to be il predestinado on a failure as a team, welcome home, leclerc

user3 now im anxious to see how ferrari will perform next year

user4 hope the santander sponsor is worthy

user5 IMAGINE CHARLES DRIVING THAT ROCKET IM ON 9TH CLOUD

charles_leclerc

liked by izzyhaho, arthur_leclerc, maxverstappen1, sebastianvettel and 988.325 others

charles_leclerc for 5 years this team and this car were my dream, i have won with ferrari and i have lost with them - many times, but i still had faith in the project, unfortunately, my dream was not enough to hold the love and the wishes i had with them. thank you all tifosi out there, for the indescribably suport and love you have showed me for the past years, it was my honour. my heart will always bleed ferrari red, but it is time to breath another air.

izzyhaho "another air" redbull air, competent team air, blue air, oversteering air, im about to faint, hold on

carlossainz55 best of luck, cabron!

landonorris well, i thought i would be the one who's gonna be max's teammate

redbullracing 💙💙

user6 you'll always be our man, Charlie

user7 i dont know if this is a dream or a nightmare

user18 nightmare was what was going on at ferrari

user8 lol it is actually happening

user9 will redbull do the multi 21 all over again or they will be free to fight?

user10 KICKING MY FEET NOW

scuderiaferrari

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, izzyhaho, lewishamilton and 655.985 others

scuderiaferrari it is with a sad heart that we said goodbye to charles, it was amazing 5 years. il predestinado will forever be our maranello sun. thank you, charles. good luck on your next chapter.

charles_leclerc thank you so much!

izzyhaho your maranello sun is now our sun haha

user11 isabella is so chronically online that im dying to see her liked tweets tomorrow

user12 christian horner is right now opening his 56 thousands of dollas bootle of wine to drink a good glass of the most expensive wine ever because he got his dream driver line up

izzyhaho he is, in fact

maxverstappen1 he's been drinking a glass of wine per day since charles went for a "casual talk" with him

user13 wait, so this mean that max is not christian golden boy anymore?

maxverstappen1 you wish (im scared)

redbullracing

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, izzyhaho, arthur_leclerc and 698.655 others

redbullracing say hello to our new duo for the 2024 season, welcome home, charles, we are hoping to see you shine in navy blue. see you in march.

charles_leclerc thank you for the reception, i wasn't expecting the cake considering my birthday was a few weeks ago

maxverstappen1 why did you choose this photo, adm?

redbullracing mini boss who choose it

izzyhaho yes, i did, i thought it would be funny

user14 poor christian, if he thought his life was difficult with maxiel, now he have max, charles and his daughter around

izzyhaho oh he knows!

maxverstappen1 charles is still a little shy with the dinamics, but the prank week is on!

user15 im actually very happy with charles moving to redbull

user16 i wish i had good lawyers so i could say everything i want to say

user17 charles got a shitty car for 2 seasons and jumped the boat, never gonna be a world champion

izzyhaho at least he can drive a formula one car, something you could never 😜

user18 isabella was like "don't say shit about my new friend" and went for it

user19 so, we won on the lottery, i mean, charles is on a competitive team, have a nice car, have a nice race engineer and a team principal who looks for his best interests

user20 isabella is a race engineer?

izzyhaho noooo, im a physics student, but I'll work side by side with kai (charles engineer)

izzyhaho

liked by redbullracing, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, brazilgp, danielricciardo, landonorris and 655.918 others

izzyhaho ok, i was thinking about and ill give it a go: ask me questions about f1 and life and ill answer during my waiting time

user21 where are you going, iz?

izzyhaho I'm flying back to the uk, team meeting for the start of the season

user22 what exactly is your job at redbull?

izzyhaho i mean... almost everything? usually i stay with media duties, follow the drivers around, do the posts, stuff like that, but my thing is analyzing data and im the race engineers backup, i spend most part of the fp, qualy and race side by side with hannah

user23 who's your favorite driver?

izzyhaho jenson button, there's no other answer for it, but i really like lewis and seb

user24 where and what exactly is your degree?

izzyhaho im a physics student at the MIT, but im about to graduate early next year

maxverstappen1 what are your pets names?

izzyhaho very funny haha look how im laughing, but my dogs names are ascari, mirabel and mugham, 3 border collies

landonorris what happened in bali during the summer break?

izzyhaho you wish 🤭

user25 where do you live?

izzyhaho in boston, but after i graduate ill move back to europe, probably monaco or spain

user26 why do you spend so much time in brazil?

izzyhaho do i need a reason? lol, i like the country, the people, the culture, the food, the football... but most of it is just like, so i can feel close to senna, I've never saw him race, but my dad did, and i think he was amazing, especially as a person, so i like to feel close to the country and the people and the places who made him who he was, and i have friends there too

user27 fav sport?

izzyhaho tennis and volleyball, i love both and i have some very good friends who play booth

user28 how is like to work with your dad?

izzyhaho hey pops, do you want to answer this one? it is nice, we work along very well, we usually go for the same line of thinking when it comes to races and we have a very good relationship, and if max thinks he is my dad golden kid, he is absolutely right 😔

user29 did you never consider pursuing a driving career?

izzyhaho i did, for a while, i drove for formula 4 and formula 3 but then i realized that what i like is the theoretical part of business, but i hope to drive a f1 car at least once

user30 how is your relationship with charles?

izzyhaho 🤭🤭

user31 which are the drivers you are the closest with?

izzyhaho uhhhh... im very close with max, for obvious reasons, oscar and i are pretty friends as well, charles, zhou, lewis and george, but i got along with all of the grid

user32 what are you fav tswift songs, era and album?

izzyhaho AMAZING QUESTION! fav songs: seven, afterglow, all to well, lover and call it what you want. fav album: rep, obviously abd fav era: i love her red era

user33 expectations for the 2024 season?

izzyhaho win everything that we can possibly win

redbullracing

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, izzyhaho and 766.986 others

redbullracing it's lights out and away we go for the 2024 formula one season. 1-2 for the bulls on bahrein and a great start of the season for charles, congratulations on p2, lets aim for first next one, congratulations to max for winning the opening race of the season. let's goooooooo (mini boss said we need to look more happy)

maxverstappen1 well done, team

charles_leclerc great work, let's go for saudi aiming all 44 points

izzyhaho amazing job, as the usual

scuderiaferrari congratulations, Charles!

user34 can we take a moment to appreciate how well the car married with charles? it was like watching the old times again

user35 verstappen and leclerc fighting for p1 all the race, redbull doing double stacks 2 times, no inchidents... we'll about to testify the most dominant season a team could everrrrr be

user36 the way thar charles left the car and immediately went for the team and the team was there to congratulate him

user37 this duo... let's hope it doesn't turn a britcedes 2.0

redbullracing

liked by mercedesamgf1, pierregasly, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, izzyhaho and 766.098 others

redbullracing: jeddah, melbourne and suzuka front row lockout 🔒 congratulations on charles first pole and first victory for the team, well done! congrats to max for his second win of the season. see you soon shanghai.

maxverstappen1 let's do it again next week, can we?

charles_leclerc hey adm, could i please fire isabella from being my race engineer?

izzyhaho you are saying this now that you won 2 out of 4 races just because i got i little too happy and screamed for 3 laps on your ear?

maxverstappen1 she did it with me too

sebastianvettel i think she just didn't do it with me too because she wasn't at the paddock the first time i won, but the first world championship... i can still hear her

pierregasly lil charlie is all for the team

landonorris charles is like troy bolton

maxverstappen1 that would made me gabriella montez?

danielricciardo no.

izzyhaho max, delete this, daniel is about to storm into the facilities just to cry in front of you

charles_leclerc i don't want this blond as my gabriella montez

danielricciardo hey isabella, he's talking about you

user38 100% of victories for redbull so far... im scared

user39 the way that even though we know rbr is going to win the season is good because charles and max are fighting all the time

user40 we all knew that with a good car charlie would shine

user41 no more nightmares about a understeering car

user42 no one is going to talk how ferrari dnfed 2 races and only stayed on points on jeddah?

besthorneriz karma takes all my friends to the summit

redbullracing isabella, get out of your private account!

[feathered-mushrooms]

I like creative mind projects. This became one of them.

Alright let’s set the basics of this ‘show’. The Xavier Institute, situated in Salem, Westchester, is run by Charles Xavier. A professor, doctor, and world renowned author and scientist. However he possesses a secret, a discovery he made on his travels abroad: mutants. He has returned home and opened a school for those said mutants, and we follow his ‘first class’.

Our main characters, at least for season one, would be the og five. Scott, Jean, Warren, Bobby, and Hank. And guess what? The school actually is a school. They take classes taught by Charles, and do superhero stuff on the side. Here is their everyday clothes:

Think the vibes of X-men Evolution. The show would focus on the dual life of the kids, but would also focus on them being kids. The trouble they get into, the antics they get up to. The drama that comes with being a teenager. Additional clothes(on colder days)

So what is everyone’s backstory?

Scott Summers Scott has a very similar life to the one we know. Parents dead in a plane ‘accident’ and him being separated from his brother in the foster care system. He goes from house to house until his mutation manifests. In which he is thrown into a few bad situations regarding his foster parent using him for his powers, before being found by Charles. Scott was the first student to live on campus, but by far not the first student, however he sees Scott as a father(even if Charles doesn’t see him as his son). He is a mix of the cautious and rather reserved. He’s malnourished body earned him the nickname Slim, but don’t let the meek act fool you. He is sarcastic as you could imagine and has a very strong moral code. He will make a good leader.

Jean Grey Jean’s telekinesis came to her when she was young. Charles has been a constant figure in her life since then, almost taking on what she might call an ‘uncle’ role. He has been working with her for years, and was the first to know when her telepathy manifested, at the death of her best friend. To Charles, she was his first student, and the closest thing he feels he has to a kid. She joins the team last, the premier episode being about her moving into the mansion. She is feisty and spirited. The most reckless of the five, but also oddly balanced in responsibly. She knows she’s powerful and she fears it.

Warren Worthington III Warren’s wings did not grow in until he was away at boarding school. Lucky for him, he could hide them well at first by dropping all the sports he played. Warren used to play the part of an upstuck rich kid very well, but that never was him. When his wings fully came in, he spent the nights saving people from muggers and robbers. He realized it felt good to do something his parents would never do. When Charles offered him a place at the school he toke it, and has been learning to move past his rich ego, however some habits are hard to break. Warren still loves posh language and loves the fact that he is the richest among his friends, but also has a genuine want to help others.

Bobby Drake Bobby always knew he was different. He was gay. Something he found very hard to hide. That was until he found out he was a mutant, something he could hide behind. Bobby’s manifestion consisted of him freezing his entire room and himself, in a very Elsa manner. His parents were outraged, which caused Bobby to realize he could never come out to his parents. Charles came and wiped his parents mind, making everything easier, but Bobby still has the secret he has told no one. A secret he still hasn’t fully realized himself. Bobby hides his self loathing and anxieties behind bad jokes that he hops will be funny. As the youngest on the team, he often deals with the need to prove himself.

Hank McCoy Hank was good at hiding. His physical mutation made him very ape like in appearance, but if he stood the right way, played his card rights, and knew the right people, he could make everyone look past it. He was a genius, but hid behind a football jock exterior, an explanation for his body that made people look past him. Hank joined the school under the belief that he would not need to pretend anymore, and so he let go of his football alter ego. He prefers his academic side and is interested in pursuing the world of knowledge. He has a very academic way of speaking, but oddly really understands human emotion. He pushes himself hard and loves any and every form of learning.

In this show, the X-men was created by Charles as a way to get the public ready for the announcement of mutants, but they become so much more. Charles originally thinks that if the public can see super-powered people helping the world, they will be less likely to attack those people. He designs his perfect team, and even designs their suits.

The team….likes them….kinda

Within the first season, mutants would be exposed to the public and the X-men’s fight focus on the fight of oppression and proving they can be good. Teased in the final moments of season one, Scott will reveal the x-costumes he has designed for everyone. These would be the suits worn from then on forward, representing a switch from being Xavier’s X-men to the X-men that fight for mutant kind.

Additionally we would have lots of very weird love triangles!! Hank is not apart of it, because he very easily finds Vera who becomes his girlfriend. Bobby has a crush on Scott however. He plans to go to the grave with this fact. Warren and Scott both like Jean. Maybe they like each other….who knows? Jean on the other hand has no care in the world for romance at the moment and misses every interaction.

Some of the prominent names that would show up in the first season is of course Magneto. Magneto would be the battle for the first episode, and then there for the reveal of mutants, and then the final battle. He is the big overarching ‘villian’. Other villains would consist of classic 60’s villains such as Vanisher and the rest of the brotherhood. However Scarlet Witch and QuickSilver would not appear till season 2.

Additionally Xavier has a divorcee(that’s not Erik shocker) that is Moria McTaggert. I love the idea of them being bitter exes that have tea with each other and talk shit. Moria is mainly a doctor in Scotland, but would make appearances when one of the kids get to injured. Additionally she has ties to the CIA and aides Charles that way.

Some Pjs and fancy references

Nonetheless, let me know if you want more. I have lots of ideas regarding this and would love to drill on and on again

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Pretty As A Picture - Chapter 6

Marvel

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Theme: Soulmates - Feeling the connection as soon as you see each other.

Summary: When Bucky fell from the train, their soulmate was told he was gone. When Steve Rogers disappeared into the ice, their soulmate was again told one of her soulmates were gone. But she didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Committed to a mental health institute, she dies of a broken heart. That's at least what the hidden S.H.I.E.LD files say, but if that's the case than why is there a photo of her. A photo that shows her side by side two redhaired Avengers.

Warnings will be per chapter.

For this fic reader will be British, but let your imagination replace if needed.

Chapter Summary: Reader is MIA, presumed dead but the team aren't buying it.

To describe what followed as a ruckus would be an understatement.

Nat felt like her legs were about to give out as she let out a choked sound, Bruce moving quickly to steady her and fighting back a code green. Wanda let out a sob before placing a hand over her mouth and turning into Vision who held her tightly.

Steve and Bucky were on their feet, Steve grabbing the electronic pad from Hill and projecting the information of your mission, your last check-in and the reports of those first onsite to the mission location. Bucky made a note of the location on his phone.

Steve, Tony and Rhodes were all barking questions out at Maria.

“Not a chance, there’s no damn way.” Clint said.

Bucky watched as more projections went up around the room and the noise of those talking got louder.

“Do you want to explain why she was sent into a base on her own that was full of hostiles?” Steve snapped.

“The intel said the base was quiet, half dozen to a dozen at most.”

“A dozen is over the ratio to send an agent on her own without someone on her six.”

“That’s a S.H.I.E.L.D ruling Captain Rogers. 21 is freelance, those rules don’t apply.”

“So you sent her in knowing damn well she could be over run.”

“Captain Rogers, 21 offers a particular skill set. I’ve personally witnessed her take down a dozen enemy agents single-handedly in seconds.”

“Nat, Nat, snap out of it, you know our girl, where is she?” Clint shouted over the noise to Nat.

Nat righted herself and took a deep breath. Wanda slipped her hand into Nat’s and squeezed. They exchanged a look and when they looked back at the group, all signs of weakness had been pushed back. Nat and Wanda were gone, this was Black Widow and Scarlet Witch.

“Walk us through what happened start to finish and I want the truth, no skipping anything out. Why did Fury send her in?”

Maria started to tell them how a Hydra base in Newfoundland had started to see activity. It had already been cleared by Shield but a sensor had been tripped.

“I know that base” Bucky interrupted “it was cleared by lower level agents because it was dead.”

Maria nodded and went to continue, Steve stopped her.

“When bases are reactivated they’re meant to be cleared by us or a team agreed by us, and I know for damn sure I didn’t sign-off on this.”

“I’ll ask you again Hill, why’d Fury pick her.” Nat asked.

“You know why.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to me?” Bucky almost growled, his Brooklyn accent coming out thicker in his anger.

“It was covert.” Maria answered.

“She means it was off book, Fury sent her because freelance agents didn’t have to sign the  New Accords, they cover the grey area that we can’t, and you know what I think? I think you didn’t pass it to us because there was something you didn’t want us to see and Fury sent her because it needed someone who was quiet, that could be quiet and still offer deadly force and could get whatever you wanted out of there.”

“You realise you’ve just described Tinman and yourself right?” Sam pointed out.

Bucky’s head snapped to look at Nat. As much as Sam pissed him off, he was right on this occasion. Were you now a Widow like Nat, or were you like him in some way? Did something make you like that? Is that why Nat muttered some about guilt.

“There are, thirty-seven hostiles here by my count anyway, and that’s just this image alone.” Rhodey threw in, “they’re zip-tied and duck-taped. This doesn’t look like the work of someone that’s now presumed dead.”

“The evidence shows that….”

At that moment Bucky decided he was done. Done with Maria’s half arsed story, done with looking at screens and done with the what if’s. You looked like his soulmate. The mouth on you from calling out Nat on her bullshit when she tried to recruit you sounded like their soulmate. The fact that you’d given directions that involved getting Clint and Laura to safety via a sewer sounded like their map girl, and he was going to find you.

He was going to bring you home and make you theirs again, if every possible way.

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