#u can tell it’s day wear instead of an evening gown because it’s got long sleeves

[tsuki-in-faerun]

the fey lady chirp featherfowl, countess of cluckingham, in her casual at-home wear entertaining guests

[unwrittenlibrary]

how she loves (like sleep to the freezing)

summary -> “Sometimes Bucky will catch glimpses of who he used to be in the mirror. They’re like silent movies that play as he stares at his reflection. A boy with bright eyes and even brighter smiles that can only see the good in the world. He’s struck with how warm he used to be when these memories play. Then he blinks and they’re gone, all that’s left is a cold man staring back at him whose eyes appear empty and smiles have almost disappeared.”

or; bucky has been cold for a long time and you’re unbelievably warm.

warnings -> not beta’d, nicknames (sunshine/blossom), a lot of allusions to coldness, bucky is lonely & reader is kind. implied that the avengers live in a building together

words -> 2.0k

notes -> tried out a different writing style with this one, a bit of bucky’s thoughts instead of the reader. i hope you enjoy 🥺 title from cherry wine by hozier. can u tell i love him

— ➶ —

Bucky has felt cold for a long time. He feels like the dead of winter.

A kind of cold that just settles. One that doesn’t bite against your skin harshly but instead, it pricks and prods constantly reminding you of an absence of warmth.

He’s felt cold for so long that a semblance of warmth is unknown to him.

The way you radiate warmth is a curiosity and fact in the oddest ways. It’s constant in a way that Bucky can’t comprehend, but always shown through sunshine filled smiles and gentle eyes.

“Hi, Bucky.” You murmur sweetly as you make your way through the gym. It’s empty, you and Bucky the only two occupants, and Bucky feels heat rise to his cheeks.

He nods in response before turning back to the punching bag.

Bucky has know cold for so long he doesn’t know to react to warmth. He sticks to awkward smiles and short nods so you know he’s not ignoring you.

Maybe one day he would feel thawed enough to force the words he so desperately wants to say in return out.

➶

Sometimes Bucky will catch glimpses of who he used to be in the mirror. They’re like silent movies that play as he stares at his reflection. A boy with bright eyes and brighter smiles that can only see the good in the world. He’s struck with how warm he used to be when these memories play. Then he blinks and they’re gone, all that’s left is a cold man staring back at him whose eyes appear empty and smiles have almost disappeared. 

He thinks he would have had a chance with you back then. Imagines your lips painted red and a navy blue skirt while he wears his uniform with pride. Bucky would have taken you dancing and the two of you would have been warmer than the sun together. 

Maybe that’s what hurts the most about the memories. Now that Bucky has them back he can see the missing pieces that Steve tries to pretend he doesn’t miss. Bucky can see parts of who he used to be in the memories, parts that he’s unsure he’ll ever get back. 

He tries though. In the ways he knows how. He cuts his hair and Steve’s excited smile is worth how lost Bucky feels with when he goes to tug nervously at the locks only to find they’re no longer there.

He trains with Sam. It’s obvious Sam feels better when he can help and Bucky doesn’t want to be a burden on Steve’s found family, so he lets Sam show him moves and technology that can help in fights Bucky isn’t sure he wants to be a part of.

Sometimes though, when the memories are too much and he feels frozen, Bucky needs a break.

You seem to appear at these times. Almost like you know Bucky’s grown colder and needs something to ground him to earth.

“You okay, Buck?” You ask gently tone like honey as you move around the kitchen. He nods slowly as his eyes fall to the table in front of him.

You don’t realize it, but the honey drips down Bucky’s fingertips and brings feeling back to his frozen limbs. “I’m okay, sunshine.”

Your returning grin is bright and contagious as you settle in beside Bucky at the kitchen’s island. You’re content to sit in silence and Bucky is content to bask in your glow.

Maybe one day you would know. Maybe you wouldn’t. Bucky was starting to worry less about what ifs.

➶

Steve runs like a furnace and a jealousy as green as ivy consumes Bucky when they’re in each other’s space.

It’s wrong to be jealous of Steve when for so long Steve had been the one who froze and shivered without complaint.

But when Bucky feels the heat of Steve hit him it makes him feel sick. Steve doesn’t have the same sweet as honey tone of voice or the same warmth you do. Steve’s heat doesn’t thaw Bucky out it only reminds him of the past that makes him feel colder.

“Are you okay, Bucky?” Steve’s hand slaps Bucky’s shoulder and burns. Bucky winces, it’s not the burn of a fire but the burn you feel when your hand touches snow for a second too long and his whole body recoils.

The hurt in Steve’s eyes is enough to make guilt claw its way up Bucky’s throat, but the words are frozen on his tongue. How can he explain this? How can Bucky explain that he feels like he’s never really left that ice Hydra forced him into?

“You know,” Bucky coughs awkwardly, “my shoulder. They fucked it up.” Steve’s shoulders sag with relief and his hand rests on Bucky’s right shoulder this time.

It still burns. Bucky has learned to tense his jaw and bear it.

Steve’s so happy to have, really have, Bucky back that there are things he lets slip through the cracks. Expressions he would have noticed in the forties and ticks Bucky still has.

Your hand replaces Steve’s as you step in between the two, like you know Bucky’s shoulder is hypothermic and your touch is all that can save it from turning black and blue.

“You’re okay.” You whisper without looking at him. Steve grins at Bucky, one that says he thinks there’s more to your appearance than you just wanting to help Bucky. “What’s wrong?”

Bucky shrugs.

There are no words to explain that your touch is like his saving grace.

➶

“Bucky,” your fingers card through his hair in an attempt to wake him up, “you awake?” He’s not used to the short hair yet, but you seem to like how easily your fingers glide through it.

Yes. Bucky doesn’t open his eyes. He just makes sure to keep his breathing even as he feels a fingertip trail over his cheek.

Your touch never burns. It’s a relief. When your hand rests on her shoulder or your knuckles brush over his cheekbone, Bucky feels warm. The only way he could ever describe it to somebody who asked was the first day of Spring. The first real day of spring, when all the snow of winter has melted and flowers are peeking through the dirt again.

“I know you’re awake because you’ve got a stupid smile on your face,” you chastise with no real anger in your tone. Bucky cracks an eye open and finds you looking down at him with a grin. “What’s got you smiling like that?”

You. It’s always you. “Dreaming of something beautiful.” Bucky says softly. Your hand rests against his cheek and he feels both his cheeks heat up with a blush. He briefly wonders if you can feel the heat against the palm of your hand.

“Must have been a good dream,” you murmur, “if it’s got you smiling like that.”

You drop your hand and despite to absence of your touch, Bucky still feels warm. There’s no other way to describe it, but Bucky thinks putting it simply is best. “Yeah,” Bucky says softly as his eyes trail over you, “it was.”

“A smile is a good look on you, Barnes.” You say earnestly, a bright smile of your own gracing your face.

As Bucky watches you walk away, he feels lighter too, like something is changing in him.

➶

Bucky’s learning how to feel warm again. Smiles and laughter that makes Steve’s eyes crinkle when he hears and your eyes widen in amusement.

He never wanted to feel cold, but he’ll admit he wallowed in the feeling. He let it settle over him without a fight, lucky to have someone as warm as you in his presence. Someone whose warmth melted his ice without even really trying,

“You’ve been happier lately,” you whisper. There’s a hesitance in your tone, like you’re afraid the words may upset Bucky.

Bucky nods. His head is resting against the back of the couch as he looks at you, your cheek resting against the palm of your hand as you look down at him curiously. “I’ve felt warm.” Bucky admits.

“Warm?” Your brows furrow in confusion. Bucky’s hand is resting on the cushion between you two. He inches in closer to your knee as the two of you watch one another.

Bucky supposes now is as good a time as any to tell you. “I’ve felt cold. For a long, long time. I can’t really explain it, but I know I’m finally starting to feel warm again.”

“Warm again,” you mutter as your hand meets his halfway, “that sounds lovely.” Your fingers follow a path over his palm before Bucky captures them in his.

He can feel himself blush, he seems to do it a lot around you. “You make me feel warm again,” there’s nobody else in the room, but Bucky keeps his voice at a whisper, “like spring.”

“Spring,” you repeat in a low tone, “you make me feel like Spring too, Bucky.” And you smile, one as bright as the sun, and Bucky is happy to soak in it.

➶

He’s learning that in warmth there is comfort. Bucky’s learned a lot, actually, and he’s starting to realize while he may never feel like the bright light he was in the forties, he can grow into something just as warm. Now there are more days than not where his feet no longer feel stuck to the ground and he can feel his eyes light up.

He wants to share it with you and he’s getting comfortable enough to do so. He wants you to see his spring and watch him grow and if your warmth is included in that he wants it to be because it’s what you want, not because you feel obligated to.

Not that you’d ever implied you did. Bucky just worries.

“Sunshine,” Bucky grins as you come to a stop in front of him, “you look beautiful.” You’re wearing a lovely, emerald green gown that flows to your feet.

“Thanks, blossom.” Your eyes shine with mirth as you say it and a Bucky is sure his cheeks have turned a bright shade of red in response. “I have a gift for you.”

Bucky’s eyes widen as you hand over a thin box. “What is it?” He asks automatically as he begins to pull the tape holding the lid closed off.

“Open it!” You urge. Bucky pulls the lid off and his eyes widen when he sees the emerald green tie. The one he had on now was a plain black, meant to compliment you and not clash with your dress color.

Your eyes are watching him curiously, waiting for a response, but Bucky can’t get any words out. There are butterflies in his stomach that make it hard to breathe. “Do you… Is it okay?” You ask quietly after a moment.

“Yeah. Yes!” Bucky looks at you with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. “I love it,” he starts quietly, “will you help me put it on?”

Your eyes widen this time, but you nod and Bucky moves to pull his black tie off quickly. You don’t ask why he needs your help with this tie and not the black one and Bucky appreciates it as you slide the green around his neck.

You take a step closer and Bucky’s breath hitches as you being to slowly knot the tie around his neck. He had grown used to you and your warmth in his space, but this felt different. The air between you two felt charged. Bucky’s eyes trail over your face admiringly as you focused on the task in front of you.

“Sunshine,” Bucky starts in a whisper. Your eyes snap to his, your hands still resting on his chest. “I-“

“I know,” you murmur. Your palms flatten against his chest as you tilt your head up towards him. Bucky doesn’t have the chance to say anything else because you press a soft kiss against his lips.

It’s a blink and you miss it type kiss. By the time Bucky registers that you’re kissing him, you’ve pulled away to look at him with gleeful eyes.

“We promised Steve we wouldn’t be late,” You take an agonizingly slow step away, “and I keep promises.”

Bucky slips his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers together, and allows you to pull him down the hallway.

It’s the dead of winter, but Bucky feels like summer.

— ➶ —

notes -> not too sure how i feel about this… definitely something different. i feel like my writing has been subpar lately…. idk! have a great night 💗 or day!

if you enjoyed reblogs are greatly appreciated 🥺

[bugsyfics]

The Flower Who Bloomed (Part 2)

Undertaker x Reader

Fandom: BB

Summary: Undertaker requests for another visit with Y/N despite the conflict he is causing. Like Undertaker said, “once a lie is unraveled, the truth comes tumbling forth” —and so it does.

Warnings: Smut/notsfw, some serious teasing

Word Count: 1.8k

————•————•————•————•————•————•————•————

After you leave Undertaker’s shop, dress slightly disheveled and hair every which way, there’s no doubt that you have been absolutely ravished. With one good stare it is obvious what activities you were previously involved in. But even as you walk aimlessly around town to find a carriage in the brisk fall air, Undertaker’s words still play in your head.

•••

“Do not tell anyone about our little encounter, dear. He wouldn’t —they wouldn’t be very happy,” Undertaker spoke low, biting his tongue.

Undertaker phoned the earl, informing him he had seen you trip on the sidewalk, and tended to your twisted ankle. While that was a great excuse, nothing could get past Sebastian and you knew he would try to put the pieces together.

“Come here before you leave, my little flower,” Undertaker motioned to you, “I want to see you again soon. How does next week sound?”

You were unsure after the mess you got yourself into, but you just couldn’t say no to him.

•••

Fortunately when you arrive, no one is at the entryway to greet you, so you quickly walk to your bedroom. As you hum to yourself, changing into your nightgown, a knock at the door startles you. You slowly open the door to the hallway.

“Let me see your ankle, Y/N,” Sebastian says plainly. “It won’t take long. I need to check if it’s sprained.”

You smile wearily and sit on your bed holding out your leg. Sebastian grabs your ankle gingerly and observes it for much longer than you would like. After wrapping it with gauze, he looks beside himself, eyeing a pile of your clothes. “I can take those down to the laundry for you.”

“N-no! U-um I mean… it’s my job anyway,” you stammer and smile at him awkwardly.

“I insist, Y/N. You shouldn’t be walking at least for a couple days.”

Sebastian goes to pick up your clothing and you sweat nervously, aware that your soiled undergarments are stashed between your dress. Of course he wouldn’t say anything because it would be ungentleman-like, but the idea of him finding your ruined panties swallows you whole.

•••

Some days pass and surprisingly no one brings up the glaring flaws in your excuse. Though Sebastian has been observing you more often and it’s clear he’s on to you.

Instead of letting your curiosity eat away at you, you decide to ask Sebastian a question only he can answer. You stand in the doorway of the kitchen as he prepares dinner and clear your throat. “Good afternoon! I have a quick question about something that crossed my mind recently. It may sound a bit strange.”

Sebastian looks up at you and wipes his hands on the towel laid across his shoulder. You notice the slightest smirk cross his lips as he nods for you to continue. “Is it possible that the Percy twins were killed by something inhuman?” You watch as he raises his eyebrows in amusement. “For instance, like in the tales where a supernatural being eats innocent children.”

“Where did this come from all of a sudden? I thought you didn’t believe in those silly tales,” Sebastian prys.

“W-well I don’t… There’s just no other way to explain it. There aren’t any witnesses and the way they were so brutally killed…” you falter from your rambling.

“Did you need evidence to believe in the Church, or was it just second nature for you?”

“I guess it was second nature.”

“Exactly, Y/N. So why question yourself, if what you believe is the only plausible explanation?”

You never thought about it that way. Undertaker wasn’t wrong when he said Sebastian knew all about the supernatural. Though at first glance you wouldn’t think this butler in black would be knowledgeable of such topics. You thank him and turn to leave, but notice a glow cross his orbs and you do a double take, unsure if what you saw was only your imagination.

•••

Here you are back in town the next afternoon to run some errands. Young Master warned you to be more careful and to pay attention to the time so you didn’t have another mishap. You expected his tone to be much harsher, though he is more mindful of what he says to you, since you are his youngest servant.

You cross off the last reminder on your list, smiling to yourself. The timepiece reads a quarter to one and you’re expected to arrive back at 3, giving you a little over two hours to spare. A jittery feeling starts in your belly when you hear the bell chime as you enter. Yet again, Undertaker is nowhere to be seen, so you call out to him.

“Hello? Sir, it’s Y/N.”

It’s eerily silent as you walk further in. You sit your bags down on his desk carefully and decide to call him once more. “Hel—” you gasp, feeling icy hands cover your eyes.

“It’s me, dearie,” Undertaker whispers in your ear, causing goosebumps to raise over your body. You eventually relax into him and pull his hands from your face.

“You scared me,” you giggle and turn towards him.

Undertaker’s hat is gone and his hair is pinned back as he stands simply wearing both a black long sleeved shirt and pants. His bangs still fall into his eyes, and you can’t help but feel bubbly. He grins at you, rubbing your arm lightly. “It’s only been a week and I’m craving you, my little flower.”

He rubs circles on your hip and leans down to kiss you, but pauses above your lips. “Oh how I crave you... but you told our little secret, didn’t you?”

“No. I promise I kept my word, sir,” you shake your head.

He presses you onto his desk and runs his fingers up your spine, until he reaches the back of your neck, gripping it firmly. “That is what you say, but how can I be so sure, poppet? I had an unlikely visitor last night, you see. Hehe, I didn’t think you would turn around and disobey me like this.”

“I swear, I can prove it to you!”

It never crossed your mind that perhaps this visitor was Sebastian. You were too worked up to even notice that minor detail.

“Well, show me you’re innocent, love. Then I’ll believe you,” Undertaker orders curtly and pulls away.

You unfold your arms and reach behind yourself undoing your gown, letting it fall freely and the cool air causes your exposed nipples to harden. Undertaker reaches up to caress one of your breasts fondly, toying at your small bud. “How exactly does this prove anything, love?”

The truth was, you were innocent, but your mistake was letting Sebastian take your clothes. He never once impeded on your privacy nor searched through your garments. To him your arousal was just strong enough to detect and he didn’t condone a Phantomhive maid being intimate with a close ally of the Young Master. Sebastian was aware that Undertaker often revealed much more than he should and your little involvement threatened the trust he had with the earl.

Naive as you were, you knew that giving yourself up to Undertaker once more would not only distract him from finger pointing, but also allow you to feel his hands touching your body again.

You shrug at Undertaker, biting back a moan as continues his assault on your swollen peaks. He stops to wrap his arms around you, rutting his clothed hard on against your bare pussy. One of his hands travels down your back while the other rakes through his light bangs hastily. You watch him with wide eyes as he reveals a hard stare and you gulp, wondering what his next move will be. “Do you remember what I taught you last week? Something that I said before ravishing you.”

You shake your head. There was certainly more than just one thing that you considered to be a lesson.

He laughs in a shallow manner and wags a finger at you, “Once a lie is unraveled… the truth comes tumbling forth, my little flower.” He pauses for a moment to pinch your nipples, causing you to whimper. “Sebastian knows.”

Your mouth falls open, but for two reasons: you can’t believe that Sebastian would go to such lengths to find you out and also at that very moment Undertaker brushes across your clit, spreading your slick with his fingers. He eagerly teases you in every way possible, practically making you drip onto the floor.

“W-wait! H-how would he—”

Undertaker grunts, putting his fingers to his lips to taste you. He takes his time sucking each finger as if he devoured an entire meal, savoring your sweetness.

“He could sense it —your arousal— after you returned.”

“Sense it how? He must have snooped through my clothes,” you scoff.

Undertaker shakes his head, rolling his eyes at you, “Have you not gotten it, love? The butler is a demon.”

He places his hands beside you, leaning onto your much smaller frame. His nose ghosts over your ear as he speaks, “He popped by last night, apparently not very happy about us having it away. Hehe, I guess your arousal exposed us, dearie. Right now I shouldn’t be here touching you the way I am —I was warned. But you make me drool with anticipation for your delicate flower.”

Undertaker grins, his face visibly brightens. His hands grab on your hips, even after revealing this shocking information. His grip is possessive, trapping you against himself as he hums into your neck. You love every bit of how he is holding you and you want this feeling to last, but how could Undertaker remain so unbothered?

He whispers, telling you he is ready to take you once again. Though when he pulls away and his face comes into view, your heart starts to race, heavily unsettled. You notice the same glow in his eyes as Sebastian’s, but there is a different gleam lying behind them. You knew at that moment why Undertaker was so infactuated with telling you about other beings, and specifically Sebastian. He certainly isn’t human either.

Undertaker is utterly amused as he watches your eyes widen just as his cock slips deep inside you. He sees that you connected the dots to his secret and he chuckles. “What is wrong my little flower? Have you figured out my age yet? Or is it too many centuries to count on your fingers?” He grabs your hand and places a kiss along your knuckles with a sly grin.

————•————•————•————•————•————•————•————

— bugs

Taglist: @second-weeb-chick

[apricotbuncakes]

🏳️‍⚧️ Luigi is Trans Masc 🏳️‍⚧️

Long Post!!!

Now that I have your attention, here are some reasons that I headcanon Luigi as trans, based off of my own experience as a trans masc person.

1) He ghosts hunts even when he has the option to say no.

Could this be a ‘I have to save my loved ones from danger’ or a ‘this is the right thing to do even though I’m scared’ situation? Yeah! But I’m trans and grasping for straws, so let me have this.

I put this as a reason for him being trans, because I believe he’s doing it because he’s a man and he’s ‘not supposed to be afraid’.

Luigi is assumed to be 24, and his character was first introduced in the 1980s, specifically 1983. Assuming he was 24 when the first game released, he would have been born in 1959 (feel free to check my math on that).

Although his character was introduced in the 80s where men tended to be more feminine and flamboyant, he was probably raised with the idea that men should be tough and strong, and should lead. Even if we throw release date and age aside, even if he was born in my generation, those stereotypes of men still exist and are taught within society. Even as those norms are being broken day after day, he would have still been exposed to the toxic masculinity.

Luigi, from what we’ve seen of his adventures, tends to be more scared and less ‘tough’ than what was expected of a man. From what we know of Luigi, we can safely assume that (if he was trans) he would be doing this not only for his family and friends, but to prove he was tough and strong, and that he was manly.

2) He dresses like his brother.

Yes, he is a plumber by trade, but he also ghosts hunts, and makes bank off of that. You think he would wear a different outfit when he ghost hunts simply because denim Isn’t meant for physical activity. Anyone who’s run in jeans knows that it isn’t exactly meant to be stretchy. It’s (supposed to be) designed to withstand the test of time. So why doesn’t Luigi change from plumbing cloths (specifically his denim overalls) to something more suited for the running he has to do in various places for ghost hunting? Because Mario wears overalls and a t-shirt.

From what I’ve seen on social media, other trans people follow the lead of those around them who match their gender identity/their presentation. I would do the same was well. I would look at what my dad wore, what my brother would wear, and what guys at school wore. I developed my style after what I had seen, so I could pass.

While you don’t have to pass to be trans (or even have the desire to), it’s a common theme amongst trans people to try and blend in with cis society. This can be for safety reasons, or just because they want to fit in with their peers.

Luigi clearly looks up to his brother, crying tears of joy whenever Mario is saved from King Boo. He congratulates him when he wins events. He supports him, because he looks up to him. They’re brothers after all!

It makes sense that Luigi would mirror Mario, since they are so close. Since Mario is most often seen wearing his overalls, Luigi follows suit, because it’s what he believes guys do. He’s following the example that Mario set for him.

3) Luigi’s view on gender expression.

Luigi has had a couple of instances where he is known to ignore typical gender stereotypes, specifically with dresses.

In the game super Mario Odyssey, Mario can be seen wear a wedding gown with a veil, and Luigi is only concerned that Mario didn’t tell him about the wedding. There was no wedding, and Luigi didn’t mock Mario when informed that his brother was wearing the gown for fun.

The second major instance is from the New Super Mario Bros. U Deluxe website. The website tells us that only Toadette can use the Super crown. The last part of the Super Crown’s description says “Sorry Luigi- Only Toadette can use this item!”

While this could point to Luigi being trans fem instead of trans masc, I would like to point out that recently, it has become more accepted that men can dress feminine. Since this game was released in 2019, it’s completely possible that Luigi has caught onto this, and is becoming more accepted and accepting of his femininity as a man. This would also be plenty of time to unlearn harmful stereotypes from when he was younger, about what men can and can’t do. Although he still sticks with old habits, he’s learning more about how the world around him works, and how it’s changing day by day.

I believe that Luigi has a better understanding of gender and gender expression because he is trans. He’s learning to accept that he doesn’t have to be hyper masculine to be a valid guy.

4) How he got his mustache and flat chest (and… other stuff).

This section will be discussing the effects of hormones, surgeries, and genitalia. Please keep this in mind as you read.

This is more of an explanation for how certain things happened.

How did he grow a mustache? Testosterone. It was likely after helping his brother with his career, and winning sporting events he had a good amount of income to start Testosterone. Another option? Minoxidil. Minoxidil was tested to see if it could cure ulcers in the 50s. Through testing, The Upjohn Company discovered it opened blood vessels and allowed for blood to flow more smoothly. In the late 70s, it was FDA approved for patients to use if they suffer from high blood pressure. Through this, they discovered that minoxidil also has the side effect of hair growth. The FDA approved the product to be sold, and it was called Rogaine. Meaning Luigi would have had access to something to grow facial hair, even if testosterone wasn’t an option.

What about his flat chest?

Binding or Top surgery. Both were an option by the time Luigi was old enough. Laurence Michael Dillon was a trans person who was born in 1915 and died in 1962. While I do recommend you look at more of his story, what I want to focus on is the fact he had top surgery. While the surgery was still fairly early in it’s development, it was possible. Luigi, who wasn’t born until 1959 (as previously discussed) would have the option to get top surgery when he became an adult.

Another option would be binding, though I think this is less likely because of how binding restricts physical activity. Binding in any way makes it difficult to run or exert yourself in general. We see Luigi run a LOT in various games, and for decent amounts of time too. It’s less likely that he’s binding.

The last thing is his penis.

There was a huge joke going around about the bulge we saw in a promotion for Mario Tennis Aces. People were discussing how large it was, and Even Mattpat on Game Theory discussed the measurements to determine how large it was.

Why was it so noticeable? Well bottom surgery was also an option for him pretty early on. Surgeons (from what I’ve been told be social media) will ask how you’d like to look like. Even if he decided to not get bottom surgery, he could be wearing a packer.

A packer is anything you use to give the feeling and or appearance of a penis, specifically used by trans masc people who were not born with a penis. There are many different types of packers (including clean rolled up socks) that people may use. What’s most important to note though, is they have a high chance of moving around.

Even with harnesses or underwear specifically designed to keep a packer in place, they can still shift around in your pants, especially when you’re doing a lot of moving. From my experience, my packers tent to move forward rather than back. Wearing athletic shorts will also make that area more pronounced as the fabric is looser, so if Luigi was wearing a packer, we’d know.

5) He’s trans cause I say so.

Like I said in the beginning, it’s a head canon. I say he’s trans because it’s a cool idea. A Nintendo character that is trans, and isn’t being hidden, explained away, or made fun of (like Vivian from Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door). I like the idea that Luigi is a proud trans guy, and we don’t know because it doesn’t matter. He’s a guy because he’s a guy. He doesn’t just ‘become’ a guy because he goes through surgeries or goes in hormones. He’s trans, and t doesn’t matter if we know or not, because his trans identity isn’t important to the story we’re playing, or our knowledge to know. We aren’t entitled to it.

He’s a guy who happens to be trans, and that’s that.

If there is any misinformation above, please let me know so I can correct it. This was meant to be a fun post about my head canon, but I did use real world examples t explain it, and if I got something wrong, I’d like to know. Thanks!

[cassanovancats]

felicitate. two.

one < current > three

Jan. 2017

Two months have passed since Yuta’s first day. You were able to convince Satoru that, because he shared the similar disadvantage of not having an inherent technique, you should control his training. Maki was still his primary partner when it came to afternoon sparring. But he was your partner in the mornings.

Every morning, the two of you would focus on a different part of the body or a different form of exercise. You spotted him in the weight room, you logged his mile times, and, most importantly, you became his friend. Over before-dawn laps and cool-down stretches, you got to know Yuta and Rika.

For the first month, Rika stayed as an intangible ball of energy hovering around Yuta. Then, slowly, she began to manifest a form. Only for a minute at a time initially, but with time, she would appear for the entire session. Rika would hover a few feet above the weight bench or make flower crowns from the wildflowers that grew around your preferred trail. Yuta seemed just as surprised as you when she placed one on your head after a week of her practicing making them. She explained how she wanted to make something just as pretty as you, with all the innocence of a child. You had thanked her with watery eyes.

But with all the peace that came after settling into a new routine with Yuta joining your class, something was bound to ruin it. This time it was a required meeting between the big three clans. The invitation that arrived specifically asked for both you and your brother’s presence. Satoru tried to squirm out of it saying, “They didn’t say which brother had to attend,” but Megumi's unimpressed look and point at the name Gojo sprawled across the top ended that excuse.

Which lead to where you are now, dragging your human classmates through the Ginza streets to collect a custom gown. Maki grumbled all morning, but you were finally able to shut her up with a promise of buying everyone coffee, lunch and take-out dinner. Inumaki was content with any excuse to go into the city (even if it meant he had to carry your bags) and Yuta didn’t have the nerve to reject your offer when you smiled so hopefully. Though, he was curious after the employee of the shop greeted you like an old friend. “Why do you need such a fancy dress?”

“I don’t,” you rolled your eyes. “I have, or had, several custom ones already. I donate almost all my clothes after wearing them to these events. These meetings, when me and Nii-chan are both requested, are used as an excuse to find ways to undermine the political status of Gojo’s. Nii-chan did not force me into years of tutoring on sorcerer history and politics for me to get clowned about wearing the same outfit as last time.”

Maki adds, “The Zen’ins and Kamos are the standard for sleazy shamans. Not every sorcerer is as nice as us.” Yuta nods hesitantly, which makes you snort.

“I know us kicking your ass constantly may not seem ‘nice,’ but trust me when I say I’d rather be getting tossed around by Maki or Panda than attending this dinner.”

“Bonito flakes.” You can tell Inumaki is pouting behind his face mask.

“C’mon, Toge-chan,” you draw out the ‘-chan’ and grab his free hand to swing it back-and-forth. “You know I didn’t mean it like that. It’s a good thing to not be grouped with Maki! She’s such a meanie when it comes to training.” Maki moves too fast for you to dodge her punch. Yuta laughs under his breath at your group’s antics. “Anyways, the most exciting part of this dinner will be seeing what Kamo schmuck they dig up to try to convince Satoru to marry me off.”

“They’re still on that?” Maki laughs and throws her arm over your shoulder. “You would think they’d catch the hint after you stopped wearing furisodes.”

“Salted fish roe,” Inumaki offers.

You sigh, “I would, but you know they wouldn’t treat you well. Escorting me would just mean you get to deal with their passive aggressive comments too.”

“What if I escort you?”

Your group stops walking in the middle of the crowded streets. People continue to push past, but the three of you continue to stare dumbfounded at Yuta. “Is it that bad of an idea?” He flushes bright red and turns his head to stare at the ground.

“No, no,” you reassure as you get the group moving again. “It’s just… well, you remember how we reacted when you came into the class initially, yeah? While they would make fun of Toge-kun, the people at this meeting would try to kill you without hesitation. There’s no guarantee even Rika could stop the full force of everyone in both the Zen’in and Kamo clans.”

Yuta gives a small, “Oh.” He continues to stare at the ground.

“Seriously, I would love to have an escort, especially if it was either of you. There’s only so much of clan politics I can take alone. But I’d never ask you or Toge to go through that for me.” You move from in between Maki and Inumaki to bump against Yuta. “Like, these people are the ultimate bullies. I want you to deal with them only when absolutely necessary.” He finally seems to cheer up some and you take the moment to grab his hand, tugging him forward. “Now c’mon! The bakery Nii-chan got those pastries from last week is only a few blocks away!”

The day of the meeting arrives without much fanfare. Satoru took Megumi out on a mission in the morning to exorcise some low-level curse and you were left at the school to start what would be a long day of preparations. You shuffle into the common area and begin making a cup of coffee. It isn’t until you turn to get creamer from the fridge you realize Yuta, Inumaki and Panda are eating breakfast in the same room. You flush, suddenly aware that you didn’t grab any sweatpants when you left your room and you had slept in a stolen pair of Satoru’s boxers. “Please tell me I’m still asleep,” you mutter, shutting your eyes and whipping back around to finish preparing your coffee.

Panda falls over laughing. Inumaki gives a loud whistle. Yuta is redder than you are and has his face almost flat against his rice. Of course, to add to your humiliation, Hakari and Maki come in from training.

“(y/n), I was never here and I never saw you,” Hakari throws his hand over his eyes and immediately turns to run towards his dorm room.

“You know, I don’t see why you don’t just attend dinner in this outfit,” Panda says.

“Of course you don’t, you literally don’t wear clothes. At least Hakari is smart enough to have some shame and not ogle at her.” Maki moves forward to steal a sip from your cup and gags, “God, how much sugar is in this thing?”

You pout, “The appropriate amount to get me through today. I need to borrow one of your thigh holsters, by the way. Nii-chan doesn’t want me to have to use his technique if something happens.”

“Nori?” The three jerks finally stop laughing, though Panda still seems particularly delighted at your embarrassment.

“Mm, I don’t think so. But some elders got pushy when I was sent to the last meeting and not my brother. Satoru wants me to be able to scare them, not maim them.”

“Salmon,” Inumaki still seems hesitant, but you and Maki move onto a different topic easily as you two walk to her room.

Yuta watches until he’s sure neither of you will hear him ask, “Will she really be okay?”

Inumaki, despite seeming hesitant before, gives a stronger, “Salmon.” He gestures for Yuta to pick up his phone (the boy has gotten better at understanding Inumaki, but wasn’t able to have a conversation yet) and sends a message in a group chat appropriately named Da Bois while Panda grumbles about how unfair it is that he has paws and can’t use a phone.

osamu: (y/n)ie is smiley but she’d kill someone if they tried anything lol

fushiguro: what did the idiot do

fushiguro: who is osamu

osamu: ofc u don’t know hq

fushiguro: what’s that supposed to mean

creepy-kun: when did you change my name >:(

Yuta pouts about the name change for the rest of the day and avoids his phone to keep from Inumaki’s teasing. He almost misses the photo you send in JJH Thots.

It’s you and your brother pressed cheek-to-cheek and making faces at the camera. Satoru has on his circular sunglasses instead of a blindfold, even though it’s clearly night in the photo. His bright, blue eyes peek over their edge, his smile wide, and he has one hand throwing a peace sign and the other on your side. Your mouth is tugged back into a snarl, but Yuta can see how a smile is starting to break through and your eyes are lit up. Both of your hands form claws, like you were a second away from jumping through the phone screen and pinning the viewer.

the good gojo: time to annoy some bastards!!

maki: tell naobito he’s a bitch

fushiguro: ^

osamu: you!! look!!! hot!!!!

the good gojo: the way satoru thought that was for him

the good gojo: it’s delusion luv

Yuta has seen the two of you in almost this exact pose in person. But you weren’t dressed like that, with the slightest hint of the black leather holster you wore peeking out from underneath soft layers of tulle. Even his usual carefree teacher is in Western formal wear, with a tie that matches the floral print on your dress. Yuta knew you had bickered over who got to pick and who had to match. He almost couldn’t imagine the people in the picture wrestling like the two of you had. Together, you two are blindingly beautiful. It wasn’t fair.

Yuta covered his face with his pillow and screamed.

[urlocalnctstan]

hihihi<3 can u do one for Renjun+angst and 'My Everything' as the song✨

Song : My Everything - NCT U

Genre : Angst mentions of toxic parents, mentions of underworld/mafia, mentions of a minor character death

wc : 1.6 K

December 28th, 2017

Renjun stood exactly 40 steps away from your shivering figure that sat on a red swing, the temperature of the night dropping as it got deeper. While he watched you waiting alone with a heavy heart, unbeknownst to his presence you rubbed your palms against one another to produce some friction as an attempt to allow you the bliss of warmth momentarily. You puff out a string of smog in annoyance, re-checking if your boyfriend actually agreed meeting up tonight.

you : tonight. 9 pm at the park. sharp or ill kill u

RJ: 9 pm it is.

You jumped in surprise at the sound of your own sneeze, quickly bringing out some tissues from the pocket of your jacket before your allergy worsens. It was already 10 pm, and you started you wonder if he would actually ever show up. You fix your woolen beanie, the one you have matching with Renjun, anxiously tapping your feet against the blanket of green beneath you. You squint your eyes, sensing the devious arrival of your migraine. What a great night it is indeed! You thought. 

Renjun took two steps towards you, hesitation holding back his legs from approaching any further; I should tell you, he thought. He did not want to drop a bomb on you out of the blue when you hear the news of his sudden disappearance. He wanted to come out clean, if not to all at least to you. You of everyone deserve an explanation. But fate had other plans for you both that day. Annoyed red, you harshly kick the swing you were previously seating on, swinging your bag on your back before speeding off back to your house. Renjun sighed, but he wasn’t sure if it was out of relief or because you were making too hard for him to say the truth.

“What do you mean?” You felt your heart drop at his words, a solemn expression sitting on his face. It held no regrets, no emotions; and you pondered if he was the same guy that you had been dating for the past 11 months. “Babe, what are you sa-”

“You heard me right, Y/N.” Renjun rubbed the temples of his forehead, an exasperated huff leaving his mouth. “Don’t wait for me. I’ll be leaving in three days. So its best we break up.” He was not even bothering to look you in the eyes, did all these months mean nothing to him at all?

You were too numb to answer him back, feeling as if a lightning directly ascended upon your existence. You stood in your position motionless, not even realizing how he had already disappeared from you line of sight. You wanted to cry and scream at him, but it was if your body was retaliating against you; unable to form any sort of sound. That night, you cried to your heart’s content; a very worried Jaemin comforting you throughout the whole night despite having his Valedictorian Speech rehearsal scheduled the next day. Without a word, he listened to your muffled cries and screams, sometimes letting out coos of ‘it’ll be okay’ or ‘i’m here for you’. For the first time in all your years of being friends with him you had actually listened to his words when he said, “Cry out, cry to your heart’s content tonight, but remember to never cry again for that dipshit after tonight.” Jaemin took your slowly calming sobs as an agreement to his prior wording, a deep sigh escaping his lips as he listened to another set of muffled sobs reverberating from his earphones.

December 28th, 2027

“Oh my God!” A very merry Sooyoung, you best friend who was also your colleague at the law firm you worked at chirped gleefully as you twirled around gracefully with your wedding dress. Yes, it was your wedding day. You blushed like every other bride as you glanced at your reflection on the mirror, slightly taken aback by this very different version of yourself. You looked ethereal, like those scenes in movies where a soft light from the windows falls upon the main lead with white curtains dancing in the back? Yeah, you felt similar to that. 

Giggling at your weird imaginations, you turn over to meet a teary Sooyoung, sniffing with the napkin clutched in her hands. You would hate to cry at this moment, it had barely been twenty minutes since you arrived in the waiting room. But most importantly, you would really despise the idea of getting your makeup ruined, not really adamant on spending another stash of dollars for a simple bridal makeover. However, your sobbing best friend was making it really hard for you. Your sweet moment was cut off by an urgent spree of knocks, the person standing on the other side being extremely impatient to even bother waiting for someone to twist the door knob open. 

The door opened to reveal a very unexpected person standing with a bouquet of fresh white orchids and white roses; your favorites. You had a shit eating grin on your face as he stepped inside the room, elegancy dripping with every movement he made. His dark brown hair was gelled back, making his already sharp features stand out even more. The jet black tuxedo was perfect on him, making his look like a walking prince. 

“Renjun,” you call out, barely above a whisper; his name feeling a bit foreign on tongue. “You’re here.”

“I am.” Renjun no longer held that poker face you had despised so much ever since your breakup, joyous grin adorning his face at the sight of you. You look so beautiful, so so beautiful, he thought grinning to himself. Renjun felt his heart squeeze against his ribs, half because of how ethereally beautiful you looked and half because how he wished that it was him you had dolled up for. With light steps he leans forward to your sitting figure, wearing a smile that looked more of a painful one as he placed you the bouquet of flowers he chose for you.

“I am really surprised how you still remembered.” Unlike him, you remained more composed; unfazed by the reunion with your past lover. Your fingertips caressed the white delicate petals that were slightly wet, admiring how beautiful the bunch looked. “Thank you so much, Renjun.” You say to the man, sincerity dripping with every syllables you let out. He was currently sat crouched on the ground, careful not to step on the white laces of your expensive wedding gown.

“Tsk, tsk. Don’t say thank you yet. I still have something else stored for you too.”

“Please give a big round of applause for the most beautiful bride!” Haechan exclaimed, his hands clapping as he motions Jisung to ask the caterers to position the light towards you. Audience stared in awe, you looked like a dream with the white lace dress, your veil trailing behind as the tiara glistened in the soft light. You were glowing.

“On the road that shines exceptionally,” a sweet honey-like voice catches you off guard, momentarily making you halt in your pace as you search for its owner. Renjun stood on the stage just beside the alter, your cousin Mark strumming his guitar while another one of your friends Chenle produced sweet melody on the pianoforte to muse with the vocals. You couldn’tt help but beam at the sight.

“Standing there, I am waiting for you” Just turn around, make me conquer my cowardice. Hold on to me instead of the cold metal chains of the red swing. Will you wait for me if I ask you? Will you wait until I return for you?

“What do you mean?”

Please don’t go yet Y/N, ask me to stay back. Just ask me once and I’ll do it.

“Babe, what are you sa-”

“You heard me right, Y/N.” Please this is not what I want, please see how much I am struggling to let go off you. Just when Renjun was just about to blurt out all his emtoions, his eyes widened at the sight of his father, gawking over him from the top of the stairs right behind you.

“It's not cold When you are in my arms, I can feel the warmth.”

Renjun remained silent, too scared to say something that might end up really fatal for him; for you. “That girl is a distraction for you.” Renjun’s father glowered at the younger, his grip tightening on the loaded pistol residing in his hand. “Cut her off, or I’ll do the favor for you.”

Renjun did what he thought was best. If your safety meant the sacrifice of his love, he would gladly comply so. It wasn’t long that the illegal empire built by his father collasped after his sudden demise; Renjun escaping his worst nightmare at the night of funeral. It was somewhat easy for him to start a new life since he was never exposed to the strings of underworld, fleeing back to China without any trace. He was able to have a fresh start with his desired career : a musician. 

Seeing you smile brightly as the luminescence shining from above created a halo around you, he felt as if he were witnessing an angel that had directly ascended from Heaven. Heavy heart filled with pain, a fresh pool of tears start to form at the corners of his eyes; how he wished it was him standing at the other side of the alter instead of Na Jaemin. 

“You're my everything I want to protect your days and nights You are a miracle to me, I wish you could see it Spreading all over me, a gift called you You’re my night and day Waiting for you in this street, drawing you again.”

this was long I hope i was able to meet a teeny tiny bit of your expectations love  @bluejaem

[yuzukult]

effortlessly pt. 10 || jungkook & reader

title: effortlessly (the finale) pairing: jungkook x reader words: 4.0k genre: fluff, romance, school!au, smut some chapters notes: ;u; patience is key, epilogue coming out soon! p.s. hope you guys stay for my next jungkook series! ;u;

series: part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || part nine || part ten || epilogue 

The seasons come by quickly— Autumn, Winter, Spring. Last summer had come to an end with you leaving the admissions office with a plan and an answer; a decision that was made up completely by yourself.

You’re grateful for Jungkook because he doesn’t probe you about your decision and promised to wait patiently until you’re ready.

Autumn comes around with its descending leaves from the now naked trees, filling the roads with shades of golds, reds, and browns, sparse in air, leaving every scene on your walk to school like a sepia photograph. It’s the season of football, pumpkin spice lattes, pumpkin spice flavored anything, really, and Halloween. Then Winter approaches with a scare; a blanket of snow dropping over the school yard, the fields, and every corner of the entire city. Light jackets now replaced with thicker and longer ones, you can’t help but groan at the difficulty of tying your shoes with how stiff yours are.

“Ugh, why did I buy this again?”

Jungkook laughs merrily at the sight, mostly because you just look so small and cozy in your coat, struggling to reach down to your toes. He taps his thigh for you to place your foot, a grin stretching cheek to cheek. You comply as he responds, “Because it’s December, silly. You’ll be freezing standing outside wearing your little leather jacket that you think is going to make you feel warm.”

“It’s more of a fashion statement than warmth, Jeon.” He’s tying the laces of your Doc Martens, fingers nimble and cold, and thighs shivering from the remains of the snow that gets on his pants, the wetness seeping through the fabric and onto his skin. “Well, you’re going to catch a cold wearing that thing around. That’s why you need this.” When he finishes, he drops your leg down, pulling the hood of your jacket over your head snugly. “So please don’t get sick because that means that I also have to play sick to stay home and take care of you.” Jungkook is effortlessly caring.

Jungkook hates the cold. Only because it takes away a location for him to swim— outside. But this year, he doesn’t seem to hate it as much. Maybe it’s because now, you’re his, and he can replace the time he dedicated to swim outside to spend time with you instead.

Especially when he gets to see you in the Christmas Village, mouth gaping wide with a bright smiling following after, face brightened by the colorful string of lights that surround you. “Wow,” Amazed, your eyes twinkle at the view. “Now this is something to talk about.” He hates himself for not taking you here every other year, the guys convincing him that it was too romantic for two friends to go to, but he can’t help but wonder what if he took you years before and learned how much he was in love with you earlier?

You spend the holidays at his house, meeting his grandparents and extended family while your parents decide to go on a trip to Hawaii. It’s become a tradition, really, your parents ditching the whole family bonding thing, and you spending that time with Jungkook’s family instead.

His mom loves you. Although your sleepovers have slowly become stagnant because of her suspicion of you guys doing more than just movies and sleeping, she wouldn’t want anyone else to be with her son other than you.

The Jeon’s have everything set for the holidays; from the tree with presents pleasantly wrapped placed intricately underneath, to the decoration that drapes the fireplace, to the strings of tinsel and garland that cascades down the staircases, and the wreath that hangs on the front door. Ms. Jeon is obsessed with Christmas and favors nothing more, perfecting the holiday over the years for her family... well, mostly herself.

Even though Jungkook spends day and night complaining about his mom, telling her that she’s dedicating too much money and time for this ‘stupid holiday,’ he’s still the best son and tends to her every need. When she struggles in the kitchen, he��s already by her side, asking her what she needs a hand in. Or when she can’t reach a portion of the tree while decorating, there’s an annoyed expression on his face but he utilizes his towering height to help her get those spots. Jungkook is effortlessly a family man. 

“So, Jungkook, I heard you got into University?” His cousin, Sooyeon, asks. She is several years older than the two of you, almost completing her undergraduate degree. “I did! I got in with an athletic scholarship.” He’s genuinely happy, the way he shares this information, like he’s finally proud of himself and how far he’s gotten in life. The obstacles he’d overcome, the effort he had invested into the sport—they all were worth it in the end. Jeon Jungkook was reaching for his dreams.

It’s New Year’s Eve and Hoseok is hosting another party.

Underaged drinking is almost a rite of passage before entering University, and although you aren’t much of a rule breaker, it feels like something you need to do. Break out of your shell, despite the discomfort of knowing the consequences because once you get into college, none of this was going to be the same anymore. You won’t get to see Hoseok standing on the table, hollering out and swaying along to the song that plays. Jimin won’t be complaining about girls who reject him constantly. Yura won’t be there to call you out on your actions. And Jungkook, whilst he promises to stay by your side forever, there’s a possibility that it won’t happen.

“You look so pretty tonight.” Jungkook compliments you in a slur, cheeks rosy from the alcohol. You look down at your current attire; a silver sequined satin cami paired with a black leather jacket and jeans. Glancing up at the boy, you laugh at the sight of his cheeks, hand reaching up to pinch them. “You think so, Jeon?”

“If I’m being honest, I think you’re always pretty.” He hums against your hand, turning his face to give it a peck. “And I’m happy I get to be here with you. I hope you never go, and I hope nothing comes between us. It’d be nice, you know, if we...” He drifts off, mind fogging with thoughts that made him giddy because he’s giggling incessantly.

“If we what, love?”

“If we got married. Then we’d be best friends then high school sweethearts that made it.” Jungkook’s words soar you to the moon. He shares the same dream, whether or not it happens.

When the clock strikes 12, in spite of his current intoxication, he doesn’t forget you. Cupping your face in his large, warm hands, lips puckering up, he smooches you all over, laughter erupting from you. Jungkook is effortlessly a happy virus.

“Has Jungkook asked you to prom yet?”

“What?” Skimming through the pages of your notebook while in homeroom, you’re only half paying attention to anything Yura is saying. You’re on a mission to find something and even Yura can’t stop you. 

Winter is still lingering, mostly waiting for Spring to make its appearance and nobody else is more excited for it to come than Yura. Only because it’s prom season, of course. 

“Jungkook,” She reiterates, this time louder. “Jeon Jungkook? The love of your life? Is he asking you to prom?”

“Oh, prom.” Stopping at a page, your finger browsing through the highlighted and colored writing while furrowing your brows, focusing on the task. “Uh... no?”

“No?!” Yura exclaims, startling you out of your actions. She’s got your attention now. “It’s two months away. You won’t have enough time to find a dress or test out how your makeup is going to look and the shoes! What about your shoes?”

“Well, if it has your panties in a knot, why don’t you ask him yourself?”

You regret telling her that because she does. Your comment during a time of not fully investing the entirety of your attention has brought you to this: a locker filled to the brim of red roses. There’s a card in the middle of it all, so you grab it, tear it open where in the sloppiest writing it says: turn around.

There Jungkook was, in all his beauty, standing in the middle of the hall with a box of donuts in hand, opened with the writing: i donut want to go to prom with anyone else but you!

It’s not that you hate it. No, you disgustingly love it, but you wished you had Jungkook all to yourself. He’s too great, and him standing in his uniform with donuts from your favorite bakery, you can almost feel the piercing glares from other girls down the hall. But he’s yours, nonetheless, and you didn’t wish for anything more. 

Yura’s exaggeration on how long it’ll take to find a dress isn’t so much of an exaggeration when you’re shuffling through dresses in the department stores with her for the next two months, the quantity of gowns dropping by the hour. You’re grateful you found something just two weeks before the date.

Although you think the prom theme being “Hollywood” is the tackiest thing you ever heard— the sight of Jungkook standing outside of your house with both a corsage and boutonnière in hand with his hair styled back, black suit and tie with a white button up underneath, your breath hitches. He makes you feel like you’re in the presence of a celebrity; he has the ability of grabbing the attention from an entire room, despite leaning against such an old car in need of a new paint job.

In spite of it all, he seems in awe as much as you are. He thinks you’re gorgeous like this— like he’s the one who is lucky, not the other way around. You lean over, hair blown out and in a black gown that hugs your curves and compliments only the parts you wished for it to, wiping the little drip of drool that falls out the corner of his mouth. “You good, bub?”

“More than good,” he says, voice raspy. “You look... stunning.”

“Speak for yourself.” Jungkook is effortlessly handsome like this, and you wish you could keep this view all to yourself. But tonight is a time to be far from selfish.

You want to flaunt Jungkook, more than he wants to flaunt you, you convince yourself. Mostly because when you step into the gymnasium that’s fully decked out in decor, everyone’s eyes are on Jungkook. 

“I think they’re all looking at you,” He would say, but you’re not stupid. Your arms are linked with a God-like man with a personality that represents it. He does nothing but help you walking in your unfamiliarity in heels, introduce you to some of his classmates that you’ve never met before, yet manages to dedicate enough time for just the two of you, dancing the night away, whispering sweet nothings into your ears before pressing his lips against your forehead delicately.

Jungkook wins Prom King that night while some pretty girl in your grade named Nayeon wins Prom Queen. He doesn’t devote his dance to her though, he apologizes and takes your hand instead.

When he takes you home that night, the only expectation you had was to go home, shower and change into your sleepwear and sit by the window sill to talk the hours away with Jungkook from across the way.

But it’s prom. So you drive with him down the shore, wearing a spare hoodie he leaves in the trunk of his car for days that get cold after practices, and holds your hand while you stomp barefooted in the sand. He’s so pretty under the moonlight, you take note, the way that it shines on the bridge of his nose, brightens the shade of brown his orbs are, and brings warmth into his smile and laughs when you share stories about your high school years. 

The two of you make love in the backseat of his car with the sunroof opened, under the moon. Although it feels corny to do and such a cliché concept to have sex on prom night, it doesn’t feel that way with Jungkook. You argue that his car might not be able to take the constant movements, but Jungkook doesn’t care. He just wants to shower you with kisses and love throughout the hours that pass by.

When you come back to school the following Monday, Yura sits backwards nervously in her chair, staring at a letter that sits on your desk. Furrowing your brows in confusion, you gesture the piece of paper with your chin. “What’s up with that?”

“It’s... a letter, from Le Cordon Bleu. Pretty much to the equivalent to an Ivy League for culinary schools.”

Oh. Now you understand why the air felt weird. Quickly, you shuffle into your seat and slide off your backpack onto the floor. “Okay, well. What are you waiting for? Open it!”

She whimpers. “I’m scared.”

“Well, you told me to stop being scared and just do it. So, bitch, do it.”

While protesting, she does as told. Tearing the envelope open and the unraveling of the sheet of paper was nerve wrecking, possibly even more for you.

“I... got in.” Holy shit. “You got in?”

“Guess who’s going to France, bitch!”

It’s a reality, this sight of your best friend; the brightest smile on her face, cheekbones defined from the excitement in her. A dream she had, a dream that you never even knew had been a priority in her life, was coming true. 

Whether or not it was jealousy, you were proud of her regardless. Yura was able to attain her goals before even graduating high school. After further research, you learned that there were many locations for this school, and her dream was to be able to expand her knowledge throughout all those countries.

You’re tired of hearing him talk about his plans for the future where it sounded like none of the routes included you. Jungkook goes on from when the sun rises to the sun sets about what he wants to do in life, where he wants to go, and where he hopes to be at whatever age. You could listen to him talk for hours like it's a song on repeat that you never grow to hate, but today, it felt inconsistent. He had all these things he wanted to do but where were you?”

“Where do I even fit in all of this?” You finally get the courage to blurt.

Jungkook’s forehead is creased in disbelief at your outburst. “What are you talking about?”

“Well,” you start, fumbling with the fabric of your shirt, “you haven’t even mentioned me once. It’s like you’re also planning for your escape out of this relationship.”

He’s fuming. It’s been a while since he’s been this mad, especially since your last huge argument had nearly been a year ago. Otherwise, with Jungkook, there had been small disagreements that were recoverable but it feels different this time. “You don’t get to be upset with me for planning a future without you because if I’m being totally honest, you still haven’t told me what you decided that day you walked into that office, and I’m feeling rather insecure about whether or not you trust me!”

“Don’t hate me,” eyes glassy and voice wavering, your bottom lip is quivering, on the verge of tears of pure fear that Jungkook would resent you for your decision. “I told the recruiter to give that position away to someone else.”

“And why would I be mad at that?” He says, pulling you into his embrace, pressing a chaste kiss against your cheek before nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry I lashed out. I’m glad you came to that decision, I’m glad you’re telling this. Even if it’s not on the sidelines of the swimming pool with me, nagging at me what to do. Because you’ll still be there to support me.”

Your shoulders slouch, still feeling guilty wash over you like a tidal wave. “I just didn’t want you to be upset because of how much effort you went through to get me there. To even get me that offer.”

“I didn’t do anything, love.” Before a tear can escape further down your face, he swipes it away with the pad of his thumb after he pulls away. “You did that all yourself. They found you, knew who you were, and loved you. I just led them to find you. So, what did you decide on instead if you didn’t take that apprenticeship? Are you attending another University?”

“No,” You respond abruptly, rubbing your head into his chest again, muttering your next words into the fabric of his shirt. “She told me that it doesn’t take away my opportunity to still attend University there. So I enrolled there as undecided.”

There’s silence between the two of you before he finally speaks up. “Undecided?”

You don’t want to face him. Especially if the expression on his face may show disappointment, and that’s the least thing you want to do to Jungkook on your list. “Yes.” You mumble. “I didn’t know what I wanted to do, but I thought at least going to college and trying to figure out while I’m there would be at least a start in the right direction.”

Grasping you by the shoulders, he tugs you away to clearly see your face. Finally meeting his gaze, his face showed the opposite. A gleaming smile pulling on the edges of his lips with eyes that shine and sparkle underneath this lighting, you’re stunned by his reaction. “I’m so proud of you!”

“What?” Lips swollen from the crying, you pout, almost bursting out in hyperventilating tears because you didn’t want this to end before college even starts. “You chose something. You made a decision on your own, solely based on what you felt was the best for you, not because you wanted to make someone else happy. That’s all I ever wanted for you.” Jungkook is effortlessly unselfish because he wants you to be his personal coach, yet he’s telling you to do what you want to do. “I just want you to be happy. I’m happy if you are.”

“But... I should be honest with you.” He’s the one who seems uneasy now, chewing on his bottom lip anxiously. “I... not only accepted the scholarship, but they want to send me to the States for a couple months in the summer for training with Taehyung.”

You’re not stupid. What that’s code for is that there’s a chance they’re going to keep Jungkook there, offer him another University scholarship elsewhere in the States, and continue his training. How could they not? With the way he swims, his drive and ability to adapt to any situation, he’s desirable to any team. He might not be yours anymore, and as much as you wished you could keep him all to yourself, he’s Jungkook. Who wouldn’t want him?

You learned that ever since you met him. Jungkook is so wonderful, he’s meant to be shared, and everyone should know him. He’s the spark in your life that you never knew you needed until you meet him. 

It only sucked because it felt like once you finally got him, it’s already time to let him go. 

Yet when you see him standing by your side in the crowd of people in your class, on a large patch of grass that they call a football field, cap and gown in the shades of your school colors, you can’t hate anyone for wanting a piece of him. He’s only eighteen but he’s managed to accomplish so many of his goals in such a short span of time. He’s able to catch the attention of an audience bigger than the crowd at Madison Square Garden. He was able to swoon the majority of the female population in your high school. Jungkook did what even he thought was impossible, he did more than exceed his own expectations.

So when you’re standing with your diplomas in hand after throwing your cap in the air, the grin that’s glued onto his face does everything to your heart. How lucky were you to experience a first love like Jeon Jungkook?

There wasn’t much time left. Graduation is over, degrees now in hand, and futures that are waiting for your attendance.

It’s Summer again, the excruciating heat beaming from the sun’s rays reappearing, an entire year passing by since your confession to Jungkook. Although you’d rather be spending your anniversary in the next few days leading up to it, there’s a different occasion tonight under this familiar sweltering heat.

Jungkook leaves tomorrow at noon for America yet he’s procrastinating the remaining stuff he needs to pack for his trip. Well, he says it’s a trip, but you have a feeling that his stay is going to be longer than anticipated.

If you’re being truly honest with yourself, you’re scared. Eighteen, best friend/boyfriend who had been with you your entire life is leaving for the unknown. Your other best friend is leaving to pursue her dreams elsewhere as well, alone and without anyone to support her physically.

But you can’t help but think about yourself. What did this mean for you, someone who was losing the most important people in her life that were all going to hunt their aspirations, while you were just... undecided?

Laying in the field of grass, head resting comfortably on Jungkook’s arm while his other sits on his chest, the two of you admire the sunset in the midst of your silence. The hues of red, pink, orange, and yellow fill the sky, dancing and blurring into one another, gifting you a sight that you’re grateful to view with Jungkook. It was going to be a while before you got to see him again, and you’re hopeful that it’ll feel just the same.

“Three months,” He’d repeat constantly, every time he sees the pain in your expression. You both had gone so long without truly being each other, and now that you finally fessed up your hidden emotions, it’s hard to let go. “It’s only going to be for three months. Then you’d have me again.”

“But you don’t know that.” You’d say, heart tightening in agony. “There’s so much of this world that wants you, Jungkook. University is just one of the potential first stops. Someone is going to take you away, whether you like it or not. You just have too much talent and potential.” Jungkook doesn’t agree with you, but he doesn’t voice this. Not tonight, at least, if it’s the last time he gets to be with you for a while. 

Just like the sun, Jungkook eventually has to go away. He leaves for the States with Taehyung to train for the summer, projecting that he’d be back in time for the fall semester to start University with you. Even through texts and phone calls you get from him, he can’t give you a date when he’d be back, but he misses you dearly. You want to stay hopeful that he does return, attending classes with you again, study-dates, meeting up for coffee afterwards, have lunch and dinner, and continue your sleepovers, maybe even find an apartment and move in together. 

Yet again, Jungkook... he’s effortlessly Jungkook. The guy loved by everyone, yet has the hardest time loving himself. The guy who has such a promising future, one that’s almost a guaranteed dream come true for him. There’s no need for exchanges of ‘I love yous,’ because you know he does, yet you don’t want to hold him back, so you let him go. Whether or not he comes back for the fall semester, you’re not sure, but one thing you do know is that Jeon Jungkook will be your first everything, and your current everything.

[jiminrings]

honestly i could talk w band!hobi abt numbers all day, like i wouldn't even mind. what are ur thoughts on 27 hobi? i think they a bad bitch. also UM might i request a drabble abt like a film major! yn (that is very enthusiastic abt films and the aesthetics + cinematography and whatnot) w like,,, a theatre kid?? any of ot7 works fine and it's all good if u can't or don't want to! thankyouu 💜

muse of mine

pairing: namjoon x y/n

wordcount: 4k

glimpse: namjoon’s always been a little sensitive to feedback whether it’s positive or negative, y/n’s an endearing type of talker, and smuggled snacks to the theater haven’t ever tasted this sweet :D // gif from pinterest!

notes: i kinda switched it up a lil bit and made them more established in their respective fields bc my mind went berserk on this concept!!! also this is mayhaps my oNLY piece that’s just pure fluff

“27? The number? Hmm. That sounds... sexy.” - band!hobi

this been’s bugging you for the past half hour

this whole experience feels oddly familiar

you’ve been in this theater for half an hour so far to watch this play!!

lmao ur gonna admit RIGHT off the bat that theatre’s definitely not it for you

your slight unfondness for it is deeply-rooted back to university and for four years, you’ve consistently taken dumps on theatre kids even if it’s under your breath

alright it’s possible that you don’t hATE the actual people ( only some of them ;D ) themselves but rather this whole type of cockiness and the “i’m a direct descendant of shakespeare himself. trust me bro. on god” energy that they always seem to exhude

but realistically, maybe this deep-rooted hate stemmed from seokjin

he was the guy you’d share the exact same elective class with him for two straight whole semesters and you’ve been seatmates from time to time

homie took foreign language as an elective?????

the language is korean?????????????????

“wait b-but i — aren’t you — n-no but i really???”

that’s what you first sputtered to him in realization when he took his seat beside you

the two of you have only ever shown each other notes bc the other was dozing off and the occasional sharing of gummy bears that’s already pre-opened to not make any noise

but for some reason, it’s only dawned in you why seokjin’s a god in this class and he answers your questions without even looking at his notes by hALFWAY through the whole semester of foreign language

one day, u are gonna find a way to bodyslam yourself and never recover from it ever again

“mhmm. don’t sweat it, sweetheart. i personally think it’s very don quixote of me to y’know, take something as impractical and amusing as this.”

you snort at his choice of words because honestly!! you barely remember don quixote and jin’s use of it as an adjective jigs up a refresher course on your brain

who was he again?? 

was he the donkey

.. or are you thinking about shrek again because of your film analysis

you sWEAR there was a donkey in that story

it’s good fun to talk with jin even if he keeps sliding bourgeoisie words here and there and you’re a lil confused with all these references that he makes but that’s okay !!!

atleast even him saying it in a long-winded way that he was like someone from the merchant of somewhere, you know now that he pretty-pleased and charmed his way to the registrar for him to take korean as an elective

...

two weeks later, jin sits next to you in class 

in ACTUAL non-elective, non-native language he already speaks class

now that you’re squinting a bit more, jin does look a little uh?? different

his hair that was once a hybrid of lavender and peach and pink and then blonde was now wholly black and it’s probably his original hair color because it matches with those eyebrows of his!!!

his combo of a black bomber jacket with a silk button-up underneath honestly SLAPS and it makes you forget how he used to exclusively wear only knitted shirts and argyle-patterned cardigans

you have ur jaw dropped because you totally would’ve fallen for seokjin jAW-FIRST 

— if only he didn’t strike you as the brother type when he smacked the back of your head because you were falling asleep on class again and uhhh you mUst be forgetting that the two of you were sitting in front

you had no time to reevaluate whether you should develop a crush for him or not 

he’s immediately slapping his hands on his knees, looking at you so intensely before pointing a finger at you with so much conviction, and then scoffing to himself

“switched majors to film. theatre was gonna be the death of me!!! y/n, if you even think about trying to switch to that cheap, amazon-ordered quill and tanning lights for stage lighting major, you’re absolutely dEAD to me-”

you’ve never had a conversation this striking nor long with jin but you genuinely have no complaints at all

seokjin talks pure shit about theatre and theatre junkies and everything in between for the WHOLE day 

trails beside you for every single class you had, which was convenient because he can then sweet-talk his way again (if anybody even dared to question him) that he’s just newly-switched 

sat with you for lunch and him not eating because he just needS to tell you all about it and you trying not to choke on your pasta as you try to reply to him

followed you back hOME and decided to crash the night there

yeah, that. your unfondness for theatre’s rooted on that one

uh-huh safe to say that you’ve become best friends with jin ever since that day

you’re a sponge for your friends and jin’s the closest one you have, so it was only natural that you soak up his distastes and whatnot

not to brag but aha :D

you add salt to the water while you boil pasta so u may be a little bit of a masterchef or somewhat, no big deal :D

he’s absorbed your fascination for all kinds of lights and fixtures that he has about seven different nightlights in the form of squishies or neon and everything else on his bedside table, in which he turns all of them on at night

fun fact: he’s capable of sleeping in the dark

jin’s the whole reason for your stance on this

he’s adamant about his points and you’ve graduated uni four years ago!!!

which is why you DON’T get why jin would give you a scented black envelope, with “don’t come to this” scribbled in gold at the front, carrying a single ticket to this play with a sticky note saying “don’t watch this at 7 pm, wearing your boss lady year-end award show type of clothes, sitting at the ninth row from the back and two seats from your right.”

because of course!! what the hell did he expect you to do? NOT come to this play at 7 pm wearing your boss lady year-end award show type of clothes then sitting at the ninth row from the back, two seats from the right???

OF COURSE YOU WOULD

your goal in life is to do exactly the opposite of what jin tells you. there’s literally nothing else in life you’d want to fulfill

he’s made it quite easy for you to spite him and although you wouldn’t admit it.,,.,., you may be a little petty ok

he’s the even bigger goof out of the two of you and you can never have the final say!! it’s always him and his wit and yOU being the dunce

it’s a lil sus that jin’s basically ASKING for it with his instructions but whatever

whatever it is, this is finally your chance to enact the final say and you’re gonna pull ALL the stops

all you know about theater-goers is that they dress fancy and wear these mini binoculars and that’s about it

there’s not even one film you know that you see anyone in the audience wearing a worn-in cardigan or even a puffer jacket even if the theater’s mad cold

all the people bring are scarves and shawls???? thee thinnest version of a blanket that won’t warm them up against the frigid airconditioning

that whole dress code sounds ridiculous!!! great please ring out this thousand-dollar dress im gonna wear to the theater thank u

you’re a little worried that you’re not gonna blend into the crowd, but after some digging about the invitation, formal wear is most definitely recommended

it’s an exclusive invite-only play which would be later released to the general public later on so yeah the situation dOES call for a gown thank u very much

also how could you forget that jin explicitly told you not to wear this type of attire

if you’re being humble right now, which you always normally are, even if that jUST sounded boastful talking about how you’re humble all the time —

you do look pretty breath-taking :-)

even when the doors weren’t opened and everyone’s just collectively loitering outside the hall, you’d feel glances at you

the sweet security guard did a double-take at you and mumbled a “very very nice evening to you, miss :D” instead of his normal “enjoy the show!” to the other patrons before you

you’re gonna soak all the silent compliments up and try to remember all of them before writing them on your journal later hee-hee

your midnight blue satin dress that’s floor-length and off-shoulder is dEFINITELY in your favor :D

your dress still glimmers even if the spotlight isn’t on you and you wish you weren’t shy to ask a random stranger to take a picture of you

going on self-timer isn’t ideal either when there’s like a hundred other people in the room

they probably wouldn’t even care if you took a picture of yourself!!! but in your head they probably think that you’re laughable so you’d rather not.. do that

the theater’s dark as hell if that wasn’t established

it is literally pitch black in the room and the ushers at each row holding the flashlights that are meant to guide the patrons aren’t exactly helpful

big kudos to them though,, must take a lot of self-control to not wave their lights like it was a rave :D

a flashlight tHAT bright?? whew pls is this what ships feel in the night

the last time you were in a rave, your thirty minutes of fun was cut short when seokjin immediately got hammered and wouldn’t stop throwing a fit if you didn’t drive him home that instant

his energy seemed to compelling everyone that he’s managed to somehow suck the energy out of a WHOLE rave so you took him home for everyone’s enjoyment :(((( except yours apparently

you’re trying hard to focus on the play that’s happening because for the past twenty minutes, all you’ve done is zone out randomly with ideas all of a sudden 

you NEED to listen

....

uh-huh...

UH-HUH......

wait this is actually.. good

you find plays hard to follow and absolutely boring when you don’t immerse yourself in a run-down PRIOR to watching it in order to get

it’s the same analogy as reading the plot of a movie on wikipedia before watching the movie at the cinema.... absolutely useless

it sucks out the fun from something you weren’t supposed to know

watching plays is two hours of you being confused, going home to read the plot and only understand it by tHEN, and never coming to the theater again because you’d waste your money.... watching something cluelessly in the theater..... for a plot you’d grasp at home

but no

because this one

actually this one that you’re watching...

it’s not bad

it’s nice, actually.

within two minutes, you managed to grasp that it’s a story about a never-ending spring between these two lovers

there’s something about the whole setting of it actually that just sucks you in

in some plays, the outfits would seem so forced even in the given context that it reminds you of uh a particular superhero movie

and yes ur aware that stage makeup has to be enhanced so that people all the way to the back row would see

but there’s just something in this scene that’s laid out right-now that actually gets you in awe

it’s of the couple in the back of their pick-up truck and everything about it seems so natural

the background straight up looks like what it’d be if you were to go outside

the guy’s arm around her shoulder seems so natural and in nature that it doesn’t feel like a random cue in the script

the girl twinkles and it doesn’t even feel like a forced type of laugh you’d cue in attempt to warm the audience’s hearts

it’s of a plot where the the guy eventually falls out of love with the girl, while girl gets even more smitten with the guy at the same time

it’s what you take from the past ten minutes that you watch in dead silence, and you don’t even remember in the back of your head that you’re supposed to hate plays

“no way.”

you mumble in disbelief under your breath, head shaking profusely

is your mind playing tricks on you???

you’ve got too used to seokjin sitting beside you that you immediately turn to your right, whispering out your concerns 

“is it just me or is she wearing a different shade of pink?”

you don’t even buffer for one second when you ask the stranger beside you

you’re so concerned that you’re looking at him intently while waiting for his answer that could either console or despair you, a random theater-goer that’s too noisy with her questions for her own good

it’s absolutely dARK as fuck in the theater but after awhile your eyes adjusted slightly

and the first thing you look at after the stage is him

him as in the dude in your right that you just asked all of a sudden

you could only see his silhouette and the faintest features of his face along with his well-dressed suit but god

... you are totally not lying if you say that even the barest silhouette of him doesn’t look handsome

you’re expecting him to tell you off for being so noisy but instead, he’s the one who takes you by surprise

“how did you notice that?” 

:O

“oh my god!” you exclaim almost too loudly that you yourself even jolts, the guy even making you duck with him slightly for a brief second, “im sO sorry!! am i accidentally spoiling it out for you?”

the guy blinks twice, lips slightly parted before shaking his head no

“no, no... this is the first screening — i mean uh, how would you know that?”

oh boy

you’re adjusting yourself on your seat, bum now warm as you try to explain and not be nervous because what if you just made a wrong assumption about this play and you’re sitting next to a goddamn tHEATRE BUFF???

“well i —uh, uhm what’s your name?” you’re flustered and the FIRST thing you ask is what was his name.,.,,

he seems equally as flustered before he adjusts his glasses, “o-oh uhm i’m namjoon...?”

alright! handsome guy is namjoon!

“you see, namjoon — okay it might just be in my head, but i tHINK it looks deeper with the light somehow. but uh...? the spotlight’s not following her and — is it just me or without the light, her sweater looks brown?”

you’re squinting and if u squint even more, maybe your contacts would just crumple by then

hold on a second

“brown, like — oh my gOD LIKE-”

namjoon puts a hand over his mouth before you could even gasp, hand reaching out for your forearm even before you manage to grasp his shoulder to take it in realization

was it under your nose the whole time??

“... fall.”

:D

holy fucking shit

namjoon looks positively euphoric looking at your face of realization, his once-heavy chest about the whole scene becoming completely devoid of weight

“exactly!!”

his confirmation makes you inwardly squeal, grinning as you point at him and the stage back and forth

“i think this is the first play i’ve become ever interested in watching.”

okay what now

his ears perk up at that, your first sentence that you’ve said after your pink sweater that looks like spring also looks brown like fall in certain scene because of the lighting realization

“it is?”

he takes the chance to look at you as best as he could, trying to play his squinting as cool as he can

namjoon’s far sighted and the glasses he’s wearing are nOT up to date with his current grade bc he’s pretty sure his eyesight’s worsened the past month

he can’t make you out wholly, but he does know that you’re pretty

his eyes don’t linger on you because of the snacks you’re fishing from your purse while you talk that are absolutely illegal in this theater house lmao

but instead, his gaze lingers on you because you’re so pretty

the minimal light that’s bouncing off the stage is enough for him to see a faint outline of your features, highlighting your smiles just right and your dress to glint underneath

“mhmm. i actually hate plays,” suddenly, you’re not scared if namjoon happens to be some sort of theatre buff and you’re offending him because honestly, you feel at ease. “crunch?” you’re holding out the mini bar of chocolate out to him, one he politely declines to because his eyes are bulging out the next second

“you do????”

his genuine reaction indulges you, making you grin ultimately that you put off eating snacks for now to focus on him

“yeah! this is my hate outfit :D”

namjoon giggles as if it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard

you automatically scoot closer because this time, it’s yOUR turn to shush him

this is totally for just the reason of talking more discreetly and not distracting anyone and is totally not an excuse to be closer to the next guy and touch shoulders with him then get a whiff of cologne because it’s rare for a guy to be handsome and aLSO smell good

your eyes get used to the darkness and eventually, you could make out features of namjoon beside you

he has the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen

and the way he looks at you makes you feel safe and even your height difference is visible with how probably lonG his torso is compared to yours, his gaze doesn’t make you feel small

namjoon’s still (unsurprisingly) far-sighted and ur so close that he’s a lil cross-eyed 

fuck it he’s gonna go to ophthalmologist FIRST thing in the morning tomorrow

“then why are you here?”

“my friend seokjin,” you lean back upon realizing the original reason why you’re here, the situation being so ironic that you puff out a smile

your friend’s named seokjin?

cool :D kim seokjin is namjoon’s of his favorite directors eVER!!

second best for him actually though.,., no one could quite compare to his first

your explanation makes him cackle several times, a swell of pride recounting why you hate (it’ll be past tense probably after this one) theatre 

“what about you?”

you turn the question to him, making his dimples disappear effectively that you think you’ve just spooked him

“i uh, well i always wanted to see a story that went like this, so i’m here.”

“you’re a critic? oh god. please don’t tell me you heard all my mumbles.”

no this is even WORSE

namjoon’s not a theatre buff

HE’S A CRITIC????????????

god im coming up

“don’t worry, i also think that the drapings must probably be dirty.”

he breaks out into a smile recounting how you were talking to yourself earlier, a snort escaping him involuntarily 

“RIGHT??? it’s like how do you even clean them?? do they fit in washing machines or-”

my god he’s such a nice guy!!!

in fact, he’s everything you want in a guy

you’ve went through atleast twelve facets of emotions for the past hour and you’re not even dating!!!!!!!

“my thoughts exactly!! and if it’s by hand, how do you even scrub the entirety of it?? or wring the water out??”

namjoon KNOWS exactly what’s up :’)

“is there even a clothesline that’d bEAR the weight??”

the two of you are so happy that you just look at each other laughing, a moment in time before namjoon nudges you to lean back because the ending’s happening

you don’t even question him how he’d know that it’s the ending and not just another opening to a new scene, just listening to him

you’re so happy

the play made you happy but namjoon made you even happier :-)

“if you are a critic, you should probably open up your review with this chatty play-hating girl beside you, then at the end, close it off with how she loves it.”

it’s the parting conversation as you realize and holy fuck you are nOT ready for it

you r gonna drag this out for as long as you could <3

......

and namjoon wants in too <3

“noted. if i was a playwright, i’d even make you the lead. which detail should i include? offering me wrapper-covered rice crispy snacks, or asking how you’d watch it while going thru the bathroom?”

this feels so natural

as natural as the couple in the play you’ve just finished watching :))

“you’re hilarious,” you’re not even the slightest bit annoyed and your restrained smile tells him all about it

yea you may have brought in snacks illegally but you aRE gathering your trash up as you’re a decent human being

namjoon wishes you’d pick up after yourself slowly, standing up from his seat as he has the plan of picking up trash that isn’t even his

“what name should i put then?”

you’re silent and oh god he thinks you found his company stupid and would definitely not give him your name

you’re not ignoring him though!!!

his words are still stuck in your head, realizing it lately with his “which detail should i include?”

“me wanting to turn this into a film, actually.”

you test the words out on your tongue, nodding to yourself after a few seconds that you seem so sure of it

“yeah. i wanna make it into a film.”

the lights turn on after being dim for so long, namjoon’s eyes going wide trying to digest what you’ve just said

“w-what?

.....

no fucking way

HOLY FUCKING SHIT SWFRWFBWRHGBRBVWRV SWBHJSDB SHJAVBHGJDS BWHRGHBSVWBGRH

namjoon’s malfunctioning as he’s looking at you from eye to eye, bottom lip trembling while he’s so keen at pointing at you

“y-you’re miss y/n!!”

....

right

oH RIGHT

he’s a fan of yours??

namjoon’s fanning his face because he’s about to literally burst into tears

how could he nOT???

how could he not be emotional when all along, he’s been talking to his number one favorite director????

you and your films are the absolute gems of his life namjoon’s not even kidding

your films were world-renowned for being so natural and sentimental without loading too much into it!!!! you’re known for being so humble through the multiple back-to-back awards and praise you get!!!! 

he cannot calm the fUCK down when you’re rubbing circles on his back

“you w-want to turn my play into a film?”

oh my gOD

you’re fumbling for the envelope and it’s only nOW that you realize that it’s not from seokjin in the first place

spring day a play by kim namjoon an invite for director y/n y/l/n

“it’s you!!!!”

“no it’s YOU!!”

jin’s plan worked alright :D

he’s just FOUR rows behind you lmao

it was just two weeks ago when yoongi, the executive producer of his film that he was directing, let it slip that he was co-financing a play

he met yoongi some semesters later after he became close with you, and he’s aLSO converted yoongi into hating theatre then he fit right in to your little posse of theatre kid-hating film students

that gave jin the laugh of his laugh and yoongi was not joking at all

“no, no. i’m telling you man. it’s different! i even have the script that i’ll let you read.”

and holy shit it IS different

if you see a couple tears on the last seven pages of yoongi’s copy of spring day’s script then mind yo oWN fucking business

then two weeks later, here he is :D

jin managed to also convert you to love theatre even IF it is namjoon’s play that did all the work

( also coincidentally found you a future boyfriend because he’s tired of seeing you alone and the closest you’d get to having someone is projecting your yearning into writing the scripts for the films you’d make )

he’s also secretly co-financed the whole play along with yoongi and he’ll drop that bomb later on lmao

“and that must mean i looked like a total FOOL beside you oh my god im so sorry!!”

namjoon panics at that, about to cry when another realization hits him when he’s about to put his head on his hands

“then that means the friend who gave you the ticket was-”

SEOKJIN VBFHSBVHSFBVSFHDVBSJFV SFJVJSFVSJVSSV SSV V FS FSV SFBVRBVRSVSWVGU

he cries to your shoulder and you never expected to be hugging and consoling someone you’ve just met two hours ago, a more than fond smile on your face he takes advantage of when he sneaks in the chance to ask you

“do you mean that?”

“now why would i lie to the playwright who’s been listening to me talk shit, then theorizing, then crying for the past hour?”

it’s true though

namjoon’s seen it all

he’s still handsome as ever even when he sniffles, his dimples on display when you return his question

“now did you mean it? writing me into your play?”

why are you even ASKING

:D

he’s the biggest fan of u

namjoon’s made notes of your work, dedicated scripts to your movies, and he’s thinking about how it’s not yet hitting you how your whole epiphany about the pink sweater turning brown on his play,,, was entirely inspired from you and your affinity for lighting in your films

he thinks it’s still a little early to kiss you on the cheek even if you’ve already hugged, instead settling on pinching your cheek with satisfaction present in all corners

“you’ve always been my muse.”

[crystaljins]

River lead me home | 01

Characters: Seokjin x Reader

Word count: 9.2k

Synopsis:  Ever since coming to the human realm when you were child, nothing seems to fit, and this was just supposed to be a simple roadtrip to help you find yourself.

Is that too much to ask for?

Spin-off to A long journey home

Rating: Teens

Notes: You guys are gonna laugh... I tried to upload this yesterday but it screwed up and only the title got posted! Naturally I deleted the post and didn’t get a chance to fix everything up, but it’s finally here! My monster of a fic !!!! Updates will be weekly. Honestly this fic took a lot to write, and it’s been 8 whole months of working on it!!! So I hope you guys enjoy it T.T If not I won’t be made though LOL (edit: @blue1928​ forgot to tag u soz)

p.s. I AM working on the HP prompts I’m just really busy this next couple of weeks LOL

Masterlist

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 FINAL

You’ve never really been particularly fearful of getting in trouble with your mother. She has always been a sweet and timid lady, the kind who would let her daughter get away with murder. And you are an adult, even if you don’t act like it, and so it’s not like your mother can do anything other than express her disappointment with your actions. 

Kim Seokjin, on the other hand, can have you quaking in your shoes with just a look. He was your nextdoor neighbour growing up, even before you all fled your home realm. He has since moved out of his parents’ home into his own apartment to pursue his dream as a doctor (and to take home as many lady friends as he likes without his parents’ knowledge), but he is still very much a stern presence in your life, even as one of your closest friends. He likely feels responsible for you, since though the two of you were young when you were driven into the human world, he is three years older. He did once refer to you as something like an untrained puppy, which you guess is very reflective of how he views you. The result of such feelings of responsibility is him trying his best to fulfill all the duties of being your legal guardian despite having no obligation to do so. The effect is him being terrifyingly stern with you, despite him being a calm, good-humoured guy with everyone else he meets.

Which is why, when you wake up in a hospital bed with your leg wrapped in a cast, you know that today is the day Kim Seokjin kills you. If the job interview that you completely messed up isn’t enough motive for him to seek you out, then the fact that you tried to stop a purse snatcher and ended up breaking your leg in the ensuing scuffle after said thief’s motorcycle fell on you most certainly is. 

In your defence, it wasn’t like you could just leave them be! Yes, you had not been back to your home realm once in the thirteen years since you and every other guardian were driven out, but at your core, you like to think you are still a Guardian. And so, as is custom, you cannot turn down a plea for help. And the young woman screaming in distress as a man on a motorcycle drove past and snatched her purse straight off her shoulder had certainly sounded like a plea for help! Really, Jin should be impressed, because the ensuing chase was something straight out of a movie, what with you in hot pursuit on your own bike (the one both your mother and Jin do not know you own). And you totally would have gotten the purse back if it wasn’t for the slight motorcycle crash. You’re not exactly sure what you hit since the events are a little blurry, but whatever it was, it ended up knocking you out and breaking your leg. 

A slight commotion breaks out at the entrance to the room and by the way onlookers swoon, you know that your time on earth is up. For the only person that can stir such a reaction upon entering a room is Kim Seokjin himself. Guardians naturally fit most of the qualifiers of what humans consider attractive, but even by Guardian standards, Jin is ridiculously handsome. Even though you find him boring and the biggest nag to walk the planet, not even you are immune to his disarming good looks. You could probably sense his aura blindfolded and your eyes are always drawn to him in a crowd and so you easily pinpoint him amongst the crowd of onlookers before he spots you. Today is his day off and so he does not wear his usual doctor’s gown. Instead a well fitted button up shirt and trousers highlights the broadness of his shoulders and the elegance of his figure as he strolls through the room as if he owns it. You recognise the style- that particular combination of button up and trousers are his date clothes. Your heart plummets when you recognise the outfit. Jin will be extra irritated about having to check on you in the hospital on his day off. Why did the paramedics have to take you here of all places? You’ve really signed your life away this time.

He pauses to smile at a nurse who passes by and she is immediately dazzled. Though he is no doubt furious with you, and is frequently irritated by your shenanigans, to the rest of the world he is charming and funny and good-tempered. You watch the exchange with curiosity- the nurse laughs at something Jin says and there’s a faint flush to her cheeks. You will probably never have such an exchange with Jin- even if he relaxed enough to make a joke in your presence, it would probably be at your expense. Jin’s taste in women is very obvious- he likes women that match him in beauty, ones that are fantastic at making you feel like a potato in comparison despite your guardian heritage, however unintentionally. Something in you twinges at the thought- you wouldn’t mind having a normal relationship with Jin. One where he smiles at you and makes jokes and actually enjoys your presence. But he’ll probably never view you like that- he’s made it very clear throughout your friendship what you are to him.

The nurse points in your direction and takes Jin’s distraction as an opportunity to trail her gaze appreciatively over his figure, settling on his profile. She must be new to the hospital if this is the first time that she is experiencing what Jin’s coworkers at the hospital describe as the “Jin effect”. Any humans (and most guardians for that matter) who meet him instantly succumb to his charisma and absurdly handsome face and find themselves desperately in love. This nurse is no exception and you decide to utilise the momentary distraction she has provided Jin when she attempts to get his number by attempting to slide off your bed and scurry away.

A tug at the back of your collar has you stiffening. If this were a movie, there would be an uneasy swell of high-tension violin as you turn your head to find Jin has grabbed the back of your shirt to stop your slow escape. He must have utilised a spot of enhanced guardian speed to be able to cross the room so quickly. The violins in your head begin to screech in terror. Jin merely smiles and it is eerily charming. His cheeks puff out and his lips curl in a way that would dazzle the average onlooker but you see the lethal intent in his eyes. You barely manage to hold back a fearful shudder.

“Nurse Jo!” He calls, and his tone is playful and sweet which contrasts directly with the venom in his dark pupils. In their depths you can foresee your death. “It seems one of our patients is trying to escape.” His tone darkens and drops on the last word and you flinch, preparing for the end.

Only it never comes, and you find Jin hoisting you up by the back of your shirt and with the help of security rushing forward they wrangle you back into bed. They do well- the average human doesn’t stand much chance against the superior strength of a guardian, and you are currently fighting for your life. But with Jin in the mix, they have you strapped to your bed in no time, forced to listen to whatever longwinded and painful lecture Jin has prepared for you

He stands at your bedside, arms folded across his chest. You mentally write your will in your mind- Taehyung can have your Nintendo switch and his girlfriend can go through your clothes and take any that she likes. Your mother gets anything worth more than $20 in your bedroom (though she might be searching for a while to find such an item, if it even exists) and Seokjin can get custody of your evil cat. Maybe it’ll scratch his stupidly handsome face up and you can get revenge from beyond the grave. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Jin asks, and his voice is surprisingly calm. You look away, scratching at where the cast on your leg rubs at the skin of your shin. It’s stupid to wear the cast since with your enhanced healing abilities the break will be better by tomorrow, but the doctors of this world do not know that. 

You are not fooled by the almost friendly, interested tone to his voice- there is anger bubbling behind the mask of polite curiosity. Likely he is holding back to full force of his fury because this is his workplace.

“Well, I’d like to preface by saying I had no choice. Was I supposed to just let the robber go?” You say. You were attempting to placate him before elaborating on the full story, but it appears to have the opposite effect. Jin’s eyes bulge out of his head and his face goes that interesting shade of red that only appears when he’s very, very angry. 

“Robber? You took on a robber?” He says slowly, and you can tell it takes a few moments for the words to process. But gradually, the veins in his neck bulge and his eyes gradually widen and you wince as Jin erupts into what you like to call his “jants- Jin Rants.”. “Ya! Are you crazy? What were you thinking? What if you had been killed? I would have had to tell Auntie and then I would have had to organise your funeral because she would be inconsolable! If I even survived my parents trying to kill me for letting you die at the hands of a ROBBER of all people!” The impressive thing about a jant is the speed at which it is spat out. You are sure that professional rappers have nothing on the way Jin can spill out verses in a rage. He shoves a hand through his hair in distress and the ensuing messy look it generates is unfairly attractive- you think you see a middle-aged woman swoon in the hospital bed across from yours. Or faint. It’s hard to tell in a hospital. He continues screeching. “And then they’d PROBABLY make me MOVE BACK HOME as PUNISHMENT and there goes my social life! You could have ruined MY WHOLE LIFE, (Y/N)! What is wrong with you? Why do you always go making trouble like this?” It is those words, out of his whole rant, oddly enough, that causes you to stiffen. The implication that all you do is cause trouble. Which in a way you suppose you do. You cause your mother unnecessary worry- Jin is constantly sacrificing things to take care of you. Even your friends are constantly having to shout you meals due to your perpetual state of unemployment.

“I... couldn’t just leave it- they needed help, Jin.” You admit softly. Jin somehow hears your quiet admission over his furious jant and falls silent. He stares at you in confusion for a long moment, like he was expecting more of a fight, or some sort of annoying comeback. But the confusion is enough to subside his rage. The jant is over, with minimal damage. He drags over a chair and slumps by your bedside, once more running a hand through his hair. 

“You’re so reckless. Robber’s rarely pull stunts like that unarmed! You may have enhanced healing compared to a human, but you still die if someone stabs you! And this is your third ER trip this month!” He scolds and his tone is far gentler than before- not unlike how one might speak to a child, rather than someone a mere three years younger than him. You meekly bow your head, chastised. “How do you think auntie would feel if anything happened to you, (Y/N)? You may be a Guardian, but Guardians aren’t invincible. You, of all people, should know that.”

You flinch, feeling as though he’s slapped you. He’s clearly furious with you if he’s willing to choose such a sore spot to shame you. For the thirteen years you have been in the human realm, it has just been you and your mother. You have not been able to forget that fact for a single day. Every day you awaken afresh with the reminder that there is a third member to your family who should be there but is not. Your father’s life was lost as you all fled, and your mother had found herself widowed with a headstrong young child in a foreign and unfamiliar realm. Jin’s family have always been around to help because you haven’t exactly been an easy child to raise, but there are some burdens that no one can lift from a single parent.

 And you love your mother, and you really would do anything for your her. It’s just... you don’t want to pretend that you’re a human. For your entire time here, your guise as a human has felt like an itchy, poorly fitted jacket that you want to peel off and throw away. Humans are selfish and lazy and would leave a child on the side of the road and they’d been very quick to notice that you were different and target you for it- these are all things your father hated. To be human is to spit on the sacrifice he made for you... and yet to continue to fight it is also disregarding that he gave up his life to let you live in comfort. 

Jin, with his handsome face and ability to charm anyone he meets instantly, has never had an issue settling into the human realm, and so he’s never really understood why you cling so much to your former home realm. He knows that you’ve never truly stopped grieving the life of your father, but he cannot understand why you do not see the human world the way that he does. He had very much taken to being a human and enjoys all the perks that come with it- the technology, the fawning women, the interesting and unique cuisines... Jin adores human culture. And so, it irks him that you constantly seem to be sticking out like a sore thumb. 

“I’m sorry.” You say in a small voice and you’re so downcast that you miss the way that Jin’s face crumples with guilt. 

“Just... try to be safer in the future. This realm has its own law enforcement. We don’t need to be guardians here.” He tells you softly. Then he clears his throat awkwardly. “How was the job interview?”

It’s an act of mercy- he’s trying to save you any further misery by changing the subject. Unfortunately, you have yet to break the news to Jin; you bombed the interview. Massively. It’s not like it was even a job you were that invested in. Just a fulltime job that involved doing some admin in an office. The exact, safe, boring job your mother has dreamed of for you since coming here and the exact job Jin has been pushing you to apply for because he’s sick of his parents nagging him to lend you money or take you out for dinner or give you lifts because your car broke down and you can’t afford to fix it. But you messed it up and you hate yourself for it. Hate yourself for disappointing your mother, and, if you’re really honest with yourself, for disappointing Jin. You’re already so aware of how lowly he views you and this just makes it sting that little bit more.

But it is the exact kind of job that will slowly kill you inside. You are trying to kill the part of you deep down that longs for something more. You don’t even know what it is you want. But killing that part and settling into this world and its ways and its customs mean giving in. It means forgetting. And for thirteen entire years, you have not been able to forget. How can you, when you left a piece of yourself back there, on the battlefield where your father had lost his life for your sake? He was not even given the luxury of a grave and yet you are supposed to be comfortable and post pictures on Instagram about how happy you are and go to brunch and just enjoy life? You... you can’t do it.

“I... don’t know.” You finally say. You shrug and glance away. “It felt like it went well. We’ll see if they call me back.”

Jin visibly brightens, unaware of your lie. 

“I knew I had a good feeling about today!” He says warmly. “You’re totally going to get that job, I can feel it in my bones. Finally, my parents will get off my back!” He cheers. He probably means the last part as a joke but it’s just another sting; another reminder that Jin just sees you as a burden.

His celebration session is interrupted by an alert on his apple watch. He glances at whatever notification appear and winces. He glances at you like he’s done something wrong.

“I’ve got to go. I uh… I have a date.” He confesses. Jin is always tentative when he talks about the women he sees, like he’s anticipating some sort of reaction from you. You don’t know what reaction that would be, though, and you don’t think you’d ever feed his ego with any reaction other than a mild disgust and indifference. When you just continue to stare, he nods, more to himself than you. “I still have to sort all your paperwork to make sure you can get discharged so I probably can’t stay with you for your discharge. You don’t need a lift home, do you? I’ll probably have to drive straight there.”

Normally you would accept- though your broken bone heals faster than a human’s, it is still highly painful and inconvenient. But the thought of being in the car with Jin right now is highly unappealing. For some reason, lately when you spend time with Jin, you just feel more and more aware of how inadequate you are. You can’t help but notice the way people gravitate towards Jin. The way their eyes are constantly seeking him out or how a room brightens when he steps into it. And it’s not just his looks- it’s his everything. His demeanour, his smile, his success. He has taken to the human world like a fish to water and you just can’t. It’s not like you don’t want to. But his presence, his nagging, his constant disappointment with you… it’s a persistent, painful reminder of everything you can’t bring yourself to be. Not even for him, as much as you sincerely hate constantly disappointing him like this.

He adjusts his watch as you shake your head.

“I’ll just get the bus. I can still walk.” You say, plastering a smile on your face that hopefully seems sincere. Jin glares at you and reaches out to tap a finger against the firm plaster of your cast.

“Fine, but this stays on until tomorrow. I don’t care how fast you heal- I don’t want that leg healing crooked. Your mother will definitely notice if you suddenly have an extra bend in your shin. And no more chasing robbers- not even if it’s an old grandma with a cane being robbed. We stopped being Guardians for a reason.” He warns you. He adjusts his shirt cuffs and pulls out his phone to adjust his hair in the selfie camera before glaring at you. “I won’t tell Auntie about today because I don’t want her to worry. You can stay at mine tonight, so she doesn’t ask any questions when you hobble home in a cast.”

“Thanks.” You say and he’s oblivious to the bleak tone in your voice and the way your expression is downcast. If there’s one thing that has Jin oblivious to the rest of the world, it’s the prospect of a date. “Is the code to get in still the same?”

“I changed it to your birthday because that stupid pixie that always hangs around you worked out the code and keeps leaving my sugar open on the counter. I’m getting so many ants. I’m pretty sure he’s leaving it open for them.” Jin tells you already halfway turned around. You wisely choose not to tell Jin that you had told Jungkook the code to Jin’s apartment. Jin pauses before he can stride off. “Oh yeah. Auntie texted me- she wanted me to make sure you remember to come to dinner tomorrow and that you dress nicely. She has something important to say.”

“She could have just texted me herself.” You mumble, but Jin has already walked off, probably to sort the last of your paperwork before his date. A trail of sighing onlookers watch his departure. It just makes you scoff as you return to glaring at your cast. It itches.

You make a promise to yourself to use Jin’s kitchen scissors to remove it tomorrow so that he has at least some kind of inconvenience in his life. Nothing is more irritating than a blunt pair of kitchen scissors.

++++

Despite seeing Jin’s mother every other day, and renting the apartment directly across from her, your mother always acts like the president is coming over whenever Jin’s family comes for dinner. She pulls out the fancy glass bowls and the plates she bought with her first paycheck from the diner she was employed at when you were small. She vacuums the whole apartment and checks your room to make sure you’ve cleaned it in case Jin needs a bed to nap on after a long day at the hospital. 

She’s never quite managed to get the hang of human cuisine and since the human realm doesn’t hold the magic stores available to cook Guardian food the way that she learned, you are always the one to make dinner. You’ve never once complained because you know that on some level, this is your mother’s attempt to compensate. This is the closest you will ever get to having a community with other Guardians, and Jin’s dad is the closest thing you will ever have to a father. 

But even despite her usual frantic state whenever there’s a joint family dinner, she definitely seems more frazzled than usual. 

“Is it meant to smell like that?” She asks with a grimace, leaning in to look at the salad you’ve thrown some vinaigrette over. You glance over your shoulder from where you are checking on the food in the oven. 

“Yes, mum.” You say, standing and gently nudging her from the kitchen with a smile. “It’s vinaigrette- you liked it last time when I made it, remember? It’s why I made it tonight.” 

Your mother digs her heels into the ground before you can drive her from the kitchen and send her back to wiping the already sparkling cabinets in the living room. She turns to scrutinise you carefully. 

“Are you going to do your hair? It looks a little messy.” She frets. You raise an eyebrow. This is new. Your sweet, doting mother has never once criticised your appearance, not even when you went through that phase where you had an eyebrow piercing and dyed your hair neon green. Something is up. 

“It’s just Auntie and Uncle, right?” You say suspiciously. “They used to bathe me when we lived in magregnum, mum.” You say. Using the original term for your home realm feels foreign on your tongue and your mother’s expression shutters at the sound of her original home. 

“Well, a lot has changed since then.” She says softly. You’re about to question the strange, unfamiliar expression on your mother’s face. Something looks different about her... you squint when you recognise the shimmer of your favourite eye shadow on her lids. 

“Are you wearing makeup?” You question. Her eyes go wide, and you can’t help but notice that her lashes are curled. But her answer is interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. Your mother pales and instantly she switches back into her jittery, pre-dinner self. 

“Quickly, quickly!” She urges. “Dinner’s not ready yet!” 

You shake your head with a smile at your mother’s familiar antics. 

“It’s probably just Jin- Auntie and Uncle always make him come over earlier to help.” You call over your shoulder. You’re in a far better mood than you were yesterday, particularly after bending Jin’s kitchen scissors beyond repair during your attempts to remove the cast this morning before heading out and pretending you hadn’t been fired from your part-time job the week before. You had punched one of the senior managers for bullying the new hire. Your leg was mostly healed at that stage and Jin had told you that you could take the cast off before he left for work that morning. When you arrived back home in the afternoon, your mother had either chosen not to comment on your slight limp or had been too distracted by the stress of having dinner to notice. You are glad to have evaded her sad, disappointed eyes and the unwarranted comparisons to Jin for the day.  

After a long few moments of peace in the kitchen, you can’t help but notice the lack of an annoying presence hovering over your shoulder. Usually when Jin arrives, he makes a beeline straight for the kitchen so that he can sample whatever it is you’re making and proclaim it decent (and then try and sneak some extra portions later in the evening when he thinks you aren’t looking). The complete lack of Jin’s presence to do whatever the kitchen equivalent of back seat driving is has you pausing with a sense of unease. It is the first clue that something is up- the door opens and yet the older guardian doesn’t make an appearance. Confused, you pause midway through pouring out melted chocolate from a glass measuring cup and glance over your shoulder. 

“Minyo Dolkara,” is your mother’s tentative call and your eyes widen at the term of endearment. It is a common one back in your home realm, but your mother only uses it to comfort you when she feels you are truly upset. She is knotting her fingers anxiously together and beside her stands an unfamiliar middle-aged man. He smiles warmly at you, and your gaze lands on the arm he holds carefully around your mother’s shoulder. Your grip tightens around the handle of the measuring cup. 

“Mum?” You ask, your tone laced with confusion. “Who’s this?”

Your mother swallows nervously and glances at the man in question. 

“This is... my love.” She confesses. “Nigel. We met at my night classes and I... He...”

“I’m her fiancé.” The man, Nigel corrects. He is a friendly, round sort of man. The kind of man often seen on tv playing father to a rebellious teenage daughter in a sitcom. And his smile is warm and excited, like he’s happy to meet you. He directs that smile to your mother, and rather than look disgusted or uncomfortable, she merely beams back at him.

That’s probably what this night was for, in hindsight. And why your mother was so nervous. She planned this to introduce her new boyfriend... no, her new fiancé to you, and to Jin’s family. Dimly, in the back of your mind, you register all the unusual signs about tonight. The way she’d messaged Jin to make sure you were at the dinner despite the fact that she’s never been able to bring herself to make you do anything you don’t want to.... the way she’s been commenting on your appearance despite it never having bothered her before... how long has she kept this from you? How... how could she be seeing another man?

No words form in your mouth- instead, the face of your father hovers in your mind. After thirteen years, you can’t fully recall what he looks like and you weren’t able to bring any pictures over to the human realm with you. It has been long enough that you cannot recall his face or his voice. So, in theory, why can’t your mother meet someone new? Did you expect her to live as a widow until she died, alone and far from the home realm she grew up in? Of course, you didn’t. But for some reason, this man’s presence right now leaves a bitter sting like she’s plunged a knife into your chest.

The smile drops from Nigel’s face after a few moments of you staring blankly and his smile is replaced with concern. It takes you a while to understand it is because you have crushed the hand of the measuring cup in your tight grip. It falls to the ground and shatters, followed by a few drops of blood as red rapidly spreads over your clenched fist and lands on the ground. You haven’t used your enhanced strength in so long you almost forgot you had it. 

“Fiancé?” You echo at last and though it is your own voice, it sounds distant. Like your ears are suddenly submerged under water. You don’t know what hurts you more in that moment- the painful reminder that the world is moving on without your father... or the fact that your mum has kept such a huge secret from you for who knows how long, probably because she was scared of how you’d react. “You’re engaged?”

“(Y/N),” your mother says, taking a step forward, perhaps to comfort you. She does it tentatively, like you are a beast she needs to placate. The people in your life- at least the ones who know your true identity- often approach you like that. Slowly and hesitantly, as if they don’t know how you will react. Like you are a ticking time bomb, ready to go off and cause trouble. Which in a way, you suppose you are. Things have always been difficult with you, after all. You never settled into human schooling well and you didn’t get into a good university like Jin, and you’re always getting yourself into trouble trying to help random people off the street. And your mother, your poor placating mother, is prepared to do the same thing she always does. Apologise that you had to leave your home, that the new human world isn’t to your liking, but gently remind you that it is, in fact, your real home now.  

But you do not give her the chance to feed you the same tired lines. You’re so sick of hearing this lecture. Every time you wind up in hospital because you’ve interfered with a fight or been hit by a car trying to save a random puppy, Jin gives you the same, frustrated lecture. When you fail another interview or get fired from a new job, your mother is there to try and fail to hide her disappointment that you aren’t leading the life she’d planned for you. But not this time- this is too far. You’ve been trying to squash the part of you that is a guardian for their sake for so long now, but you cannot do it for him. For this man, this stranger, who has waltzed into your home like he owns it and announced that he’s marrying your mother. As if he has a right to just join your family. You are out the door before she or Nigel can offer a word of explanation. 

You don’t see Jin until you crash into him. He steadies you with a hand planted on either shoulder. You glance up at his face, barely registering what he looks like through the blur of tears spilling forward. For a brief moment, the sight of Jin’s face (even blurred) and the familiar set of his broad shoulders fills you with relief. Even if Jin’s always viewed you as a bit of pain, he’s always been an important person to you, always ready to provide support. But then you see the look on his face.

Jin actually winces when he sees your expression. Perhaps he is realising it’s going to be one of those nights, where he sits up on the roof with you for hours and comforts you as you spill your guts. That’s how it’s always been, after all, ever since you were a small child and would run to him when you scraped your knee instead of your own parents. You would cry and he would offer some wise words mixed in with a stern reprimand and then his parents would congratulate him for being such a good influence on you. Even when you hit high school and started to realise for the first time that Jin didn’t view you with the same adoration you viewed him, he never stopped being that person for you. The shoulder to cry on, the rock to lean on. But now, he stiffens, as if steeling himself for the explanation behind your tears and he probably already has a speech half prepared in his mind. That’s the job he delegated himself, after all. To look after you, for as long as you are alive and giving him headaches. So, if it’s always been his job to do just that, why does he look like he’s just been asked to help clean a public bathroom at the sight of you in distress? 

He... he doesn’t want to deal with you. That’s why he looks so uncomfortable. 

You feel something inside you crumple. You can’t identify what feeling it is but, in that moment, you realise something. Everyone in your life... they all view you as a burden. Your mum had delayed telling you about her boyfriend until the last possible moment because your response would be difficult to handle. Jin’s parents see you as a hopeless child that their perfect son must look after. And Jin.... well you can see from the look on his face how he views you. It reminds you of a dark day, all those years ago in high school, a memory you thought you’d pushed down, and it surfaces now, before you can push it back down like you normally do. But then you set your shoulders- you were over the things Jin had said that day, and you aren’t going to allow the way that he looks right now to be the thing that resurfaces those feelings.

You shove past him. Over the past few months, you’ve been avoiding Jin more and more as your self-esteem plummeted lower and lower but today something tips over the edge for you. You don’t know how or why it happened but at some point, Jin has stopped being the person you can turn to when things get rough. And you have just realised that he no longer wants to be that person either, which hurts far more than you ever thought it could. 

“(Y/N)!” You hear him call out to you, probably shocked that you aren’t caving immediately and telling him what’s wrong- after all, there’s probably only been one time in your life before this that you’ve done so. You ignore his call though, making a beeline for the staircase, and he does not follow you. 

The place you usually go to when misery strikes is the rooftop of your crappy apartment building. You’ve spent countless hours up on the rooftop, watching the sky. It’s oddly therapeutic- the thing you used to miss most when first moving to this realm was the stars. Back home, they sparkle different colours like precious stones scattered across black velvet. Here, the smog of humans blocks their stars from the sky. But the brightest stars are somewhat visible on clear nights and they are the closest reminder you have of home. That’s probably why you have chosen the roof as your refuge. Since beginning to take refuge here when things go bad, you’ve accumulated a small collection of old furniture from whenever your mum goes on a redecorating spree. 

What has resulted is a comfy little corner of the world you can call your own, away from everyone else. No one else seems to use this place, even if the rooftop is accessible to everyone in the complex, but that suits you just fine. It’s perfect for curling up and wallowing, much like you are desperate to do right now. There are a lot of confusing, painful emotions swirling around inside you, ones that you aren’t really sure how to deal with or process. 

You slump down against the old picnic blanket you have stretched across the floor and let your head collapse against an old cushion your mum threw out years ago and peer up at the sky. Wincing, you idly pick out pieces of glass from your hand and watch the skin seal over almost immediately as you wonder if the sky really as beautiful back home as your memory tells you it was. Or, do you just want to believe things were better in the other realm? You’re not really sure but it really would be nice to go back. Not forever- as much as you hate to admit it, your family is here now, which makes this realm your home. But you want to see the place you came from. You want to see the stars and the valleys and the rivers. The night before you and your mother fled, your father had told you that everything about Magregnum would change by the time you were old enough to go back, except the landscape. Mountains cannot move, after all. A part of you longs desperately for that- to see the things that will not change and the landscapes that could not leave your father behind. The only reminders that you aren’t just a random human washed up in the bleakness of life, but a guardian. Something special and precious. Something better than what you feel like you are.

An annoying buzzing in your ear breaks the bubble of your pondering. You blink a few times and then sigh, turning your head to the side. A small figure, no taller that the height of your handspan, stands beside you with his arms folded. Small, insect like wings flap so rapidly they are little more than flashes, catching the light of the fairy lights you’d strung across the fencing of the rooftop a few weeks ago. The figure tilts his small head to the side and at this proximity you can see the way he frowns. He always has the oddest tendency to pop up whenever you are alone and miserable and likely he is displeased to find you in such a state yet again.

“Do you ever do anything other than sulk?” The creature asks. He is a pixie, as you know from your first interaction where he had very indignantly informed you that no, he is not a cross between a mosquito and a human in-between your attempts to squash him with a fly swatter. You grimace. 

“No.” You snap, rolling onto your side to face away. Alas, the small pixie merely lifts easily into the air and sails over your face like he’s an Olympian performing high jump. He lands neatly in front of you once more and grins. 

“What happened this time?” He asks, settling down into the picnic blanket cross legged. He plants an elbow on either knee and rests his chin in his hands. The buzzing of his wings slows to a gentle flap, which allows you to discern the thin, silvery veins that lace across the delicate membranes of his wings. You’ve always secretly thought it a shame that Jungkook is just a pixie, given his handsome face and charming nature, but being a human would mean the loss of his gorgeous wings. “Did Jin ground you again?”

“He’s never grounded me before.” You snap defensively. “And even if he did, it’s not like I would listen to him. He’s not my parent.”

Jungkook shrugs, leaning back to press his weight into his hands and stretching his legs out in front of him. 

“Yes, you would.” He points out. “You always complain about Jin, but I know you always do what he says.” 

You purse your lips and sit up. Jin is one of the last people you want to talk about right now. Jungkook stands up too, launching himself into the air so that he can settle on your knee. 

“So what did Jin do this time? Change the code to his apartment again? Find out about your motorbike? Treat you to dinner?” Jungkook questions eagerly. You’ve never seen the pixie interact with another living being other than you, Jin or Taehyung (and on occasion your mother) and he had sadly informed you that he was the only one of his kind in this realm when you first met thirteen years ago. So, you have a theory that he lives out his need for drama and gossip and social interaction vicariously through you. It’s the only way to explain his constant interest in your life and the things that are making you sad. 

“It wasn’t Jin.” You finally admit, lifting your gaze once more to the sky above. “Why are you even here anyway? Did you run out of YouTube dance covers to copy?”

Jungkook nods and settles down beside you. “It’s all pointless after a while.” He says forlornly. “It’s not like humans can see me. Only guardians will ever see me dance and they don’t care. I figured I might as well talk to one sentient being before I go crazy. The moths just aren’t great conversation partners these days.” He pauses. “So, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

Jungkook’s confession has your resolve crumbling. Sometimes it is easy to forget that you, Jin and Taehyung are the only people Jungkook can mix with, as a pixie in a human world. Even if humans could see him, the government would probably deport him back to the other realm the second it found out he was threatening exposure of magical beings to humans. A strange sadness on his behalf overcomes you and that is the thing that makes you willing to confess what’s bothering you. “It was... my mother.”

Jungkook is silent and when you glance down at where he is seated upon your knee, he is also gazing in wonder at the sky above. He doesn’t press further but you still somehow feel compelled to share. 

“She’s engaged.” You admit and the words feel oddly piercing amongst the soft hum of city traffic. They hang in the cool night air and suddenly the warmth of the night seems stifling rather than comfortable. 

“I thought the Q’uvar were happy when that sort of thing happened? Don’t you all have those huge festivities in your village whenever a marriage ceremony happens?” Jungkook questions. The natural way the original term for your people rolls off his tongue testifies to his origin- despite him living in the human realm, there is no doubt he comes from Magregnum, just as you do. Even when you were living in the other realm, your people would refer to themselves as guardians. Only the really old-fashioned members of your race would use the language that had slowly died out over the years as the common tongue became the norm. Not for the first time, you are curious about Jungkook and where he popped up from. Jungkook turns to look at you and tilts his tiny head. His inky black hair flops to one side with the motion. “Shouldn’t you be happy that your mother is engaged?”

The unintentional reprimand slaps you across the face and you wince. In theory, you should be thrilled that after so much difficulty and hardship settling into this realm, your mother has found a source of happiness. She has worked so hard on your behalf to make sure you grow up safe and secure in this foreign realm and so the least you can do to repay her is to be happy when she is happy. But the niggling fear that always chases you holds you back. It’s a fear of change- of the way life seems to move too fast for you to catch up. Here you are, stuck in the past when even your own mother has managed to move on and build a life for herself. 

“I should be.” You answer softly. You lift your knees and hug them close to your chest- Jungkook falls off with an indignant squawk. Moments later he rises in the air until he is eye level with you- even the buzz of his wings seems irritated. 

“Well then, why aren’t you?” He asks, but the tone of his voice implies that his patience has been lost with you. Since the moment of meeting you all those years ago, Jungkook had assigned himself as a sort of pseudo-counsellor and confidante, but it does not mean he enjoys the position. No, more often than not, he is annoyed and puzzled by your seemingly trivial problems. You kind of enjoy such an attitude though- it makes the things that feel insurmountable to you become small and insignificant. Jungkook makes you feel like problems can be overcome. This time, however, his dismissive attitude has you feeling worse. 

“Because I’m homesick.” You admit miserably. “Why does everyone seem to settle in here so well? Why am I the only one struggling? Why could everyone leave things behind so easily? How can they just pretend that they’re humans, and completely ignore the fact that they are Guardians?”

You press the palms of your hands against your eyes and release a long exhale. No one has followed you up here, after you rushed out like that. Who even knows what state your mother’s dinner is in? Hopefully she remembered to get everything out of the oven. Are they having fun without you? Is Nigel charming them, winning them over, getting them excited about the possibility of a wedding? Are they… are they really happy, in this realm? “Do you ever think about going back?” You question, after a long moment of silence. You drop your hands from your eyes.

“Sometimes.” Jungkook admits. “I wonder what it looks like now. Taehyung says it’s largely the same, it’s just the cultures and people that change.” 

You stare out across the ugly concrete buildings that the rooftop view provides you. In this realm, everything moves fast and changes quickly. In the blink of an eye, a new building can pop up down the road or an entire family can move away from their twenty-year-old restaurant and close it without any warning. Back home, you remember things being steady and unchanging. Every morning, you would rise to the same mountain ranges, to the same fringe of forest, to the same river song. The only guardian you know who has gone back is Taehyung, and he validates that impression- forests and mountains do not change. 

“I wish I had half Taehyung’s courage. I want to go back.” You confess.

Jungkook hugs his knees into his chest and mirrors your position beside you. 

“What would it achieve?” Jungkook asks curiously. You shrug, picking idly at a stray thread on your jeans. 

“Hopefully something.” You say. “I feel like I’ll never know what could happen if I don’t take the risk. I just… I feel like it’s calling me. It doesn’t want me to forget what I am. This realm doesn’t suit me because this isn’t my realm. Maybe I’ll find a place that fits over there.”

Jungkook nods sagely. A moth flaps past him and he smiles at it as it goes past.

“And what would you do once you’re there?” He questions. It does not take you long to give an answer. You’ve had this adventure mapped out in your mind since you were a miserable, homesick eleven-year-old.

“My dad used to have this phrase. “The river loves those who take the plunge.”. He’d always say it in the old tongue, and apparently it was an old guardian phrase that meant sometimes taking the risk was worth it. But apparently the phrase comes from a river to the east of our home. Dad said that the river is home to a special migrating plant, and it lights up and looks like shooting stars. They call it ‘the dancing river’. He promised to take me there, one day when the war was over.” You explain. “If rivers and mountains don’t change… then that’s that last piece of him I can find in that realm.”

“And that’s what you want to see, if you go back?” Jungkook asks. You nod and shift your position to the side of some old drawers you had rescued from your mother’s bedroom. Inside are a bunch of wrinkled old papers that you pull out and show him. 

“Taehyung always brings me back a map whenever he gets back from over there to show me how things have changed. Look.” You point at a small blue line that trickles across the painted landscape of the map. The label is written in the common tongue. “River of stars” it says in sleek cursive. You know from matching it up with an older map that the name has changed but it’s the same river your father told you about. “It’s only a five-day hike from the portal.” You point at a small mark on the map- this has Taehyung’s writing scribbled on it, marking the join between the human realm and the magical one. “I could go and just... get it out of my system. See the river. Like a road trip but in another realm.” 

Jungkook flutters over to peer at the small distance between the river in question and the portal on the map. 

“I just have to go once. Just once. And see it- see the places he loved. And then I’ll settle into this realm and get the boring job Jin and my mother want me to have and marry an equally boring human. I’ll go to her wedding and watch her pretend like my dad never existed and like I’m not a Guardian.” You tell him. “I... we didn’t even get to say good-bye, Jungkook.” 

Your voice cracks and Jungkook glances up at you in surprise. You rarely open up about your father to the pixie but he’s always curious when you do, like you’re sharing the story of an ancient war hero. Which in a way, he is. Though the war is fresh and recent in your mind, over a thousand years have passed back home, since your people roamed freely there.

“We just got word that he was dead, and we had to go, or we would be too.” You tell him, recalling the way Jin’s father had woken you two up in the middle of the night, pale as a ghost and drenched in your father’s blood. You remember running a lot that night and clinging to your mother’s hand. You had tripped and scraped your knee and you hadn’t been able to cry. And when you reached the human realm, your mother had shed a single tear and then shouldered on into your new life. No time or space to grieve. Not when there was so much uncertainty ahead. “No funeral or anything. I just... I want proof, that he was alive. I want to see the places he saw and just... I want to get a chance to say goodbye. I never even got to tell him that I love him one last time.”

Jungkook holds a hand to his chin as he ponders your words and then he looks at you. Though he is small, you can make out the dark colour of his eyes. His expression is soft and gentle. It reminds you of the look Jin used to give you when you’d come up here because the kids had made a mean comment about you not understanding their weird meme jokes or you were sad because you’d seen a kid hanging out with his father. Back before Jin had lost his patience with you, when he just got that the reason you couldn’t settle in was because of the cost it took to get to this realm safely. 

“You know it wouldn’t bring him back, right?” Jungkook asks softly. “Everything you knew about that realm faded thousands of years ago. You won’t find home there anymore than it is here. And it won’t stop your mother from getting married.”

“I know.” You answer forlornly. “But maybe things will be better if I just get to… acknowledge what I am. Even if it’s only for five days.” Jungkook stares for a long moment and then nods, his shoulders set with sudden determination. 

“Then let’s go.” He announces. You blink in surprise at his proposition. 

“Go?” You echo. He nods and straightens, planting on hand on his hip and pointing the other directly at you. 

“I am the first person to point out that you’re spoiled and selfish.” Jungkook reminds you, which has you wincing. “You don’t even know how lucky you are, to have so many people who love you. Do you know what I would give to be human? To have a friends and family like you do? And every day you spit on it. If this is what it takes for you to finally be content, then do it.” 

You frown and look away from him. 

“I don’t want to go when you put it like that.” You say, resenting the slight way your voice wobbles with hurt. You feel the slight tickle to your cheek and find Jungkook has pressed his tiny hand comfortingly to the side of your face. 

“Don’t be hurt.” He says softly. “I do know why you’re struggling.” He offers you as comfort. “And I do understand why it’s so hard. To live amongst humans every day and pretend like none of the terrible things that went down over there really happened. But in focusing on the things you’re missing, you’re missing out on the things you have.” He explains. “So, let’s go, (Y/N). Let’s go see the Dancing River and find the peace you’re looking for.”

You stare at Jungkook for a long time, before offering the slightest nod. He’s right. What’s the use of waiting and hoping and holding out for something? Why not just go and find out if seeing this river will solve any of your problems? The river loves those who take the plunge, after all.

“Let’s go, Jungkook.” You agree, with the faint hint of a smile on your face.

What you don’t see, as you converse with Jungkook, is Jin slowly closing the door to the rooftop, first aid kit in hand. He gives one last glance at the doorway, wondering if he should join you and Jungkook before shaking his head with a sigh. He turns around and makes the slow trek back downstairs with a troubled expression on his face.

[bubbyleh]

Good Things

angst w/ a happy ending cw for unethical science and trigger phrases word count: 8,569 (nice)

Dr. Coomer knows what he’s doing is very illegal and he could get in a lot of trouble. He does not work in Biological Research, and he has no clearance to be here, especially this late. But what else is he going to do, spend the night in his dorm room?

No way. Not since they agreed to go forward with the divorce. It’s stupid and dangerous, but hey, the worst thing he’s going to find is some half-disected cow or something.

And then he finds the tube.

He didn’t realize what it was at first, the back of it was metal and faced the door Coomer came in from. It was just a weird pillar in the middle of the room, he thought, until he found himself in front of it and realized. Suspended in a green liquid, lit by fluorescent lights inside and sleeping, there was a person. He’s wearing a medical gown, and there’s an oxygen mask and other monitoring equipment strapped to him.

“My goodness,” Coomer says without meaning to.

The person in the tube cracks an eye open, clearly having heard him and woken up. He glares at him before moving his hands in a manner that Coomer recognizes as sign language.

Too bad Coomer’s very rusty. Crap, he thinks he still has his old books somewhere. He waves and shrugs with an apologetic smile.

The tube person rolls his eyes, before exaggeratedly pointing at Coomer. Then, by making a hook with his left hand and a fist with his right, he makes the shape of a question mark.

Clearly this man can hear him, so Coomer clears his throat. “Well, I’m Dr. Harold Coomer,” he introduces himself. “I work in Waste Disposal. Who are you, then?”

The question catches the stranger off-guard. He looks around as if confused by who Coomer could be addressing, his dark hair swishing after him. When he turns back, he points to the base of the tube, where Coomer notices for the first time the placard at the bottom.

BU-33Y

“Huh,” Coomer remarks, squinting at the name slightly. “So you’re Bubby, then?”

He facepalms, but the name sticks.

☆*☆

[B is the department. U is the project designation.]

Coomer nods along as Bubby explains his name. He’d been surprised when Coomer returned a week after their first encounter, doubly so when he could actually understand the signs he used. Bubby still seemed apprehensive to speak with Coomer, but he didn’t tell him to leave.

[33 is my number, Y refers to the batch I come from.]

Bubby had told him a lot about himself, or rather, the project he originates from. The Ultimate Lifeform, Black Mesa’s attempt to make a perfect scientist. Incredibly intelligent, superhuman abilities, and government property. Eventually his testing is going to involve him working among other scientists, a prospect Coomer is thrilled by.

“Batch?” Coomer questions. He feels somewhat awkward, sitting in front of the tube. Bubby doesn’t seem to mind, though.

[Same genetic code,] Bubby winces at the thought. [My brothers, I guess. I’m the youngest.]

“Well, where are the other thirty-two, then?” Coomer asks. “And all the other batches?”

Bubby looks past Coomer, deeper into Biological Research. [Gone. Some of them are around, kind of.] For the first time, Coomer notices fear on his companion’s face. [They were out too long. They died, or fell apart.] He kicks, legs swishing through the green tube goo.

“But you’re not going to, right?” Coomer has to know. He’s just met Bubby, so maybe his attachment is a little much, but this person is so smart, so witty, so intelligent! To think he could just… stop being, one day.

[No,] Bubby’s got a confident smirk on his face, but his hands are shaking. [They’re working to fix it. I’m gonna be out of here for good someday.]

☆*☆

Their meetings continue for months. Coomer doesn't bring up his impending divorce with Bubby, mostly because he doesn't want to think about it. It isn’t a crime to want to hold onto the one person who doesn't look at him with pity these days! Besides, Bubby always redirects conversation away from his own feelings, why the hell would he listen to Coomer’s?

Well, part of that assumption is challenged when Coomer finds Bubby in his tube, fidgeting with his fingers with a distant look in his eyes. He doesn’t even notice Coomer at first.

“Good evening, Bubby!” Coomer grins, putting on his best friendly face. Bubby startles, going rigid almost like a goat. “Is something troubling you?”

Bubby shakes his head almost immediately, but seems to pause upon making eye contact with Coomer. He looks away as he signs, [Actually, you might be able to help me with this.]

“Ah, what do you need?” Coomer takes a seat in front of the tube, as he often does when he comes to see Bubby. He waits patiently while Bubby struggles to find his words.

[Do you remember what you told me last week?] Bubby starts, but after Coomer gives him a lost look, he adds, [About being a man.]

Oh, Coomer remembered! He’d been showing off the enhancements he’d received from the Cybernetics department, because while Bubby was familiar with their work, seeing it firsthand was a whole other thing entirely. Bubby was trying to downplay the fact that he was marvelling his Extendo-Arms™ when Coomer mentioned that they had done a few of his transition surgeries as well.

The look of pure confusion on Bubby’s face would be something Coomer always cherished. He gave him a brief explanation on gender identity, sadly not touching on the more intricate details due to time restraints. But Bubby had gotten the gist of it! And now he was asking to know more? It was a scenario Coomer could only dream of.

“Of course I remember!” Coomer exclaims. “Would you like me to elaborate on some of the points I made? I know I had to leave before we could get into my own lived experience, but I hope the general descriptions were adequate!”

[I’ve been thinking about it,] Bubby is obviously uncomfortable. [I’m not a man. Or a woman.]

Well that’s certainly not what Coomer was expecting, but that’s not a bad thing! Finally, a friend who also isn’t cis! He shakes his fists up and down in excitement, before rushing forward to scoop Bubby up in a big hug.

Sadly, there is still a glass wall between them. Coomer slams his face right into it.

Coomer hears Bubby laugh for the first time. Even though it’s muffled by the oxygen mask and tube, not to mention sounding more like a witch’s cackle than something joyful, it’s still the most beautiful thing Coomer has ever heard.

☆*☆

For a few days, Coomer misses his meetings with Bubby. Although they weren't operating on any real schedule before, Coomer had made sure his visits were occurring most nights. But after the divorce was finalized, well… he needed some time by himself.

Bubby’s rapping their knuckles against the glass the second they see Coomer, clearly trying to get his attention. There are less wires connected to them than before, the vast collection reduced to only their oxygen mask.

“Hello Bubby!” Coomer greets apologetically. “I’m sorry for my absence recently, I had a bit of an issue…”

But Bubby clearly isn’t listening. They’re enthusiastic to the point of stimming, excitedly pointing at the large button on the other side of the room.

Coomer walks over to the button and inspects it. It’s been here all this time, yes, but he’s never really thought much about what it does. “You want me to press this?” he clarifies.

Bubby nods, hands flapping so fast there’s no way they could stop to sign. They have that evil look in their eye again, the one that reminds Coomer how vibrant they are and makes his heart skip a beat. He presses the button without hesitation.

Immediately, the liquid in the tube begins to drain, and Coomer worries for a moment that this is going to kill Bubby. But the way they’re lightly kicking against the tube wall, anxious and thrilled beyond measure, tells Coomer that this is exactly what they wanted.

Finally, the tube water is gone, and the glass drops. Bubby takes one step forward, then slips in some of the liquid left at the bottom.

“FUCK!” they yell. It’s the first word Coomer ever hears them say.

“Oh dear, Bubby!” Coomer’s at their side in an instant, helping them sit back up. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Bubby shoos away Coomer’s helpful hands. Their voice is almost exactly what Coomer expected, pointed and snarky. They shoot a glare at him. “Where the hell have you been? I got the all clear that I’m not going to fall apart yesterday.”

Coomer winces, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. Bubby doesn’t even know he was married, let alone in the middle of a bitter divorce up until recently.

“I, um,” he stammers. “I had something happen?”

Bubby rolls their eyes. “No shit.” They take Coomer’s hand. “Can you grab my glasses for me? You’re about to watch me burn shit.”

Coomer tries to ignore the burning feeling in his face and chest when he looks at their hands, instead focusing on the burning feeling that comes from standing way too close to Bubby’s fire.

☆*☆

Things change very quickly after that. Bubby gets their neural implants put in—which they’re rightfully pissy about—but they’re moving forward. After all, limiting the government secrets you can tell is a sign that you’ll soon be around people who don’t know them. Besides, Coomer already knows anything they would have told him without the barrier, so they’ll always have him around!

Just mentioning that halts Bubby’s thrashing against the metal walls and medical equipment. Their hands still, their expression softens, and they tilt their head slightly, as if in wonder of the man in front of them.

Coomer feels seen in a way he never has before.

☆*☆

They wait a few days after Bubby’s “release into the wild” (as Coomer calls it) before visiting with each other again. Give Bubby a few days at work and the plausible deniability that he met Coomer during that time. But now that time is up, and Coomer’s excited to hear how Chemical Engineering has been treating his friend!

His friend. Coomer has long since accepted he has a bit of a crush on Bubby, which is kind of embarrassing to admit as he’s rapidly approaching forty years old. When you constantly catch yourself thinking about running your hand through your friend’s hair, though, or wondering what it would be like to kiss him with all those sharp teeth… it’s obvious at that point.

In stark contrast from before, Bubby visits Coomer’s dorm room. He insists that his own is nowhere near ready to receive guests in, and he’d much rather see what a lived-in space should look like. Coomer doesn’t mention he only got downgraded to this singles’ dorm a month ago.

The second he steps in, while Coomer tries to avoid thinking about how good he looks in actual clothes, Bubby starts complaining.

“What the fuck!? Why do you have a better dorm than me?!” Bubby gestures around him. “You’ve got, like, three different rooms here!”

“I’ve been working for Black Mesa for almost twenty years, Bubby!” Coomer explains. “I have a bit of seniority over you.”

Bubby rolls his eyes. “Big deal, I’ve practically been working here for thirty-eight years! That’s more than you!” He crosses his arms and grumbles about favoritism.

Coomer puts all his energy into ignoring how adorable Bubby looks when he’s grumpy.

☆*☆

“Harold! What do you mean you’re divorced!?”

They’re sitting on the couch in Coomer’s dorm, Bubby clutching one of his throw pillows. It hurt to bring up, but Coomer figures that Bubby would have found out eventually. He really didn’t want them to hear about it from a colleague of theirs that was an acquaintance at best.

“Well, I am!” Coomer attempts to keep a tone of cheerfulness in his voice. “The proceedings started just before I met you, and everything’s been finalized for a few months now.”

Bubby stands, and Coomer’s afraid for a moment that they're about to start lecturing him on trust.

They point a finger at him. “You’re telling me you have an ex we could have been bashing this whole time?!”

☆*☆

Though it takes a while, Bubby finally relents and allows Coomer to come over to their dorm, and while it’s much smaller, he loves it more than his own. It’s cozy! The two of them have to sit on the bed to watch TV, since there isn’t enough room for a couch.

Which is exactly what they’re doing. Coomer has a lot of media he plans on catching Bubby up on, prioritizing his own favorites! But they are currently watching an action movie, which he knows they’ll both enjoy. Acts of heroism and explosions? It’s like the industry was made entirely for the two of them!

They’re sitting very close, Bubby practically leaning against him. Not that Coomer’s complaining, they’re practically a heater. And given how far underground they are, he’s taking any source of warmth he can get. The physical contact is also making him very flustered, and thus, more body heat!

A huge explosion rocks the screen, and Coomer laughs. “See, Bubby! I told you there would be something in here for you!”

“Huh?” Bubby mumbles and sits up. They’re clearly rubbing their eyes.

“Bubby, have you been asleep?” Coomer asks, already knowing the answer.

They blink, the fog clearly leaving their brain. “Oh,” Bubby says, as if realizing that’s what happened. “Yeah, so what? It’s my room.”

“You have company!”

Bubby squints at Coomer, before removing their glasses. “I don’t see any company.”

“Bubby! You can still hear me!”

“The world is just blurry shapes now! For all I know, I’m alone!”

Oh, well if someone’s going to be childish, then Coomer can play their game. Using Bubby’s reduced eyesight to his advantage, Coomer snatches their glasses from their hand. They gasp dramatically.

“Harold! How dare you!” Bubby attempts to swipe their glasses back, but it’s a little hard to do that when their hand-eye coordination is shot. Coomer holds the glasses above their heads, teasingly.

“What’s wrong, professor? Can’t find your glasses?” he grins, waggling the sight aids ever so mockingly.

Coomer was not expecting Bubby to tackle him to the bed. “It’s doctor, shut up!” they growl, reaching for his outstretched hand. “Give them back!”

He does his best to shove Bubby back, but since he’s not putting too much effort in, it’s no use. Finally, Bubby’s hand manages to find purchase on the glasses’ bridge. They yank their glasses back, shouting a triumphant “Aha!” as they do so.

Bubby returns their glasses to their rightful place, smirking with their shark-like teeth showing. “You thought you could-”

Coomer suddenly realizes how close their faces are to each other. And that Bubby’s practically got him pinned against the bed. His hand lingers on their stomach, halted in its effort to push Bubby away.

Bubby seems to as well, as they suddenly stop talking, their cheeks turning a bright red that Coomer’s sure matches his own. After the longest moment of stillness, they abruptly fall back, almost fearful.

“Fuck!” Bubby curls in on themself, gripping their temples with their hands. “That was- it was nothing!”

Coomer sits up, tentatively reaching a hand out. “Bubby…”

They slap his hand away. “Stop it, Harold!” Bubby’s tone is harsh, but Coomer can hear their voice cracking. “Just stop, okay?! It was nothing!” They’re practically about to pull their hair out of their head.

“Bubby!” Coomer grabs onto their wrists, bringing them between the two of them. He looks Bubby in the eye. “Calm down. Breathe with me, alright?”

Clearly biting down whatever they were going to say, Bubby nods as if it’s the only thing they can do. Slowly, Coomer sees the tension fall from their shoulders, their arms going slack. After a few rounds of breathing, Bubby gently draws their hands back, and Coomer lets them.

“Now, what’s the matter with you?” Coomer moves to sit beside Bubby. “And don’t you dare say it’s nothing, again.”

Bubby drops their head onto their knees. “I know you’re in love with me, Coomer. You’re like a puppy, it’s not hard to read you.”

Coomer sighs. This is a rejection, then? As a divorced man, Coomer should be used to this, but… he isn’t. Not from Bubby.

Bubby looks back up at him. “And I know what you want in a relationship, and it’s not me.”

Huh?

“Not you?” The concept is so absurd that Coomer’s sure he must not have heard them correctly.

“Actual person things!” Bubby gestures to the ceiling as they speak. “Like going to the surface, or living together, or going to nice restaurants!” They frown. “I can’t give you that.”

A beat passes while Coomer figures out how to respond to that.

“You know you’re wrong, right?”

Now it’s Bubby’s turn to look confused. “What?”

“While those things are nice, I don’t need any of them in a romantic relationship.” He takes Bubby’s hand. “I just need someone who’s nice to spend time with and is willing to put the effort in.”

Bubby’s face turns bright red again. “Oh,” they say, squeezing Coomer’s hand. “Well, I can do that.”

“Can you?” Coomer’s mostly joking, still riding the high of mutual romantic feelings, but Bubby takes it seriously.

“Of course I can!” They throw their arms around his shoulders, a stupid grin now spread across their face from cheek to cheek. “Just you wait, Harold, I’m going to romance the socks off of you!”

For the second time today, their faces are inches apart.

Bubby doesn’t back away this time. “I can kiss you, right?”

“Oh most definitely,” Coomer responds.

It turns out, kissing Bubby is everything Coomer had hoped it would be and more. Their lips are warm, and the feeling of them smiling into the kiss as they grip the back of his shirt, pulling him closer, is one he’ll never forget.

☆*☆

There are certain things you don’t notice about a person until you spend a night with them. After sharing a bed with Bubby a few times, Coomer comes to several realizations.

The first is that Bubby sleeps like a log. Seriously, Coomer would have expected them to be at least a little bit twitchy. But the second Bubby’s out, they aren’t moving again until the morning.

Which is difficult in combination with the second item: Bubby is a clinger. It’s cute to see someone who’s usually so standoffish be completely affectionate at night, but not so much when Coomer feels pins and needles in his arm and he’s physically incapable of moving it out from between the two of them without waking his partner.

And waking them up is a bad idea because of the third realization, which is that Bubby is not a morning person in the slightest. Coomer already had a sense of this from their first meeting, but Bubby absolutely HATES waking up for the day. They practically need to be lured to the lab with a trail of coffee mugs every morning.

But their annoying sleeping habits aside, Coomer thinks it’s worth it. After all, he gets to hold Bubby for a whole night! Listening to them breathing, running his hand through their hair (they’re starting to go gray), he has never felt more at peace.

☆*☆

Coomer finds Bubby waiting for him outside his dorm room, standing there with his arms crossed and tapping his foot rapidly. His scowl immediately melts into a smile the second he spots him.

“Well, hello there Bubby!” Coomer waves. “What are you doing here so early? I thought our departments let out at the same time.”

“Harold, you will not believe the day I’ve had.” Bubby places a hand on Coomer’s back, serving as both affection and a way to rush him through unlocking the door. “Some idiot almost blew up the entire lab!”

Coomer turns the key and opens the door. “Well that’s not good! What happened?”

Bubby brushes past him, plopping himself on the couch with great flourish. “The man was clearly ignoring proper lab safety! The whole experiment burst into flames while his back was turned!” He seems strangely satisfied as he speaks, a look Coomer would know anywhere. “We got the rest of the day off because of his arrogance.”

Taking a seat next to him, Coomer narrows his eyes at Bubby. “Darling, you didn’t.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Bubby raises his hands in the air, feigning innocence long enough that Coomer almost begins to feel bad. Then he gets that wicked grin on his face again. “I did, though. I spent the afternoon eating chips in my dorm, and it was a million times better than working for this hell facility.”

“Bubby! You were supposed to bring those chips here with you!” Coomer chides him, but in reality, he doesn’t care that much. He’s proud his wonderful partner fucked over the system just a bit.

Bubby stares at him blankly for a moment. “Oh yeah! I forgot about that.” He shrugs. “They were good, though.”

“I’m sure they were,” Coomer sighs, but his obvious smile shows no ill-will behind it.

☆*☆

Over the years, the folks over at Biological Research get a bit more lenient with Bubby. They’re finally able to see some of Black Mesa's surface facilities, which are mostly just a few upper-level labs. The only condition is that Bubby is not allowed to leave the property.

That’s fine for both of them, though. There’s a lot to do on the surface if you’ve never been there before, and they end up sitting in the sunshine together, talking about things they definitely would have talked about below-ground as well. Bubby seems to enjoy the sun on their skin, acting a lot like a lizard basking in a bright light.

“I see you’re having fun,” Coomer chuckles.

Bubby is laying flat on their back, and even though Coomer knows they’ll yell at him for letting them lay down in the dirt, right now he can’t bring himself to stop them.

“It’s so warm out, Harold!” Bubby exclaims, wearing the happiest grin ever. “You know I love the warm!”

When the sky begins to darken and the temperature cools, Bubby sits back up and scooches over to join Coomer against one of the rock outcroppings that litter Black Mesa. They stretch their arm out, subtly wrapping it around Coomer’s shoulders and leaning their head against his.

“You know I love you, Harold,” they whisper. Coomer has never seen them look so peaceful before.

Coomer beams, taking hold of Bubby’s free hand and kissing his partner at the same time. “Of course,” he replies. “And I love you.”

They’re quiet for a few minutes, watching the last of the sun’s rays dip below the horizon. Bubby’s gaze turns to the stars above them. Being out in the middle of nowhere, Black Mesa has very little light pollution. No matter how bright the stars may look, though, Coomer thinks there’s no way they can be brighter than Bubby’s eyes right now.

“They can’t program stuff like this into a person,” Bubby remarks, eyes still glued to the sky. “I’ve known about stars and love my whole life, but…” They falter, their expression becoming grim for the briefest of seconds. Then, they look back at Coomer. “Experiencing it is something different.”

Coomer doesn’t need to respond, not vocally. He pulls Bubby into the biggest bear hug he can muster.

“Ack! Coomer!” Bubby grunts. “Not all of us are ninety-percent metal!”

“Forty-seven point five!” Coomer corrects them, but he releases Bubby with an apologetic head pat. “I’m sorry, though. I just love you too much! I want to hug you all the time!”

Bubby’s face goes red immediately. Even after all these years together, Coomer can still make them blush as though it were their first date all over again.

“Yeah! W-well!” they stammer. “Good! You should want to do that!”

Choking back his laughter, Coomer pulls Bubby in for another, more gentle hug.

☆*☆

They’re curled up on his couch late one night, watching an old movie when Coomer decides to bring up the elephant in the room.

Coomer stops running his hand through Bubby’s hair. “Your hairline is receding. You know that, right?”

Bubby immediately sits up from where he was resting on Coomer’s chest. “Shut the fuck-”

“I was just saying!”

“I do not want to hear it!”

“Bubby, dear, you’re completely gray already. My hairline is also receding!”

“Yeah, well.” Bubby crosses his arms, turning away from Coomer. “You’re a year older than me, so that makes sense.”

Coomer shakes his head. “Well, I suppose there’s only one way to settle this.”

Bubby gasps. “You wouldn’t!” He scrambles to the other side of the couch. “Stay away from me, you bastard!”

“A fight to the death!”

And with that, Coomer lunges.

☆*☆

All good things must come to an end. It’s a concept Coomer is intimately familiar with.

☆*☆

The morning begins in Coomer’s kitchenette, Bubby hunched over the table drinking their coffee out of a mug that says “Total Stud” on it. A gift from three years ago. As they rub the sleep from their eyes, Coomer bounces around preparing breakfast for the both of them.

“You’re heading back down to Biological Research again today, aren’t you?” Coomer asks over his shoulder as he fries a few eggs.

Out of the corner of his eye, Coomer spots Bubby signing, [Yes.] Must be a rough morning, then.

“Medical checkup?” Coomer asks, slipping their eggs onto two plates and serving one to his partner. But Bubby ignores him. They pointedly hold the mug with both hands, taking a long and drawn-out sip.

Coomer bites his cheek as he sits across from Bubby. “You know, they’re dragging me into another meeting down there today.”

[Clone thing?] Bubby absentmindedly picks at their eggs. Scrambled, just how they like them.

“I believe so,” Coomer sighs. “You’re sure it’s different from you?”

Bubby nods. [It’s just you in two bodies. Wasn’t like that for me.]

While it’s a relief that there aren’t going to be any more children brought up in Black Mesa like Bubby was, Coomer’s still not entirely sure he likes the implications of the alternative. A hivemind of himself just wandering around the facility? Is that something he wants?

“But, anyway.” Coomer got sidetracked. “I was thinking we could head down there toge-”

That wakes Bubby up more than coffee ever could. “No!” they shout, rising from their chair in an instant. The second they register their panic, though, it’s gone. “It’s… we shouldn’t go together. I’ll probably leave after we eat.”

Maybe it’s the way they look into his eyes, like a caged animal, but something about what Bubby says next sticks with him for the rest of the day.

“They aren’t good people, Harold.”

☆*☆

Coomer catches sight of Bubby as he’s rushed into one of the offices, through a window into a test chamber. They’re back in a medical gown again (that hurts to see), shoulders slumped as a scientist speaks to them. Their eyes meet for the briefest of seconds, Bubby offering him a small smile, which Coomer returns.

Then the scientist snaps at Bubby, who immediately goes rigid and turns away from Coomer.

☆*☆

“To put it simply, Dr. Coomer, the sequencing of your DNA is ideal for mass-producing clones.”

The man in front of him—Dr. Daniels, as the nameplate on his desk reads—smirks as he speaks, and it isn’t at all close to the endearing ones Bubby has. It’s cold, calculating, and makes Coomer want to squirm. When you’re the head of Biological Research, you get to be intimidating.

In the back of his head, Coomer hears Bubby’s warning. ‘They aren’t good people, Harold.’

“How did you get my DNA in the first place?” Coomer inquires, because he knows for a fact he hasn’t given them any.

Dr. Daniels just laughs at him, more mocking than assuring. “Cybernetics had a few samples on record, in the event of complications during surgery,” he says. “It wasn’t hard to get ahold of them.”

Coomer frowns. Damn, he didn’t think those were still around. ‘They aren’t good people, Harold.’

“You see, I’m worried about the shared consciousness,” Coomer looks for an out. There’s a strange noise in the hallway, but it’s easy enough to ignore. “They’d just be mindless extensions of myself?”

“That’s a simplification, but yes,” Dr. Daniels begins rifling through his desk drawers. “I apologize, I swear I had a paper here that would explain it better.” His brow furrows, but he’s interrupted when

CRASH!!

Another noise from the hallway, this time even louder than before. And people are shouting. It startles the both of them.

Dr. Daniels grumbles, “What the hell is happening out there?”

The office door flies off its hinges in a fiery burst of energy, and a figure steps in. And figure is the right word, because it’s difficult to make out any features beyond pure black and literally engulfed in flame.

Oh fuck.

That’s Bubby, isn’t it?

They look between the two people in the office, finally settling on Dr. Daniels. They point towards him as they speak.

“You.” Their voice is full of malice, more than Coomer’s ever heard from them before. They take a shambling step forward, leaving a trail of fires and scorch marks behind them as they walk. “Get away from him.”

But Dr. Daniels makes no move. “Now, now, Subject 33, there’s no need for this.”

Bubby is careful to avoid Coomer in his approach, made easier by the fact that Coomer has retreated to the side of the office. He can’t really escape without jumping through fire, and, well…

He can’t leave Bubby.

“I’m not going to let you hurt him,” Bubby hisses, climbing onto the desk and raising a hand to strike. “Not like you hurt me.”

Dr. Daniels isn’t afraid. He only shoots a disappointed glance Coomer’s way. “I see.”

He turns his attention back to Bubby. “Thirty-three drop.”

They’re just words, but they have an obvious effect on Bubby. Their flames extinguish immediately, leaving them smoking slightly. Their limbs go slack, and they fall backwards off the desk.

For a moment, Coomer is convinced Daniels killed them.

“What a shame,” Daniels walks around the desk, grabbing onto the back of Bubby’s medical gown. “You were doing such good work in Chemical Engineering. We’ll have to move you, now.”

As Daniels drags Bubby behind him, Coomer meets their eyes again. Despite the limpness in their body, Bubby is wide awake and begging, pleading for help.

But Coomer is frozen still.

Daniels unceremoniously drops Bubby in the hallway, calling out to the survivors of Bubby’s rampage to put them back in the tube for now. He closes the door after that and looks at Coomer.

“Now, as for you…”

‘They aren’t good people, Harold.’

☆*☆

All good things must come to an end.

But, thinking back on it, Bubby wasn’t just a good thing. No, the term “good thing” is not enough to describe the impact they left on Harold Coomer’s life. He knows it isn’t, not with the way he wakes up cold every morning, reaching for a warmth that isn’t there. Coomer finds himself boxing up leftovers more often than not, making enough food for two out of habit. He cries whenever he finds something in his dorm that Bubby left behind, like their mug or a sweater.

All good things must come to an end, but Bubby was more than that. Bubby was always more than people wanted them to be, everyone except Coomer. And when you spend so long living with so much, the absence is terrifyingly empty.

Bubby was an inferno. Bubby was the stars in their eyes. Bubby was passion, and intellect, and bravery, and cowardice, all in one.

Bubby was loved.

☆*☆

It goes like this.

Coomer is transferred to Biological Research, where they can keep an eye on him. He is not given a choice. He will participate in the cloning experiments, and he’ll live with it.

Bubby’s been transferred somewhere else. Their dorm has been moved. Coomer is not to speak with them again, under any circumstance.

Life continues, but it doesn’t move on.

☆*☆

Several times a day, Coomer catches himself thinking about Bubby.

‘What are they doing right now?’

‘Where are they?’

‘I miss them.’

‘Bubby would love this.’

‘Bubby would hate this.’

‘I should tell Bubby about this!’

It always hurts.

☆*☆

Coomer has to figure out grounding methods on his own. Everytime a new clone pops out, a piece of Coomer disappears for good. He loses items more often, because his thoughts strayed to a clone’s at just the wrong second. He still remembers things, but it’s getting harder and harder everyday. Some days his head is cloudy, and he can’t quite figure out what it is he’s supposed to do at work.

If Bubby were here, they would make fun of him. Yeah, they were kind of a jerk, weren’t they? A loving, wonderful jerk. But they wouldn’t have complained, there’s no doubt in Coomer’s mind.

Some days, when he wakes up, Coomer doesn’t remember that Bubby’s not by his side anymore.

☆*☆

Things don’t get better, but over the course of fifteen years, they do get easier.

Coomer starts making friends again, a young man by the name of Gordon Freeman. Coomer can tell he’s stressed out being so young in such a competitive field (especially working in Anomalous Materials, the things he’s heard about that department…), so maybe he takes a bit of a mentorship role to him.

It’s nice. They’ve known each other for a year at this point, and, well, he’s kind of like the son Coomer never had.

Gordon mentions that there’s a big test coming up, apparently his team is pulling other Anomalous Materials teams in just to make sure everything runs smoothly. And though it’s complicated, his job is rather simple. Push a crystal into a laser!

What could go wrong?

☆*☆

Of course Coomer shows up the day of the test to support Gordon! He hasn’t got anything better to do today, so he might as well see what all the fuss is over at Anomalous Materials.

It’s easy enough to bullshit his way past their front desk, having a million clones of yourself running around means there’s a million spots for you to fill should you need to. He briefly greets Gordon in the locker room, wishing him luck as he hurries on his way.

But, finally, he finds his way to the control room. The perfect place to watch from!

There are two scientists inside, both of whom are tall and lanky. One’s pretty young, Coomer thinks he must be around his mid-thirties. And the other-

“I swear to you, Tommy, this man says-”

He stops the second he spots the intruder, face slightly twitching in a way Coomer knows means he's resisting wincing. He’s lost more of his hair since Coomer last saw him, and though it’s been fifteen years, he’s aged pretty well, all things considered.

“Bubby?” The name comes tumbling out of Coomer’s mouth before he can stop himself. There's no way…

That does something to the scientist, dropping his stern expression for something softer. “Harold? Is that really-”

They’re interrupted by a clattering noise in the test chamber, all three of them turning to see Gordon has entered, accompanied by a security guard.

“Fuck,” Bubby swears. “What the hell is he doing?”

The other scientist, Tommy, preoccupies himself with yelling back and forth with the security guard.

“Tommy, do you know this man?” Bubby snaps (Coomer doesn’t remember him being this standoffish), appearing annoyed when he receives no answer.

“You know, he didn’t bring his passport!” Coomer jokes, trying to lighten the mood but…

Bubby is pointedly looking away from him, his attention focused on the computer terminal in front of him. He keeps mumbling about how fucked the technology in this part of the facility is, and honestly, Coomer agrees. Why they’re having Anomalous Materials run such high-risk tests in such a poor state, he has no idea. It’s like they’re asking for something terrible to happen.

And something does.

Things get worse as the test continues. The Anti-Mass Spectrometer begins to smoke, the computers in the control room are clearly on the fritz, and Bubby is still ignoring Coomer. But everything goes wrong after the crystal sample is placed in the laser.

They attempt to shut the Anti-Mass Spectrometer down, but it doesn’t work. Electricity arches throughout the room, striking the walls and loosening panels. All at once, an explosion rocks the test chamber, sending the three scientists ducking to the floor.

While Coomer doesn’t understand whatever the hell just happened, Bubby and Tommy certainly do. The second the test chamber stills, they rush out of the control room, heading two separate directions.

Some little part of Coomer’s heart that remained intact shatters.

☆*☆

Between all the zombies and aliens wandering around and the sheer destruction that’s been wrought on the facility, it’s quite obvious that Black Mesa has become defunct. As their team of five travels through the depths of their workplace, Coomer revels in the fact that he finally has an opportunity to get rid of these clones. With each of their deaths, it’s like a part of himself comes back.

Bubby catches on. Coomer occasionally spots him taking out a clone from the corner of his eyes.

That first night, after they all stop to rest, Coomer is surprised that Bubby chooses to sit next to him. After a full day of nothing from Bubby, Coomer had thought he was losing him all over again.

“This is the end of Black Mesa, isn’t it?” Bubby asks. Despite their proximity, he still won’t face Coomer.

Coomer looks out at the sleeping forms of their companions. Gordon is still stuck in his Hazard Suit, which probably makes sleeping even more uncomfortable. Tommy, meanwhile, has taken off his lab coat and bunched it up into a pillow.

“I believe so, Bubby,” Coomer admits.

Bubby sighs, but it’s not disappointment. It’s relief. Coomer is shocked to feel him take his hand into his own.

“It’s good to see you again, Harold,” he finally confesses. “You won’t believe how much I missed you.”

Coomer chuckles. “I have some idea.” Every nerve in his hand is buzzing, and if he was too old for this when he and Bubby first started dating, then he’s definitely too old now.

“So what are we doing, then?” Bubby’s being vague on purpose.

“Well, we should probably…” Coomer’s thoughts drift back to their final encounter, “talk. About everything. And then, I suppose, if you’ll have me…” He looks to Bubby, hope in his eyes.

Bubby scoffs, trying to keep his voice down. He leans his head against Coomer. “Seriously? You want to pick up where we left off fifteen years later?”

“I don’t see why we couldn’t!” Coomer says. “Who’s around to stop us now?”

Instead of arguing, Bubby lets his head drop down to Coomer’s shoulder. “You have a point,” he whispers after stifling a yawn. “We’ll talk in the morning?”

“We do need our rest,” Coomer concedes, resting his head atop Bubby. “Goodnight, then.”

Bubby falls asleep fast, like he always did. As for Coomer, despite the two of them laying against a concrete wall, it’s the best sleep he’s gotten in years.

☆*☆

While Bubby sticks to Coomer’s side like glue, it’s clear they’re avoiding being alone with him. They’ll slyly take ahold of his hand as the two of them walk side-by-side, but the second the team rounds a corner ahead of them, they’re dragging Coomer forward while shouting “We’re going to be left behind!”

They still haven’t talked about that last day.

But Coomer finds himself unable to complain too much. Having Bubby with him again, smiling and laughing, holding them… it’s everything he ever wanted.

☆*☆

When they finally make it back to the surface, Gordon has a great idea.

“Why don’t we just climb?” He gestures to the rocks in front of them. “Why don’t we just go over the rocks and fucking get out of here? We’re at the surface…”

Bubby tries to deter him, reminding Gordon that they’re in the middle of nowhere, but Coomer gets an idea.

“I could always try to clear the mountaintops with my SuperLegs,” he suggests, and when he doesn’t hear no, he goes for it.

He’s up there for but a few seconds, but what he sees beyond the walls of Black Mesa shakes him to his core.

There’s nothing there.

☆*☆

After the rocket launch, Coomer catches Bubby staring out the window instead of sleeping. Their eyes are trained on the night sky, watching the stars twinkle with a determination Coomer’s never seen before.

“Bubby,” Coomer calls out to them, shocking them from whatever trance they’re in. “You should really sleep.”

To be honest, it’s more for his sake than theirs. He just needs to feel Bubby by his side, tonight more so than any.

“Right,” Bubby moves back to Coomer’s side, nestling their face into his shoulder. “When you- I didn’t realize you were telling the truth, earlier.”

Coomer sighs. “You saw it too?”

They nod, mumbling, “There’s really nothing out there, is there?”

What do you do when facing down the limits of your own reality? What is there to do but seek comfort in that which makes you feel human?

☆*☆

Bubby's been whispering with Benrey. Occasionally the two of them will fall behind or run ahead of the group, mumbling to each other as they glance around nervously. While it is suspicious, Coomer knows Bubby! He hasn't heard anything terrible from him!

But still, he is acting rather strange.

"Bubby, dearest?" Coomer asks. Bubby is apparently back in one of his clingy moods, as he wrapped his arms around Coomer the second everyone decided to take a break and refused to let go.

Something about the word "dearest" irks Bubby. His eye twitches, which is definitely not the effect it had on him fifteen years ago.

"What?" Bubby's obviously fighting against a harsh tone, a contrast to the fact he's currently holding onto Coomer for dear life.

"I wanted to make sure you were doing alright, after yesterday," Coomer continues. "You’ve been on edge today."

Bubby grimaces. "Maybe it's the alien invasion we're fighting off."

"You know that's a flimsy excuse."

"What does it matter?" Bubby huffs. "What does any of this matter?"

In all his years of comforting Bubby, of offering words of encouragement in the face of dire circumstances, Coomer has never fallen short of words like he has now. How can he provide him with answers that he himself is reaching for?

Bubby notices his hesitance and sighs, tired. His eyes are stern and hollow. Without another word he stands, joining the rest of the group and leaving Coomer behind.

☆*☆

Coomer is too trusting. How many times over the years has Bubby called him a fool? Lambasted his desire to look for the good? 'The world isn't as kind as you imagine it, Harold, get your head out of the clouds.'

Bubby and Benrey betray Gordon. Walking towards that dreaded room, Coomer notices that same hollow expression on Bubby's face, his words betraying him.

A second before the lights go out on Gordon, Coomer sees the most twisted grin worm its way onto Bubby's face. A grin he can hear wiped away when Gordon screams in pain, knife tearing through flesh.

The whole time, Coomer is frozen in place. His PowerLegs feel more like stone than advanced cybernetic enhancements. His friend is being hurt, right in front of him! And he can’t…

He can’t..

Do anything.

It's fifteen years ago, all over again.

The second the thought crosses his mind, Coomer makes an excuse to run, hoping at least someone will follow him. He can't let this happen again, he can't be trapped by his own inaction! Gordon might be beyond saving, but they aren't!

Nobody pursues. Coomer finds himself wandering the halls of Black Mesa. Alone.

☆*☆

Stupid.

Useless.

Cowardly.

Selfish.

Spineless.

Coomer realizes it's no wonder he lost Bubby. He didn’t deserve them.

☆*☆

The clones end up being good for something after all.

When you have three hundred subhuman extensions of yourself, it turns out you have what could be described as a one-man army.

☆*☆

Coomer has a plan. Screw everything else, he's fucked up beyond measure in here. He is getting out of this game, one way or another.

He's got all the clones he could find, one surging attack should do the trick. After all, the man is suffering from a recent amputation, he shouldn't be that hard to take down. Well, Coomer didn't anticipate Tommy, but that's not too big of a wrench. He's knocked down, he stands, ready to fight again, but...

But he sees Gordon. So weak, so bloody, so delirious. And yet still walking.

The anger recedes. Coomer stands down, offering peace instead. Despite everything, he can’t bring himself to hate Gordon.

☆*☆

They find Bubby locked up in their tube, and with the way they enter the room, Coomer doesn't even realize they're in there at first.

Coomer is angry, he's furious at Bubby for their betrayal. They sold Gordon, their friend, out to the military! Of all people!

But seeing Bubby back in their tube, pounding on the glass, begging to be let out, for Gordon to understand they were tricked and lied to.

It isn't right.

If Coomer can get a second chance after the stunt he pulled, then Bubby can as well.

☆*☆

They stop for the night in a small room that they climbed into through the roof. As the group talks, Coomer sits next to Bubby, even lays near them when it's time to go to sleep. But he can tell, from the way their eyes keep glancing towards the bloody stump where Gordon's hand used to be, that their mind is elsewhere.

Bubby doesn't reach out for him at night, and after the day they've all had, Coomer isn't sure he should make the first move. Still, even subconsciously, they lay back-to-back as they sleep.

Until Coomer's back suddenly feels cold.

He sits up, noticing Bubby has woken up and is trying to worm their way back onto the roof. Their eyes meet for a moment, both of them silent before Bubby climbs up.

Coomer decides to follow.

The sight Coomer finds is not unfamiliar to him. Bubby sits on the roof, their knees drawn to their chest, gazing up at the starry sky above them. Their eyes are not full of their usual wonder. When Coomer sits down next to them, they finally speak.

"I fucked up," Bubby confesses, eyes still glued to the sky.

Coomer already knew that, but... "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I-" Bubby starts, but they swallow and try again. "When I saw the void, I thought that meant that nothing here mattered." Coomer wraps an arm around Bubby, and they lean into him. "That my whole life, what happened to us, it was all fake and meaningless."

"But we're real," Coomer says, not a lecture, but an affirmation. "We love, we feel pain, we have fun. To an extent, we're alive."

"That we are," Bubby agrees. They pause for a beat, before revealing, "I hated you."

Coomer remains quiet, mostly out of confusion.

Bubby pulls back to face him. "Biological Research knew the whole time that you were seeing me. They thought you were a good influence, so they didn't step in." They grip the sleeve of Coomer's lab coat. "But that day, they mentioned it to me, and I… I just snapped."

Vaguely, Coomer remembers Dr. Daniels saying he had "expended his usefulness" sometime before the cloning began.

"I wanted to protect you, Harold. You were the first good thing in my life, I couldn't let them hurt you," Bubby whimpers. "But when I needed your help, you didn't… you…"

Harold Coomer froze.

Something clicks in the back of his mind. When the soldiers attacked Gordon, Bubby knew that Coomer wouldn't act.

Bubby yanks Coomer back to their chest, holding him as close as possible. "I blamed you, and I hated that I blamed you, and I loved you. Harold, those first years without you were awful."

Coomer can hear Bubby crying, and he knows he's doing the same.

"I'm sorry," Coomer sobs into their shirt, hugging Bubby just as tightly as they hug him. "My darling Bubby, I am so, so sorry."

"Don't say that," Bubby repeats it like a mantra every time Coomer apologizes. "Harold, don't you dare say that."

☆*☆

They make it to the end. They're loomed over by the twisted monstrosity that is Benrey. They destroy their passports, and pour everything they can into knocking this bastard down once and for all.

Bubby erupts in flames, his body once again becoming a vague silhouette. Unlike the last time he saw this sight, Coomer feels no dread. There is no pit in his stomach.

This is elation.

☆*☆

They share their first kiss in years in a Chuck E. Cheese, of all places. After watching the two of them dance around each other for five days, Gordon finally feels comfortable enough to ask them what the hell their relationship status is.

Coomer opens his mouth to answer, but Bubby has a better idea. He tilts Coomer's face towards his own, leans in, and kisses him right on the lips.

It's like nothing has changed in fifteen years. When they kiss, it's like they're young all over again.

☆*☆

They survive after the game. Bubby questions it aloud one day, but Coomer doesn't want to think about it. Whatever has happened that allows their continued existence, it's nothing short of a miracle.

Bubby and Coomer end up crashing in Gordon's house for a few days, considering they don't quite have a place of their own yet. On day three, Gordon's son Joshua calls both of them his grandpas, and Coomer cries for an hour.

They move out eventually, when their government mandated hush money comes in. Not far, but Bubby clearly wants some independence. It's a nice little place, cozy but not too small.

Bubby never starts the conversations about marriage, but they're always an active participant. When Coomer had first brought up the idea, Bubby had to put their magazine down, their eyes blown wide.

"Holy shit!" they exclaim, realization hitting them like a train. "We can do that now!"

After fifteen years of absence, waking up with Bubby by his side, curling their fingers through his hair, is magical. The life they never thought they'd have—a house on the surface, with a family all their own—is reality. Coomer has never been happier.

All good things must come to an end. But Bubby has always been better than good.

[pink-peony-princess]

Deliverance| S.M Werewolf AU

Part One🐺

The woods had always been a place of comfort for me. A place to escape the madness of my life- of serenity. of course I'd heard the stories of vicious wolves who roamed the darkness waiting to prey on the innocent,but I always put it down to stories, gossip, folklore designed to stop kids from venturing too far. That was until the day I was taken.

A rogue pack had taken me as their personal toy, all the anger and frustration they felt was taken out on me. It was a good day if I got a bit of stale bread, and only one beating. On bad days there would be no food and constant, torturous abuse.

I had endured it for 13 year, my small body the reflection of years of malnutrition and hurt, but I'd finally escaped.

I had bid my time, waiting till they made an inevitable error, and it had finally happend. One of the younger wolves had forgotten to check the padlock when they'd had their fun with me and I'd seized the opportunity and run as fast as I could. but I wasn't fast enough. The alarm had been sounded and there were now several wolves hot on my heels and I could run no further I had to accept my fate. He was less than a metre away from me when our of nowhere another wolf - russet in colour intercepted him in mid air, knocking him over with the force of an elephant. I could hear the snarling and snapping of jaws as I finally collapsed and

surrendered, the last thing I remember was a tall young man walking towards me .

When I woke it was to a mass of activity.

I drifted in and out of sleep, hearing people talking.feeling hands on me, there was even something about the alpha wanting to see 'her', and a 'mate' and something else about ' killing the pack that did this'. What that meant I couldn't know in my delirium.

When I managed to finally open my eyes and get past the blindly bright light above me, I was met with the image of a man-pacing back land forth, muttering to himself. And the more immediate threat of someone fiddling with the sheet that lay over me.

Surely with a man this good looking, this close to me it had to be a dream, I tried to convince myself, but someone shattered the dream almost as soon as is materialised.

"Well hello sweetheart, I'm glad to see you're finally awake," the voice came from that of and older woman with long greying hair braided out of her face "My name's Judy, I'm your nurse," she smiled down at me. "Are you in any pain?" She asked.

I took a moment to take everything in, but I was still unable to make sense of it all.

"Where am I?" I asked, trying to sit up, but everything protested as soon as I moved, even muscles I didn't know I had.

"Just stay still for now dear, you don't want to hurt yourself further," the nurse-Judy spoke kindly, helping me to resettle myself.

Something, maybe me speaking seemed to wake the man from his trance like state and he turned to meet my confused gaze.

He was tall, he had to be at least 6 foot, with sliflghtly tanned skin, the most rich brown eyes I'd ever seen, and hair that was neatly cut, except for a few unruly curls at the front of his head which didn't want to co-operate with the hair gel he'd obviously used to style it.

"Oh,oh thank God." the man rushed over to the side of the bed stopping mere inches from my face.

I could feel my heart rate picking up as panic set in, not used to people (let alone males) being this close without hurting me.

I turned to Judy asking desperately with my eyes for help

She must have got the memo because she cleared her throat and spoke.

She seemed somewhat hesitant though "Alpha, I don't mean to overstep my boundaries, I know you must be worried sick as we all are, however would it not be prudent to give the girl some space?"

The man searched my face for a moment, before straightening and stepping backwards.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he muttered guiltily.

"You didn't," I lied before I could think about it.

"My name's Shawn what's yours?" he asked holding his hand out for me to take.

I kept my mouth shut, years of torture telling me to keep quiet. He dropped his extended up so it was back at his side.

"Alrighty then, when you're ready. I won't push you." He spoke, it seemed as though he was trying deliberately to keep his tone, soft, conversational and I appreciated it.

At that moment the doctor walked in. "It's good to see you awake Miss," he spoke echoing Judy's words.

"I'm sorry to say you're quite banged up." Shawn started pacing again at his words.

"

I would have sworn I heard a growl.

"Shawn you have to stay calm," Judy spoke, it sounded almost as if she was trying to comfort him, confusing me further.

Once the doctor left Shawn calmed down, having dragging a chair from outside my room to sit beside my bed.

"I heard something about killing another pack?" I asked weighing my words cafefully. "So are you all wolves too?"

"Yes, honey, but I promise you're safe here," he replied softly, looking over at me. I looked down again, not able to take the human interaction.

"Everytime I look at you, you look down. Why is that?"he asked, sounding sad.

" I didn't mean to upset you," I panicked.Starting to pick at the I.V in my arm, it was something I always did when I was nervous, picking things, my skin, nails whatever seemed to help.

"No, no, I didn't mean it like that, I'm not mad," he cut me off. "I just mean I've noticed it is all," he lay a hand carefully on my arm and surprisingly the contact helped.

"I don't know," I pondered, distracted by his touch. There was a weird, warm feeling flowing from the point of contact straight up to my chest, not dissimilar to when your hands or feet go numb and then start to respond again. It wasn't unpleasant, just strange. "I guess, I'm not used to positive human contact," I admitted, looking up to see him shaking his head.

"Are you the Alpha?" I asked suddenly. He looked at me, surprise washing over his face at the boldness of my question.

"Yes, I am," he spoke proudly. "Of the Shadowmoon Pack, greatest pack in all of Canada if you ask me," he smiled.

I liked the way he was so confident. It made me feel safe and secure. A few more hours past with us sitting in a comfortable silence, I couldn't help but feel safe around him, and as foreign as the feeling was, I also craved it.

"Are you ready to go home now Poppet?" Judy ssekd, making her way into my room again sometime later and starting to mess around with the I.V tubing.

I looked at her panicked.

"Home?" I squeeked. Surely they weren't really going to send me home. It wasn't a home where I'd come from it was a hell, my own personal hell and I'd be damned if I was going back.

Shawn seemed to noticed my emotions and stepped forward, slowly holding his arms out, and instead of backing away as I had done earlier,I surprised us both and stepped into his hold.

He was warm and comfortable, our bodies seemed to fit perfectly,denim of his jacket just scratchy enough and the now semi familiar tingling from our contact pleasant enough to ground me somewhat. I stayed like that for a minute or so before I became a little more aware of what I was doing. I was hugging a near stranger,worse he was a male, worse again Ii was actually lettung myself like it.

Sorry, I blushed, stepoing away quicky and looking down.

"You don't need to apologise," he smiled.

"What was the tingling I felt" I asked wanting to change the subject.

"That is what you get when two mates make contact" He smiled wider than I had ever seen a person smile, his fangs being exposed in the process.

I stood, silently, shocked.

"Are you okay" He asked moving to step towards me, I held a hand up and he halted midstride.

"I promise you. We'll take things slowly, right now I just want to get you home- to our home," he amended when he saw the look of panic in my face. "So you can rest."

I nodded. Still not entirely comfortable, but what other choice did I have? Go back to the pack that had tortured me all these years, or even end up homeless on the street? And from everything I'd seen Shawn seemed like a genuinely nice person, who everyone respected. Plus,if he was telling the truth, which from heat I could tell, he was, he was my mate and from all the stories I'd heard as a child, your mate was meant to be the one person in the world who would do anything for you, be anywhere for you. They would literally protect you with their lives.

"Shawn I don't have anything to wear," I whispered embarrassed again, looking down at the gown which barely covered anything as Judy finally finished what she was doing in the corner of he room having taken out my I.V. and left.

"I brought you some clothes, don't worry," he smiled.Pullnig out the most comfortable pale pink sweater I'd ever seen, he handed it to me and I was hit with his scent.

"This is yours?"

",Is that okay?" he worried. " I could go home and get something from one of the girls if you're uncomfortable," he offered.

I just smiled,letting out a little giggle at the extreme level of concern he was showing, which caused him to immediately relax l, shoulders dropping, a slight smile gracing his lips as he shook his head softly.

"Can you turn around please?" I requested. He did as asked giving the privacy I so desperately craved.

When I was finished he took my hand, holding his other under my elbow to support my weight.

He was so patient, never rushing me as he lead me through the hospital and out the doors into the world. I couldn't help but savour the fresh air,the cold winter air burning my lungs but in a good way.

"I bet it feels nice to be outside again,"

I nodded, "How did you find me" I asked, as we continued to walk. It was as if now that I was free my mind could finally ask questions and process all the stuff I had never done previously.

"That's a story for when you've had some more rest," he answered, coming to a stop in front of a Jeep, opening the door and lifting me in. The tingling was still a shock,l everytime he touched my skin.

"Feel free to sleep we've got a bit of a drive ahead of us" he smiled reassuringly, before turning the ignition,the car coming to life.

I woke to someone shaking me,it was dark now and I immediately jumped back in my seat, unsure, before my groggy eyes made contact with Shawn's and I realised where I was and relaxed.

"I won't hurt you, you're safe now Pup," he murmured, moving to brush some hair out of my face with a feather-light touch. I blushed at the nickname."I was just waking you because we're here, this is home" I took in the house illuminated by lights in complete awe.

"So you're an Alpha and you don't hurt humans?" I asked as he helped me cafefully from he car.

"You're not human, you're an omega, but no I have nothing against humans," he added, holding me steady as I swayed on my feet slightly, not used to standing anymore.

I stood stunned again," I know it's a lot to take in, but we'll get to all of that, for now though, you need rest.

We made our way through the house in silence, I could hear other voices, yet we never came across anyone.

"This is my room," he spoke, shifting his grip on me slightly to open the door.

The room was large with huge french doors leading out to a balcony overlooking a big yard and a lake, soft- what looked like silk curtains framing the windows, a guitar sat in one corner a futon in the other. There was a record player in the corner, playing a soft melody which filled the space, creating a warm inviting feeling. In the centre of the room was the biggest bed I had ever seen.

It had several large cushions on it and a duvet cover that looked like it would feel like laying on clouds. Just this bed was bigger than he cell I'd been forced to spend so many years in,I thought with a shudder.

"This is your room?I stumbled over my words.

"Well I'm hoping it will be our room actually." Shawn spoke, scratching at his neck.

I turned panicked. "But only when you're comfortable I'm not about to force you into anything I promise."

He held his pinkie finger out, and I just looked at it unsure of what he wanted.

"Here," he smiled, taking my hand and locking my own little finger with his. "This is called a pinkie promise. It's like a pact that you don't break," he explained with a smile.

"Oh,I guess, I must have forgotten." I felt extremely stupid and shit up quickly, the only sound that of the record player still in the corner. I found it so comforting, my own father had had one when I was little and I could remember watching the record and needle spin for hours.

"There's a room adjacent to mine which I've had the maids freshen up, there's a comfortable bed and an ensuite with fresh towels and a toothbrush." he continued as if there wasn't just a massive awkward silence emitting solely from my lack of understanding.

He turned leading me back out and across the hallway to another door. When he opened it, I saw a room, smaller than his, but still warm and cosy, with a big bed, a window, lots of pretty lights and yet more records, this time hung in the wall.

"You didn't need to do this for me," I told him, as I took it all in.

"I wanted you to be comfortable," he shrugged.

He lead me back to his room where he sat down on the bed, kicking his shoes off and patting the spot next to him.

"How long was I out" I asked after a minute. He got what I meant immediately.

"Three days," he answered somberly.

"How are you feeling? he asked.

"Still very sore," I admitted.

"Here let me see your injuries." he reached over picking up a box of what I soon realised was full of first aid stuff.

He was extremely gentle as he tended to he cuts and scrapes that covered my shoulders, arms,and legs. He even managed to convince me to let him check my ribs. This I found uncomfortsbly and awkward once again, but he was careful not to make it any worse than it had to be and he had rewrapped them quicky and easily.

"How do you know how to do all this?" I asked quietly as he gently dabbed at a cut on my hand. "We'll I'm actually a trained doctor. When I'm not working as the Alpha, I work at the pack hospital. There all done," he announced,packing up the box and disposing of he rubbish in a small medical waste tin.

Half an hour later and I'd gotten changed, again into one of Shawn's oversized hoodies and made myself comfortable in his bed after he insisted I stay in his room incase I needed him.

"Sleep well, Pup, I'll be here if you need me."

He went to lounge on the futon, and I was left to drift to sleep, exhausted by the day's events. My sleep was fitful to satly the least, dreams bad nightmares melding to form weird and wonderful scenarios which would never make sense.

When I woke, it was to a soft knock on the door. Opening my eyes, I could see that it was still slightly light out, though dinner than it had been, probably somewhere around dusk. A girl with dark hair, dark eyes and a kind smile stepped tenntively into the room.

"My name's Karla. Im in the pack. It's nice to meet you," she added warmly. "Shawn's had to go deal with some pack matters so he asked me to come keep you company. I brought you some food. He said you might be hungry." She held out what looked like a croisant, the smell of butter instantly filling the room."I also brought a hair brush," she added. "I thought you might like to brush your hair, I know that always makes me feel better. Or I could do it?" she added again, shyly.

"Thank you."I whispered, my voice still hoarse.

The girl, Karla, came to sit on the bed. She had to be the same age as me. Maybe a year or two older.

"I hope the pack meeting doesn't go too long," she said as I started picking at my croisant. "Shawn won't want to be away from you, it's hard to be away from our mates." She looked dreamy as she spoke, leaving no question that she too had a mate.

"I'm nervous to meet everyone," I admitted with a frown, suddenly not hungry anymore.

"Aww, don't worry everyone will love you," she smiled. "We've all been waiting for ages for him to meet his mate and you're finally here." she clapped in excitement, breaking E and forcing me to smile just as Shawn came through the door with another soft knock.

"Ahhh, I see you've meet Karla," he smiled, raising his eyebrow a little bit. " I hope she's been telling you good things."

"Yep, what were you doing" I asked watching as he took his deniem jacket off- the same one from earlier and chucked it onto the futon, coming to sit next to me on the bed, careful not to invade my personal space.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked watching as I pulled the crosiant to pieces no longer interested by the food, now that I had him here.

"I'm alright," I shrugged.

He nodded, and we lapsed into yet another comfortable quiet.

It was only then that I realised Karla had left the room, she must have excused herself, seeing that she was no longer needed and didn't feel the need to encroach.The hairbrush however was still laying on the bed.

"I just want you to know," he spoke, breaking the silence after a while, "that no matter what happeneds you'll be safe here. I'll protect you with my life, it's my job both as your Alpha and as your mate," he spoke earnestly.

He was looking at me with such an intensity as he spoke that something broke inside of me, and I cracked. "Lucy," I whispered looking down and away from his gaze.

"What?" I could here the confusion in his voice.

"Lucy, my name, my name is Lucy." I spoke more clearly this time, though I still couldn't bring myself to look at him.

"Lucy, that's a pretty name," he murmured. I could see from the corner of my eye that he was reaching for me, and as much as I wanted to move, my body was frozen whether in fear or anticipation I couldn't know, but the next thing I knew both his hands were cupping my face. He was so gentle, almost as if he thought I would break. I looked up at him, once again taken aback by the intensity of his stare.

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks.

"You're so pretty when you blush," he smiled, caressing my cheek.

"Please don't compliment me, I don't deserve it, I'm ugly," I repeated the words my captors had drilled into me for so many years.

"You, Lucy," he put emphasis on my name. "are anything but ugly. You are the most beautiful person I have ever known, inside and out."

"How can you say that?" I replied.

"Because, I can feel it Lucy, right here," he took my hand in his and placed it over his chest where I could feel his heart beat strong and sure. "I've been waiting for you my entire life. And now that I have you, it's my job, my honour to protect you with my life," he explained fiercly.

"Thank you," I chocked out, tears welling in my eyes.Leaning into his frame just slightly despite myself and my fears.

"No pup, thank you."

[emmy-writes-sometimes]

Living Room Graduation

You’re due to graduate from college, but due to COVID, it was cancelled. Chris, your neighbor, and his brother try to give you a graduation anyway.

-

           You were gutted, to say the least, about your graduation being cancelled. Actually, your entire final semester was cancelled, your parents were stuck with your grandparents in Maine, and you had a huge old house to yourself and you couldn’t even have anyone quarantine with you. So you were at your worst, skipping Google Hangouts classes to re-watch the same TV shows you’d seen four times to binge all of the Lord of the Rings movies (you don’t even like them really, they’re just on Netflix), to sleep for fourteen hours a day, and only leave the house for curbside pickup or your weekly Starbucks run. You were completely and utterly done with life at that point.

           It was around seven when you realized the trash collector was supposed to come in half an hour, so you sprung out of bed, threw on some shorts, and tried to make it. You probably looked like a mess, and it only slightly comforted you when you saw your neighbor, Chris, walking his own trash out in a sweatshirt and sweatpants. He was a sweet guy. He was an actor, he was in some of your favorite movies, and he had the sweetest dog who would sometimes come to your front yard and roll around. His brother, Scott, had been quarantining with him. At least they weren’t alone.

           “You forgot too?” Chris asked across the driveway. You were probably six or seven feet apart.

           “Yeah, my parents usually do this,” you responded. “But they’re stuck in Maine, so I’m here.”

           “Oh, no! Hey, aren’t you supposed to be finishing college? Boston U, right? Is it pre something?”

           “Pre-law,” you responded. You put the trash can down and crossed your arms in the cold, still talking to him. “I’m deferring law school for a year to try and get an internship and pay some of my loans off. I guess you’re not working right now, either?”

           “Nope. I got a series coming out on Apple, but nothing’s filming right now, so Scott and I are just kind of sitting ducks,” he answered. “I gotta go take the dog out for a walk, but you should come over at some point as long as you don’t have coronavirus. We’re good company. And we’d be glad to have you.” You smiled.

           “Thank you,” you said with a smile on your face. “Yeah, it’s freezing, I’m going back inside to put some pants on.” He laughed as you turned and walked across the driveway, bare-footed, until you reached your front door and slipped inside.

           From that March evening, you were a regular at the Evans house. You came over for breakfast, lunch, even dinner sometimes. You and Scott would sit on the couch, Dodger between you, and watch TV for most of the day until you had to tune into class, when you’d run home. As it started warming up, you started using their pool. You missed your family, but Chris and Scott were quickly becoming some of your favorite people. Chris even networked you with one of his lawyers who was helping him with a political website he was coming out with, earning you a remote internship for the summer.

           May came and your spirits were low, despite the fact that you had Chris and Scott all but living with you. You hated the fact that you couldn’t even protest for your classes to be graded so your GPA remained at a 3.89 and wouldn’t round up. You hated that your parents still weren’t home because they were taking care of your grandparents still. You hated being in that big farmhouse, all alone, even though your friends were next door. You hated the fact that you couldn’t do any school traditions or even remotely celebrate your graduation. But you tried to keep yourself occupied, like watching all of the Marvel movies with Scott just to annoy the shit out of Chris.

           “Oh, come on! I don’t look that bad!” Chris defended as you were watching the first Captain America. He was making lunch for the three of you (because you and Scott only wanted to postmates in and Chris insisted on making food), so he was in the kitchen just behind where you and Scott were laughing and commenting.

           “Dude, no one looks good in polyester stars and stripes! Just admit it!” You said to him. He groaned and jokingly shoved you into the couch. “I’m sorry. You just make it so easy to make fun of you.”

           “I could say the same. You weren’t fooling anyone when you put that sweater on while you were tanning outside.” That was right – you had put a sweater on over your bikini the day before when you were at their pool, trying to cover up the fact that you were attending class and tanning at the same time.

           “Oh, that’s different!” You said, walking into the kitchen just to punch him in the side. You’d seen how he worked out and that was definitely the most vulnerable part of him.

           “Hey!”

           “Guys, no roughhousing!” Scott called, not even bothering to look behind you. Your phone chimed, signaling that you had class in ten minutes, and you sighed.

           “Go on and use the office,” Chris said to you, “and I’ll have lunch after.”

           “Thank you,” you replied, grabbing your laptop and running up the stairs to Chris’s office area. He always kept it the cleanest room in the house, but it was filled with pictures of him and his co-stars, pictures of him and his family. Your favorite was a framed picture of Dodger right in front of his computer.

           You logged into class and the Google Hangouts noise started playing loudly. Chris looked up at the ceiling before walking over to Scott, knowing that you were getting ready for class and wouldn’t be back down. He sat down next to his brother and pet the dog who was always at his side.

           “Okay, since her graduation got cancelled, I wanna do something,” Chris said to Scott. “She deserves it. And her parents aren’t even here to see her graduate.”

           “Well, what do you want to do?” Chris sighed, taking his phone from his pocket, and looked up your college’s website. Then he saw the COVID information page, which had plans for graduation on it.

           “It looks like they’re doing a virtual graduation with all of their names and pictures and everything. So maybe we could screen it here, give her a nice brunch and some alcohol, make her feel not so anti-climactic,” he suggested, handing Scott the phone. The graduation was going to be on YouTube, so it was easy to pull up on the TV. And they could lure you over under the guise of something else and surprise you with it.

           “Alright, then, how do you wanna do this? We have to make some excuse to keep her out until that time.”

           “Just… You go with her on a Starbucks run or something after class today. Find a way to make sure it’s the one across town. That’ll give me enough of a chance to make some food and put some stuff up and go over to her house and steal her cap and gown.”

           “Christopher, you are a mastermind,” Scott said. “Remind me never to piss you off while we’re in quarantine. You have time, money, and motive.” Chris chuckled and went back to making lunch, bringing the meat out to the grill while you were still in class.

           Over the next few days, you didn’t suspect anything. You went along with everything, as usual, and Chris was even alone with you as you walked Dodger. He managed to keep it a secret, even though he wanted to burst and tell you that you shouldn’t be sad on your graduation. The week leading up to it, he forced you to use the office space almost every day. He gave you food and coffee, he made you take breaks for your sanity, and he made you get nine hours of sleep every night. Finally, the day before graduation, you burst into the door.

           “Guys!” You said loudly, holding a printed piece of paper. “I contested to get my classes graded instead of pass fail and they did it! I have a 3.9 now!”

           “That’s amazing!” Chris said, walking over to give you a hug.

           “What? That’s awesome!” Scott got up off the couch and hugged you too. Even Dodger looked excited.

           “So now I can actually say I have a 3.9.”

           “Let me see it!” Chris took the paper from your hands, looking at all of your grades. Despite all of the meltdowns and classes you skipped, you managed an A in every single one of them. “I’m so proud of you!” He said, hugging you again.

           “I’m going to go call my parents,” you said.

           “Oh, by the way,” Chris said, grabbing you before you could make it out the door. “Come over tomorrow at 8:30. No questions asked, alright? And wear something cute?” You gave him a look before turning around and leaving.

           “Dude, you basically spoiled it!” Scott said, elbowing his brother.

           “What happened to no roughhousing?” Chris asked. He ran away before Scott could do anything. He had some work to do, if only for you.

           The next morning you showed up at their door at exactly 8:30, carrying a six pack and hoping that whatever they had planned would allow you to get drunk. You’d finally passed out after watching Baccalaureate and the awards ceremonies all by yourself. Your best friend was the valedictorian, too, and you called her to cry about it. But you were up bright and earlier than usual when Scott opened the door and shuffled you in. Red and white was everywhere – they’d pulled out some Christmas decorations that were red garlands, Chris had literally put glitter confetti all over a table, and there was a cookie cake on the table with your name on it.

           You teared up as soon as you saw the cookie cake. You could smell breakfast, too. He’d made you an entire meal, bigger than the usual kind. Both of the boys were wearing red, too, and you beamed. They’d planned you an entire graduation party in their living room because you couldn’t go to yours.

           “What?” You asked. They both just laughed and embraced you in an Evans sandwich.

           “I stole your cap and gown too,” Chris said, “you should really lock your doors when you’re over here for class.” You laughed.

           “Thank you, so much, guys.”

           “It’s the least we can do. We’re proud of you. Come on and get some food and alcohol and we can cry through the ceremony together.” You laughed again and started making the rounds in the kitchen, grabbing a little bit of everything except for some extra bacon, and you let Chris pour you a massive glass full of alcohol for yourself. He brought out your gap and gown and your cords and stoles and made you put them on. The ceremony started at 9, so you weren’t too pressed for time. But you sat down between the two of them, Dodger right on top of you, and watched as your name eventually came on screen. Both boys cheered and nudged you, clinking all of your glasses together.

           “I’m so proud of you,” Chris said, “really.” You leaned into his shoulder and then Scott’s, just grateful that you had them.

           “I’m really glad we took the trash out at the same time,” you said with a sniffle.

           “Oh, don’t cry! Come on, we have alcohol!” Scott said. That just made you laugh.

           “Come on, kid,” Chris said as he messed up your hair. “Let’s get some cake.”

A/N: I’m sorry this is so short but I hope you like it! Congrats to anyone in the Class of 2020!

[justbecausewhynot]

Azriel: Fluff Alphabet

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Azriel loves his chest. As weird as that sounds, he loves when you lay your head on it and how you always listen to his heartbeat. 

He loves your face. The expressions you make when you’re sleeping, kissing your cheeks and forehead, he loves it all. He especially loves it when you stare at him and when he stares at you. 

 B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

Azriel eventually wants kids, but at the moment, just wants you to himself for a bit. Because of his childhood, he wants to prove that he can do better than what he was put through and make sure he is ready when it does happen. The thought of being that responsible for someone secretly scares him. He just wants to be the best dad possible and give his children the best life he can. On the other hand, the thought of you as a mother is perfect and he knows that you will make an amazing mom. Inside, Azriel is still worried that you wouldn’t want to have that sort of commitment to him, but eventually accepts that you feel the same that he does about you.

 C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

Azriel loves to be the big spoon and wrap you within his enormous wings. The two of you are so drastically different in size, when he holds you, your entire body is covered. Though he would never admit it to anyone, he also loves it when you just lay your head on his chest and hold him. 

 D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

Azriel always tries to do the most for dates in a personal sense. Something simple but at the same time very romantic. Aside from the frequent dinners on the roof or trips to different restaurants in velaris, Azriel plans different adventures and events for just the two of you. Whether it be picnics in the park under a willow tree with a full course meal and wine, or star gazing on the top of a mountain laying on a blanket, he always comes up with something new and elaborate. 

 E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

You are the flame to my shadows

 F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

Azriel instantly felt a deep connection with you the first time he saw you. Being the shy boi he is, whenever he would see you, he would feel amazing but tried to keep his cool and stay level headed. While talking or spending time with him, his feelings towards you became more and more strong, but he was unsure if you felt the same. The first time you kissed and the mating bond snapped into place, he knew he loved you.

 G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

Azriel is the most gentle it is possible to be. He always puts you first and makes sure you are always comfortable, happy and well. By constantly checking in and simple shows of affection throughout the day, he shows his soft side. 

 H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

Azriel likes to hold your hand in his or on his lap whenever you are sitting or lounging. When you are walking, he stands close to you but doesn't hold your hand as much. Instead he sometimes holds you by the waist and spreads his wings a little farther so that they will cover your body. 

 I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

The first time he saw you, Azriel thought you were the most beautiful person, inside and out. He saw that you were kind hearted as well as a picture of poise and elegance. 

 J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Azriel gets jealous when anyone looks at you, he knows you would never do anything to hurt him, but he still stiffens at the thought of anyone else wanting you. He also gets frustrated when Cassian flirts with you. You will often play back and pretend to be madly in love with the illyrian until it gets too much for Azriel and he takes you away playfully while you  laugh with Cassian. 

 K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

Azriel likes to take long and soft kisses, often exploring your face and neck in the process.He also loves small cheek, forehead and nose kisses, either giving or receiving. He made the first move after you had been talking for a bit and the mating bond was so close to snapping in place, he could almost feel it push the two of you together. Thankfully, you kissed back, and instantly knew the two of you were mates.

 L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

Even though the mating bond was in place, Azriel was still scared about your feelings. He didn’t want to say anything too soon in case you didn’t feel the same, so you ended up saying it first. Once you did, he immediately said it back and was enormously happy.

 M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

His favourite memory with you was when you went on a walk around a scenic park at dusk and it started pouring rain while you were out. Both your clothes got drenched before he had the chance to get you out of the storm, and it was too late when he was ready to. There was constant lightning filling the sky, and it would be dangerous to fly. The two of you ran hand in hand to a large tree on the side of the path and took shelter before winnowing back to your house. 

 N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

Azriel knows you don’t need or want expensive things, so instead he chooses more thoughtful and personal things to give you. Unable to help it, with his enormous wealth, he still buys you the occasional gift just because.

 O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

Light dusty pink reminds Azriel of you. You are so kind and heartfelt, he thinks the colour suits you perfectly. It goes so well with the Night court’s signature navy blue and the dynamic of the two colours describes your relationship perfectly.

 P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

Azriel will call you dear and love, but doesn’t go for the sickeningly sweet pet names unless he wants something from you or is being ironic. Then he opts for goddess divine or  honey bun.

 Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

Azriel loves reading with you. He loves to read and you being there makes it so much better. Sometimes you will play with his hair or he will mindlessly draw circles on your hand. Even though it is silent the whole time, it is perfect just to have you near while you both enjoy something you like. 

 R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

On rainy days, when the two of you are free, Azriel will often prepare an indoor date for just the two of you. Things like preparing a fancy dinner and dessert together and eating it in your finest cutlery, wearing a ball gown with jewelry and him a suit. Or setting up a blanket and picnic food on the porch while it pours just a few feet away. Rainy Days are like breaks from your everyday life when you can just calm down and relax with Azriel.

 S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

When Azriel is upset, you will always make him feel better. Though he never explicitly states he is upset, you can always tell by how he doesn’t talk much and just wants to be with you. When you are sad, you do the same, but Azriel always wants to know what the problem is and instantly tries to fix it once you have calmed down.  

 T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

The two of you love to dream about your future and picture how things will be. The details can get so specific, from talking about what colour your room will be to baby names. Every so often, when the mood is right, Azriel talks about his past and family, and you about yours, but your conversations tend to be light and positive. 

 U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

Whenever Azriel is uptight or upset, you instantly make him feel better, but when he can’t get to you, or you are busy, he reads.

 V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

Azriel is not the sort of person to boast about things, but when he is with the inner circle, the topic of his wingspan sometimes comes up. Instead of defending himself for everything, you often will say something in his place, though sometimes backhandedly slapping him which makes everyone laugh. 

 W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

Azriel proposes after you find out he is your mate. He waits until starfall and after everyone has resigned from dancing and drinking, he takes you to go star-watching on the top of the mountain and proposes at the height of the brightness. 

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

You and Azriel listen to classical music all the time, but the carnival of animals: The swan really reminds you of the other. 

 Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

Azriel knew he wanted to marry you once the mating bond clicked into place. Before that he was very unsure about your feelings and what your relationship was, but once it happened, he knew. 

 Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

Azriel would want something that could watch you and protect you when he was out on missions. Though he knows you are entirely capable of taking care of yourself, he still worries over you and wants to always be ready for anything.

Tag List (open, send me a message if u want in)

@theimaginehotspot

@moonlit-stardust

[daddysfangirls-marvel]

Finally stepping up

Request 

warning: angst, fluff, 

Request: Well my request is kinda have a long story about tony stark having a daughter reader through a one night stand and their relationship is strained (u know tony, drinking working and sex with other women) While tony while in Afghanistan she ran away because of stane because she overheard stane and he heard her listening and threatened that he will kill her or something like that or she had enough of tony's shit.

It was her birthday she was turning eleven her father promised to take her out for a special birthday dinner. She had put on her best dress and shoes and a button that she got from Pepper that said, birthday girl. She was so excited sitting on the couch. She was alone, besides Jarvis. Pepper had left because something important came up and Tony said he was right around the and she believed him and now it was going on for three hours and her father was still wasn’t here and she was all alone. 

But she was still excited because it was her birthday, it was her day, and her father promised a special dinner. So she continued to wait.

An hour later (y/n) was woken up by a large bang sitting up she hit her head. It was then that she realized she had fallen asleep under the coffee table. Much like her father she had the ability to sleep anywhere but her bed. (Y/n) was about to rush out from under the table when she heard voices one was her father and the other one an unfamiliar female. She hid back under the table and listened. She watched as they stumbled around giggling and laughing as the trip on the stairs. They continued all the way up to his bedroom. 

She flinched as she heard his door slam shut then her tears spill. She climbs out from under the table she rips off her button and runs to her room. Getting her blanket and Pillow (y/n) curls up in her tub and cries herself to sleep.

-

Pepper had just sent some reporter packing after finding her wandering the hall in nothing but a thong and tony’s shirt near (Y/n)’s room. She was mad- NO she was fuming she was fucking pissed. Tony had an award ceremony the night before and he had straight up told her he was going to miss it she was okay with that assuming he was keeping the promise he had given to his daughter a few days prior but that’s not what happened. Instead, he went out partying and brought a blonde bimbo report who fell for his charm home for one night. What made it even worse was she knew that this reporter would bite them in the ass later.

“Do you know what yesterday was?” Pepper asked her anger was very clear Tony flinched when he heard her voice and quickly put distance between them with a table. 

“I know, I know the award thing I missed it and I’m sorry but in my defense, I told you beforehand that didn’t want to go and that I wasn’t going and you said or you looked okay with it.”

“yes, I was okay with it because I assumed you would be spending the night with your daughter ya know because it was her GOD DAMN BIRTHDAY. That little girl cried herself to sleep last night as you were in between the legs of that blonde bitch. What do you have to say for yourself?”

Tony groaned as he dropped his head in his hands he didn’t have a good excuse “ I forgot”

“FORGETTING ISN’T GOOD ENOUGH. Especially when I left all these messages for you” Pepper clicked his computer screen and all the birthday messages reminding him of his daughter popped up.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t apologizes to me go apologies to your daughter. She is the one who sat up alone waiting for you all night, she is the one who's heartbroken, she is the one whose promise you broke.  You go apologizes to her NOOOOOW”

As Pepper began to screaming Tony rushed out of the door and up the stairs rushing to his daughter’s room. He busted through her door and fell on to her floor he crawls to her bed and pulls the covers back and finds it empty. When he turns around he flinches and yelps as he finds Peper behind him. She points a stern and scary finger to the bathroom Tony nods understanding and follows her finger feeling her glare burn his back. He gently knocks on the door when he hears a growl behind him he decides that was the wrong response he opens the door, the growling stops.

Peaking in the bathroom he sees a pile of blankets in the tub slowly he walks in and kneels before the tub. Pulling back the covers he sees (y/n) doing a terrible job of pretending to be asleep. Her eyebrows were furrowed and her face was scrunched up as she held on to her pillow tightly, it was a specially made pillow shaped like Captain America’s shield. 

Tony smiled and he caressed her cheek with his finger “Good morning, darling. I owe you an apologie. I’m sorry I missed your big day I got caught up and forgot I’m so sorry. “ (Y/n) began to squirm away from his touch “I’ll make it up to you. How about me and you have breakfast together?”

She slowly opens her eyes “ Can Pepper come with?” she whispered 

“Of course, I mean who’s going to cook breakfast because I sure can’t. And I know you don't want burnt pancakes and eggs”  she laughed it was true Tony did not have a culinary bone in his body and she knew it, they all knew it. “ Okay now how about you get dressed I’ll meet you downstairs.” He kisses her forehead and helps her out of the tub and watches as she runs off to her closet. 

Tony turns to Pepper she gives him an approving nod then shooshes him out so they could go downstairs and make breakfast together. 

Pepper had taught Tony and (y/n) how to make strawberry waffles, more so (y/n) than Tony. They all had a nice breakfast together before Pepper realized how Late Tony was, then rushed them all out.

“You’re late,” Rhodey said as Tony get out the car.

“I was having Birthday waffles with my daughter.” Rhodey looks over his shoulder at Pepper who was in the car she nods and he understands does ask anything further. He brushes Tony off with two soldiers and leans into the car.

“Happy late birthday, sweetheart. Here I got you something. I hope you like it” He gives her her gift and blows her a kiss as he rushes to catch the plane.

“BRING MY DADDY BACK WE’VE GOT A DINNER DATE” she sticks her head out the window and shouts. He gives her a thumbs up and nods he’d bring him back. 

But he doesn’t.

(Y/n) Cries hard and long when her father doesn’t come up. No one knows what to do.

-

Despise everything that happens (y/n) refuses to leave her home in Miami and go to her mother. It isn’t that her mother is bad or anything she just didn’t want to leave any of her father behind and this house this home was everything of her father. She couldn’t take it away and she definitely couldn’t leave it.

Pepper and Happy stayed with her in the house until her mother could make it down to Miami. Rhodey couldn’t bring himself to see her as he blamed himself for her father’s absence he said he wouldn’t return until he brought her father home.

“Awww” (y/n) mother, Lillith said as she entered her daughter’s room. Her daughter’s bedroom walls were decorated with blown-up pictures of her with friends and family throughout her life it was so adorable. Although she did scoff at a few of the pictures with Tony that showed he was obviously drunk or on drugs.

Lillith did everything in her power to hide her child from Tony but when medical problems came during her pregnancy she needed all the help she could get so she called him up. At first, he didn't believe her but then he did then she gave birth and he asked for a DNA test. Then he offered to pay child support but didn’t want to be there. Then he took her to court because he couldn't grow to legs to come to see his daughter and blamed it on her.

He and his money, of course, won the court case they had shared custody...at first. Lillith had a misstep and lost her job Tony took her back to court and got full custody of (y/n) while she only got visitation every other weekend. He was a fucking bastard that didn't even raise (y/n) Pepper and Happy did while he ran around drinking, partying, and laying with more women. And a judge thought he was the fit parent.

Despite how much she loathed him she couldn’t lie Tony did have a few good moments with their daughter, even if they were few and far between, and the pictures on her wall were proof of it.

“When daddy gets back we’re going on a dinner date. I’m going to wear this” (Y/n) said as she pulled out a red ball gown from her closet showing it off to her. 

(Y/n) was fully aware of what happened to her father Tony had gone off to some foreign country to show off his weapons and the car he was in was ambushed and he was taken away. No one knew where he was, if he was alive, or if he would be returning but (Y/n) was a hundred percent sure she was still having her dinner date with her father even if it isn't on the actual day they planned.

“Where do you think he’s going to take me, Mommy?” Lillith didn’t have the heart to break her daughter's own.

“Where ever you want” she smiled kneeling before her daughter she looked at the dress in her hands “Somewhere fancy honey, Hopefully”.

Everyone could believe Tony was a jerk and didn’t win any awards on parenting but they never agreed on the reasons why. Whereas with Obadiah Stane they could all agree that he was a greedy and sick man and they didn’t want him anywhere near (y/n). After Tony went missing Stane true closers were seen. Running around trying to have talks with (y/n) and tell her about the company. It was very easy to see why he was doing it turns out Tony put a contract together saying if something were to happen to him the company would go to (y/n) when she turned 18 and until then call company matters were to go through Pepper and her mother first. 

Now no one but Stane and the lawyer knew that last bit and they did not share it. So instead of Pepper and Lillith stepping up for (y/n), Obadiah was calling all the shots much like he had done and had been doing with Tony. But unlike Tony (y/n) wasn’t so gullible and could see right through him. And one day she popped the fuck off on him.

He was trying to tell her about the company and weapons and money, he tried to get her to sign over part of the company to him at some point and she just couldn’t take it anymore and pop off on him.

“GO AWAY. I DON’T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT THIS STUFF-NO I DON’T WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU STOP TRYING TO PUT STUFF IN MY HEAD. YOU ARE NOT MY GUARDIAN YOU AREN’T HELPING ME YOU’RE JUST MAKING IT ALL WORSE. This isn't your company it belongs to the Starks. When my father returns, and he will, he’ll take his company back and kick you to the curve where you belong. You’ve gotten way too comfortable it’s time you leave.”

After that big meltdown (y/n) began to study the company pulling document after document. At this point it was like she knew more about the company it’s processing and it’s history than the old farts that ran it. Although she did have to fight for some documents as Stane himself tried to keep them from them she also noticed that a few were altered.

At a very young age (y/n) knew how to run the company better than Tony ever did.

It was a day (y/n) was neck-deep of the companies files when she got the news that her father was found.

-

(y/n) watched as her father limps out of the plane Rhodey by his side. Standing by the car was Happy, Pepper, (y/n) and her mother all of them with tears in their eyes although Happy hid his tears with a pair of thick sunglasses.

“Did you miss me?” he said as he looked at his daughter

“You missed our date” (Y/n) said pouting as tears started to fall down her face letting go of her mother she rushed and gave Tony a hug. “ I knew it, I knew it you were still alive. Everyone kept saying no but I knew it.” she squeezed him tight he whined but didn’t say anything

“sweetheart?”

“Please don’t leave me again”

“I won’t. I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere.” With his one free arm, he wiped her tears away and kissed her forehead. “Hey,” Tony said as he looked to Lillith who was wiping her tears from her eyes “I’m going to step up my game. I’m going to do better. I’d appreciate it if you stuck around and helped.”

“I guess someone has to cook. Lord knows Pepper is tired of feeding you. I’m surprised she hasn’t poisoned you yet.” She turned her back and got in the car. Tony laughed a bit as he hugged Pepper and Happy too. They were happy to have him back but a bit upset they wouldn’t be working for (y/n) anymore apparently she was the better boss. 

Once the reunion was done and Tony was filled in on what happened while he was gone everyone piled into the car and Tony began firing off orders. He wanted a Press conference and a cheese Burger immediately just about everyone scolded him for not going to a hospital first but he would not budge. A Burger and Press conference nothing else. Maybe a Happy meal and ice cream for (y/n) but nothing else. 

And that’s how (Y/n) found herself sitting next to her father as she happily ate fries only half paying attention. She only really started paying attention as she heard the end of her father’s speech when he announced that Stark Industries would no longer be selling weapons everyone was in an uproar (Y/n) jumped up excitedly.

“REALLY, REALLY, REALLY”

“yes, really,” Tony said addressing his daughter and ignoring the press but they were listening in to the father-daughter conversation.

“No more hurting people?”

“no more hurting people. Now we’re going to help people.”  Obadiah Stane tried to step in and talk some sense into Tony but he gave him a nasty glare and held up a finger to tell him to stop. But apparently, that wasn’t warning enough because the man kept talking so he just straight up said “Shut the fuck”

The room fell silent.

“I am talking to my daughter who I haven’t seen in months. Do not interrupt me. I am My daughter’s for the next few days.” With that, he scooped (y/n) up in his arms and walked out Happy, Pepper, and Lillith following as his entourage. And while he told (y/n) this awesome story about how he made an iron Suit in the desert. By the end of their date, she has convinced him make her one too.

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[thegildedkelpie]

- P R O L O G U E -

Rating: Young Adult

Warnings: Sexual assault, gore, various distressing themes

Summary: Humans have a lot of names for the Veil; the Other Side, the Great Beyond, the Heavens or the Hells, Limbo, Purgatory. The Norse had Niflheim and Alfheim, the Gaelic and the Welsh had  Tír na nÓg and Annwn. Nowadays, the slang is simply Veilside. Easy, quick, and it doesn’t come heavy with cultural ties.

Severed has lived with one foot Veilside and the other foot Humanside for as long as he could remember. He works and lives in an abysmal halfway place, a pocket dimension powered by brutal, messy magic, slaving away in a slaughterhouse to pay off a debt.

Niamh stepped unwittingly Veilside in high school, cutting his life abruptly short and ruining what remained. He works in a gilded cage, a beautiful, famous brothel, until one day he gets out.

When Severed lets Niamh crash on his couch, the precarious balance he’s managed to keep up begins to tilt.

┕━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━┙

“What is your name?” the nurse asked. She was wearing plain white from her head to her ankles; an apron over her dress, socks that hid the skin of her legs. Her shoes shone black.

Niamh stared at her, fingers tangled in the sheets of the bed he didn't remember waking up in. There was a horrible, sugary, bile-heavy taste stuck in his throat and his head felt heavy. “Where am I?”

She smiled. “The Gardens, of course.” She said it precisely, like a title. “What is your name?”

“What's the gardens?” he asked warily, looking down at himself. He had been in a hoodie and skinny jeans, but someone had stripped those off and replaced them with what seemed to be a pale cream gown. He pulled his legs up. A pang of nausea hit as his bare legs beneath – bare everything – brushed the fabric. “Where am I?”

“There is nothing to be frightened of,” she said kindly, setting a hand on his shoulder. She had pointed ears like he did, but the face was wrong. She was not like him. Even with barely any time veilside, he could tell. “Everything will be explained in time. Please tell me your name so that we can start the paperwork.”

“Is this a hospital?” he asked. Maybe he’d gotten sick, or passed out somewhere. The last thing he remembered were vodka shots and thumping music at a club he shouldn’t have even been at. He looked at her chest, at her simple, dated dress and white coat, but there was no name tag or ID badge. Purple, bell shaped flowers were embroidered on the cuffs of the white coat and the rounded collar of her dress, small pops of color.

She nodded, looking pleased. “We're here to make sure you're healthy. Now, your name?”

He stared at her and finally said, “Niamh?”

The nurse made a pleased noise and started scribbling on the clipboard. Unlike the humans he was used to, she did not ask him to spell it out for her. “Middle and last names?”

He ignored her. “How...how did I get here?” He leaned forward, heart pounding. He wanted to go home. He wanted to be able to walk into the front door of his house in Las Vegas instead of being forbidden from entry, or for his parents to look at him instead through him. The Veil had been fun until it wasn’t, the magic amazing until it had become frightening. “I don't remember anything but a party.”

She didn't look up from her clipboard. “We had to sedate you. You were getting sick all over the place.”

“Sick? From the party?”

Nothing but the scratch of a pen answered him. After a long moment of scribbling on the clipboard, she looked at him. Her smile had not changed in the slightest. “I'll be right back with your paperwork, alright?”

“Okay.” It was discharge papers, he bet. She would bring him his discharge papers, his vomited on clothes, and he would leave. The faeries he'd been travelling with would probably be waiting in the front lobby of the hospital, ready to laugh at him and slap him on the back and drag him off to another wild party, another few nights of trying to forget what he had given up when he’d made the choice to cross the Lines.

He watched her go because there was nothing else to do.

After a few moments, the door opened and he got a glimpse of high white walls and decorative moulding, gleaming mirrors and paintings in gold frames, before the door shut behind the nurse. She had a slip of cream paper in her hand and a pen.

She held it out to him. “Please sign this.”

He took it, expecting a discharge paper, but it was thicker than he expected and soft to the touch. The letters were incredibly small and the font was blocky and hard to read. The title was illuminated, colourful, and gilded, a green leafed plants climbing up the side margins to border the text, bell shaped purple flowers and black berries hanging between paragraphs. “What is this?”

“Your contract.”

“Discharge papers?” he asked. His head pounded but there was no music.

“Contract,” she corrected. “Please sign it so we can move you on out of here.”

“Am I going home?” he asked, but he had no home. Not now. Not anymore.

“You're already home,” the nurse said.

Niamh shook his head, stomach twisting. He teetered to his feet. The floor pulled him down and he stumbled, the nurse catching his arm. “I'm going.”

“Going where? There's nowhere to go until you sign,” she laughed.

The faeries had warned him never to sign a contract, never to trust a person with a hidden name, to avoid unmarked vans and unclear signage, swamps and bridled horses and will o' wisps, people with sprigs of rowan or ash pinned to their breasts, to not be swayed by the glamour of high courts or old money or the shiny, neon lights of the new money.

“What’s your name?” he asked dizzily.

“Tint,” she said smoothly. She couldn't lie, he knew, but she could obfuscate, tell him a nickname with no power or identification.

“Where are my friends?” He pulled away from her and found it difficult to remain upright. The room spun around him.

“I wouldn't know, you arrived here alone. I promise there are new friends here that you just haven't met yet.”

He looked around. The room was nondescript and plain but there were details he hadn't noticed before. The counters were white, the walls were white, the floor was checkerboard white and black marble tiles, and there was a strange stain in one white tile, rusty and shimmery and pale. Would the door be locked? Would he make it if it wasn't and he ran? “I prefer my old ones.”

“But everyone likes new friends, don't they?” Her head tilted to the side. “Please sit down, Niamh. You are dizzy.”

His stomach was sinking lower, lower. “Did you give me something?” he asked and realized at the same time.

“No,” she said, touching his elbow. He tried to stumble away from her. “You were unconscious when you arrived.”

He looked down at his inner arms. In the crook of one elbow was a little red dot – needle mark. He wasn't strong, always coughing and catching colds and bleeding all over his homework from his nose, but he was quick. He darted for the door and was out of the miraculously unlocked entryway before the nurse could grab him. The hall had high, vaulted ceilings, doors on one side and windows into a courtyard patio on the other, buttery sunlight pouring in. Another nurse was pushing a tea tray down the hall and she stared at him, mouth open.

“Are you lost?” she asked, but he was attempting to sprint down the hall before she finished. His vision spiralled, sending him skidding, knocking into the wall to stay upright. The gown had a back, which spared him some humiliation of running down a hall with his ass exposed to the world. It was a small comfort, but something nonetheless.

He had always been quick, pressured to join track team year after year despite his coughing fits, and the nurse was not fast enough to catch him. The double doors at the end of the hall swung open when he threw himself into them.

The air was not cold but it wasn’t warm, either. The sun was bright but not as blinding as it should have been. It was as if the weather was so mild that there was no weather at all.

Scattered across the patio extending into the green courtyard were tables, and other people in gowns stared at him, plates of sweets and pots of tea in front of them. A few laughed and pointed, snickering behind their hands.

“Niamh, get back here!” the nurse called, beetle-black penny loafers clacking on the marble floor, closer, closer.

He stumbled down the steps, darting around the placid people at patio tables, but the courtyard was surrounded on all sides with the grand building, a beautifully arranged cage.

His nurse had gained an ally in the nurse who was pushing the tea cart, and they hurried towards him together. Niamh, facing nowhere to go, splashed into the nearest fountain and scrambled up the tiered pools until he was crouched at the top, soaked from the waist down in freezing, mossy water.

“Get away from me,” Niamh shouted down at them.

“Niamh, please come down of your own volition or we will be forced to remove you,” his nurse called to him.

“Don't we have enough twinks?” an attractive man in a pale blue gown asked loudly, pouring himself another cup of tea. He had one black eye and a split lip. His companion, skin dusted mauve, muttered at him, kicking him under the table.

Niamh was not magic the way the other faeries were. He had only intent, but no real action, and therefore the nurses were not compelled when he said loudly, “Stay away.”

His nurse glared at him. “You will come down or we will have someone take you down.”

“Hey kid, just come down!” another person in a gown called from a table farther away. They had an IV pole connected to their arm and gently curling horns. They were so delicately pretty he couldn't tell if they were a boy or a girl. “You're ruining breakfast. God knows that's the only good thing about this fucking hospice!”

Both nurses spared the person a hard look.

His heart hammered. The walls looked too high to climb, but could he try? “Where am I?”

His nurse, Tint, managed to sound patient when she said, “I told you, Niamh. You are in the Gardens. You need to sign your contract.”

“What's the Gardens?” he called down, fingers digging into the stone. He felt like he was a container filled with liquid, and the liquid was sloshing against the cracking walls. It was only a matter of time before something gave, either his stomach or his consciousness.

Tint put her hands on her hips as the other nurse went to a man in black body armour standing watch by the double doors and started talking to him inaudibly, pointing up at him. The man leaned his head down and talked into a walkie strapped to his chest. “Your new home and place of employment,” she said sternly, as the man began approaching.

“I don't want a job,” he said, but felt like it wasn't employment he was being offered. “I'm in high school.”

“You will be given the opportunity to finish your education here. We rescued you from the streets. By all means, if you would rather live in squalor until someone comes to take advantage of you, we can make arrangements, but first you need to come down here and get out of the fountain.” She glared up at him.

Niamh shook his head. “I would rather leave. I don't want to be here and I won't get out of the fountain.”

She stepped closer to the edge of the fountain, hands on her hips and eyes hard. “We want what is best for you, Niamh. That's why you're here. We know you're a changeling. The choice is always hard, and we are happy that you have decided to live life as you actually are. But Niamh,” her voice gentled when he gripped the wet, mossy artichoke decoration at the top of the fountain tighter. “Where will you go when we drop you off at the bar we found you at, passed out and covered in vomit, danced half to death? You don't know the laws, the culture, the language. Your friends wanted something to drag around, not someone to look after. We will look after you here, I promise.”

Some of the people at the tables were nodding along with her. Others had their eyes glued to the tables in front of them.

“I can look after myself,” he shouted down, throwing handful of algae. “I didn't drink that much!” It was half true. He had paced himself carefully but still couldn't remember the night.

Tint sighed, voice lowering. “Get him down.”

The guard approached the fountain, pulling out some sort of cylindrical tool. Niamh had classmates with allergies, at his high school, and the thing looked like an epi-pen. Somehow, he didn’t think it was wielded to save lives.

“Come on, kid, don't make this hard. Everyone else is just trying to enjoy their breakfasts.” He had a soft accent, something hard to place. Everyone on this side had an accent, though, and it was futile to try and place it. The languages spoken were countless, here, and all unfamiliar.

He clung to the artichoke. If he passed out, maybe he would fall and be too hurt for whatever they wanted of him. “You're the one making it hard.”

“That's what she said!” crowed someone from the tables. There was scattered, half hearted chuckles. People sipped their tea and watched placidly. He watched a scattering of them shake their heads and get up, retreating into the building.

The guard, whose nameplate read Duergar, sloshed into the fountain and waded for the centre. “Get down here before you get hurt,” he said, clambering into the first platform pool.

“No,” he hissed, standing slowly. He teetered on the edge, but there was nowhere higher to climb.

“Sit down!” The nurses both yelled.

“Get down here, you little shit,” Duergar the guard who was not very fast or good at climbing, ground out through his teeth, which were sharp. He climbed, sopping, into the second platform pool. Niamh was almost within his reach.

When Duergar's fingers poked over the edge to pull himself up, Niamh slammed his heel down onto them. Duergar yelped and the crowd down below cheered, clapping. Duergar grabbed his ankle and Niamh swayed. “You're going to get yourself hurt!”

“ You're hurting me,” he snapped, shaking his leg so violently the rest of him tried to topple the other way. He scrambled to hold on to the artichoke. The algae slipped beneath his hands, forcing his nails to bite into the stone beneath.

“I hate changelings,” Duergar muttered, yanking on his ankle. “Sit down before you fall off of this thing and crack open your head.”

Below, people were talking. He heard what is happening? and someone replied the new guy wants to go home. The reply was too quiet to hear, a murmur that felt like pity.

Niamh yanked his ankle back, harder, but he was not strong and this was not something he could run from. He said, half true, “I'll curse you if you don't let go.”

Duergar hesitated. “If you curse me I'll make sure you'll regret it,” he threatened, pulling on his leg.

“Doesn't mean you won't be cursed,” he hissed, panicked as he dug his nails down to avoid being dragged. A second hard yank made him let go. A third made him go careening over the edge only to be caught under one of Duergar's broad arms. He kicked and bit and scratched but was still brought down, landing with a splash into the water. He pushed onto his hands, sputtering.

“Little shit,” Duergar huffed.

Niamh glared up at him. He could see his pores widen into pox, his hair turn to straw. “I hope you rot.”

Duergar knotted fat, meaty fingers in Niamh's hair and shoved him under the water. Niamh struggled against him, panicking, but Duergar was stronger. He tried to pry his gloved fingers from his hair but couldn't.

He held his breath as long as he could, but the guard did not let go. In all his struggling, his mouth opened and water rushed down his throat, mossy and cold. Panic followed the water into his lungs, settling into each delicate bronchiole.

His heart kicked up another impossible notch and he tried to get leverage with his knees. They dug hard into the algae until they scraped, bleeding, on the stone bottom of the fountain and he attempted to heave himself upwards. Duergar's grip did not budge and Niamh was left in the cold, rushing dark, watching bubbles and bits of green float past his eyes

Duergar heaved him up before his blurring vision went black. He clutched at the mossy edge of the pool, the world spinning, and coughed up lungfuls of water until he was gagging, vomiting up bile into the water. Duergar made a disgusted noise.

The spectators were not laughing, anymore, but they didn't look surprised or concerned either.

“Still cursed,” he wheezed, heart pounding, terrified, in his chest.

His hand pulled on his hair and Niamh gasped, fingers tearing at Duergar's,  but Tint shouted “Enough!” before he could shove him under again. “Bring him down. He needs to sign his contract before we can perform a medical examination.”

Niamh tried to step over the side when he was pulled, stumbling instead, skidding across marble through the gown. “I won't sign,” he said again.

But he would sign, and back in the examination room he did sign. He wrote his name – first, middle, last – wherever prompted. Duergar lingered by the door as Tint left, carrying the paper contract with her. A doctor replaced her, a gold robed man following behind him, eyes tattooed on his hands, who stood in the corner and watched.

The doctor peeled off the gown and Niamh let him because there was nothing he could do to stop it. He jabbed and prodded and fondled at his body, took his weight and his height, looked into his mouth and his ears and his eyes. His ribs were painstakingly counted, each joint bent. He did a vision test, a hearing test, and took his blood. At the end of the examination, when his medical form was completed, the gold robed man held his jaw in his hands and stared at him for far too long before nodding and finally leaving, the doctor trailing behind.

Duergar dragged him out of the room and down the hall and into an elevator. It was a complicated series of elevators and stairs and turns until he was being shoved into what looked like a dorm room. Niamh had expected to be left alone, but Duergar came in, too, shutting the door behind him.

His hands went to his belt and Niamh, resisting the same way he had in the fountain, went to the bed.

His first impression was that he was going to be beaten with a belt like some of the parents in his shitty neighborhood had done to their kids, but the belt hit the ground, forgotten. Duergar's fingers unbuttoned his pants, pulling down his zipper, and Niamh curled his knees closer to himself.

[there-and-always-back-again]

Captain’s Biggest Weakness - Levi Ackerman’s Love Story, Part 2

“Where is she?” growled Eren, furiously pacing back and forth. “It’s been all day!”

“She’ll be alright, you shouldn’t worry about her,” comforted him Armin, who was concerned about his friend not eating all day long.

Mikasa was sitting with the others at the table. They were all having a joyful conversation, but her focus was elsewhere.

“Would you two knock it off? She’s a big girl, she can handle herself. Eren, come and have something for dinner, please!” she begged.

Eren gave up looking through the window with the hopes of catching a glance of Vee and sat in front of the huge table, filled with various dishes. They were all prepared in celebration of the first day of the trainees’ program, yet he couldn’t find any of them appetizing. Captain Levi had made Vee do six hundred push-ups which Eren knew were an impossible task for her. She wouldn’t be able to do more than one hundred before she crashed onto the ground. While Eren couldn’t eat a single bite, the captain was peacefully sipping his tea at the other side of the table, not minding anyone’s presence, except his own thoughts.

Suddenly, Eren heard someone calling his name. He almost thought it was inside his own head, but then he noticed that others heard it, too.

###

“Eren! Eren, can you hear me? Could you open the door, please? I don’t think my hands are working,” I yelled from the other side.

I had successfully entered the mansion and I gotta tell you, those huge doors seemed heavier to push than ever. Maybe it was because I had entirely lost the strength of my arms. I felt my muscles burning, yet I could barely move them. It took me more than 6 hours to complete the task. I had taken breaks between them and although I had been training for so long, I knew that six hundred push-ups was something even a well-trained guy would find difficult achieving. And yet, I had done all of them. S-i-x-h-u-n-d-r-e-d.

The door to the kitchen, however, was impossible to push. Not because it was any heavier than the previous ones, it’s just that my hands had given up on me.

I heard Eren’s footsteps. He rushed me inside the kitchen.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s here. Have you completed the task I gave you?” asked captain Levi. That dark smirk was on his face again.

“Yes, sir,” I responded. My voice was shaking and I could sense Eren’s grip tightening around me. I knew he was getting mad.

I realized captain Levi hadn’t looked me in the eyes since I first met him outside the mansion. He wasn’t even looking at me now! He was blankly staring at his cup of tea with steam coming out of it.

“Hm, good. Sit down, have something to eat,” he said, in a surprisingly calm way.

Eren sat me down next to him.

“Here, let me feed you. Your hands must be shaking,” he said and stuffed a huge spoon with rice inside my mouth. He wasn’t wrong. I really couldn’t move them. 

Although I was finally inside where everything was warm and my arms were resting, I couldn’t help myself but wonder - was I that repulsive to him that he couldn’t even look me in the eyes and acknowledge my existence?

###

“WAKEY, WAKEY, SLEEPY HEADS! TIME TO FIND OUT HOW TO KICK SOME TITAN ASS!” I heard Connie yelling outside in the hallway while knocking on each and every bedroom door.

He was a sweet guy - Connie. I barely knew him since I’d only met him several days ago, but I knew he had a kind heart. However, I wanted to kill him for waking us up so early.

The past week had been terrible. I cannot explain what captain Levi had put me through. While everyone else had been given tasks such as running a mile, doing a hundred sit-ups, carrying weights and fitting gear, the second day I had been made to run all day long, the third I had to carry everyone’s bags (which were even heavier than the weights others were given) and the thing I hated the most - I had to hold a long stick with two buckets filled with sand on each side. 

And on top of that, I had to do it while standing on a lever IN THE MIDDLE OF A LAKE. Of course, I couldn’t do it, I’d fail every time and fall into the lake.

I have no idea why he hated me so much. Was he that petty? Making me do so many unnecessary things just to punish me for one sentence? I hated him, yet I have to admit - I enjoyed looking at him.

Even though he put me through such useless labor just to teach me a lesson, I found myself staring at him every moment possible. The way his hair was occasionally covering his blue eyes, his slim and fit physique with a shirt showing the perfect form of his muscles.

And the mystery - maybe this was the most attractive thing about him. You could never figure out what he was thinking. He’d always look a bit bored, a bit annoyed and that made you want to prove yourself to him.

I could leave the training camp at any moment. Nobody was forcing me to do any of this. Yet, I wanted to prove myself to him. Show the captain that I was worthy.

Many days had passed and most of them repeated themselves - others doing normal tasks, me - doing practically the impossible.

It was the middle of the night and I couldn’t fall asleep. I barely slept at the camp because I was too worried about the following day. I decided to go to the kitchen and make myself some tea.

I was wearing nothing but my night gown, which (to be exact) wasn’t the most appropriate wear, yet I didn’t think much of it, because it was way past everyone’s bedtime. Nobody could possible be awake at this early hour. The following day we would have been trying the vertical maneuvering equipment, so nobody wanted to be tired for that.

As I was making tea, I thought I heard footsteps behind me. I cannot explain how terrified I was of the idea of someone seeing me like this. It could have been Connie, Marco or even Eren. Gosh, I really wished it wasn’t Eren, I would have been so embar-

“What... are you doing?” asked captain Levi completely startled.

I wanted to die. I tried covering myself with my hands, but that did nothing. He was standing several steps away from me, entirely still. He didn’t move a muscle and for the first time ever I could see something other than boredom or annoyance in his eyes. He looked absolutely shocked.

“I’m so sorry, Captain, I never even thought that someone would be awake at this early hour, I-”

Captain Levi took off the jacket he was wearing and threw it at me.

“Please, put this on,” he said. The moment I covered myself his face went back to normal... He was annoyed again. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“I don’t usually sleep well. Tea helps!” I said jokingly, trying to cheer both of us up a little. His expression didn’t change. He sat at the table and opened up a book, as if nothing happened.

Suddenly, I got extremely mad. He had been torturing me for weeks, treating me like garbage and now entirely disregarding the situation. He could’ve said that it was at least okay, that I shouldn’t worry.

My anxiety was piling up. I couldn’t contain my tears.

“Captain,” I started sobbing. I hated myself for being so emotional and weak. “Can I ask you... Why do you treat me so badly?”

I felt utterly scared. I couldn’t believe I had asked him this. I was so screwed. I knew he’d kick me out of the camp the following morning.

Yet, for my surprise, he didn’t even look at me. Was I interesting to him only when I wasn’t wearing much clothing?

Anger started building up inside me once again.

“LEVI, AM I THAT DISGUSTING TO YOU? AM I THAT WEAK AND PATHETIC?”

 The captain instantly stood up and started walking towards me. Was he... going to hit me? I expected everything from him. Instead, he pushed me against the wall and hit its bricks as hard as he could right next to my face. He looked fierce.

“Pathetic? Disgusting?” he asked with a cold voice. “Haven’t you learned anything?”

I could feel his breath on my skin. I was shaking. I felt so terrified of him, yet I wanted to... kiss Levi? What was I even thinking, what is wrong with me? He’s a lot older than I am and he’s our future captain, but still I had never felt more drawn to another human being.

His eyes were piercing. He was leaning towards me and our faces were almost touching.

“I’m sorry, I really am,” I sighed. “I never wanted to make you mad.”

“Don’t you understand... Everything I’ve done, I did it to make you stronger... I... I can’t explain it,” he said.

I felt confused. What was he saying?

“The minute I saw you I knew I had to protect you. I had to teach you everything I knew, and my whole life all I’ve known is... pain. I learned from it, it taught me. And it made me stronger.”

He was panting, I could feel the heat coming out of his body.

“But why me? I’m nothing more than anyone else,” I asked quietly.

“I think I feel something for you that I haven’t felt for a long time before.”

My heart started racing. Captain Levi had feelings for me? I was going crazy.

“Kiss me, then.”

I can’t believe I said something like this. Goodbye, training camp.

And yet, he leaned even closer - our lips were almost touching and I could sense the smell of his skin when he suddenly pulled back.

“No,” he responded.

I was absolutely confused and even more embarrassed.

“But, but... Why?” I asked.

“I can’t let myself. I’ve too many enemies that always manage to find my weaknesses. And unfortunately, you’ve become one of them.”