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therealvalkyrie · 4 years

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Through the Mirror: Part 1

my body, my music

Pairing/setting: Detective!Levi Ackerman x Female!Ghost!Reader, modern!AU within the Walls

Summary: When you’re murdered one Tuesday morning, can Levi piece together the true circumstances of your death with your help from beyond the grave?

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: dead body, descriptions of blood, swearing, mentions of violence

AN: Welcome to my new series because I have no self control and can’t finish projects before starting others! Lemme just start off by saying updates may come pretty irregularly because I do have a lot of other WIPs to work on, but! I’m really excited about this idea and have a whole lot planned:) I seriously hope you enjoy. After all, who doesn’t love a good murder mystery? Drop into my DMs/askbox/comments/reblogs to let me know what you think! Be kind to yourselves and others. ~valkyrie

“Ah, shit! Hello!? I’m standing right here!”

The woman completely ignores you, stepping carefully over the puddle of blood and across your tiny living room. You cross your arms and pout. She ignores that, too.

“‘Scuse me, boys, let the experts take it from here,” she quips, gently pushing past the two detectives and crouching next to your body on the ground.

It’s ugly, but she’s probably seen worse, you muse from where you’re leaning against the door jamb. It’s only been lying there for a couple of hours, so at least you haven’t bloated to something out of an NCIS episode. Must smell horrid, though, judging by the mask the head detective has pulled over his face.

“So, you said the landlady called at about 7 am?” the ME inquires, cocking her head up to look at the detectives, nylon gloved hands held at the ready.

“7:07 exactly. Said a neighbor made a noise complaint, she came up to check it out, found signs of a forced entry, and called us.” It’s the taller blonde who speaks up, reading from an off-brand pocket notepad in his left hand. The kind you’d find on sale at Staples after Back-to-School season.

Interesting. You lean your head against the wall, eyes trained on the trio. You’d pegged the ill-tempered shorter one as in charge. Maybe he’s just the quiet type.

“Hmm, alright. Moblit, get off your ass and come take the pictures before we move her,” the woman calls to someone behind you, and you turn just in time to get a face full of Moblit’s chest as he walks towards you.

You cringe back with a “God, seriously?” to no response.

“Yes, sorry, right away, Hange!” Moblit hurries past- no, through -you, sidestepping the ottoman and the blood. It feels weird, like a strong wind, but not altogether unpleasant to have someone walk through you, you suppose. You look down at your chest to watch your misty body re-settle into itself before looking back at the group in your living room.

Were it not for the gruesome accents of blood flecked up the walls and your body riddled with stab wounds, you’d chuckle at how all four of them struggled to navigate the space. It’s cramped enough when it’s just you, fitting only a couch, a chair, a coffee table, your fern (Boris), and a narrow IKEA bookshelf. With the four of them plus a dead body, it’s like watching a freaking clown car.

“Sorry, excuse me, Captain, oh, was that your toe—?” Moblit’s struggling the most, having to move to capture different angles with his bulky camera. When he steps on the shorter man’s toe, he positively blanches, fumbling over himself to apologize while the ME laughs openly.

“God, alright, just,” the Captain pinches his delicate nose between a thumb and forefinger, then decides it’s better to wait in the kitchen. “C’mon, Gin, let’s chat in there.”

The Captain and the blonde detective both pass through you on the way back to the kitchen, but you only sigh and shake the tingly feeling of being incorporeal out of your fingers before following them.

“So,” the man called Gin takes the initiative, flipping back through his notebook and standing by the fridge. “I got statements from the landlady and two of the neighbors, numbers 303 and 304 down the hall. 301, directly across the hall, didn’t answer, but I got contact info from the landlady.” He pauses to read and scratch at his whiskery beard. “It was 304 who made the noise complaint, said she heard yelling this morning at around 5:45, and that she normally wouldn’t’ve said anything but it was, quote, the fourth goddamn time this week and I work the goddamn night shift, I deserve some fucking rest, unquote.”

You grin. Mrs. Sheffield was never one to mince words, something you appreciated when your ex-boyfriend got too loud and she took it upon herself to give him a piece of her mind. You catch a glimmer of a smile on the ornery Captain’s face above where he’s pulled his mask down before he gestures for Gin to keep going, keeping his thoughtful gaze fixed on the floor and his back against your countertop.

“Then after she called the landlady, she went to bed, only to be woken by us two hours later.”

“You said she called the landlady at 5:45 and that she works the night shift?”

Gin double checks his notes. “That’s right.”

“And she works at the hospital?”

“Yes, as a scrub nurse on the night shift.”

“But the night shift at the hospital ends at 6:30.”

“It was her night off,” you and Gin say at the same time before you catch yourself. They can’t hear you, anyway. This’d be a lot easier if they could.

Gin plows ahead. “But she says she keeps the same sleep schedule so she doesn’t, ah, fuck up her circadian rhythm.”

The Captain practically snorts at this, itching for a second under his silk cravat (can someone say pretentious) before settling back into a listening silence.

“303 says he didn’t hear a thing. College kid, looked exhausted. Said he was asleep the whole night after he got in at,” a page flip, “11 o’clock last night. Wasn’t much help, but looked genuinely upset when we told him about the murder. Wanted to know if there was anything he could do. Oh, but he did, uh, hang on,” more page flips, “He did tell us that he heard her and her boyfriend arguing a lot. Which is consistent with what Mrs. Sheffield told us.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” you correct into thin air.

“A lover’s spat gone wrong, then,” Mr. Pretentious Captain muses. You huff in annoyance. A lover’s spat. If that’s all that this is written off as you’ll have some serious PD haunting to do. Chris may have been an angry, loud, disruptive manipulator, but he wouldn’t murder you. He didn’t murder you. “Any info on the whereabouts of the boyfriend?”

“Ex-boyf—!”

Blondie cuts you off, “Not currently, but we do have a name: Chris Henderson, works in admin down at the University. Lives across town closer to the Bridge.”

“Send some uniforms to bring him in for questioning. No arrests yet, tell ‘em to keep it friendly.”

“Right, I’ll put Dreyse and Bodt on it.”

“Dreyse, really?” Captain Cravat gives Gin an incredulous look.

“Hey, she may look like a ditz but she gets the job done. And she might get him to let down his guard,” Gin argues, grinning.

“Fine. I’ll meet them at the station, you stay here and make sure that mousy-haired dunce doesn’t fuck up my crime scene.”

“Hey, who’re you callin’ mousy-haired, short stack?” Hange actually sticks her whole head through yours this time, to butt into the conversation, and you shriek and jump away to the other side of your tiny kitchen, now sandwiched between Blondie and Shortstack. The latter twitches and swats at the air by his ear, as though to dislodge a fly, narrowly missing yours. You give him a weird look then turn back to listen to the ME. She’s leaning into the kitchen at an alarming angle, one hand on the doorframe and the other on the end of the gurney you assume is carrying your body. You shudder at the thought of being toted around in a dark, musty, humid glorified coat bag. Ugh.

“—takin’ this baby”-she slaps the gurney twice and you flinch-“back so I can get started on the autopsy, Moblit’s staying to take more pictures and collect forensics. If Eld’s stayin’ here with Mob, does that mean you’re catching a ride with me, Levi?” The question is addressed to Captain Grump on your right, who gives a heavy sigh and pushes off the counter.

“I guess so. I get to choose music though.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” she’s wagging a finger, grinning. “My body, my music!”

“How about my body, my music?” you suggest, following Levi. “I deserve it after the day I’ve had.”

Again, Levi twitches and swats aggressively by his ear, nearly hitting you full in the face this time.

“You hear that, Gin? This place got a mosquito problem or something?”

“I do not have a mosquito problem!” and “No, sir, I don’t hear anything.” overlap in the air.

Captain Levi only grunts, then starts spouting instructions, which Gin notes down. “I want footage from any cameras in the building, and from the shops next door and across the street. I want statements from residents both upstairs and downstairs. I want names, addresses, and numbers of next of kin on my desk by noon, and lastly, I want no one, save for myself, you, shitty glasses, and mousy-hair, in or out of this apartment. Are we clear?”

“Crystal clear, sir.”

“Good. I’m leaving you Braus to help and to show her the ropes of this kind of thing. Even though she’s on the case, she will not set foot in this apartment. I don’t trust her not to leave breadcrumbs in the bloodstains.

“Yes, sir.”

“I expect an in-person report before shift-change this evening. See you then.” Then, he’s sweeping out of the kitchen in pursuit of Hange and the gurney, leaving you to scurry after. As you exit your home, he shoots a young auburn-haired woman in a crisp white blouse and wool slacks a look. “Braus. You’re with Gin. Don’t go in the apartment.”

She straightens up from leaning against the wall with a jolt and brushes croissant crumbs off her front. “Yes, Captain Levi, sir!” It’s slightly muffled by the pastry stuffed into her mouth.

“Tch.”

It’s fascinating watching how Levi and Hange manage to navigate the gurney down the narrow, twisting stairs of your walk-up apartment building. They’re both clearly used to this sort of thing, communicating only in short phrases and grunts when they encounter an obstacle. Occasionally, you offer up a pointer and watch as Levi becomes increasingly irritated.

“Watch out for Mr. Laslow’s cat, he likes to sneak up on ya!”

“Hange, do you hear— shit!” Levi hops to the side, narrowly avoiding the tabby tail as Tubbins McGee whisks past.

“It’s only a cat, Levi, dunno what’s got you so worked up today,” Hange teases, grin echoing your own as you chortle from the landing above them.

Eventually, they spill out onto the sidewalk and into the bright mid-day, and Hange groans loudly, stretching with both hands on her back.

“Ugh. Remind me not to die in there, I’d hate to put someone else through that.”

“Boof, tell me about it,” you commiserate.

“Noted,” Levi snarks.

Hange removes jingling keys from her pocket and unlocks the ME’s van parked along the sidewalk with a beep, then opens the back doors and steps in. You follow, leaning against the cool metal siding to watch.

When they both load into the front seats and the engine turns over, you lean forward between them to listen in.

“So,” Hange starts, smoothly pulling out into the road behind a silver minivan. “I’ll be able to give you a more solid answer in a couple hours, but my initial estimated time of death would be around 5:45 this morning.”

Levi nods, staring out the passenger window while he answers. “That lines up with the neighbor’s story.”

“Theories so far?”

“Well, there’s the boyfriend,” he muses, lifting a hand to rub his chin.

“Too obvious,” you say dully, not bothering to amend the lack of “ex” yet again. “Next theory.”

He’s quiet for a moment, then mutter, almost too quietly for you to catch: “Too obvious, hmm? Next theory....”

You’re momentarily flabbergasted, hand falling through the faux-leather seat back in your shock. Can he actually hear you? You shake out your hand while it re-materializes, tuning in to the conversation as Hange’s responding.

“—a little far-fetched, don’t you think? I mean, has there been any of that activity in this area recently?”

“Mm, I’ll have to touch base with Petra. If there has been, I think it’s worth looking into.”

“What is? Wait, go back,” you frantically plead, leaning further into his airspace. But Hange plows on.

“Oh, it’s Petra, now, hmm? Not Raggedy Anne anymore?” Her tone is teasing, and she glances over to Levi for a reaction.

He doesn’t give her one, just stares out the window pensively before reaching for the radio dial. The stereo blares up into an Oldies station, and you make a disgusted face along with Levi.

“You listen to this shit?”

“Hey, my dead body, my music, sweetcheeks. Don’t like it, you can thumb it back to the PD.”

“How about my dead body, my music?” you suggest again, reaching for the dial at the same time as Levi does. Just as his slender fingers touch it, your hand passes through the whole front console and the oldies are replaced with a terrifyingly loud static screeching.

“Christ, Levi, what’d you do?” Hange shrieks, lunging forward to punch the radio off as you remove your hand.

“Nothing! It just went berserk!”

They bicker while you stare at your offending palm. “Huh. Didn’t know I could do that.”

If you can actually interact with objects, at least to some degree, and if it turns out Levi can hear you.... This whole thing might be easier than you thought.

#levi ackerman x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot fanfic #snk fanfic #aot x reader #snk x reader #captain levi x reader #female!reader #hange zoe #moblit berner #eld gin #sasha braus #through the mirror #valkyrie writes #tw:murder #tw:violence #tw:dead body #tw:blood

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blueunoia · 4 years

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❤ ──── ·․ under watchful eyes (pt. 3)

━━━ SYNOPSIS: the reader and arvin are forced to go to a pre-marriage counselling session with reverend teagardin.

━━━ WARNINGS: teenage marriage, allusion to sexual harassments.

━━━ NOTES: This one was little short, sorry! I’m gonna try and make part four longer. I don’t condone any of Arvin's action he clearly has severe anger issues at least and mentally ill as a result of his traumatic childhood at worst. Hope you enjoy!

━━━ WORD COUNT: 1,253

━━━ PART(S): part four

✦·․ ──── ❤ ──── ·․·✦·․·✦·․ ──── ❤ ──── ·․·✦·․·✦·․ ❤ ․·✦·․·✦·․· ──── ❤ ──── ·․·✦·․·✦·․ ──── ❤ ──── ․·✦

The room was filled with tension. You sat in your nicest clothes, shifting around in your seat. Arvin places his hand on your knee, and you can feel it's warmth through your tights; you stop turning and look over at him. Arvin had his shoulders pulled back and back straight. He looks uptight and uncomfortable. He never sat like that. His jaw was clenched, too, as his gaze went back to the man you were both waiting to speak.

Reverend Teagardin. He grabbed his cup of coffee and brought it to his lips before clearing his throat. "So," he began, "You two would like to get married? That would help things, I'm sure."

Arvin scoffs but bites his tongue. He doesn't want to be here, but your parents required it until they'd let him marry you. Arvin nods. "Yes, sir."

Reverend Teagardin looks over to you. "I suppose that would be nice. Of course, your families asked me to talk to you two before. Marriage is a big deal, you know, that's a lot of commitment for people so young."

"People are age get married all the time," you say, "and Arvin and I have been together for a while. We love each other too."

Teagardin nods. "Well, that is important. It's just sometimes you'll want to explore other people," his gaze was on you as he said it. You look away from him, and Arvin gives a glance to you. He didn't like how he said that.

"I don't want anyone else," Arvin says quickly. "Never will."

A small smile finds itself on your face but quickly fades away as the Reverend stares you both down. "Well, are there any concerns you two have about marriage?"

You and Arvin look at each other for a moment before he speaks up. "I mean, there's obviously money, but my Grandma is gonna let us live with 'er. We have a little hutch on our property, and I'm gonna fix it up to have our own space. And I have a job lined up in the summer, so we'll have our own money."

Reverend Teagardin nods, "That sounds like a good plan, Mr. Russell," the compliment sounds forced. "Y/N, do you have any plans after marriage? Do you two want children? I know many young couples like you often get married under specific circumstances, so maybe we'll see one soo-"

"Shut your mouth, you bastard!" Arvin lurched up at Reverend Teagardin. "Y/N ain't knocked up! We just love each other, that's all."

Reverend Teagardin stood up, "I'd watch yourself. If you hadn't pulled this little stunt, the two of you wouldn't even be seeing each other."

Arvin shook his head and went to round the table, but you grabbed his arm. "Both of you stop it!" you stand up and look at Reverend Teagardin. "Now, all three of us know we don't actually need your permission to get married. If we wanted to, we could go up to the courthouse and have it over within five minutes, so what's gonna happen is we're going to walk out, and you'll tell our parents you think this is a great idea. If you don't, I'll tell 'em about you watching Arvin and me that night. Understood?"

Reverend Teagardin gave you a stern look before shifting his gaze to Arvin. With a huff, he nods. You and Arvin leave, not stopping to talk to your parents. While you wait outside, Arvin grabs you and brings his lips to yours. "I don't think I've ever seen that side of you, sweetheart," he kisses you again. "I gotta say I like it."

You giggle. "Well, you better stay in line, mister, or you'll see her again!"

Arvin laughs with you and brings you back close to him. Holding you gently, he wasn't usually this affectionate. After he proposed, though, you could see a change. He seemed happier.

"Y/n! Come on, we have to get home!" you heard your mother yell from the other side of the parking lot.

You pull away from Arvin. "I love you," you tell him. "I'll see you at dinner." Arvin nods at you and quickly kisses your hand before letting you leave. His grandmother and Lenora came up to him, and they all went to the car. Arvin couldn't help but notice how Lenora kept looking at herself in the mirror. She had been acting different lately. Arvin saw her dressing nicer, putting more time into her hair, and she even borrowed a light lipstick from you.

It wasn't like Lenora to act like that. She didn't like makeup beforehand, and she had been spending less time at home with Arvin and Grandma. Maybe she had gotten a boyfriend, but Arvin swore she would've mentioned it to him.

As they rounded the corner, Arvin couldn't help but smile as he went inside. The two of you were getting married, and soon enough, you'd be living together. It was everything he wanted. In all honesty, it was the only thing he actually knew he wanted. You were the one thing he's so sure about. It was Saturday, so he didn't have to worry about school or anything like that, just get his chores down and head to work around twelve. His Grandma made him clean up a little, she wasn't the type to just make Lenora do it, but as he swept the floor, he heard something wrong.

Vomiting. Arvin pushed open the bathroom door to see Lenora on her knees in front of the toilet, her head laying on it as she moaned in pain. "Arvin," she said softly, her throat hurt too much to speak loudly, "Go get Grandma."

Arvin quickly found his grandmother bringing her back. Lenora assured her she just had an upset stomach, maybe even a stomach bug, and so she went off to bed. His grandmother made Lenora tea, and by the time he left and came home from work, Lenora was back in her room working at her homework.

"You feeling better?" Arvin asks.

"A little," she said. Lenora looks over at Arvin and gives him a small smile. "So, you happy to be engaged?"

Arvin smiled like an idiot and shuffled on his feet, embarrassed. "You know I am," he mumbled.

Lenora laughs. "Isn't it excited? I bet Y/N is excited to pick out her wedding dress. I can't wait to see it."

"Don't have to wait long. She's gonna take you when she tries them on, you know?"

Arvin hadn't seen Lenora smile so bright. "Really?" she asks excitedly.

"'Course! She'll probably make you 'er maid of honor too."

Lenora was ecstatic.

Though it didn't last too long because by the time you came by, she was throwing up her stomach again, but Arvin felt at peace for the moment. His sister seemed happier than ever, Grandmother was excited about the wedding too, and he was gonna spend the rest of his life with the woman of his dreams. Nothing could bring him down.

Then two months later came. Arvin held his wife's hand, both dressed in black as rain poured just as fast as his grandmother's tears. It wet the ground that his sister lay underneath. Unspoken and nonmoving. With one thing on his mind. It wasn't the same thing that plagued his mind two months ago. It wasn't a wedding, you, his sister, or his future. It was a prayer. A simple one at that. One that you shared.

A prayer for the right time.

I hope you enjoyed part three! It was a little short. I haven’t been feeling very motivated lately, just kind of in a funk. But it’s a new week and I’m gonna try and do more! Starting with writing part four and hopefully getting it out by the end of the week. I have a plan for when this series will end and I think it will be around five to six parts.

Don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment!

━━━ MASTERLIST

#arvin russel #arvin russell #arvin russell imagine #arvin russel imagine #arvin russell x reader #1960s #the devil all the time #tdatt

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jrueships · 3 years

Note

Any new thoughts on any of your ships you would like to share 👀

HII ok so i KNOW I got this ask from like. Forever ago and im SORRY but college has been up so ive been busy but DONT LET MY SLOWNESS DISCOURAGE U FROM ASKING ME ASKS AND STUFF !! I LOVE GETTIN THEM ILL JUST ANSWER SLOWLY CUZ I DONT WANNA HALF ASS NOTHIN AND THEN REGRET IT LATER

but anyways ... YES i DO !!!!!

okay so lowry and deebo rumored to both seek being on the lakers then BOOM russ girlbosses his stupid way inside 'somehow' (... bruh) so they go to other places. Is the two package deal still on??? No! And that's okay!

at first i was kinda disappointed they didn't try getting on the same team (the heat) because i wanted to see them play together again BUT!!! i think like... romantically this just goes to show how GOOD they've adjusted to being long-distanced BOYFRIENDS !!!

Like they're FINE with not being on the same team anymore/same state or whatever ! They've learned and communicated how to make long distance relationships WORK ! They trust each other and love each other no matter What !

Though demar DID want to stay in the country so he can make visit trips easier tho!!

But anyways ... the main thing IM thinking of is what the fuck the heat gonna get up to!!!! Their goofy goober filled team!!! I'm not a big carer for Tyler herro and Jimmy but like.. we can't ignore how Jimmy made sure to keep his emotional support cracker on the team OKAY?? but anyways ANYWAYS ... imagine Jimmy friendly teasing demar about deebo being states away from his bf. like JIMMY would send 'saucy' pics of him and kyle in swim suits on a beach somewhere idk and Jimmy has his arm around kyle and he's chad staring into the camera. kyle doesn't really care like he's just having fun and Jimmy ALWAYS takes stupid fuckboy selfies so he doesn't really see it as a big deal. All the more freedom for Jimmy to send demar all these photos of him and kyle having fun together WITHOUT demar, just as a teasing 'haha I got your boyfrieeend!! might kiss him 😳 who knows <3 !!' And those are literally some of the captions on the pics he sends privately to demar. he might post like One public pic of him and kyle hanging out real close just to see how many 12 year old kyle demar shippers he can make mad LMFAO

And when demar gets them, Jimmy expects him to be all like 'haha ok' and then go get high and watch house hunters all sad and shit secretly just to mess with his mind because Jimmy is a little big shit like that .... but he DOESN'T !!! because he trusts kyle COMPLETELY and he KNOWS how Jimmy loves to do dumb shit for attention and temper, so he just replies "hope bam doesn't find out about this." And that's all he needs to say to make Jimmy block him for two weeks

ALSO UMMM this is just me being a SAP but.... demar and kyle probably discussed where they'd go team wise on free agency and after talkin over that they both wanna go to separate teams, it's all cool. They agreed and they're cool with it and they can love each other from so far because their love is just THAT strong! they like skyping each other while they do random chores around their respective houses and sometimes spout out a random funny idea or joke.

But I ALSO think... because im STOOPID and WEEK .. that they also chose to be on different teams because they wanna 'secretly' see who can win each other a ring first. So they can PROPOSE with it. Like yeah kyle already has one but u KNOW his short ass keeps that shit to himself. He probably tries giving it to demar all the time but deebo is a king who don't need no pity ring!! But they're older now and sweeter and softer and they wanna find new ways to tease each other!! So yeah deebo probably went to the bulls thinking 'imma get this ring and give it to KYLE and PROPOSE to his fat ass' and kyle probably entered the heat huddle like 'yall we GOTTA get this ring so i can propose to my stupid boyfriend' IDK i just like to think of it as a fun race to love!!!

So yeah!!!! That's like! Some of em! A few!! When I can coherently think of some more, I might add a few reblogs, who knows !!! Thank u SM for asking and sorry for the late af answer LMFAO

#ted asks #this trade has just got me thinking of Them #kyle/demar #love demar #service knight :/#HUH #WHAT #i didnt say anything #jimmy #bam mention #also im thinking about keldon #and ant ed #hmmmmmm #might go insane #just might

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

From Eden: Two

Warnings: noncon sexual acts, mentions of mental illness; tags to be added throughout series

This is dark!Bucky. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The mc suffers from agoraphobia. After a new neighbour moves in across the street, her home becomes even more of a prison.

Note: Yo, so here’s part 2! I hope you all enjoy. As before, there is a transcript at the end for anyone having issues with the images.

Thank you so much for your patience! And support!!

As always, if you are so inclined, please like, reblog, and comment. <3

Transcript:

Sunday

I called Dr. Tisha this morning. I told her about the neighbour. She said it was nice of him to help with the garden but ignored me when I mentioned the broken gate. I don’t know if she believed me. It didn’t seem like it.

She’s coming by tomorrow to check on my progress. That means I can’t keep those magazines on the dining table anymore. The last time she made me throw half of them out. She didn’t listen when I told her some were so old they were priceless. Sometimes it feels like she doesn’t listen to me at all. Well, what do I pay her to do then?

I haven’t been back outside. I should water the garden as it’s only getting hotter but I don’t appreciate the unwanted audience. An intruder!

Later

I still haven’t found the courage to venture out. I made sure the bike lock was still in place from the front door. It is. Though, if that man’s metal hand could break the old lock, it will likely shred the chain lock.

Thinking about it makes my heart race. I should go lay down. I’m dizzy and the humidity is making me sick to my stomach. Or maybe it’s something else.

Monday

Dr. Tisha came by early today.

I showed Dr. Tisha where I kept my medicine in the bathroom cabinet, the pills divided into the days. I check off each day on the calendar so I don’t forget either. She said that was good. The last time she was here, it was because I’d stopped taking the pills so I hope this made her happy.

Then she walked through the house, she said she was happy to see the top of the table this time. I laughed but it wasn’t really funny. Then she went to the kitchen and checked all the drawers.

She found some books hidden under the sink and asked if I’d ever read them. I mean to but haven’t yet. She took them to the guest room where she found the bins of books stacked in the corner. Better than last time when they were a pile on the carpet.

She said I have too many things. Too many things that aren’t mine. She says it’s okay to be sad about grandma but that holding onto all her stuff won’t bring her back. Like I don’t know that! I do know! But she left me these things so yes, they are mine.

Then we went to grandma’s old room. It’s the same as it was. As it’s always been. Dr. Tisha frowned and went to my room next.

She asked me about the broken bed frame. I told her it was nothing. I made sure to replace the duvet I’d dragged out the couch to sleep without threat of rolling onto the floor in my sleep. Not that I sleep very much.

She opened my closet and found the magazines. That didn’t impress her either.

We had tea in the kitchen and talked. She asked me how I was feeling. About side effects and all that. Besides the occasional bout of nausea and vivid dreams, I’m fine. She agrees.

Then she asked about the tall shelf of vinyls in the living room. Which one is my favourite? I told her the old Vera Lynn record reminded me of grandma and it was still on the needle.

Then we argued. She wants me to get rid of the ones I don’t listen to. And the magazines in my closet! And she wants me to go through all the books, too.

She also suggested that I think about redecorating. I told her I didn’t want to do any of that. I like the house the way it is. Who is it hurting if I have a few extra books laying around?

She calmed me down after I raised my voice. She made me count my breaths and explained that I don’t have to get rid of everything, just a little. She says it would help with my progress. And, she said, I could probably make a healthy profit off a yard sale.

Well, I don’t care about the money, I don’t want to have a sale. I don’t want to deal with people and them thumbing through grandma’s thing for pennies.

Dr. Tisha said she’ll make some signs and we’ll have the sale on Saturday. My task for the week is to decide what to sell and prices. We argued again but not very long.

When she left, I started crying. Everywhere I look, I see grandma and this place is empty enough without her.

Tuesday

Lorena showed up today.

I gave her my list, it wasn’t very long. She asked about the bike lock and I asked if she could stop by the hardware store and get a new mechanism. She asked me if I even knew how to fix it. I said I’d figure it out.

I told her about Dr. Tisha’s idea for the yard sale. She said it was a great idea. I still don’t agree but she offered to help me sort through the guest room. I shrugged and asked her how long she’d be at the store. She said the usual and left.

I waited by the door. I watched the front gate for her return. She had the combination to the bike lock now and could let herself in. I just wanted her to come back and drop everything off so I could be alone.

When she did return, she wasn’t alone. I saw her at the gate, fumbling with the lock. As the gate shifted open, a metal arm reached past her to push it all the way. The man held a paper bag in his other arm as Lorena carried the other.

He was smiling as he spoke to her and let her pass. He followed her to the door and he saw me before I could back away from the slated window in the door.

“Open up,” Lorena called as she tapped the door.

I didn’t know what else to do but open the door. When I did she handed me her bag and reached for the one the man held.

“Sorry, but… I can’t let you inside.” She said glumly. “But thanks for the help.”

“No problem.” He glanced past her and I tried to hide behind her but he’s taller than her. He’s very big up close. “You have a great day. Both of you.”

“You, too.” Lorena said and he strode away.

When the gate clattered closed I waited until I was sure he was gone. I dropped my bag and rushed to check the lock. He’d secured it. Good.

I went back to the house and locked the door too. Lorena already had both bags on the table.

“He didn’t mean any harm,” She said as she unpacked the groceries. “He was just helping me so I figured--”

“You shouldn’t have let him in.” I told her.

“He was only in the yard. He didn’t come into the house.”

“I could have helped you.” I said.

“When’s the last time you went past the gate?” She asked as she pulled out a small plastic bag and slid it across to me. It was the new lock. “That should fit, if you can figure it out.”

“That’s not the point, Lor,” You slapped the table. “You let him into my space. A stranger!”

“He’s your neighbour. I’ve talked to Dr. Tisha and you know you’re supposed to be working on your socialising. This yard sale will be a good first step.”

“This yard sale is bull shit,” I was so angry I could have yelled. “I like being alone. I like it here. This is my home and these are my things!”

“Calm down.” She set down the carton of milk and neared me. “Look, I’m sorry. You’re right. I should’ve asked before I let him past the gate.”

I felt so tired. Suddenly weak, like the air had been let out of me. I felt bad for being so mad with her after she went all the way to town for me.

“I’m sorry I got upset.”

She forgave me and I forgave her. She convinced me to fill one bin for the sale before the end of the day. She left shortly after. Her and Shelby are going to see a movie. I’m watching one too. An old black and white movie Grandma had on her shelf of cassettes. It’s interesting but the edges are fuzzy and the audio is muffled.

Oh, well, I’m tired. And I’ll be sleeping on the couch anyway.

Wednesday

I tried to fix the lock today. I haven’t been outside that long since last week. The garden needs to be watered.

I took out grandma’s old toolbox, the tools half-rusted but intact. I got what was left of the old lock off easily but the new one was more of a task to get in. I had to open the gate to get it in. The holes for the screw were off-kilter but I couldn’t turn the lock enough to get them to line up.

Then he showed up. That man. Bucky. The lock slipped out as he scared me and my screw driver hit my shoe. My toe still hurts.

“You need some help?” He asked.

I shook my head and tried to close the gate on him but he was already picking up the mechanism and screwdriver.

“I can do it.” I sound like a dying mouse. I reached for the lock but he didn’t even seem to notice. “Hold the door steady and I’ll just--”

“I can do it myself,” I said louder but he still didn’t seem to hear me. Or chose not to.

He reached around the gate and pulled it closer to him. I grabbed the bars and he slid the lock into place. His metal fingers shifted it and aligned the holes.

“Do you have the screws?” He asked.

I found the box on the bunch of rocks just beside the gate. I handed him each long screw and he easily twisted them into place.

“There ya go,” He gave the screwdriver back and smiled.

I closed the gate, as good as pushing him out of the yard. He let me but looked confused. I took the key from the box and slid it in the slot. I turned it and the click slowed my racing heart.

“I still don’t know your name,” He said.

I didn’t tell him and left him there. You think he’d get the clue.

Thursday

It’s not even 5am. I woke up in a sweat. The fan is dead and the house has grown stolid, even as the night air slips through the open window.

I thought I’d closed it more but it is wide open and the power is out. There is an eerie silence as the buzz of the fridge is entirely gone and the house is pitch black.

I swear I saw something move in the window. Maybe a bird?

I tried to get back to sleep but it’s too hot. I guess I’ll just sit and wait for the sun to rise. It’s already starting to.

I want to go out in the garden today. I just hope that man doesn’t bother me again. I hope the lock is still in place.

Friday

Well, yesterday was fine. The power came back on at noon as I watered the garden and trimmed some overgrown plants. The freesias had grown despite my neglect.

Today was just as boring. I read at the patio table for a while but then the phone started ringing. Dr. Tisha was checking in. She said she put the signs up yesterday and hoped the turn out would be good. She asked me how much I got done. I lied and said a lot.

Now I’m going to go sort through the guest room and toss a few records on top to get her off my back. I guess I’ll just have to hide under the table tomorrow.

Saturday

Everytime I think I’m doing better, it all goes so bad!

Dr. Tisha and Lorena arrived early to set up the yard sale. They unfolded a table just inside the gate, leaving it wide open, and helped me arrange everything on top of it. I was nervous and tired. I didn’t sleep very much.

I waited nervously and the first customer showed up. Gladys, an old friend of Grandma’s. She bought an old pin cushion and the Miles Davis record. I should have kept that.

I watched mostly as Dr. Tisha and Lorena took the money and helped people, both familiar and not.

Dr. Tisha made me introduce myself to them at least. I hated it but they were mostly friendly. A woman with two children, I think she said her name was Essie? She said she liked my shirt. That was nice.

But then he showed up! I ignored him at first as he played with the ornamental cowbell. He took that and a few records from the table. He didn’t even seem to notice Dr. Tisha or Lorena as he came to me.

I kept my head down as I lined up the thimbles beside the painted sewing box.

“How much for the records?” He asked.

I didn’t say anything and went to the other end of the table. He followed and I turned back and went back to the other end again. He followed me. Again.

“Now,” Tisha stopped me. “What are you doing? He asked you a question.”

I looked up and blinked dumbly. “What? I didn’t-- I was--”

“Bucky,” Lorena greeted him as she neared. “Tisha, this is the neighbour who helped with the groceries the other day.”

“Oh, hello,” She held out her hand as she blocked me from getting away. “I’m Tisha.”

She introduced me then and told me like a child to say hello. I did, quietly.

“Are you… the one who gave her the flowers?” Tisha asked.

“I did.” He smiled. “But I guess she already has enough.”

“She’s shy,” Tisha lowered her voice. “She’s working on it. Now,” she turned to me, “how much do you want for the records… and bell?”

I didn’t know what to say. The man watched me and I felt as if I would melt.

“Come on.” Tisha poked me. “We talked about this, right? This is your sale.”

“Ten dollars each,” I doubled the price. “And twenty for the bell.”

“That’s a bit pricey,” Lorena said. I shrugged.

“Sounds fair to me,” The man took out his wallet as he leaned the record on the table beneath the bell and used his leg to keep it from falling. “I’ve never listened to these bands before and I’m trying to expand my library.”

He held out the money. Tisha had to elbow me to get me to take it. I snatched it from him and counted it. Another elbow as Lorena kept me from turning away.

“Thank you,” I said to him.

“I hope you enjoy the records,” Tisha offered gently before she pulled me aside.

She took me closer to the house as Lorena watched the table. She lowered her voice. “What’s going on?” She asked.

“Nothing.” I lied.

“Nothing? Why were you so rude to him?”

“I don’t like him.”

“You don’t know him.” She insisted.

“I don’t want to.”

“Look, I know you’re uneasy around men, but he was nice. And he’s your neighbour. You’ll be seeing a lot of him so I think you should at least try to be friendly. And remember what I said about friends?”

“My only friend is dead.”

I was so upset I ran inside. And now I’m locked in my room, waiting for them all to just go away.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #from eden #agoraphobia #mcu #marvel

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nevermindirah · 4 years

Note

I am but a sad little trans man who absolutely wants to know your thoughts on immortals capabilities to transition because I have thoughts and they make my depressed little trans heart hurt because how in the world could they transition if their bodies heal everything?

Hi! Sending you hugs because I've been struggling with the exact same thoughts! I wrote this lil meta last month but I don't like it and my brain keeps interrupting things like my job and trips to the grocery store to get me working on this puzzle.

From what we see in the movie, our elderly friends have regular-human healing, just faster and MORE, plus magic. We have canon evidence of how this works with wounds/injuries and can infer from there about how their immortality would handle infections, genetic/physiological/autoimmune/etc disorders, malnutrition/dehydration/etc, mental illnesses, and dental stuff, as well as things that bodies do that aren't necessarily bad but often need medical care — like pregnancy and gender transition. (I’m not a medical professional, just a nerd who loves a good Wikipedia rabbithole.)

Let's start with an easy one. Nile's hand healing after she stuck it in the fire is just a lickety-split version of what would happen to a regular human with a small skin wound: clotting, inflammation, rebuilding, healed.

When Nile yeets herself and pharma bro out the window of the topmost tower, we see the same thing happen again but bigger, plus we see several of her bones pop themselves back into place, and presumably any blood vessels that got torn up magically correct themselves under her skin. Humans have been surviving injuries like major bone fractures for a very long time but a bone that heals without medical intervention to realign the fractured pieces might heal at a new angle, meaning it doesn't work as well anymore, and it might cause damage to surrounding organs/tissues and leave a lot of scar tissue or a chronic wound. But Nile only needs Booker and Nicky keeping her upright for barely a minute and then she's walking around on her own just fine.

A large wound that breaks deeply through the skin, like Nile's sliced throat or Booker's exploded abdomen, can be survivable for a regular human if it doesn't irreparably damage critical organs and if you can get medical attention before you bleed out, but even with modern medical intervention the results are rough. Jay and Dizzy aren't wrong for being deeply weirded out by Nile's flawless neck: even with the best plastic surgeons in the world on the case, closing up a wound like that will leave scar tissue that affects both appearance and function.

So, we've got immortality magic moving bones back into place, restarting stopped hearts and lungs and brains, rebuilding major structures like arteries and intestines, healing up wounds without scar tissue, pushing out bullets, and otherwise handwaving the big stuff. But it's not a magic wand, it’s a process, and bigger wounds take longer. It's like these people's mitochondria have little gnomes in there with schematics to rebuild their bodies to factory default.

From how these bodies handle wounds we can infer that they'd handle pathogens / infectious diseases the same way: inflammation, white blood cells attack, byebye plague see you never. And if these bodies are resetting bones and rebuilding organs, they're probably also correcting genetic disorders and shifting around physiological problems like bone spurs. So let's keep on inferring.

What if, instead of every death erasing hormone replacement therapy and gender-affirming surgery and leaving a trans immortal detransitioned over and fucking over again, what if the magic that governs immortality considers dysphoria-causing body parts just like any other wound to heal?

What if Booker is a trans man, and he's got that sweet muscle mass and that height and that beard that comes all the way up his cheeks because he's been on the wonder drug that is testosterone for over 200 years? What if immortality was all "we see you've been hung from the neck until dead, and your eyes have been pecked out, and also you have all these hormones that turn your body into a shape that makes you miserable — we're gonna fix all that" and then regenerated his pecked-out eyeballs and unsnapped his neck and undid the results of months of insufficient food AND ALSO started pumping him with the fantasy version of HRT so his chest started to reduce and his fat redistributed itself and his beard started coming in?

Who's to say that's not how it works?

All my dysphoria is social — I'm fine with my body for the most part and I CANNOT STAND when people assume things about my gender, because of my body or for any other reason. We see pretty clearly with Booker that mental illness isn't magically healed the way physical injuries are, and I think that's because the causes of mental illness are a combination of physiology/chemistry stuff and things like our beliefs about ourselves and the world, our experiences of trauma, and our experiences of getting our needs met or not. If I were immortal I could maybe break up with my SSRI, but it wouldn't stop me from getting misgendered — I'd still have to find a way to cope with the ongoing trauma of that. Having to navigate hundreds of cultures' ideas about gender when my gender is "uhhhhh" sounds like absolute hell for me, no thank you, do not want.

But for my fellow trans people whose dysphoria is primarily body-related, and for my social-dysphoria pals whose gender is something nearly every human being would recognize and all they need is to pass, how about let's make an executive decision that immortality includes HRT for anybody who needs it, with no psych eval or begging your insurance company or poking yourself with needles, and just like with wound healing it's like regular HRT but faster and more. HRT so powerful and so magical that it gives you the best possible version of the results you want and none of the results you don't. If I had the option to go on HRT for just like one or two changes but not the whole battery of things I would fucking do that, and if I were to join our elderly friends, maybe I could.

This might be easier on transmasc immortals than transfeminine ones, because testosterone's effects are basically impossible to reverse. But also you can't just keep waking back up after repeatedly drowning for 500 years, so fuck it. We're making an executive decision here.

Estrogen that grows your breasts and softens your dick but doesn't lessen your ability to orgasm. Immortality magic that makes your beard go away and maybe shrinks your height an inch or two or six. Maybe Quynh is trans and one time a few thousand years ago she got injured in battle worse than Booker's grenaded belly and she woke up an hour later with a vulva and a uterus and now her body is just like that. Factory reset.

I subscribe to the "God made wheat and grapes but not bread and wine so humans could share in the act of creation" model of transness and I personally feel very weird about the idea of immortality magically giving a trans immortal cisnormative genitals the same way it resets bones. There's no one right way to have a pussy or a dick, you know? Maybe Quynh woke up from a catastrophic gut wound in like 800 BCE with a constructed vagina rivaling the best our modern money can buy, without a uterus but with a clit that's just as magical as anybody else's.

I've been thinking about writing a Book of Nile fic with trans man Booker, which is why the two of them are most of my examples here. It would include porn, because apparently I can't write more than 1500 words about them without writing porn, so I need to think more about what's going to feel good for me and other trans people who might read it and won't accidentally facilitate cis people objectifying us. Like, I've thought in a lot of detail about what a clit enlarged by that many centuries of testosterone might look and feel like, and that specific experience is not mine so I'm treading carefully.

Cis people are welcome to reblog this! Fellow trans folks are welcome to join me in the act of creation on this post ;)

#trans things #fandom friends #tog meta #tog #book of nile #fic ideas #transphobia #dysphoria #gore #long post #mine

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kyber-queen · 4 years

Text

Like Real People Do (Rex x Reader) Pt. 3

Summary: Jedi!reader and Rex fall in love but are separated by the war. They meet again two years later, weeks before the Siege of Mandalore. In this chapter, Rex and Reader are prepping for a mission on an outer rim planet. Some fluff, slight angst, Rex gets to use a lightsaber because I say so. Italics signify a flashback in this fic.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Mentions of children/family planning ??, insecure Rex, k*sses, mentions of blasters n violence against droids, mentions of alcohol

Author’s Note: I’m not gonna lie this is probably my favorite chapter yet. It’s a little longer, but I think it’s worth it :) Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated!!

Previous | Next

****************************************

After your less than satisfying encounter in the maintenance closet, you had made an early retirement to your quarters to sulk. You slept, but your dreams were ridden with visions of a certain bleach-blond captain. You awoke the next morning ill-rested and heartsick.

You showed up late to your first tactical meeting with the upper ranks of the 501st in a disgruntled mess of dark undereyes and wrinkled robes. If Rex noticed your sleep-deprived state, he made no mention of it. You had positioned yourself strategically in the back of the room, precisely so if you peeked between the admirals, you could clearly see Rex discussing troop formations with General Skywalker. His structured brow was furrowed, and you noted the way he gestured at the maps as he made his point. He was so much more confident now, so much more self-assured than that often-anxious shiny you remembered from training drills two years ago. Maybe that was why he gave you the cold shoulder yesterday—had he outgrown you? Two years was a long time, especially during a war. Did he find someone new? Your heart burned at the thought. You hadn’t even tried to move on—at times, at your lowest points, you considered it, but you never gave up on him. You had broken your code for him. You had broken it every day since you met him, and yet here he was, the picture of cordial indifference. You were attached, deeply and painfully. Did he still care about you?

“Commander, I can hear your gears turning—any input?” Skywalker looked at you expectantly.

You eased your tired features into a placating smile. “Looks good to me, General,”.

“Perfect. Rex, you’ll go with the commander. I want you two waiting just outside the village. The Separatists should arrive within around two hours of landing. Comm me when you see the Separatist forces coming, and you guys cut down as many of the first wave as possible. I’ll circle around with the rest of the 501st and we’ll finish off the rest from behind. All clear?”

You nod in assent as Rex answers with a decisive, “Yes, sir,”.

***

Rex was going to have to have a conversation with his general after this. Your very first mission with the 501st, and Skywalker had paired you with Rex on a glorified stakeout of all things. Rex was pissed. He had decided as soon as he found out you would be consulting with the 501st that he would keep his distance. He knew it wasn’t your fault that you hadn’t seen each other in years—war makes love near impossible. He was more upset with himself for falling for a Jedi. It was against the law for either of you to have an attachment to each other. Rex had fallen in love, and it was a stupid, shitty idea. He had spent the better part of two years trying to bury his memories of you, and just as he was beginning to succeed, here you were creeping back into his mind. Just the sight of you threw him back to two years ago—back when he was really, truly happy. Rex was built for war, nothing more. The problem with you was that being with you made him think otherwise. When you were together, you would always talk about ‘after the war’. Rex knew that as a clone, there really wouldn’t be an after. You, with your altruism and soft smiles and gentle touches were everything Rex didn’t need.

Rex walked to the pod that would take the pair of you to the Separatist-threatened planet. You were already seated. You thumbed the grip of your lightsaber, and Rex recognized the gesture—it was a habit whenever you were nervous. His eyes were locked on you, debating whether or not he should say something despite his earlier promise to not get involved. You broke the silence for him.

“I can feel you staring, Rex. Talk to me,”.

You could always tell what he was thinking. As your friendship first blossomed, it unnerved him, but as your paths intertwined more and more he found it a comfort to have you understand him so well without him even saying a word. Rex met your eyes, and his stomach clenched. You were still so beautiful. He looked away

“Just thinking about the campaign, sir,”.

Your heart ached. Every bone in your body was screaming, ‘I love you, I love you, I love you,” and yet he called you sir. He addressed you as a superior, another link in the chain of command. He really had moved on, hadn’t he? You bit your lip, the sharp pain of your teeth against the tender skin attempting to draw your attention away from your torturous thoughts. You had a mission to complete. You peeked out the porthole, and you saw the terrain approaching far faster than normal.

You landed with a crash. You were jostled from your seat, your head smacking the metal wall painfully. As the ringing in your skull crescendoed, you took stock of your darkened surroundings through your blurred vision. The lighting in the pod must have been damaged during your landing. You ignited your lightsaber, illuminating Rex with its soft glow. He stood up and rolled his shoulder experimentally, his nose scrunching in pain.

Your brows furrowed, “Are you alright?’

“I’m fine,” He grunted. He felt his way along the walls. “Exit’s been jammed shut, though,”

You searched his eyes in the dim lighting, another pang of longing reverberating through your chest. You dismissed the sensation and plunged your lightsaber into the wall of the pod, freeing yourselves. You emerged from the battered pod, your head pounding as your eyes adjusted. It was bright, with the triad suns beating down on you relentlessly. You checked your positioning system—you had landed a mere 15-minute walk from your stakeout site. You watched as Rex eased himself out of the pod. He groaned, his hand cradling his right arm. You handed him his positioning chip, and the two of you set off towards the village outskirts.

You noticed his hand lingered on his right shoulder, and he would grimace from time to time when it jostled. You reached your hand out to his plastoid-covered shoulder. “Rex, let me—”

“I’m fine,”.

His tone was sharp and dangerous, affecting you like a slap to the face. You sucked in a breath, and walked the rest of the path in silence. The planet was beautiful—you were surrounded on all sides by strange golden grasses that swayed with the breeze. Its beauty did nothing to distract you from the man by your side.

You arrived at the meeting point and immediately settled yourself against the large boulder meant as your cover. Rex sat across from you, leaning against a smaller rock. He tilted his head back, closing his eyes for a moment and swallowing thickly. You traced the sharp line of his jaw with your eyes, following down to the thick cords of muscle in his neck. You contemplated another attempt at offering him some bacta spray, but considering his earlier response, decided against it. When did Skywalker say the Separatists would arrive? Two hours?

You spent around an hour in silence. You meditated, as General Secura had taught you. Time moved thickly around you, your aura burning bright as it cut through the hours and seconds. With your deep focus came little flashes of memories.

You saw Rex, smiling. His golden skin was warm against the soft sheets. His thumb traced the apple of your cheek. You grinned.

“What do you want to do, Rex? After this is all over?”

He paused, his hand resting heavy on your jaw. “I don’t know, cyare. Guess I never really thought about it,”. His eyes flicked over your gentle smile and bright eyes. “I’d wanna be with you, though,” he whispered. You’re everything he could ever want. He’d never loved anything so much, and he knew he’d never love anyone else the way he loved you. What the hell did he do to deserve you? “What about you?”

“My parents—I barely remember them now—had a house on Naboo. We could live there, just us. No war, no fighting. It’s so beautiful there, Rex. The grass is long and tall—as a child, I’d play outside for hours just soaking up the sunlight. It’s a good place for raising children,”. Your face heated as you said the last part.

“Raising children, eh?” Rex tilted your chin, and you lifted your gaze to his eyes. You nodded slowly. “With me?” His eyes shone in the morning sunlight, his brow furrowed.

“Yes, Rex. Who else?” Rex’s expression eased, and you pressed your lips to each of his cheeks, followed by a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose. Rex sighed contentedly. He had no clue why you were with a shiny like him—he was one of a million genetically and physically identical men. He was sure that eventually you’d realize just how much better you could do than a clone, but until that day he’d savor every precious moment with you.

“You’re gonna be a great parent, one day, cyar’ika,”.

“You will, too, Rex,”.

You jolted out of your trance. It was just your luck that Rex had infiltrated the one escape you had from your relentless thoughts of him. You opened your eyes to find him studying your face. He averted his gaze quickly.

“Rex,” you called.

He fiddled with the straps of his armor.

“Rex,”.

He dropped his hands to his sides with a harsh sigh. “Would you just stop it?”

You were stunned. “Rex, I—”

“I spent two fucking years trying to forget I ever loved you. I was nothing, I was nobody, and you were this—this ideal being. I had no fucking clue why you gave me the time of day, but I let myself fall for you anyway. When we left for our tours, I broke. You were the first real thing, the first good thing I ever had, and you were gone. I was sure I was gonna die over there—and you wouldn’t have even known if I had. It was so much easier to believe that you had moved on, that you were through with me. Now you’re here and you’re alive and I—” his voice broke, “I don’t know what to do,”. He met your gaze, and his eyes glistened. His voice was barely a whisper, “You were always the rational one. Please tell me what to do,”.

Your wide eyes watered. You turned your head to the golden fields and let out a tiny sob. What the hell do you answer to that? Just as you opened your mouth to speak, you spotted what seemed to be a thousand metal heads just over a rolling hill. The separatists. You hastily wiped your eyes and took a deep breath. This would have to wait.

“The Separatists are here,” your voice wavered more than you would have liked. “I’ll comm the General,”. You sniffed, rubbing your eyes again. Get it together, you thought. You were a Jedi Master, for gods’ sake. Ever since returning to Coruscant, you’d been an emotional trainwreck. You were starting to see why the council discouraged attachments.

You allowed Rex a moment to collect himself, turning to face the oncoming droids as the two of you prepared in silence. The metallic clang of their footsteps grew louder and louder. Rex slipped his helmet back on over his head and unholstered his blasters.

“It’s your call, Commander. When d’ya wanna go?”

You looked back over your shoulder at him, and you were instantly thrown back to the hours of training exercises you had completed together. You grinned.

“Think you can take down the battle tank over there?” You motioned to the gargantuan hunk of steel situated right in the middle of a sea of battle droids.

The competitive edge you had so dearly missed was back in Rex’s voice.

“You know I never miss,”.

“Race you there,”. And with that, you were off. The two of you flew down the hill, cutting down the droids as if they were made of straw. You swung, decapitating a droid and ducking as Rex put a blaster hole through the one taking aim at you from behind. You worked well together, always did. The rest of the 501st seemed to be making easy work of the droids from behind.

“Rex, blaster!”

Rex tossed one of his blasters into the air, and you force-pulled it into your grasp in an instant. You fired off three quick shots at one of the tanks, damaging the traction treads. Rex looked over at the tank, and recognized the maneuver you had initiated in an instant. He took off for the tank, and called your name once he was just yards from its base.

“Saber!”

You switched off your saber and hurled it in Rex’s direction. He had barreled past at least ten lines of troops, snatching your lightsaber from the air before igniting it and plunging it into the battle tank’s generator while simultaneously firing off a few rapid shots at the droids. The droids’ main attention, as planned, was on you, and you were beginning to feel the heat. You force-pulled your lightsaber, still ignited, from Rex’s grasp and into a line of battle droids before its heavy weight met your palm again.

“Blaster!”

You tossed Rex his blaster, and he caught it with ease. With your lightsaber in hand, you began cutting a path to Rex, who had holed up against the decommissioned tank.

“Need to get me one of those,” Rex motioned to your lightsaber with a grin.

You shook your head with a laugh, deflecting a blaster shot as Rex took aim at the next line of droids.

It was your fault. You got distracted. Something about the focus in Rex’s masked stare as he picked off the droids one-by-one pulled your attention away just long enough for one of the droids to press the cool metal of its blaster against your neck. Before you could react, Rex fired two quick shots into its head.

“Told you, cyare, I never miss,”.

You missed this. The nicknames, the banter, working together like this. It felt good. It felt like coming home. You snuck one last glance at Rex before sprinting out from your cover to cut down the next row of droids.

Rex was fucked. Did you realize he called you cyare? It just slipped out—something about being here with you, fighting next to you—it brought him back to two years ago. He shook his head, firing at a droid that had pointed its blaster at you. He was done with pretending he didn’t care. He still had no idea what to do, or where this would go, but he could figure that out later.

You finished off the last droid, looking back at Rex with an easy smile before waving to General Skywalker. Rex jogged over to you, pulling you back behind the tank and away from the prying eyes of the rest of the 501st.

“Rex, wha—”

He ripped off his helmet, letting it fall to the ground as he pulled you into a kiss. His hand fell to the small of your back, and you practically collapsed into him. His lips were hungry against yours—he was all tongue and teeth and desperation. He needed this. You needed this. You raked your nails through his close-cropped hair, drawing a little groan from deep in his chest. His hands were everywhere—your hair, your neck, your waist—

“Rex, where are you? Are you injured?”

For the second time today, Rex was going to kill his general. He pulled away from you reluctantly, his hand lingering on your waist. You take his hand, and press your lips to his palm.

“We should go,”. Rex nods. “Meet me in my quarters tonight—you still like firewhiskey?”

“Rex—are you over here?”

You meet Rex’s eyes, and he smiles. A real smile. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“See you tonight,”.

********************************************

Like Real People Do Taglist: @pinkiemme @callme-eds @dinpoe

#captain rex #captain rex x y/n #ct 7567 #commander rex #rex x you #the clones #the 501st #rex x reader #captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #the clone wars

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antihero-writings · 3 years

Text

The Boy with the Unspeakable Name (Ch11)

Fandom: Harry Potter (and the Chamber or Secrets)

Fic Summary: Tom Riddle may have won his battle with Harry in the Chamber of Secrets, but there were a few unforeseen consequences; loss of Tom’s memory being the most obnoxious of them. Is it possible to stop Tom’s past from becoming his future? Or is the young Tom Riddle doomed to repeat his mistakes?

Notes: Alright everyone I'M BACK ...And I'm so so SO sorry that I took so long to update. Over the past few months I took my first real break from posting fanfiction overall in a long time.

Before I posted this chapter, I actually ended up heavily editing some of the previous chapters, which I'd like to inform those who read the originals about first. (Currently only the Ao3 version, and the reblog version of this fic with the picture on top are up-to-date.)

* I made Tom overall more polite. I was of the belief that his politeness was not an innate trait, and without memory, he would be a bit more unpleasant, and then we could see him grow with time. I do still believe it's not an innate personality trait, but a couple things made me realize he really should act differently in my fic. * I made Snape treat Tom better in the interrogation chapter. Both at the beginning and end. I liked the ending with the Levicorpus spell, and I do kinda miss it, especially because it informed Harry's reactions, but I think it was just too mean, especially because of something I'm going for later. * I added a conversation with the other boy in the hospital wing. (By the way, if you go back to read that and can think of more things they should talk about, don't hesitate to let me know!)

...I think those are all the big things! Feel free to offer feedback on the changes if you read them!

I'm so sorry to everyone who was hoping for faster updates. I truly do appreciate your comments and support deeply, and hope that you will continue to read and still enjoy it. I would still love to hear what you think!! <3 <3

Chapter 11: The House of Books

“The summer? With you? And Harry Potter?”

Tom had been examining the objects Snape had brought him—objects which had apparently once belonged to him—and blinked, raising his head to look at him.

“Believe me, I am not thrilled about it either.”

“No, it’s not that—well, it is—it’s just…” He paused, running his fingers along the clothes laid out on the bed before him, then squinted up at Snape. “I’m trying to discern why this is a good idea.”

Snape looked away, seemingly wondering that himself.

“I think, with time, you’ll find that our headmaster has a very unique sense of what is good for others. He believes uncomfortable situations often serve for people’s betterment.” He looked off to the side and muttered, “Whether or not they agree.”

“What sort of ‘betterment’ does this serve?”

“I suppose he would like the three of us to…”—He exhaled—“get along.”

Tom raised an eyebrow a second time, as if to say Us? Really?

“Futile though it may be,” Snape added.

Tom bit his lip, internally assessing the situation as he also returned to assessing the objects.

It wasn’t ideal—that didn’t need stating. Tom had a difficult time fathoming why Dumbledore—who seemed to bear him no ill-will—would want him to live with one person who had a rather insurmountable grudge against him, and another who didn’t seem to like him much better. He wanted them to ‘get along?’ `Surely that couldn’t be it. There had to be more to it.

Was Dumbledore really so naive as to think they’d grow closer instead of hate each other more? Not that he quite understood why they hated each other in the first place.

“Is there a reason I can’t stay here over the summer? I wouldn’t mind.”

Clearly Snape would have preferred that as well.

“You no doubt heard at the Feast that there has been some question as to whether Hogwarts is entirely safe. The Board of Governors likely wouldn’t approve of a student staying over the summer until they are able to deny these suspicions. Also, the headmaster wants you to learn magic over the summer, and due to few teachers possessing a proclivity to stay at Hogwarts during this time, we must make other arrangements.”

Tom’s breath bated at the reveal that he’d be learning magic, his mind beginning to buzz. He tried not to let his excitement leak into his voice:

“You’ll be teaching me magic?”

“Do keep up.”

“So…” He sat back. “What’s Harry going to do?”

“Mister Potter will be…taking up space as usual, I presume.”

Tom stifled a laugh; he hadn’t been expecting such a response from a professor.

“You don’t like Harry, do you?”

“I’m not…particularly fond of him.”

“Is it too forward of me to say it doesn’t appear you’re particularly fond of me either?”

“I pains me to say you’ll have adequate time to learn there aren’t a great many things I feel an extensive amount of fondness for.”

Tom could already see it now.

“Consider it a trial period, of sorts.” Snape swept around the room as he altered the direction of conversation. “If you are able to succeed over the summer, you may continue your schooling at Hogwarts when the next year begins. How much you learn, and how quickly, will determine the year in which you are placed. That is, if you’re placed in any year at all.” He looked down his hooked nose at him like that was both the most likely option, and the most preferable.

Tom could tell hidden behind his words was the idea that this ‘trial period’ was about more than just how adept he was at magic. He’d didn’t need telling that he’d have to be careful in more ways than magical.

“Do you have any other business to attend to before we leave?”

“Wait, we’re leaving now?”

“I don’t come to the hospital wing for pleasant chats if that’s what you’re asking.”

Tom bit his lip. In all honesty he would have liked to stay and explore the school more, but he could tell Snape wasn’t the kind of person one could negotiate such things with.

He turned back to the items that were supposed to be his.

“Is this really all I have?” He asked softly.

Sure all the essentials were there: clothes, books, toiletries and the like, but nothing more personal. No pictures for his nightstand, or even a keepsake to remind him of home, of family. Nothing that could tell him a little more about himself.

Snape paused a moment before he replied: “All of which I’m aware.”

Tom didn’t say anything. Merely put everything back in the trunk and followed Snape to the door.

“Don’t you have anything to bring home with you?” Tom asked.

“Don’t you think a skilled wizard such as myself would have methods of sending it to its proper location?”

They spent the walk across the grounds in silence, which could probably be considered steely, though Tom didn’t mind. The grounds around Hogwarts, and what little he saw of the castle, were altogether beautiful, and empty conversation would only have dulled his enjoyment. He turned around, walking backwards, a smile creeping upon his face upon at the sight of the castle in its full glory. He came to find this wasn’t a school, this was a palace, a haven.

A—

The word home rose to the surface of his chest.

It occurred to him this was the first time he’d smiled since he lost his memory. Really and truly smiled.

The feeling wasn’t half bad.

Snape raised an eyebrow. “You like it?”

Tom cleared his throat. “It’s nice I guess.” But he couldn’t stuff the smile down, couldn’t quite figure out what this feeling was.

He must be a student, surely. Otherwise, why would he feel such fondness for the place?

He didn’t think Snape would reply, and was surprised to hear, barely audible, “I always thought as much.”

They arrived at a wrought iron gate with winged boars on either side—(really living up to the name, Tom supposed. All they needed was a decent amount of warts on them). Once they had passed through it, Snape stopped abruptly and held out his arm. It seemed he was expecting Tom to take it.

Tom wasn’t quite sure why he ought to do this, (and was rather offput by the thought of touching this man). Still, he did as he was told and—

He felt like he was being pigeonholed through a pipe. When the journey ended he was in an entirely new location, and wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t feel sick.

"Apparating for the first time can often make one feel unwell,” Snape informed the doubled-over Tom in a way that didn’t signify he really cared.

As Tom regained his bearings, he thought for a moment, in the same way he quite liked the walk along the grounds, he probably would have rather enjoyed traveling across the countryside. It struck him, that, while this sort of travel certainly got the job done, if wizards had a type of travel more like flying; allowing one to see the view, but also get where they needed to go quickly, he would like to learn it.

The new location, however, was far drearier and less pleasing to the eyes. Rather than an enchanting (and probably enchanted) forest, bordering sunny grounds, and a castle whose majesty was unmatched (at least in his current memory), this was a grimy, cobbled street, like a dull pencil: grey, disappointing, and without its sharpness.

He was almost certain the place was non-magical in nature. He couldn’t believe anyone magical would allow their cities to collect this much grime and…boringness. Identical brick townhouses lined those streets, their chimneys spewing smoke into the air, causing a low cloud of what could be either smog or fog to hang over the place, making the air warmer and more humid than necessary. Snape’s house was the last in the row, (at least, he assumed it was Snape’s as it was the one they were heading towards), and across from it he could see a black river winding through the mist.

Snape flicked his wand, unlocking what was presumably his front door.

Often houses have a certain, indefinable smell to them, but when Tom stepped inside this one, he found it wasn’t so indefinable: parchment, and old shoes, and maybe a little bit of neglect.

He could have fooled himself into thinking he’d walked into a bookstore. The walls were lined with books, the sofa and armchair in the corner creating a false sense of coziness—(‘false’ because nothing about this man said ‘cozy’). It had the air of being one of those spaces that is cluttered, but to call it anything but ‘neat’ would be an insult. Like a library of a devout scholar: cluttered with knowledge, yet, despite the fact that the shelves are puking pages, it all seems somehow perfectly in place.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Snape said in a tone that told him he didn’t want him to be comfortable at all. “Take care not to touch anything that isn’t yours.”

Tom’s eyes lidded. “So…don’t touch anything at all?”

“You’re catching on.” Snape smirked.

Tom rolled his eyes, not entirely sure Snape was joking.

“I’ll show you to your room.”

The words ‘your room’ were clipped, like the thought that it would belong to him for even a summer was repulsive. Though Tom could tell that before they arrived.

He opened a small door in the wall, which Tom would have thought another room, or perhaps a closet, but turned out to be a set of stairs.

After journeying up them, a hallway whose wood was in dire need of staining, dusty portraits whose stern eyes followed him as he walked by, and a decorative table with an empty vase upon it, greeted him.

The advertised room was small, and a bit stuffy, and a few of the floorboards creaked, but something told him he’d slept in worse conditions before.

Though it was a small house, they were able to keep to themselves. Snape was busy resettling into his house, and disinclined to give him a tour, and Tom, not having much to get settled in the first place, spent the time exploring his new surroundings.

He wandered around the library that was the downstairs, and the dingy hallways that were the upstairs. He took care not to enter what he assumed to be Snape’s room, as well as a few other locked rooms. He didn’t want to get on his bad side…if he even had a good side.

He quickly found he didn’t mind being around books. He had affinity for them, especially when their contents had to do with magic.

“Are these all about magic?” He asked Snape when he passed by.

“Some of them. It may surprise you to find most of them aren’t.”

“May I read them?” He asked, remembering Snape’s warning not to touch anything, as well as the fact that this was a ‘trial period.’

“If you cannot find ways to entertain yourself.”

“I’m sure I can. But you seem like the kind of man who appreciates silence.” He put his hands behind his back and smiled too pleasantly.

Snape pursed his lip.

They spent their time regarding each other as wolves encroaching on each others territories: they weren’t happy to be sharing the same space, but they couldn’t do anything but growl low until one of them made a move.

Later, when Snape made dinner, the action drew his attention from his book. Tom watched with fascination as Snape waved his wand with ease, and the ingredients floated and melded together of their own accord, like Snape’s wand knew what to say to them.

“Will I be able to do that?”

“A whole world of magic and you want to be able to make dinner?”

“Well—” Annoyance flared in Tom. “Of course I’d prefer to know much more exciting, dangerous things…but yes”

“Children are not allowed to use magic outside of school until they come of age…but, yes.”

The word ‘children’ in that condescending tone didn’t make him feel less annoyed.

“How come I’m able to do it, then? You’re able to teach me during the summer.”

“Dumbledore has his ways.”

Tom could tell he wouldn’t get any more information than that.

While they ate, Tom chanced a few more questions, and was surprised to find that it tasted quite good, and he thought he remembered someone once telling him good food does wonders for the soul.

He was glad to find that, despite Snape’s obvious distaste for him, and seemingly all things his age, he was cordial enough, and he certainly didn’t mind keeping to himself.

Tom was just thinking about asking when he’d start learning magic that evening, when a stack of books almost as tall as him landed on the table.

Flicking his eyes across the titles, he saw that each and every one of them something to do with magic.

“I expect you to have these read before before Potter arrives. Only then will I start teaching you magic.”

Tom leaned to the side to look at Snape and tried not to smirk.

“You sure this is everything? It doesn’t seem like quite enough.”

#harry potter #tom riddle #Severus snape #Harry Potter fanfiction #the boy with the unspeakable name #hp #hp fanfiction #hp fic #hp fanfic

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readyplayerhobi · 5 years

Text

Sleigh Bells Ring

; (Not so)Single Dad!Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff

; Word Count: 10.2k

; Synopsis: This Christmas is going to be different than usual; it’s you first spent with Hoseok and his daughters while living with them. You’re not sure who’s more excited though, you or Hoseok.

; A/N: Revisting our favourite dad and his family on Christmas! :D please reblog if you enjoyed and send me comments and questions! :D

; Sequel to Silver Bells and Cockle Shells

; Part of the 12 Days of Bangtan Collab

“You’ve got all the presents right? And the cookies? I definitely packed them in that bag for you. The presents are there aren’t they?” The insistent nattering of your mom makes your eyes roll exasperatedly, looking at her with love and affection alongside just a hint of annoyance.

She means well and you try to tell yourself that repeatedly. This is the first Christmas that you’ll be spending not at your parent’s house for the day. It sounds a little lame when you say that, considering your age, but you’d never been in a committed relationship where you’d been living with someone else to spend Christmas with them instead of your own family.

Until this year.

This year marked your third Christmas with Hoseok, but it was your first Christmas living with him. You’d only made the transition into not only his heart and his bed, but his home, a few months ago. Both of you had moved slowly, letting his daughters get used to the idea of you being around more frequently until the prospect of you living full time with them wasn’t strange.

For both them and you.

Hoseok had been painfully aware that he needed to move slowly and carefully with his daughters and you’d been completely amenable to it, recognising that his three little girls were his entire world. But he’d also been careful to make you aware that his small world had expanded to include you.

And that meant he knew that he couldn’t simply expect you to just be perfectly fine with gaining a purpose built family. Accepting him meant accepting his kids, and he had never expect you to be a mother to them but it had been inevitable that they slowly looked to you for things that a mother would be the most likely to give them.

Such as when you’d given Soo-ah plenty of advice when she’d shyly come to you one morning a few months ago, her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment while stress made her eyes big. It had been so early that Hoseok and you had still been fast asleep in bed, his eldest daughter quietly shaking you awake and hoping not to wake her father.

That hadn’t worked, of course. Hoseok was a dad, and he’d been a solo father for so long that he was automatically attuned to his kids needs which meant he’d startled awake faster than you. But she’d insistently tugged you out of his arms, a frown on her face as she’d steadfastly ignored his concerned gaze.

You knew that it had hurt him that she hadn’t felt that she could come to him, especially when you’d told him later that the reason she’d come to you had been because she’d started her first period. While he knew logically that she’d probably be more comfortable talking to you, as a woman, you’d still had to soothe his hurt parental feelings.

Still, you knew that he appreciated the fact that you were there for those more awkward talks. Though he had been adamant at making it clear to all his girls that he was not going to be a squeamish and awkward dad with them. No, he was very much ready to talk to them about whatever they wanted.

It had pleased you both though to know that Soo-ah was finally comfortable enough with you to discuss personal matters such as that. She’d struggled more than the twins at accepting you in her father’s, and therefore her life. But she was getting there and she’d been trying.

“Yes mom, they’re all in my bag. The presents, and the food. And the books. And everything else you’ve snuck in there. Probably the cat if you’ve tried.” You muse, glancing down at your phone as you respond to a text from your best friend with an amused smile.

Your mom just lets out a snort, causing you to look up and watch as she flops down onto the couch in an exaggerated manner that makes her look far younger than she actually. A glance at your dad lets you see that he’s not even phased, his gaze focused firmly on the 4K television he’d managed to coax your mom to buy a few months ago, a Playstation controller in his hand while he plays his game.

“You don’t have to act so rude. I’m just being nice and caring.” Sighing deeply, you sense that you’ve affronted her deeply held maternal instincts and so you place your phone down, giving her a sweet smile.

“Thank you mom. They will all appreciate the food. You know that Hoseok loves your cookies and the girl’s adore your cupcakes. And they will all love their presents, even though Hoseok said not to get them too much.” That was probably the wrong thing to say.

She’d looked pleased at hearing their love for her baking, and you wouldn’t fault her there because you also enjoyed eating her baked delights, but then your words about the presents filtered in and she scowled deeply. Internally, you winced because you knew that she was going to get mad now.

“What do you mean?! I haven’t got them too much, I’ve got just enough. There’s two presents for Hoseok and three each for the girls.” You can’t stop the smile that spreads as you listen to her, watching as she counts on her fingers while also explaining what she’d bought.

Your mom had been wary at first when you’d told her about Hoseok. She’d been delighted to find out that you’d found someone you really liked, especially when he treated you so well and made you much happier than you had been beforehand. She’d liked him even more when you’d finally shown her pictures of him, her eyes widening as she took in how handsome he was and the beautiful profile he was blessed with.

And then she’d found out that he was a widower and had three daughters. Not only that, but three daughters all over the age of five. That had thrown her a bit and you knew that she wasn’t sure what to expect.

Which had been entirely understandable. One child might have been surprising but not too much, two would have been a little more brow raising but three? That was a ready made family that you were walking into and she’d seen the potential fallout that could occur long before you’d properly thought about it.

As strange as it was for you to accept that you had entered into a relationship where you had become a pseudo-mom for three young girls, it was even stranger for your parents who had suddenly gone from no grandchildren to technically three. Even though you repeatedly told them that the girls were not their grandchildren.

But when did semantics ever matter to grandparents? They’d thrown themselves into it once they’d realised that Hoseok and you were serious, badgering you to introduce him and then his girls. Hoseok had been very hesitant and unsure, not wanting to make his previous wife’s parents feel uncomfortable at the idea of their grandchildren gaining ‘new’ grandparents.

So after permission from them, he’d finally brought them to your parents house for dinner. It had been his first time meeting them, which he’d handled like a trooper given the circumstances. And yet it had been almost instant love for your dad and the twins.

They’d latched onto each other instantly, enjoying his loud laugh and playing games together until Hoseok was apologising for the loudness of his progeny. But your dad hadn’t cared. In fact, he’d looked happier and more alive than you’d seen him in recent years.

And Soo-ah? Well, she’d surprisingly latched onto your mom pretty well. As said before, your mom was phenomenal at baking and often sold her stuff to friends or for small catering events. Soo-ah had discovered a love of baking through her, enjoying spending all her time in the kitchen as they baked delicious food.

You supposed it was your mom’s kind and loving nature. She had worked for a long time as a support worker, caring specifically for a group of girls with severe disabilities and ensuring that they got to enjoy their life to the fullest. It had been the perfect job for her, suiting her nurturing personality and she’d done amazing at it, but ill health had forced her to retire a little earlier than she would have liked to.

With Soo-ah, she’d inadvertently found someone to nurture who hadn’t even realised they’d wanted or needed it. You’d felt bad that Soo-ah seemed to like your mom better than her own, blood grandparents but Hoseok had waved off your concerns with a smile.

In his eyes, they would be just as much her grandparents if your relationship kept going well as her real grandparents. Besides, it had endeared her to you a lot quicker now that she always wanted to visit your mom.

“Did you leave any for me?” You tease lightly, smiling as she pauses and gives you an imperious look. It’s a look that she’s given you many times throughout your life and it causes you to chuckle, knowing that of course there are presents for you. As an only child, you would fully admit to being spoiled by your parents throughout your life.

It wasn’t something you’d ever asked for, but they’d done it either way. And you knew that they revelled in the concept of having more people to dote affection on. Particularly given how much they liked Hoseok. You were pretty positive that they’d begun saving for a wedding months ago, even though there had been zero hint of that from either Hoseok or you.

“There’s some for you...yes. Hopefully you’ll like them.” Your dad finally deigns to say, glancing over at you with a small smile before he’s looking back at the television screen. Chuckling lightly, you nod and stand up, stretching with a small grunt.

“I’m sure I will. Remember, yours are under the tree,” You pause slightly, warmth rushing through your chest as you look over at the small pile of presents for each of your parents. “There’s one each from the girls and then...ones from Hoseok and I.”

It leaves you a little breathless to say that and you feel silly, looking down at your hands. Last year, Hoseok had brought the presents for your parents separately and it had simply been one present from all four of them. But this year, he’d gone with you to buy them and had picked out the presents from his daughters.

Your heart fluttered slightly, knowing that the presents from you now bore gift tags that said ‘To Mom, love Y/N and Hoseok’. It had strangely made everything seem much more real, as you’d never had a relationship serious enough to warrant dual signed presents. He’d written the tags to his own parents presents as from both of you as well, leading to a little anxiety from you that they wouldn’t be fond of that.

They hadn’t said anything when he’d dropped them off though, just gave you both a hug and him an extra kiss on the cheek while thanking you and handing off their own presents. It had been with excitement that you’d seen presents labelled to you in them, leading you to silently believe that they approved of you.

Things like that were probably normal in most relationships, but everything seemed to be done different for Hoseok and you. After all, he had three daughters over the age of four when you first started dating. The rules were a little different in situations like that.

“Okay, I’m gonna head off. Anything else you desperately need to do?” You ask teasingly, grinning at your mom’s outraged expression before she shrugged lightly.

“Maybe I’ve got one more present for Hoseokie.” Her endearing nickname for him was cute and you try to hide your smile, knowing that she only calls him that when he’s not there. If she thought he didn’t know though, he was very wrong. She’d called him it once on a call to you only it had been on speakerphone while you did something else, leading to him overhearing her nickname.

He liked it though.

“Mom! Seriously?” You whine at her quietly, standing and heading out to the hall. The bag that she’d put all the presents into is waiting for you beside your boots which you pull on before slipping your arms through your black winter coat. A scarf is being wrapped around your head before she appears again with a smile and a small box in her hand.

“Hush. He deserves to be doted on after all he’s gone through. It’s nothing big.” Staring at her in suspicion, you look down at the plain box with a wary eye. It’s got no wrapping on it so you presume it’s something she bought rather late.

“Is this something he can open in front of the kids?” She gets an affronted look before snorting a laugh, something that sounds incredibly similar to what you do. Hoseok had noted that you seemed to favour your mom a lot in terms of mannerisms.

“Y/N! Seriously! It’s not a cock ring. It’s...it’s a photo frame. I’m not sure he’ll like it but I hope he does.” Pursing your lips, you look down at the box with an undeniable inquisitiveness and your mom tuts in gentle admonishment, taking it from your hands and opening it.

It’s one of those frames that let you put multiple pictures in and each one has been lovingly filled by her. There’s a photo of the girls, then one of Hoseok and the girls together, then one of you and them together. And finally, a photo of just Hoseok and you, arms wrapped around each other with silly grins on your faces.

You find yourself smiling softly before you hesitate, letting your fingers run down the side. “Mom...there’s no Yoo-jin picture. Maybe we should swap the one of me and-”

The cover is placed back on the box and she puts it into the bag at your feet before looking at you with a sad smile. Her hands come up to fuss with your scarf and you feel like a child all over again.

“Sweetheart, Yoo-jin still lives in that house and I’m glad she does. She is the mother of those beautiful girls and she shouldn’t be forgotten. But it makes me sad when I go there and I see more of her than you. You live there now. I’m not saying that I want her photos gone, I don’t. I just want to see more of you in there. If it offends Hoseok then he doesn’t have to put them anywhere, but I’d like to think that he’d be amenable to it.”

“Mom…”

“I’m not saying to erase Yoo-jin, she has a firm place and she should never be removed from that place. But it’s your home now too. You live there, you care for those girls, you love those girls and you love that man.” You can’t find it in yourself to say anything to her so you simply nod, hoping to find a way to explain it to Hoseok.

There were photos of you in the house, but they were still minimal compared to those of Hoseok, the girls and Yoo-jin. You’d been okay with that, knowing that you were the imposter in that perfect little family. But your mom had hit a hidden nerve, the worry that you wouldn’t be allowed to grow in the space he’d invited you into.

Shaking your head, you smile brightly at her before giving her a tight hug.

“Thank you mom. I’ll call you tomorrow. Until then...Merry Christmas!”

Later that evening, you’re sat on the couch and watching as the twins shout at each other while playing on their Nintendo Switch. Hoseok had bought them it for their birthday and you weren’t entirely sure buying twins a single present was a good idea, but he’d pointed out that if he bought only one of them it then he’d have to buy the other and he didn’t want to spend that much.

Which was reasonable, and it also meant that they had to take care of it because Hoseok had threatened that if it got broken, it was staying broken. So they treated it like a prized toy, having advanced from their superhero love to loving video games. You weren’t sure how Hoseok was managing to raise two girls who adored all things nerdy, because he wasn’t exactly a geeky person himself.

Another reason they loved you so much.

But for the moment, they were absorbed in playing Mario Kart with each other and trying to beat the other. If there was one thing being with Hoseok had taught you, it was that twins were perhaps the competitive creatures on the planet.

Soo-ah was curled up in her usual spot in the comfy armchair she’d claimed as her own when Hoseok had bought a whole new suite the other year. The old one had ended up breaking when Ji-soo had jumped on it too hard. It was the angriest you’d ever seen Hoseok.

Not that he’d let that anger be seen by the girls, but when they weren’t in ear shot he’d used an amazing array of curse words that you hadn’t thought he’d even known frankly. But he conceded that he liked the new couches better, and Soo-ah had loved having her own little space in the living room.

A book was in her lap, one of the Percy Jackson books and you smiled at her softly even though she wasn’t watching. She was going to be a teenager soon, and you could already see the way she was starting to grow taller, her limbs starting to get that gangly look teens got when their bodies weren’t quite growing at the same rate.

But you’d never deny that she was the spitting image of her mom. It was like looking at Yoo-jin, which was an odd feeling for you given that you’d never actually met the woman. You felt proud of Soo-ah though and hoped that her mom was happy with how you were helping to raise her.

Warm lips press to your temple gently and you shift, looking at your boyfriend with a gentle smile and enjoying the tender gaze he gives back, eyes shimmering in the glow of the Christmas lights wrapped around the tree. It was decorated in rose gold and gold, a request from Soo-ah who was a little obsessed with the former at the moment, but you had to admit it was pretty.

The delicate baubles and other decorations hung from the fake trees limbs prettily while glitter tinsel wrapped its way around the branches, mingled with the warm lights that flickered softly. Icicle lights of the same colour decorated the main window while a sweet Christmas scene played out along the window sill.

Above the fireplace, which was currently lit and giving off a cosy warmth, were three stockings that had been personalised with a name each. They were for the girls evidently, and Hoseok had been using the threat of Santa all month to get them to do what he wanted.

You knew he was going to hate it when he couldn’t do that anymore.

More tinsel surrounded the shelf above the fireplace, shimmering softly as tiny snowflakes nestled amongst the festive decorations while various Christmas themed figures sat atop it alongside Christmas cards from family and friends.

It was all mostly matching, but some of it was a little odd. Like the plastic reindeer in the corner of the room, taking up the space that the vase which held ornamental branches normally held. That had been Ji-eun’s purchase. She’d threatened to have a nuclear meltdown in the store, despite being seven now, and Hoseok simply hadn’t had the willpower to put up with that.

Hence Meteor, the reindeer.

The name was Ji-soo’s choice. Again, something neither you nor Hoseok had wanted to fight.

But overall, the house just felt like Christmas and it pleased you. The candles which flickered gently atop the bookcase gave off a delightful cookie scent and everything just felt...nice. Three happy and content girls, a decorated house, presents under the tree and the most wonderful man in the world sat with you on the couch, his arm wrapped around you.

Yeah, this was definitely happiness. And you were glad that Hoseok was open to letting you experience this joy with him.

“You okay?” Hoseok whispers, his voice husky from how low he has it but you get the sense that he doesn’t want to interrupt the general mood of the room. It had been a worry as to how the girls might react to you not only coming over for Christmas, which is what you’d done last year in the afternoon, but actually being there for Christmas Eve and Christmas morning.

Despite how well they’d taken your presence in their lives, there were some things that they had as a routine that they didn’t like changing. Their birthday had bizarrely been one of the things that set the twins off. They had generally been amenable to you, latching onto you even but their birthday had been something that they had only ever celebrated with their daddy and grandparents.

It was made all the more awkward in that it was also the day Yoo-jin had died, meaning that Hoseok had juggled between celebrating the girls and commemorating their mom. Your appearance in their life had shifted that tradition and it had been one of the only major times that they’d thrown tantrums over you.

But everyone seemed to be okay this Christmas thankfully, and you smiled up at Hoseok.

“I’m fine. Just...gathering wool I guess,” You laugh quietly, feeling his body move against you as he lets out a breathy laugh too. “It’s exciting, spending Christmas with you and them.”

“I’m glad you think so. Part of me is a little sad that I can’t spend a Christmas with just you and give you that but then I wouldn’t trade a Christmas with the girls for anything. They make Christmas fun again.” He’s still got his voice low so they can’t hear, but the twins are making more than enough noise to cover up anything.

“Hey, don’t worry about that. It’s okay. Christmas is meant to be for family right? So...this is your family and I’m honoured to be part of it this year.” Hoseok grins at that, pursing his lips at you playfully and you roll your eyes before giving him a quick kiss.

That had been something new to get used to as well. Neither of you had really known how to introduce the concept of you both showing physical affection to each other in front of his kids so you’d just slowly worked your way up from holding hands to an occasional kiss.

Nothing too intense, neither of you felt it was appropriate to do anything more in front of them. You’d been mortified when Soo-ah had come across you both making out like teenagers and you’d been horrified when Hoseok forgot to lock the bedroom door one day and Ji-soo had woken up from a nightmare.

Thankfully, none of them particularly turned their nose up at a quick kiss and Hoseok in particular revelled in being able to show you affection. You’d discovered quickly that he was a very affectionate person when allowed, always wanting to be touching or holding you in some way. It was sweet, even if you had a suspicion that he’d likely always been affectionate but had been starved of romantic touch for so long.

“I love you.” He murmurs as he pulls away from your lips, pressing them to your forehead before looking over at the girls. “Okay, come on. I’ve got one present that Santa has given me early for you to open now and then it’s bedtime.”

The girl instantly stop their game, pausing it while Soo-ah looked up with bright eyes. She’d been told the truth about Santa two years ago but the twins still believed. And this was one of the traditions that you’d been worried about interrupting.

Hoseok squeezed your hand reassuringly though as he stood, heading over to the bookcase and pulling down four presents. He came back over to the girls and sat down on the floor with them, legs crossed as Soo-ah knelt next to him as well.

You remained on the couch, unwilling to intrude in this tradition. Hoseok had tried to get you to agree to get involved but you’d refused, deeming this to be something that only he and the girls should do.

“So, let’s look. This one...is for Ji-soo. This is Soo-ah, this is mine and that means that this is yours.” Hoseok grins at Ji-eun, handing her the prettily wrapped present. This was a tradition Hoseok had started after the twins were born and you hoped it continued on.

On Christmas Eve, he would give the girls a present each like he was doing now. Only they weren’t implied to be from him or his grandparents that Santa was delivering. Instead, these were special presents that Santa had retrieved from their mommy and delivered for them to open before Christmas.

As such, each tag wished them a happy Christmas and told them how much their mom loved them. It was the perfect way to keep her involved in their lives while also creating a sweet tradition of their own, and you’d refused to get involved with this one.

This was for them, to celebrate their mom on Christmas even if she wasn’t there.

“You go first Soo-ah.” Ji-soo says sweetly, smiling at her big sister and shuffling closer to her to see what she’s got. As with everything she does, Soo-ah opens it carefully and precisely before smiling. She obviously knows that it’s not from Santa, nor is it from her mom. But she plays along with it anyway.

Inside is a little black box and inside that is a beautiful necklace with a rose gold fox, enameled with white highlights. Soo-ah smiles brightly, lifting the delicate chain and watching as it shines prettily in the soft tree lights.

“It’s so pretty.” She whispers before placing it back down, letting her finger run over the pendant before looking at Ji-soo. Her younger sister has big, wide eyes before she looks down at her own present, tearing it open eagerly.

As she does so, Soo-ah looks at Hoseok and gives him a smile of thanks before focusing back on the mess Ji-soo is causing. Inside Ji-soo’s present is a set of Harry Potter books, something she’d been bugging Soo-ah to let her read for months now. Like her sister, Ji-soo was getting more into reading and Hoseok evidently wanted to encourage that.

“Thank you.” She said softly, smiling sweetly as she turned each book over reverently. No doubt they’d end up on the floor of the twins bedroom sooner rather than later but you had no doubt that they’d get read.

Ji-eun is already opening her present, revealing a LEGO set that at first glance doesn’t seem to be much but is in actuality, a Star Wars model. Immediately she’s squealing with excitement, about to tear into the box before Hoseok is tutting and taking it away from her.

“Tomorrow Ji-eun, I said we open the presents then we go to bed, right?” She pouts before nodding, her shoulders slumping and Ji-soo hugs her tightly.

“It’s okay! We can build it tomorrow sis.” Like magic, the words from her sister calm Ji-eun down and she’s back to being her smiling self, hugging Ji-soo back before babbling on about how cool it would be to play with. She’d already got around six other LEGO sets, enjoying the Star Wars ones because she could pretend to be in space.

Hoseok had made some good decisions with the presents and you let your foot run along his back slowly, letting him know that you approved of what he’d bought. Not that you hadn’t known, but he’d chosen these ones himself with no input from you. And he’d always been one to encourage any interests his daughters might have.

“Open yours dad! Open it!” Ji-soo exclaims, her twin practically vibrating next to her as she nods in excitement while Soo-ah moves a little closer too. This was the present that Hoseok had felt most awkward about, because he normally got his mom to get him something. But this year he’d asked you to get it, hoping to integrate both his deceased and his current loves.

You’d felt honoured and worried, unsure as to whether it would look good if you bought a present from him that was to be given in his dead wife’s name. But Yoo-jin’s parents had given their blessing to Hoseok’s idea, telling you that they knew you would do a good job for her because you were already doing good with her husband and children.

Maybe that made you cry. Just a little. Not a lot or anything.

As such, Hoseok had no idea what his present was, so shifted slightly to let you see his face too. He opened it up slowly, head tilting as he looked at the frame in his hand. It showed three star charts with a date below each.

And then he stiffened in realisation of what they symbolised, his eyes getting glassy as his lip quivered ever so slightly. Soo-ah frowned as she leaned forward, wondering what it was and she queried it softly.

Hoseok sniffed slightly before blinking rapidly and giving his girls a bright smile.

“It’s a star chart. It shows what the night sky looked like at a specific date so you can see what constellations were there. This...is your birthday Soo-ah and this is your birthday,” He points at one before gesturing to the twins. “And this...this is the day your mom and I got married.”

You can tell he’s struggling then for a moment and you reach out once more, just resting your foot against his hip in a simple gesture that said ‘I’m here’. He looked at you with a smile that wobbled before nodding slightly, pressing his lips into a firm line.

“I’ll have to put this up somewhere, huh?” There’s quiet for a moment before he places it to the side and gestures to the girls, pulling them all into a tight hug and kissing each one firmly on the head as they squirm and giggle. “I love you, and your mom loves you. I hope you like the presents Santa got from her.”

“We love them!” Ji-soo responds softly, wiping at her eyes that suddenly look a lot more tired and you can’t help but laugh gently. You swear the twins are battery operated because as soon as they lose power then they seem to shut down.

Hoseok senses it too, kissing her on the forehead before standing up.

“Okay, well...let’s get ready for bed then yeah? Santa can’t come if you’re awake! Don’t forget to leave out the carrot and cake for him, he’ll be very tired after all the travelling.” With that, you stand with him to help get them all ready and sent off to bed.

As they leave the kitchen after leaving out their treats for Santa and his reindeer, Hoseok pulls you to the side and presses a quick but deep kiss to your lips, holding your cheeks between his hands. He shifts back just as quickly, resting his forehead against yours and giving you such a fond look.

“Thank you. I love it. You should have left a space open on it though.” You feel yourself heat at that, unsure as to whether he means for another child or a wedding or what. “She would have approved.”

With that, he gives you another kiss before heading up the stairs to where the cacophony of girl voices tells you that the usual night time routine is in full motion. Standing in place for a moment, you look to the photo of Yoo-jin and Hoseok on their wedding day that sits atop the mantlepiece.

“I hope he’s right Yoo-jin. Happy Christmas.”

Shrieking voices wake you in the morning, alertness coming far too fast even though you’d been in bed by 11pm. Quietly you groan, voice gravelly from sleep while your eyes refused to open. Instead, you just roll over and curl closer into Hoseok, his warm body combining with the comfiness of the bed to try and lull you back to sleep.

But Hoseok is already alert, heaving a big sigh as he lets his head flop into the pillow for a few more moments before he’s shifting. You whine at him, fingers clutching at his shirt and he lets out a broken laugh, sitting up and running his hand over your shoulder.

“Come on baby, time to get up. It’s Christmas!” Despite how tired he sounds, you can tell he’s excited. Then again, he’s used to getting up crazy early with three kids by now. The man doesn’t know how to have a proper lie in, practically physically incapable of staying in bed past 9am. Unlike you...you hadn’t quite learnt that skill yet.

All of this meant that he was already pretty alert, a smile on his face despite his puffy eyes and cheeks, dark hair a complete mess. He hated what he looked like when he’d just woken up but you thought it was adorable.

The door slams open suddenly, left unlocked by Hoseok specifically for this reason despite the closed door policy of the house and two incredibly hyperactive girls come barreling through, voices getting increasingly louder as they talk over each other. Shuffling in bed, you move enough to let your head rest on Hoseok’s thigh as the twins jump onto the bed too, telling you both to hurry up.

“I’m guessing Santa’s been?” You ask, licking your lips and smile at the enthusiastic response you get from them. Soo-ah is stood in the doorway, looking far more tired than them with her plaited hair messy and pyjamas wrinkled.

“Yes! So you have to come downstairs! Come on! Please! Hurry up dad!” Ji-soo is tugging at Hoseok’s arm, jerking him as he laughs and holds up his free hand to her.

“Okay, okay. Go wash your faces and brush your teeth first then we’ll go down and open presents. Let me and Y/N get ready too.” They both pout immediately at the prospect of having to do chores, they thought of brushing their teeth as a chore at the moment, before opening presents but Hoseok is giving them The Look and so they speed off.

Soo-ah smiles at you both. “I’ll take them downstairs, don’t worry.”

With that, she closes the door behind her and leaves. Hoseok lets out a deep sigh that seems to come from the bottom of his stomach. “God...she’s getting older so quick. Where did my little girl go?”

Chuckling, you push yourself up and finally escape the confines of the duvet, stretching with a groan as you get out all the kinks.

“She’s still there. She’s growing up really well though.” You say absently, rubbing your eyes as you yawn. As such, you don’t see Hoseok come up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly before kissing your shoulder.

“She is. Come on anyway, we can’t leave them alone too long. They’ll chew off their arms in impatience.” You snort in response to that, following him into the bathroom and quickly doing your morning routine at a much faster pace than you normally do.

Despite Hoseok saying that you didn’t need to change, you take the liberty of pulling on some clean underwear and leggings at least, wanting to be comfy and at least feel a little more like a person. He just pulls on some sweatpants before leading you downstairs.

The Christmas lights have already been turned on by Soo-ah you presume and you can’t help but laugh as all three of them sit eagerly on the floor in front of their respective present piles. Soo-ah doesn’t have as much as the twins, but then she’s reaching the age where her presents get smaller but more expensive.

“I see you’ve been good girl’s this year then. Santa must have enjoyed his time here,” Hoseok grins, pointing at the half eaten pie and empty glass that sat on the mantelpiece. “So come on then, let’s get on with it.”

He sits down on the couch, letting the girls take up the space and tugs you down next to him. The girls immediately tore into their presents, no consideration given for the time that had been spent wrapping them or anything and Hoseok has to repeatedly remind them to read the tags.

Soo-ah is finished first obviously, her pile consisting of books she’d asked for, a few films, some cute plushies and a bunch of clothes. That was everything she’d gotten from her grandparents and other family members. Her pride and joy though was the iPad that Hoseok had finally caved and bought for her.

The only reason he’d given in was because you’d told him that you’d pay part of it too so that he wasn’t spending a crazy amount on her. So it was the first dual present you’d ever gotten for her before and it made your stomach flutter with nerves and excitement as she squealed excitedly, holding the box to her chest tightly.

“Thank you dad!” Soo-ah said with the biggest smile, her eyes bright and Hoseok laughed, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him.

“You need to thank Y/N too.” Without a second's hesitation she turns that pretty smile onto you and thanks you as well, jumping up and hugging you both tightly. She smells of the body spray that she’d started to wear lately, just a cheap one from the grocery store.

Ji-eun and Ji-soo distract you soon after, looking down at them as they both gasp in awe of the Playstation 4 that had been bought as a dual gift for them. A benefit of them both having the same bedroom was that Hoseok had only needed to buy one, letting them finally play all the games they begged to play on the console in the living room.

He was finally letting them have a little more time with electronics and you’d supported his decision the whole way.

Alongside the PS4 came a whole host of games that they’d been desperately wanting to play along with a VR headset and an extra controller. That hadn’t been in the plan but Hoseok had been completely taken with the sales rep and ended up coming home with the thing. You hadn’t known whether it was a good idea for two girls so young but you figured they’d grow into it.

Plus...you kinda wanted to play it too.

Hoseok had admitted that to you as well and you had a feeling that it was probably more of a guilty present for himself as well. Not that you were going to out him about it or anything. At least...not until you’ve played Astrobot Rescue…

Their final presents from both you and Hoseok had been new bikes, bikes that would last them a few years as they grew. They weren’t cheap either, those fancy mountain bike styles because Hoseok wanted to be able to go on trails with them or take mini vacations to go biking. He liked that apparently, which was why you’d bought him a mountain bike for Christmas too.

Thankfully, you already had one so he had no reason to buy you one and Soo-ah had been gifted one last year from his parents. Their presents this from family were an assortment of superhero themed dolls which they still enjoyed playing with and a few small LEGO sets. For the most part, they both had similar interests so presents were a lot easier but you knew that would change as they grew older.

Then they’d watched with excitement as you and Hoseok opened presents. He got a bottle of expensive wine from his parents along with some expensive new shoes while Yoo-jin’s parents had gifted him a record player. You were surprised they still got him something but you thought it was sweet too.

Your own parents had gotten him one of the instant cameras, which confused you at first until he’d explained with a grin that he’d said to your dad he wanted one to take pictures and put them into books for the girls, and a box of fancy biscuits. The picture frame you’d hurried to say that you’d suggested changing one of the photos to Yoo-jin but Hoseok had just looked at you fondly, shaking his head lightly and telling you that it was perfect the way it was.

He’d obviously got a bike from you but then you’d also splurged on him and gotten him the dash camera he wanted for his car. A more fun present was the series of figures that he loved. His face lit up in a smile that was a mirror image of his daughters as he examined the limited edition models with pure glee and your heart felt like it was going to explode in love.

From the girls, he got a whole range of small things that you’d gone and bought with them. Just stuff like funny socks to funny shirts, books to a new phone case. And you could see that he loved and appreciated every one of them.

Your own presents made you feel a little shy, the pile smaller than everyone else’s but they were just as eager to watch. The first thing you opened were from the girls. Hoseok had gotten you something from them last year but obviously you hadn’t seen them. This year you had them watching avidly.

And you let out a gasp of delight as you look down at the box of your favourite perfume, perfume that was not cheap.

“Oh my god! Thank you! This is my favourite!” You say excitedly, grinning broadly as you open the box and take out the pretty bottle. Soo-ah giggles as she shuffles closely, dainty fingers reaching out and touching the glass reverently.

“I know. I looked at your perfume and told dad.” Glancing at Hoseok, he shrugs with a small smile and you feel warmth blossom within at the fact that Soo-ah had taken the time to properly look. Despite feeling closer to the twins due to their immediate attachment to you, you still loved Hoseok’s eldest daughter and every step forward with her felt like a small victory.

“I love it. Thank you all.”

Your parents had gotten you a new laptop and you vaguely remember that you’d told them you needed a new one. What’s surprising though is that it’s the exact one you’d been eyeing. Suspiciously, you glance to Hoseok who has a very innocent look on his face, eyes widening and brows rising as you watch him.

His parents had gotten you a beautiful military style long coat that had you ooh-ing as you ran your fingers over the luxurious black material and shiny gold buttons. It was truly exquisite and you just knew that it would look good on you.

Your eyes widened in shock as you were handed another present, this one small and delicate. But it was the tag that had you pausing, stating that it was from Yoo-jin’s parents. Almost immediately you look at Hoseok in confusion and he just leant forward, kissing your forehead.

“They’ve never met you but they know you’re in our lives and they didn’t want to be rude.” It was strange, opening up the present that his deceased wife’s parents had gotten you. Like you were breaking the rules or something, betraying Yoo-jin’s memory.

Inside was a delicate silver bracelet, little stars and moon breaking up the chain every now and then. It wasn’t an expensive brand or anything, but it could have been a cheap $5 ring and you would have been in awe given who it came from. Tenderly, you run your fingers along it while the girls all make noises at how pretty it is.

And then came the presents from Hoseok. Who appeared to have spoiled you given what you opened. Which was saying something given how much you’d spent on him.

A new Pandora bracelet complete with a set of Disney charms alongside a second bracelet that was rose gold, the hue shining in the dainty Christmas lights. New boots that you’d been considering for the last two months, your size and the exact colour you’d wanted. A set of tiny Harry Potter themed snow globes for your desk and a bunch of your favourite Pokémon in plush form. The console games you’d been wanting for a while but had been unwilling to spend money on and some new books for you to enjoy in your downtime.

And then on top of all that, which was ridiculously honestly, was the Canon DSLR that he’d bought you. You’d been wanting to get a new camera and try out photography again, something you’d done years ago, but the cost had been putting you off.

“Hoseok!” His name comes out in an exasperated tone that’s threaded through with love, knowing that he’d just come with some excuse as to why he spent so much on you. You knew that he earnt enough and with you sharing the bills now he was even better off, but you’d never had so much stuff bought for it.

It left you a little flustered.

Almost as if he can tell, he grins broadly and kisses your cheek with an overly loud noise. The girls giggle to themselves at his display of affection before he squeezes your hand tightly.

“It’s Christmas! The season of giving. You can’t complain. Santa said you’ve been good.” You give him a look that tells him there’ll be a conversation about this later but you’re both distracted when the girls start to get antsy, wanting to play with their own stuff.

His foot came down rather quickly when the twins began to beg him to let them play outside on their bikes, desperate to have fun and probably scrape their knees multiple times. You’re sure he would’ve been okay with it, except that it was 5:30 in the morning and dark outside. Not exactly the right conditions to be letting them go around screaming.

Instead, he made them all go upstairs and shower to make sure that they were all clean before getting dressed in their comfy Christmas clothes that you’d bought for them. That was a tradition you’d brought from your own family; every year you got a new outfit for Christmas. Hoseok had been bemused by it but he’d gone along and the girls were just excited to have new clothes.

Once everyone was all dressed, you watched Hoseok for a moment as he helped to set up Soo-ah’s iPad as the twins got settled into playing on their PS4 already. He’d already turned it on and set it all up the other day so they were fully immersed in one of the LEGO games he’d bought, each chattering away as they played split screen.

A sudden wave of isolation hits you as you watched them, realising that you could easily walk out of the house right now and the picture here would still be the same. They wouldn’t really notice your loss and they’d survive happily without it. This was a family, his family. And you were just the interloper in it.

Chewing your lip, you turn around and head into the kitchen with a deep sigh. You try to keep those thoughts out of your head but it’s always a worry at the back of your mind. The anxiety that it all might fall apart. That you’d lose not only the man you love dearly, the man you’re positive is the love of your life, but also his beautiful daughters whom you had also come to love.

The kitchen is quiet as you turn on the oven, letting it pre-heat while you pull out the meats that you’d prepared the day before with Hoseok. Christmas dinner was easily one of the best moments of the day for you and you’d worked hard to combine his dinner with your family. Which meant you were eating honey glazed ham and roast turkey stuffed full of sage and onion stuffing.

Checking them over, you tut slightly and work at making sure they’ll be okay before placing them both into the oven, thankful that it was big enough to accommodate both. He had a grill above this that could also function as a second oven and you would be playing the vegetables into their later on to roast them to perfection with the seasonings and spices you’d lavished upon them.

You’re so invested in the food, taking out the cookies and everything your mom had given you yesterday and laying them on the side so that everyone could snack on them while the food cooked throughout the morning, that you don’t notice Hoseok sneaking in. It’s only when his arms wind around your waist that you realise, jumping slightly.

“Are you mad at me?” The childish tone to his voice tells you that he’s pouting and you resolve not to look at him. He has the most ridiculous puppy-eyes that manage to get him anything he wants and you’re not falling for it today. Not that you were actually mad at him or anything.

“No, I’m not. Though you spend way too much!” You whine petulantly poking his arm with your own lips turning into a pout. Hoseok chuckles, his chest vibrating against your back before he turns you around and gives you a bright smile, dimples appearing in his cheeks adorably.

“I love you. Christmas is when I get to spoil you.”

“You spoilt me on my birthday and our anniversary too.” Eyeing him suspiciously, his tongue pokes at his cheek as he looks at the ceiling and considers.

“Okay maybe so, but still. Point stands. I love you. And you never buy yourself anything! You always talk yourself out of it.” He argues, voice getting lower and more mumbled and you can’t help but smile at his face, reaching up and cupping those cheeks until they’re comically smushed. Despite the grumbles coming from his throat, he lets you be silly with him and you know it’s because you’ve gotten over it already.

“Did you like your stuff?” He nods, head jerking your hands before he reaches up and moves them away from his face.

“I did. I’m a lucky guy.” Not responding, you just lean against his chest and exhale deeply, eyes closing as you just enjoy being with him in a small moment of silence in the madness that is his house. A madness that you’ve come to love and adore, something you’re not entirely sure you could live without anymore.

“This has been the best Christmas in a while.” Hoseok whispers softly, resting his cheek against your head while his arms wrap around you tighter. You don’t respond for a moment, hands grasping at his shirt before a response slips from your lips in a small, meek voice.

“Really?”

“Yes. Really. It feels...whole again. It’s been really nice to just...have someone else here. Someone I love, you know?” You don’t really know but you nod anyway, unwilling to let the moment slide between you both.

“I love you.” It’s whispered against his chest but you know that he hears, arms tightening for a moment before he kisses your head.

“Love you too.”

A click and a flash of light makes you jump, eyes widening as you look up at Hoseok who grins from behind the camera your parents had got him. It was after 10pm now, dinner a long distant memory and you were sipping a glass of mulled wine on the couch, curled up in your pyjamas and reading one of the new books you’d been given.

The girls had tired themselves out and had gone to bed over an hour ago, the early start and excitement of the day knocking them out quicker than you’d ever seen. Hoseok had spent that time cleaning up the room to his liking, putting their presents into neat piles before sitting on the floor in front of you and messing around with some of his own presents.

And your’s, he’d also been playing with your own camera. You were content to let him do so, the silence between you both comfortable and pleasant. His very presence was just soothing and the tiny noises he made without realising amused you.

But evidently he was feeling playful now, his face a picture of mischief as he takes the photo that prints out and waves it, letting the picture develop. Shaking your head, you roll your eyes at him before reaching out and pushing at his shoulder with your foot.

He chuckles, grabbing your foot and kissing your ankle. The close vicinity to your feet makes you cringe, pulling back immediately as you make a sound that would be more at home coming out of Ji-soo or Ji-eun’s mouth.

“Having fun?” You ask, lips pursing as he holds out the photo to you once he’s scribbled something on it in black Sharpie. It’s not bad in reality, those cameras always have a way of bizarrely making people look good and you run your finger over the photograph carefully, admiring the way he’d written ‘First Christmas together’. Hoseok takes it back and places it on the coffee table reverently.

“Yep. You’re beautiful.” That gets a soft laugh and the camera flashes once more, capturing the emotion forever. You whine, disliking the momentary blindness but he just lays his head on your knee for a moment, waiting for the photo to develop.

Once it’s done, he pushes up and sits next to you, holding out the camera in front of you both and gestures to you. You smile prettily for the camera, head leaning in towards him and waiting for the flash once more.

“Will you marry me?”

Any thoughts of the camera disappear as your eyes widen and your jaw drops, turning to look at him in shock. The click of his finger on the camera button combines with a blinding flash, the camera whirring as it prints.

“What?” It’s the only thing you can say, shock freezing you as you’re not sure if he’d just said that to get a reaction out of you or because he genuinely meant it. But then he looks at you with a gentle smile, handing you the photograph and getting up to retrieve something he’d hidden behind a frame on the mantelpiece.

Sitting back next to you, you’re still experiencing that bizarre sense of uncertainty, body flushing cold and hot as you try to assess the situation. But then Hoseok opens the tiny box, revealing an elegant silver ring with a beautiful diamond set into the centre. It’s simple, but you love it already and without even realising you start to cry.

“Hoseok…”

“Will you marry me? Final present, I swear.” He grins, his own eyes looking ever so slightly misty while his cheeks take on a slightly rosy glow. You can’t stop looking between his face and the ring, hands shaking as you drop the book onto your lap and reaching out for it.

“Really? You...you really want to marry me?” Part of you knows that you should just say yes, but your emotions are so overwhelmed. Marriage was obviously something that you’d both discussed, it was something that anyone who had inclinations of wanting to get married and in a long term relationship discussed, but you just hadn’t thought he’d want to so early.

It wasn’t even ten years since his wife had died and he’d always said that she was the love of his life. While you knew that was likely true and you hadn’t wanted to try and compete against a woman who couldn’t fight back, you had that struggle in that you were faced with a woman who would forever be perfect in his memory.

Marriage for Hoseok meant cementing your place into his family, truly allowing you to take the place Yoo-jin had left. You would legally be the girls step-mother. It just all felt so final and you hadn’t been sure that Hoseok was ready for that.

“Of course I want to marry you. I love you. As cheesy as it is...you made me realise that it’s okay to love again. That’s it’s not betraying Yoo-jin, or myself or my kids. I have so much to thank you for; for embracing my kids, for loving me even though I came with a lot extra, for not trying to erase Yoo-jin, for just caring so much. I love being with you, I love how my kids love you, I love how my parents love you, I love your parents, I love you try so hard. Being with you...makes me feel younger than I actually am, like I’ve got a partner in crime again. That sounds lame,” He snorts, rolling his eyes.

“But it’s true. It’s not just me being ganged up on by my daughters anymore. I have someone to confide in, someone to trust, someone that I can break down in front of and not be seen as weak and who will hold me up until I feel strong again. I don’t think you realise how much you’ve done for me, or my family. Our family. I know you always think about Yoo-jin and your respect for her is amazing. But I don’t want you to think about her this time. I just want you to think about yourself. I love you and I really, really want to marry you.”

You have no doubt that you’re ugly crying now, your nose going alongside your eyes and you sniffle pathetically, rubbing at your face with the ends of your sweater. It makes Hoseok laugh gently, reaching out and pulling you into a tight hug. Neither of you realises for a moment that you’re nodding your acceptance, body already doing what your mind had decided.

“Yes. Yes, god yes. I’d...I’d love to marry you. I mean if you’re okay with that.”

“Sweetheart...I just asked you. I think I’m okay with it.” But he doesn’t push further, grinning broadly as he pushes the ring onto your finger before kissing it. His eyes are still shining with his own unshed tears, happiness dancing in them before he pulls you closer, pressing his lips to yours in a deep kiss, neither of you caring if anyone interrupts this one.

“God I am so glad you said yes. I was very stressed about this.” He murmurs when you finally pull apart, foreheads pressed together while your noses brush. You sniff one more and he gently wipes away the tears, cooing in the softest voice as he consoles you.

The two of you hug and kiss for a while longer, unwilling to let each other go in the bliss of happiness and excitement that his proposal had engendered. Any worries you may have about being officially part of his family disappear finally, simply enjoying the moment with him and in awe of the fact that he loves you enough to marry you.

This guy, who you’d started talking to at a get together years ago simply because you were sat next to each, had become such an important part of your life and it genuinely shocked you to know that you’d become the same to him. He pulls away, reaching for the Sharpie and the photograph that had fallen to your lap.

Carefully, he writes on it before lifting it up to look at it with a smile. “I think that was a good proposal.”

Turning it, he lets you look at the photograph and you feel warmth blossom as you remember that he’d captured this moment. In the small picture, he’s grinning broadly, that mischief you’d grown so used to in his eyes, that he’d passed onto his daughters, very prominent while you stare at him in complete shock.

Along the bottom, he’s scrawled out ‘Will you marry me?’. Laughing, you kiss his cheek.

“Is this why you asked for this kind of camera?” He shrugs in response, expression mysterious and you just burrow yourself into side deeper.

“Happy Christmas sweetheart.”

“Happy Christmas.”

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