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#are kids that young supposed to remember stuff?
twicethetrouble · 2 years
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ANOTHER ROTTMNT AU that I probably won't write
Turtles are Lou Jitsu/Big Mama's kids before turtle mutation
- b/c why the hell not
 (Everything under the cut b/c apparently this is a long one)
start
- Basically Big Mama decides she'd rather have Lou join the battle nexus willingly than as a captive. (She likes the thing they have going on and would rather it not end anytime soon.)
- she introduced him to the Battle Nexus.
- After the shock wares off, he's fascinated by it. (The movies were great but he was getting bored.)
- Lou joins the Battle Nexus willingly and the two stay in a relationship (not married, just together.) (Some talk about how he's her pet champion but those that talk too loud end up disappearing.)
- As a result of their continued relationship, they end up having kids. 4 boys (the middle 2 being twins, of course)
(I can't decide if they have the same names or not so we'll skip that for now.)
- Now, a quick note for this AU. Part of the reason Yokai stopped interacting with humans was b/c whenever a hybrid was produced, they tended to be more human than Yokai. (Even more if a cloaking broach is involved. It throws in extra genetic variables so the offspring can end up inheriting traits from that as well.)
- The boys are no exception. They look human except for a few... oddities.
- Raph has the fluffy mint colored hair and red eyes of Big Mama's spider form. (Not fully red eyes.) He's also exceptionally strong, having once thrown a temper tantrum that resulted in throwing his entire crib across the room. He also likes to pick up his brothers and bodily carry them for no reason. Much to his parents panic upon finding the baby just missing.
- Leo is the oldest twin (by 2 minutes). He and Donny look the most human (with Lou's black hair and dark eyes) the only odditys being from the lavender purple spots on their skin they got from Big Mama's human form (think Leo's marks except more organic looking). (Tho they seemed to both start developing extra, spider like limbs by the time they're 1). Leo likes to follow around Big Mama whenever he can, often sitting on her lap during meeting and trying to mimic her facial expressions.
- Donny is the youngest twin. Again, mostly human looking. His purple spots are different then Leo (again his turtle markings but different, tho he does also have one over his right eye as well.) He is very frustrated about not having extra limbs like Big Mama. He is constantly wearing a spider themed backpack with little bouncy spider limbs as a result and will scream whenever it's removed.
- Mikey is the baby (obviously). He has Big Mama's human form hair and eyes, tho if u lift up his hair and there's 4 spider eyes on his forehead that he hasn't figured out how to open yet.
mutation day
- On mutation day, Raph is 2, the twins are a little over 1, and Mikey is 3 months.
- Draxum sends his gargoyles to grab Lou like originally planned.
- Huggins and Muggins arrive at the room, finding only the 4 boys asleep in their beds (Lou is currently arguing with Big Mama in another room about wanting to stop fighting for the boy’s sake.)
- Huggins and Muggins thinks one of the boys is Lou so, not knowing which it would be, grab all four.
- Draxum sees the four and realizes they’re Lou’s kids (but he’s not paying attention to gossip so he doesn’t realize they’re half yokai) and decides starting with a young human base might be more beneficial than an animal base.
- He has them each interact with the turtles he was going to mutate before mutating the children instead.
- Lou shows up just in time to see his boys mutated into turtles.
- Draxum is woefully unprepared for the fury Lou fights him with. He destroys the lab and steals his sons back, getting covered in mutagen as he does.
- He’s back in the NYC before he realizes that his boys are alright, just turtles, and that he’s now mutated into a rat-man.
- (Also that the mutation has overrode their yokai dna so they no longer have those traits)
- He can’t go back to Big Mama like this. He certainly can’t fight in the Nexus like this and she made it exceptionally clear that’s the only reason why she keeps him around (a lie but he doesn’t realize that)
- so he stays in the human world, eventually finding a decent place to hide in the sewers and raises his sons alone.
- he doesn’t talk about before they were mutated, keeping the only human(ish) picture he has of them hidden deep in the do-not-touch cabinet.
- If they assume they’ve always been turtles then, well, he doesn’t correct them. It was probably for the best anyways.
post mutation
-The boys were so young, they don’t really remember a before.
-Mikey definitely doesn’t.
- Leo doesn’t really either. His only memory being sitting on someone’s lap as they sat behind a big desk and made faces at weird men, but he assumes it’s just an old dream he can’t quite shake.
- Donny knows there was..something. He knows they used to look different (but not exactly how) and has a foggy memory of being caught pulling apart a new toy and a women praising him for being so smart. (he still is very much frustrated by lack of extra limbs, hence his spider limb battle shell, which was probably the first non-standard battle shell he designed.)
- Raph, without a doubt, remembers the most. He remembers they had a mom and how pops looked different back then. He remembers being chased by an owl man after escaping his  watch. But he also remembers how mutation day felt, and is forever grateful his brothers do not.
Series
- series doesn’t really change much
- Big Mama never knew her boys got mutated (instead thinking Lou had taken them and left after their fight) so 13 years later, when 4 turtle mutants start causing trouble for her, she is exceptionally confused as to why she immediately thinks of her lost boys.
A strong one in red, carrying his brothers without thought
A clever one in blue, who seems to see right through her tricks like his mind works just like hers.
A smart purple one with fake spider limbs.
And an smiling orange one who trust his brothers without fault.
- She tries to keep them at the hotel to figure out why, but Blue is too clever for that.
- It’s not until she meets Lou/Splinter again does she put the puzzle pieces together.
- She doesn’t quite believe it until Blue cons her in her own game.
-after that, i’m not sure what would happen. maybe she would sit back and watch them from afar? Maybe she would continue her plans for a weird “they’re my kids, i know they can handle the challenge” sort of way? Either way she knows now. And she’s not going to be able to pretend that she doesn’t.
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july-19th-club · 1 year
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me age seven being sat down in front of the school’s district child psych lady and being given strange, simple spatial puzzles to solve and then long, complicated worksheets and hammering my way through them at the speed of light while having zero comprehension what their purpose was or why i was here: this is urgent! i have to get a good grade in Weird Puzzles, Or Else, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve,
#kjalkjsdalkjasdl mrs button was a nice lady but not one adult in my childhood ever seemed to notice what to me now seems like#a pretty obvious case of the autisms#then again maybe they just didn't look as hard unless it was *really* obvious back then . it was like. what. 2000? a couple years later#everybody was talking about autism but not when i was six or seven then it was usually just when it was Very Visible#a couple years later my cousin who's more visibly on the spectrum than me got her diagnosis so young that she's pretty much always had it#which is...well i think it's just made her life difficult in a different way. people underestimate her or don't treat her like she's her age#but then she's always had the opportunity to get accommodations and people are sometimes more forgiving when she can't do something#whereas i got labeled 'kid that should be ahead of the game' from a pretty young age and then when i struggled adults either ignored it#or it was just a huge hassle to them and even i could see it exasperated them to have to work around me#but because mrs button (nice lady but what were you thinking) hadn't told them to treat me like a kid with a developmental disorder#they didn't do that in good OR bad ways . so i never got any accommodations with school stuff i struggled with which was a fair bit#i wasn't supposed to need extra testing time in a quiet room or tutoring with math or help organizing my abysmally scattered things#the only time i DID get that was in sixth grade when i was sort-of friends with this kid jonathan who was Very On The Spectrum#he wasn't really a talker unless it was about whatever he was reading which suited me fine so we just kind of existed in each other's space#and his TSS was this very smart and nice lady who had clearly clocked that Something Was Going On With Me and even though it wasn't like#her JOB she made a little bit of time for me. mostly with emotional stuff (i think i was under the impression she was a therapist?)#but if i had some problem with being unable to keep friends or being frozen out by the kids i wanted to be liked by (happened often)#she'd be able to just like. be there she'd make the time . wish i could remember her name
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wavesmp3 · 13 days
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young & stupid
yoon jeonghan x reader (gender neutral)
you think yoon jeonghan is crazy when he asks if you'll pretend to date him, but luckily for him you're just young and dumb enough to agree.
genre: university + fake dating au word count: 14k warnings: alcohol, profanity, some explicit content, mentions of sex, and a very american writer who says soccer instead of football a/n: posted an unfinished version of this like 4 years ago and randomly decided one day a couple weeks ago to finish it. this is the most indulgent fic i have ever written. pls enjoy my birthday gift to myself lolol
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Music bursts from every corner of the run-down frat house, chasing after you no matter where you run to escape it. Bodies endlessly spill in from the patio and front entrance, a never ending revolving door of college kids just like yourself looking for some kind of release after a long week of… well, college. But unlike most times you’ve paid a visit to Soonyoung’s frat house on a Friday night, tonight you’ve already decided that you are not going to be having fun at this party.
Soonyoung begged you to come, bribing your appearance with a promise to study with you for the next math quiz. Of course the first thing he does after walking into the house with you is ditch you. But even that, you deal with. You find some friends among the crowd, acquaint yourself with some beer, and almost start to have fun egging on a brewing dance battle. But all that ends the second you turn a corner too fast and are met with a full cup of bright red jungle juice all over your white shirt.
So now, upstairs in a bathroom Soonyoung let you in to, desperately trying to wash out the stains, you make a stubborn decision to not make another appearance at a frat party for the rest of the semester which you’re positive you’ll break by the time midterms are up.
But for now, helplessly staring at your reflection in the dirty mirror, you arrive to the conclusion that this damn jungle juice stain is not coming out. You exit the bathroom into the adjoining room and start grabbing your stuff to walk home.
“Who the fuck are you?” You jump at the voice that’s joined you in the room. You hadn’t even noticed anyone entering. You stare at the figure, mouth open. “How’d you get into my room?”
“Oh my gosh, so sorry,” you apologize in a hurried voice, packing your things up impossibly faster. “Soonyoung let me in. It was just supposed to be a quick thing–Wait no, that makes it sound like we were hooking up. Which we definitely were not. I can promise you that much, lol, not Soonyoung. But no, I just needed the bathroom. Cause this dude and his jungle juice, and…” you look down at your shirt. “Anyways, I was about to go home. I didn’t even–”
“Okay, wait, slow down.” The guy cuts you off. “You know Soonyoung.”
You nod. “Uh, yeah, we’re friends.”
He steps closer, narrowing his eyes at you, and for a moment you think the guy looks a little bit familiar. “And you’re not a stalker?”
This time you squint, jutting your head forward. “A stalker?” He stares at you unwavering. You scoff. “Um. No. Of course not.”
“Oh, okay, good.” He exhales, his previous demeanor falling entirely. “Well, in that case, let me help.” He walks towards one of the dressers, pulling the drawer open to rummage through it.
“No. That’s okay. You don’t have to–”
“Let me. Plus,” he gestures towards the general direction of your shirt without looking up from the drawer, “that can’t be comfortable. And it definitely isn’t flattering.”
You’re too stunned to say anything back. You’re not sure how you’d respond anyways to what you think counts as an insult from the dude who’s also helping you. You study him instead. You’ve definitely seen him around before, but you’re not entirely sure where or when because you probably would’ve remembered someone as attractive as him. He’s tall, soft-faced with longer hair that cuts off right under his ears, and damn is he attractive. In an obvious—in your face, weak in the knees, god this man is beautiful—kind of way. Not that you notice.
“Here.” He throws a tshirt your way, and you catch it between your arms. You both stare at each for a long moment, until he jumps on his heels a little as if he’s suddenly remembered something. “My bad, I’ll turn around.”
You stare unamused at his backside. He really doesn’t think you’re going to change with him in the room does he?
And almost as if he’s reading your mind, he says: “Don’t worry, I won’t peek.” He looks over his shoulder with a crooked, mischievous smile. “I mean unless you want me to.” Your stomach throws itself out the window.
You scoff. “I’ll just change in the bathroom.” You fully expect the guy to be gone by the time you exit the bathroom, but instead he’s still there, sitting at the edge of the bed on his phone.
You clear your throat. “Thanks for the shirt.”
“Oh, yeah,” he looks up from his phone and takes you in. You swear his mouth twitches into a half smile. “It’s no big deal.
You let out an awkward half laugh, half sigh. “So, I’ll get this shirt back to you somehow. Thanks again.”
He nods, still staring at the air around your body with that sickeningly charming half smile. You turn for the door.
“Wait!” You pause, facing the boy again who is now standing up, arm stretched out towards you. He drops it at once like it was never supposed to be there. “Are you going back to the party?”
You actually laugh at that. “God, no. I’m going home.”
“Oh.” He tilts his head, and then opens and closes his mouth as if the words keep getting lost in the back of his throat. You try not to think too hard about how endearing the action is. “I can give you a ride if you want.”
You shake your head quickly. “No, that’s alright. I don’t live that far.” You live on the opposite side of campus.
He grabs a set of keys off his desk. “Let me. I wanna get out of this party too. But sadly,” he motions to the room you’re both standing in, then leans towards you a little, “I live here.”
And you know you should refuse. You know there is nothing sensical about letting this stranger, whose name you don’t even know, take you home. But there’s something about his smile and the tufts of hair falling over his forehead, something about the way he gave you his shirt that makes you say yes against your better judgment.
It turns out, leaving the party with the mysteriously nice guy, who’s conveniently hot (again, not that you’re looking), is much harder than it looks. The only plus side to getting bombarded with people wanting to talk to him, is that you learn his name: Jeonghan. And it hits you then, of course you’ve seen him around before. Well, maybe not him, but you’ve definitely seen his picture. His face is plastered over all of the university’s promotional material. Half the school has a crush on Jeonghan, the star soccer player. Unfortunately for you and your apparently impossible wish to go home, it also appears that half the school is at this party and fueled with liquid confidence.
“Hey Jeonghan,” one person in particular slurs, appearing in front of you and him magically. Yeah, you think, if I were him I’d want to get out of this party too. Then as if the stranger has come to their senses, they jump back and clasp their hands over their mouth. A blush paints itself all over their face. “So sorry. I must’ve tripped or something…” they laugh awkwardly. Jeonghan does too. You look over at him and find that he looks incredibly uncomfortable.
“It’s fine,” he tells them, holding his hands up, “I gotta go. See you around though.” And Jeonghan’s turning on his heel ready to dash for the door.
“Wait a second!” The person calls, grabbing Jeonghan’s arm before he can slip out of the house. He turns back around begrudgingly. “I was uh I was sort of wondering if you’d like to maybe go out or something—“
You watch them ask out Jeonghan on a date, and well, it’s sort of cute. The stranger clearly harbors a massive crush on Jeonghan. They’re not being rude or pushy, and honestly, even after accounting for the alcohol, they’re more confident and bold than you’d be. You find yourself wanting to congratulate them. But then, with another look at Jeonghan’s face, you feel a burst of pity. You know that look. Jeonghan is going to turn them down.
“I, uh, I’m really flattered but I…” Jeonghan stutters through his words, shooting you a glance asking for help. You just shrug. Suddenly his smirk reappears. He grabs your hand, pulling you to his slide and lifting your joined hands up like a trophy. “I’m actually with them.”
Your teeth clench immediately to keep your mouth from falling open. You stare at Jeonghan, eyes screaming.
“Oh sorry,” the person looks between the two of you, “I didn’t know.”
You stare at Jeonghan, waiting for him to say something and failing to find any words for yourself. But instead of continuing his lie verbally, he decides to act it out even further, bringing your hands up to his lips and pressing the faintest kiss to your knuckle.
That fucker.
“Yeah,” you sigh, grasping at straws for something to say that sounds convincing with your one free hand. “It’s new.” You squeeze Jeonghan’s hand hard enough to know it has to have hurt and promptly drag him out of the house.
Once you’re in his car, safe from all his suitors. You round on him. “You couldn’t have just said no?”
“That was their third time asking me out.”
“And?”
“Turning down people is hard.” He whines, pushing the keys in the car and starting the ignition. “It was just easier to say we’re dating. Plus, you’re in my shirt so it already looks like we just had sex.”
“Or,” you gasp, exasperated, “it looks like I got jungle juice on my shirt, and you just gave me one to wear!”
He gives you a look. “Now, who would believe that?”
You have the sudden desire to dissolve into the seat.
“Anyways,” he says, putting the car in reverse, “where to?”
“East campus. The Austin Complex.”
He makes a triumphant noise while stopping at a red light. “It appears I’m not the only one that’s been telling lies tonight. Not that far you said.”
You gape at him. “My lie is not comparable to yours.”
“Actually I think it is.” He taps a finger to his chin. “In fact, I think it even makes us equal.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
He holds out his pinky as a peace offering. “I’m not moving until you agree.”
“Jeonghan, the light’s green.”
He glances at the green traffic light and proceeds to turn his hazards on in the middle of the fucking road all while keeping his pinky in the exact same spot.
“Are you crazy?”
“Most people don’t think so.”
“People will honk.”
“It’s 1 am.”
You say his name. He says yours. The light turns yellow, and you feel a rush of warmth.
“Fine.” You huff, joining your pinky with his. “We’re equal.”
He passes the light just as it turns red.
You haven’t seen Jeonghan since the entire incident. In truth, you’ve been so busy studying for your math quiz with Soonyoung that you almost hadn’t even thought about that night again. Emphasis on almost. However, when you get your score back the following week, the hours you spent studying appear to have been wasted. You slump into a bench outside the lecture hall, holding another barely passing grade to your chest.
And in the midst of your public wallowing, you feel a flick to your forehead.
You yelp and snap your eyes open to Jeonghan who stands before you snickering. “What was that for?”
“Payback.”
You say holding out your pinky as a reminder. “I thought we were even.” He shrugs, sporting a smirk that makes your stomach churn. It should be illegal for someone to look that good with a smirk.
“Excuse me?”
Fuck. Did you say that outloud?
“Nothing.” You quickly mutter, shaking your head. He invites himself to sit down next to you.
“Anyway, what’s wrong with you?”
You groan at the reminder. “Multi.”
“Multivariable calculus?” He asks to which you nod. “Who do you have?”
“Lubinsky.”
Defying all laws of reason and physics, Jeonghan perks up a bit. “Oh, I loved him.”
“His quizzes are impossible.”
“Yeah, but he’s funny.”
You scrunch your noise. “When did you even take multi? Aren’t you a business major?”
He tilts his head at you. “How do you know my major?” You might’ve asked Soonyoung about Jeonghan during one of your study sessions, but you definitely weren’t about to admit that now. Luckily for you, he continues without an answer. “I switched majors last year.”
“Then you must know how much I despise sketching in three axes.” You complain, throwing your head back against the wall.
“Just wait until you get to finding extrema.” Jeonghan hums. You want to shove your head through the damn wall just from the sound of it.
“May my grade rest in peace in that case,” you mutter, fishing through your bag. “Here’s your shirt back.”
He takes it. “So people kind of think we’re dating after the party.”
You can’t help it. You laugh at the look on his face. “Yeah, what did you expect when you said we were together?” He doesn’t say anything. “Don’t worry. I’ll clear the air.”
He furrows his brows at you. “What? No. That’s not what I mean. I…” he hesitates, scratching an area behind his neck. “Well, this past week has been surprisingly calm for me. Not a ton of confessions.” (“Oh, poor Jeonghan,” you murmur.) He looks at you hopefully, “So, I was thinking we keep up the charade.”
You make a noise. “Like fake dating?”
“Yes.”
“Haha, very funny.”
“No, seriously.” He says earnestly. You don’t say anything for a moment just staring at him flabbergasted. He softens, giving you a very soft, “please,” paired with big, brown, pleading eyes.
Goddamn it–those eyes.
You turn your body towards him. “What do I get out of it?”
“I’ll tutor you.” He says, pointing to your quiz grade. You flip the paper upside down. “I got an A in multi.”
“No one makes an A with Lubinsky.”
“Which is exactly why you want me as your tutor.”
You think about it for a moment longer, and, well…
Fake dating Yoon Jeonghan can’t be the worst thing in the world.
As you find out during your first session, Jeonghan is not what you’d call a ‘chill’ tutor. You’re both sitting in a far corner of the library, notes splayed out all over the table.
“Do it again.”
“Jeonghan please, we’ve been finding directional derivatives and unit normal vectors for so long now. Let’s take a break.”
He points to your worksheet. “One more.”
“That’s what you said last time.”
“I thought you wanted an A.”
“You know, a C isn’t sounding so bad right now.”
“Just do it.”
You groan and set up another integral.
To your complete and utter shock, you’re able to solve the problem all on your own. No clarifying questions to Jeonghan. No flipping through your lecture notes. Just you and the answer.
Jeonghan checks it over, eyes darting between your notebook and his laptop. He pauses for a minute, finger lingering by your boxed, final answer, before very quietly saying, “look at that.” He looks up to you, eyes widened and lips pursed together in a pleasant surprise.
You can barely contain yourself. “It’s right?”
“Well,” he draws out the word, sitting back in his chair and erasing his previous expression. “You still rounded wrong at this step—“
You throw your pencil down. “I’M RIGHT!”
Which unsurprisingly earns you a couple dirty looks from others.
He snickers at your excitement, offering you silent applause at the achievement.
“So can we take a break now?”
He looks at you for a long moment. You stare at him back, shaking your shoulders as if that would convince him of a break. He smiles. “Okay, fine, but only for ten minutes.”
You end up taking it on the roof of the library building, eating an assortment of snacks that you bought from the vending machine and Jeonghan brought from home.
“So, tell me,” you start, grabbing a chip from the bag, “the confessions can’t really be that bad, can they?”
“How do you mean?”
“I mean,” you sit up in your chair, stretching out your back, “enough for you to spend your Thursday afternoon doing all this?”
“Ah.” He exhales, sitting down further in his seat and popping a grape in his mouth. “Well, I like to teach.”
“And what about the whole fake dating ruse?”
He shrugs. “It’s easier than being the asshole that says no.”
You lean forward, squinting at him. “I don’t believe that.”
He cocks his head. “No?”
You shake yours. “No.”
“What about you then?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “How come I know nothing about you?”
“How come you haven’t asked?”
He swipes his tongue over his lips briefly, sizing your question up. Quietly, he says, “Touche.” Then leads forward in his seat and asks if you have an ex.
You steal a grape. “Not an official one.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that there was this guy before university, and we were…” you push the grape in your mouth, letting the burst of it give you time to find the right words. They never come. “We were something,” you settle on, “but he just ended up being more trouble than he was worth. Ask Soonyoung. He’s always hated the guy’s guts.”
“I can’t imagine Soonyoung hating anyone.” Jeonghan muses, pushing the tupperware of grapes towards you.
“Yeah, well, Soonyoung hated people who treated others like they were disposable.”
“So why’d you date him then?”
For a moment, you’re taken aback by the question. Replaying the words over and over in your mind looking for a hint of mockery or judgment. You don’t find any. Instead, you find his brows knitted together, and his lips pushed to the side of this mouth. The question is genuine. A wholehearted curiosity that feels so misplaced coming from the guy who has suitors falling at his feet at least once a day. It’s an innocent kind of curiosity that isn’t trying to pry; it’s only trying to understand. And that thought, the very idea that Jeonghan might actually be trying to get to know you, makes your entire body inexplicably shiver.
The curiosity in his voice bends over and touches yours. “What? You’ve never been young and stupid before?”
He shakes his head. “I was so focused on school and soccer when I was younger. I feel like I never gave myself the chance to just do dumb things, date shitty people, etc. etc.”
Gravely, you say. “It’s really not that exciting.”
He laughs. “I know.” His voice dips. “I just wish I had figured that out myself.”
Jeonghan doesn’t meet your eyes when he says it, but he makes this face, this sad-eyed, forced smile face that makes him look so suddenly vulnerable. Like you could tap his shoulder and watch him unravel from head to toe. You feel a rush of pity in the middle of your chest, a quiet urge to reach over and give him all the teenage regrets he never got to have. Instead, you lean towards him and say, “You’re still young. You can still do dumb things. Date shitty people.”
His eyes flit up to you. You notice what a beautiful shade of brown they are. How big they are. How sincerely sad they look. (And you know, somewhere, in a very far corner of your mind, that those eyes will be the ultimate death of you.)
“Well, I don’t know about that last part.” He starts, rubbing his hands against his jeans. “Technically, I’m dating you.”
You place your palm on your chest. “And I swear to be the shittiest fake partner you’ll ever have.”
He smiles. The sun emerges from behind a cloud. And his eyes–you swear to god–they glimmer.
You and Jeonghan’s first outing as an official fake couple is back at the frat house. To your surprise Jeonghan stays by your side the entire time. He takes you around the house, gets you a drink, and introduces you to his friends, but you’re quick to shoot down any shock because what else would a fake boyfriend be doing at a party. Although it’s not as easy to calm down the beating of your heart when Jeonghan’s hand finds its way into yours at some point in the night. By the time the party is in full swing, people bursting from every open door and window in the house, you’re already a little tipsy.
You’re getting a refill for your nearly done drink when another girl appears in front of Jeonghan. From the way she’s twirling her hair between her fingers and leaning into one hip, you can tell that, at least from her end, it’s more than just a friendly conversation. But even that doesn’t really explain what makes you act the way you do. Maybe it’s the alcohol, you reason. Or maybe the fact that Jeonghan’s popularity is just as contagious as the rest of him. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s that you’ve gotten a little too invested in this whole fake dating act. Either way, you swallow reason with the last of your drink, strut up to the both of them, and latch yourself to Jeonghan’s side, letting your arm wrap around his. You give the girl a snotty ‘sorry, he’s taken’ before dragging Jeonghan away, giggling into your palm with no intention to return. When you look back at Jeonghan, you find him looking quite amused as well.
“That was good!” He tells you by the time you’re both in the hallway. “But you know what would really seal the deal?”
You’re excited. Fake dating is fun. “What?”
“If we kissed?”
“Oh, please.” Your eyes do a drunken loop de loop. “I’m gonna go get my refill.”
“No, seriously.” He says with a look you can’t quite comprehend. “Look. She’s still watching.”
You look beyond his shoulder and sure enough, the girl is still watching you and him in the hallway. And she looks pissed. Maybe Jeonghan wasn’t that far off with the stalker accusation.
“You see what I have to deal with. Just one kiss. We probably won’t even have to do it again after this.”
“Probably?” You echo.
“Well, yeah, I can’t make any promises.” He shrugs except that you barely hear the words because you’re too focused on taking a tiny step back each time he takes a tiny step towards you. Eventually, the charade ends. Your heel and head meet the wall. His knee meets yours.
You’re painfully aware of your own breathing when you say, “When I said to be young and stupid this is not what I meant.”
He giggles in your face. You can smell the vodka on his breath. Is he drunk? Are you?
“Who’s going to believe we’re dating if we never kiss?”
And well, you can’t really argue with that logic. “Fine, but keep it short.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Do I look like the kind of guy to keep a kiss short?” You snort at that, and when he takes yet another step closer to you, your hands instinctively fly up against his chest. He tangles his fingers between yours and pulls your hands down, resting his forehead against yours. “Hey,” he says except that he’s so close it’s more like he exhales the word and inhales you, “can I kiss you now?”
He lets go of your hands, as if he’s making sure you know you have an out. Your eyes flit up to his, only to find that he’s watching your lips.
“Oh, fuck it,” is what you say before you fist his shirt and pull him in so that his lips meet yours.
And the moment you do all of your previous precautions are thrown out the window because—dang how long has it been since you’ve kissed someone?
Somewhere along the kiss, you lose yourself in the sensation of it, tugging on Jeonghan’s shirt. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in until your bodies are flush against each other. And when he slips his tongue into your mouth you tell yourself you allow it to happen because you’re tipsy or touch starved or both. Although none of those excuses explain why your arms snake around his neck and why your entire body turns to jelly when he moans in your mouth.
“Hey lovebirds,” you hear Soonyoung yell from somewhere thousands and thousands lightyears away, somewhere so far away you barely hear it, “get a room.” You both pull away from the kiss, faces only moving a tiny bit apart. Neither of you try to remove yourselves from the other's arms. He smiles, wide enough that his cheek brushes up against your nose, and it makes you forget where you are. Your ears betray you. You let yourself think he’s talking about the kiss and not the charade when he says, “Thanks for that.”
You throw caution to the window, laughing freely against his face. “Asshole. You knew I wouldn’t say no.”
He steps back, pulling away from your embrace. “Yeah,” he mutters, looking back to the main room, “that should do it.” You follow his eyes to see the girl from earlier whispering to a friend while sneaking glances at you two. You’re reminded of the whole reason you and Jeonghan were kissing in the first place.
He points to your cup. “Shot?”
You laugh—or well at least you try to—but it gets caught in your throat and distorted into a small cough. You swallow. “Yes.”
Thankfully, things aren’t awkward between you and Jeonghan after the party, although there’s no real reason for there to be other than the fact that you agreed to fake date him without really thinking about what else it would implicate. In fact, things are sort of easy with Jeonghan. He finds you around campus more often, and you find him too, walking each other to class and grabbing coffee when you both have a spare moment. In the midst of getting a fake boyfriend, you also get a new friend. With Jeonghan’s help, you actually start understanding math enough to complete the homework without having to flip back to the textbook every question. And it’s not too long after the party that you’re planning your next outing as a couple.
The stands of the field are absolutely packed with people. You had no idea soccer games rallied this much interest at your school.
“We’re playing a top ranked school apparently,” Soonyoung reads off a sign as you both make your way towards the student section. Luckily, he knows as little about the sport as you do. “So, why exactly did you agree to fake date Jeonghan?”
“He’s tutoring me in multi.” You explain to him, scanning the stands. While walking over to the game, you had told Soonyoung about the whole act, confirming what he already started to suspect when you first suggested going to the soccer game together. (“Drunken makeout I get.” Soonyoung had said. “But going to his games seemed like a stretch.” You shoved him off the sidewalk.)
“At least you’re getting something out of it.” He snorts. “Who are we looking for?”
You show him the text from Jeonghan, telling you to sit with his friend. “Do you know him?”
Soonyoung looks into the crowd. “Him?” He asks, pointing to a guy waving you and him over. You inhale sharply, waving back. “So if it’s fake, why is Jeonghan having you meet his friends?” Soonyoung asks as you head over.
“He has his reasons.” You offer, having asked a similar question yourself. You reach the stand where his friend is seated, crossing past the others in the row and gently apologizing as you bump into dozens of knees.
“Hi, I’m Joshua.” Jeonghan’s friend introduces himself as you and Soonyoung take your seats. You return the greeting, introducing yourself to him. Looking around the student section, you notice everyone else dressed in school merchandise. “Was I supposed to wear school colors for this?”
Soonyoung gives you a long look. Then just laughs in your face.
“Asshole.” You grumble quietly. “Could’ve said something.”
Joshua laughs as well, although much less in-your-face than Soonyoung’s. “I’m surprised Jeonghan didn’t give you like a jersey to wear or something.”
You had meant the asshole in question to be Soonyoung, not Jeonghan, but you don’t really have the heart to correct him. Instead, while waiting for the game to start, you ask, “How do you know Jeonghan?”
“Oh, we met freshman year. We both rushed the frat together, but I dropped after one semester.” Soonyoung pops in then, telling Joshua about when he rushed, and the two boys talk about other people they both mutually know. As one does.
They run out of people after a person named Jihoon. Joshua turns back to you. “How did you and Jeonghan meet? I haven’t even gotten the full story yet.”
“We met through Soonyoung, technically, I guess. At the house during a party. Soonyoung let me into his bathroom.”
Joshua nods, and with a playful lilt adds, “not a stalker, are you?”
You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth and turn back to Soonyoung on the other side of you. “I hope you know I’m never beating the stalker allegations because of you.”
Soonyoung smiles smugly at you.
“No, I’m kidding,” Joshua says through a laugh hidden behind his palm. “I just know how paranoid Jeonghan is about that stuff now.”
The wording pokes at a corner of your mind. “Now?”
Joshua nods, solemnly almost. “He actually had one last year. Didn’t end up being anything seriously endangering luckily. But he barely left his dorm for the rest of the semester after all was said and done.”
You think back to your conversation with Jeonghan on the roof of the library. You feel a familiar pang of pity bloom in your chest. He never got to just be young. Outloud, you hear yourself saying, “stupid.”
Joshua leans towards you. “What?”
You wave it off, and the crowd erupts into cheer. Everybody starts standing up, yelling and jumping and whooping. You hesitate for too long obviously. Soonyoung pulls you up by your arm. You see the team rush the field and the crowd gets impossibly louder. You look for Jeonghan among the players scanning each of them until you find him towards the left side of the field, warming up or something. You’re not really sure. Either way, you hear yourself start cheering when you find him, hands cupping around your mouth. The game starts soon enough with Joshua explaining to you and Soonyoung which position Jeonghan plays and what the hell is happening each time a player receives a card. After the first 15 minutes, you actually get a pretty good understanding of the whole thing.
The first half comes to a close with the opposing team up by one goal and Jeonghan’s team looking exhausted and dispirited.
“Hey, I gotta head out.” Soonyoung tells you once everything has settled down for halftime. “Still have to finish that chem lab due tonight.”
You grimace at the reminder of the report. “Good luck. It took me 5 hours.”
He gives you a miserable thumbs up. Then, turns his attention to Joshua. “It was nice to meet you.”
Joshua returns the sentiment. “I’ll see you at Tim’s once you’re done with the report though, right?”
Soonyoung’s lips turn to a fine line. “I, well, it’s a funny story but uh…”
“He’s banned from Tim’s.” You finish for him.
Joshua does not hide his shock. Soonyoung just shrugs and walks off. Joshua turns to you, exasperated. “But it’s the only bar in town.”
You inhale, “And Soonyoung is the type to get impulsively banned from it for the rest of college.” The answer doesn’t seem to do much of anything for Joshua’s profound confusion. “What’s at Tim’s tonight?”
“Oh, the team always goes there after games. They normally invite some friends too. Whoever can make it out basically.” You nod at his explanation, watching as people leave the stands then return, holding steaming, paper cartons of food. God, that smells good. You crane your neck to see. Are those corn dogs? “Did Jeonghan not tell you about it?”
“What?” He pulls you out of a trance of your own. “Oh, yeah, yeah. I think he mentioned it. I probably just forgot.”
Joshua chuckles politely. “So are you coming?”
Oh crap. “Uh, well…” A million lies run through your mind, chasing past one another, zigzagging in your brain. You have homework. You have other plans. You and Jeonghan aren’t even actually dating. Well—a million lies and one truth you guess. Either way, they all fizzle to nothing. Jeonghan didn’t tell you about the tradition at Tim’s. He probably doesn’t even want you there. So what the hell are you supposed to tell his best friend?
Luckily, you never have to figure that out. Fanfare erupts through the crowd, the announcer sounds throughout the entire field. “Oh the game’s restarting,” you mutter. Joshua is either genuinely disinterested in your response or just polite enough to not ask about it again. You have a crummy feeling it’s the latter.
The second half of the game is much more intense than the first. Your school’s team comes out blazing, scoring a goal in the first ten minutes in an insane effort led by the player with a 7 on his back. And the crowd, you included, absolutely lose their shit. You’re jumping up and down on the stands, screaming at the top of your lungs, voice lost among the rest. The team rushes to the right corner of the field closest to the student section, colliding in hugs and jumps and screaming maybe even louder than the hundreds of you in the stands. You watch Jeonghan in the celebration, hair matted down with sweat, mouth ajar in a soundless cheer, embracing a teammate before ditching him to literally jump on top of another. Your yells turn to laughs. And before you know it, the game is back on, all players racing across the field in a mad dash. The ball goes flying. Penalty cards flying to nearly every player at least once. The entire student section is at the edge of their seats. Time seems to fly by with unified chants filling your ears and throat. There’s only 10 minutes left. The game is still in a tie, and you really don’t feel like sitting here for the extra time. Then, someone starts singing the school’s fight song. Eventually, the whole section is singing it. You included. It ignites something in the team.
The opposing team has the ball, dribbling it across the field and passing it back and forth. Out of nowhere, one of your school’s players appears right next to the opponent with the ball. He kicks the ball out from under the other player, taking him and the rest of the stands by surprise. The ball rolls from under his knees to another of your school’s players. Jeonghan’s teammate is in action immediately, sprinting away with the ball to the opposite side of the field, feet flying faster than your mind can even comprehend. And just as one of the opposing team’s members closes in on him, he punts the ball in the air and it flies and flies and flies. Your heart lurches. There’s no mistaking it–the ball is aimed for Jeonghan. 7 minutes left. Jeonghan receives the ball perfectly, immediately racing away with it towards the goal. An opponent chases after him, forcing him to head nearer and nearer to the touchlines. It all happens so fast. The other player kicks his feet out to steal the ball. Jeonghan crosses the ball over to another teammate. The teammate receives it with his head. He dribbles it forward for half a second and then shoots. Time nearly stops when he does. The goalie throws their entire body to block the ball, and every present body watches, stupefied, as the ball blows right past the goalie’s head and lands squarely within the goal.
And if you thought the previous goal’s celebration was loud, this one’s is deafening. The entire stadium roars in pride. Your school won. Jeonghan won. And you can’t stop fucking smiling.
Joshua convinces you to wait for Jeonghan and the rest of the team at Tim’s with him. You do. For matters of fake dating but also because you could really use a beer. Conversation with Joshua is fun and light. By the time you’re both on your second round, his politeness dims to tease you for your drink of choice. You see now why he’s one of Jeonghan’s closest friends.
There’s commotion towards the entrance. You turn your heads towards it and watch Jeonghan’s team rumble through the tiny door, yelling at god knows what and rushing to the bar.
Joshua stands to go say hi. You follow him, walking slightly behind. Jeonghan finds you before you both find him. He tackles Joshua first, hugging him from the side, and literally ‘whooping’ into his ear. Joshua smacks at his face at first, but eventually joins him in the repeated ‘whooping’ jumping up and down in celebration. Then Jeonghan sees you. The whooping fades. He stares.
You swallow.
“Yah!” He exclaims, releasing Joshua and pointing a finger at your shirt. “I thought I told you to wear the jersey I gave you.”
Your face drops. Whatever happened to ‘hi’, ‘hello’, ‘how are you’?
Joshua says something about the bathroom and walks to the back of the bar.
You shake your head at the remaining boy. “It’s a little bit concerning how good you are at lying, you know.”
“Well, we can’t have people suspecting us.” He retorts, stepping closer to you as someone passes behind him.
“Is it okay that I’m here?” You ask, quiet enough for no one else to hear, face scrunching. “I didn’t know what to say to Joshua earlier, but I can definitely make up a lie if you want to just–”
“Are you kidding?” He grabs you by the shoulders, shaking you back and forth. “I want you here! We have to celebrate. This was the biggest game of the season, and we won it!” Then, with that same crooked smile you noticed upon first meeting, he adds, “Plus, you’re not very good at lying.”
You scoff. “Even now, you have the capacity for assholery.”
His eyebrows zip together. “I don’t think that’s a word.”
“It could be.”
Someone pats Jeonghan on the back, handing him a drink. Jeonghan asks what it is. The other person tells him to just drink it. Jeonghan does so begrudgingly. You recognize the person to be player number 7.
“Hi, I’m Seungcheol,” number 7 says to you, holding out his hand. You shake it, introducing yourself and congratulating him on the game.
“Hey, is assholery a word?” Jeonghan asks his teammate, watching your face contort through a thousand different variations of annoyance and disbelief.
Seungcheol looks between the two of you. “Uh, no. Don’t think so.”
“Ha!” Jeonghan wags a finger in your face. “You owe me a drink.”
You narrow your eyes at him, but you head towards the bar with Jeonghan anyways, where you find Joshua again ordering the three of you a round of shots. “No, no,” he insists, when you try to tell him that you’re already buying drinks, “I owe Jeonghan a drink anyways.”
And as you find out throughout the course of the night, apparently every other patron at Tim’s owes Jeonghan a drink. You lose count of how many times you’ve heard him say so after your third beer. Joshua makes his exit soon after that and conveniently right before the team starts singing the fight song again. You start dreaming of bed when a guy you recognize as number 3 gets on a chair and starts leading the crowd.
Your phone buzzes.
Soonyoung [1:23 AM]: finished the report :0
Soonyoung [1:23 AM]: finally
Soonyoung [1:24 AM]: how’s tim’s
You [1:24 AM]: did you know they had a karaoke machine?
Soonyoung [1:25 AM]: do you not remember how i got banned in the first place
You [1:25 AM]: sore subject mb
You [1:27 AM]: damn how’d you finish the report so fast
You [1:27 AM]: you only started it after the game right
Soonyoung [1:28 AM]: u know me xD
An odd feeling settles in your stomach as they start the last stanza of the fight song. You shove your phone in your pocket and ask for the check.
By 2 am, the celebration is finally winding down, and the entire team is collectively too drunk to stand. “Come on, Jeonghan,” you pull him away as he says goodbye to his friends for the millionth time. “Let’s go home.”
He finally relents, turning away from his friends and throwing both his arms over your shoulders, hugging you from the back. “Let’s go to yours.”
“Mine? Why?”
“It’s closer.” Then after a moment, he bumps his chin against your shoulder and adds, “Plus, I wanna see your room.”
“Fine,” you huff and start walking. Jeonghan releases himself from your back, electing to walk on his own until you realize he’s too much of a wanderer to be unattached, drifting off to the edge of the sidewalk or in the wrong direction every chance he gets. He asks you to carry him. You settle for holding his hand. The two of you walk quietly back to your dorm. That is until Jeonghan starts humming the fight song again. You snap. “Is that the only song you guys know tonight?”
He stops humming and apologizes. You don’t say anything back. Then, very quietly, sounding so infuriatingly innocent, he says, “I didn’t mean to get this drunk.”
You’re an asshole. “No. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m just a little… upset right now.”
He burps. “Because of me?”
The look on his face when he says it pulls a laugh from between your lips. “No. Not because of you.” You make a right onto your street, dragging Jeonghan along as he tries to take a left. “Anyway, I thought student athletes weren’t supposed to drink.”
“No, we’re not supposed to get caught drinking.” Jeonghan holds out his hand in front of him, as if to say ‘stop’ to something invisible to you. “Very different.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Either way, I don’t drink that much.”
You scoff, stopping in front of the door to your building. “What do you mean? You drank last weekend.”
He shakes his head. “That was a special occasion.”
“And the occasion was…?”
He looks you dead in the eye.
“You make me nervous.”
Then, he turns around and vomits into the bushes behind him.
Once you get him to your apartment and in your bathroom, you leave him to vomit out the alcohol. Returning after the retching sounds recede and you’ve changed into pjs. He’s seated on the floor beside the toilet, eyes closed and head resting against the wall. You sit on the other side. Thank god, you cleaned this bathroom yesterday. “How do you feel?” You ask him.
He inhales. “Much better now that I…” He gestures to the toilet.
“Here.” You hand him a glass of water.
He opens his eyes and takes it, drinking from it slowly. “Sorry I got so drunk.”
“You already apologized 30 times on the way up here.” You remind him.
“But I’m really sorry.”
“And I really don’t mind.”
He considers that for a long moment. “You sure?”
You lean forward. “I’m sure. More water?”
He shakes his head, wordlessly eyeing your pajama pants. You look down at your snoopy pants. You hadn’t thought too hard about your choice of bottoms when you changed. “Cute.” He mutters, smiling at them.
You mumble back a ‘thanks’.
“So, what’d you think of the game?”
You tell him honestly how much fun you had watching them play, giving him every reaction you had to every move made and all your unfiltered opinions on the refs. He listens intently, filling you in on all the thoughts that ran through his head while they were playing and every conversation that happened on the sidelines.
“Thanks for coming.” He tells you once you’ve both exhausted all opinions relating to the game itself. “And for meeting Joshua and coming out to Tim’s afterwards and then getting me out of Tim’s too.”
“Jeonghan, it’s really not that big of a deal. And Joshua was a lot of fun to hang out with.”
“Hey, don’t get too attached.” He warns. “I’m the one you’re fake dating.”
“Trust me, I know.”
“So, then, as your fake boyfriend,” he gulps down the last of the water, “are you going to tell me what you were so upset about?”
You exhale, flexing your fingers. “It’s stupid.”
“And here I was thinking we had made a pact to be young and dumb.” You run your tongue over your top row of teeth, holding back a smile. “So, what happened?”
“I just got this text from Soonyoung that he finished this one assignment. And, I don’t know, I just felt so ridiculous because it took me so much longer than him to do.”
“Which assignment? The chem lab?”
You don’t remember telling Jeonghan about it. “Uh, yeah. How did you–”
“Man, who cares if it took you longer? I know Soonyoung, and I know you, and I bet yours is a million times better than his. No offense to Soonyoung, but I’m pretty sure he’d agree anyways.”
“Okay, you’re drunk.”
“That may be true, but it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re brilliant.”
Something about the way he says it, how steady his voice is maybe or the way he refuses to look away, forces you to see how much he believes it. But even that, doesn’t do much to change what you think.
“What are you talking about? I wouldn’t even be passing multi if it weren’t for you.” Your voice cracks as you say the words, making it all come out sounding much sadder than you had intended it to. You hope he doesn’t notice.
“That’s really not true.” You can’t even trust yourself to respond to him. He pouts. “Are you upset again?”
“A little.”
“I’m sorry. Let’s drop it.”
“Gladly.” Then, after a moment, you laugh at how silly it all is.
“First fight of the relationship.” He gives you your second half smile of the night. “I think we should hug it out.”
Your body reacts to the words before you do. “I disagree–”
“Did you just cringe?”
“–you smell like vomit.”
“Well, do you have clothes for me?”
“No, but I have a couch.”
He holds his index finger up. “I’ll take it.”
(When you wake up the next morning, Jeonghan’s gone. You open your phone and find 2 more apologies and 3 more thank you’s from him.
You try to ignore the twinge of disappointment.)
When the third weekend of fake dating rolls around, you admittedly are a bit tired of going to parties and getting drunk. So when Jeonghan asks what the plans are, you suggest he say that he’s taking you out on a date instead.
As such, you’ve spent nearly the entire day in bed. You’re heating up some water on the stove to make ramen when you get a text from Jeonghan saying he’s five minutes away. You stare at the text. The fuck does that mean?
Unsurprisingly, it ends up meaning that he was literally five minutes away. You open the door when he knocks and stare at him standing in the doorway.
“What are you wearing?” Is the first thing he says. You look down at your outfit. “You should’ve told me this was going to be a sweats kind of date before I put real clothes on.”
“Date?”
“Don’t look so surprised, it was your idea.” Jeonghan reminds you, strutting into your kitchen.
“No, no.” You say, returning to your boiling water. “My idea was to tell people we’re going on a date. Like as a cover.”
“Oh.” He falls down onto your couch. “Well I’m here so get dressed there’s this new ramen place I wanna try.”
You sigh, turning the stovetop off before trudging to your room to change.
The ‘date’ ends up being quite nice. You discuss a study plan to prepare for your math midterm over a much yummier bowl of ramen than you had planned on consuming today. Afterwards, you walk the streets of downtown, only intending to window shop. However, now, standing in a small boutique, Jeonghan tries to convince you to buy matching necklaces.
“Come on, they’re so cute.”
“We don’t need matching necklaces, Jeonghan.”
“A real couple would definitely have matching necklaces.”
“Good thing we’re not one.”
“Fine then. Guess I’ll just stop tutoring you in math too. You know Lubinsky’s midterms are almost as hard as his finals, right?”
You grab two of the necklaces and turn to the cashier. “How much?” You swear you hear Jeonghan whoop from behind you.
“Hey,” Jeonghan whispers, “we’re here.” You open your eyes slowly, not even registering that you fell asleep on the ride back to campus after the date-but-not-date. “You drool when you sleep by the way.”
And that wakes you up. You wipe whatever drool is left on your mouth, muttering a small and embarrassed ‘shut up’.
“What are you doing for the rest of your day?” He asks as you gather your things from his car.
“Absolutely nothing. Today’s the last day to rot before midterm prep starts.” You tell him, looking for your wallet. “What about you?”
“Avoiding a mixer at the house tonight.” He reaches into the center console and hands you the leather slip.
You take the wallet gratefully. “Wanna join me? We can make some tea. Watch a movie.”
He puts the car in park. “I know just what we should watch.”
And that’s how you end up on your couch with Jeonghan, two emptied mugs sitting on the coffee table, blanket draped over your legs, and the worst movie you’ve seen to date playing in the background.
“Wow, this movie sucks ass.”
“This,” Jeonghan gestures passionately to the screen, “is cinema.” You clasp your hands together as if in prayer. He takes a double take at the motion. “What are you doing?”
“I’m thanking god that your major is business and not film.” He immediately smacks apart your hands. “Don’t lie.” You say gasping for air between laughs. “This movie is objectively not good.”
His tongue peeks out between his lips, you practically see the smiling begging to emerge on his face. “Okay, so it might not be all that it was hyped up to be, but–”
“Ha!” You point a finger in his face. “I knew you hated it.” He slumps into the couch, pulling the blanket up to his chin. “Do you want more tea?” You ask. He soundlessly nods, refusing to move his eyes from the tv screen.
You stand to make some, grabbing both mugs from the table. “So, do you not have a roommate?” Jeonghan questions, as you pour water from the kettle into the mugs.
You look to the second, empty room of your apartment style dorm. “Actually, no. There was supposed to be someone there, but they moved or dropped out at the start of the year and the school never filled the room.”
“Ah.” Jeonghan clicks, nodding as if finally putting together the last piece of a puzzle “So, that’s why you’re so friendless.”
You return to the couch with full mugs. “I am not friendless.” He makes a face. “Really. I have friends.”
“Other than Soonyoung?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, name them.” You kick him under the blanket. “Fine. You have friends.” (“I have friends.”) “But how come you never talk about hanging out with them?”
You exhale slowly, sinking further into the couch. “I just didn’t do too well in school last semester, so I promised myself I would focus on classes this time around. And, I don’t know, I guess I just got so caught up in that and haven’t really been making the time or effort for hangouts.”
He tilts his head. “You know, I feel like there’s a world where you can do well in school while also maintaining your friendships. I mean we see each other regularly.”
“That’s because half of the time we’re studying.”
He gives you a look. “You know what I mean.”
You sigh, considering his point. Maybe at one point you would have thought the same. Last semester you even tried to have it all–the friends, the social life, the grades. But in the end, you dropped the ball. You can’t afford to make those same mistakes. “I just don’t think that world exists for me.”
He finally looks away from the tv and gives his full attention to you. His eyes seem to linger on every turn in your face. Quietly, he says, “So that’s what it is.” He doesn’t offer an explanation immediately. Instead, his chest deflates in one long exhale, and you smother the voice in your head that’s begging you to ask for one. And there’s this conviction in his voice, this breathtaking finality, when he says, “When are you going to believe me when I say that you’re one of the smartest people I know?” that scares the living shit out of you.
He looks at you again, and you swear to god, his eyes fall right through your frame. You swallow. “What about you?”
His eyebrows raise. “What about me?”
“Who are your friends? How do you spend all your time apart from classes, soccer, the frat, tutoring me and–oh my god, nevermind, new question. Do you even sleep?”
He takes a sip from the tea. “Don’t forget the business honor society. I’ll be the treasurer next fall.”
You squint at him. “Why?”
And like it’s the simplest, most obvious thing in the world he says, “oh, well, they asked.”
Suddenly, you’re reminded of all the times you’ve seen him get asked out on dates followed by every time he’s failed to say no. “Jeonghan,” you turn to him, setting down your mug. (“oh, this is serious, okay.”) You ignore him. “Can you not say no to people?”
He blows a raspberry. “I can say no. Ask me something.”
“Uhhhh,” you rack your brain, “how about–let’s go to the beach next weekend.”
The closest beach is 5 hours away, and yet he has the audacity to say, “Wait, that sounds like fun though.”
“I thought you hated the ocean.”
“Yeah, but maybe it’d be fun with you.”
You shake your head, muttering how impossible he is. The end credits of the movie finally plays.
“I should head out.” Jeonghan says, removing himself from under the blanket. You nod, grabbing the mugs of tea and bringing them to the kitchen. He follows you to the door. You both exchange the usual ‘this was fun’, ‘let’s do it again’, ‘I’ll see you later’ that ends every hangout you’ve had in college. But then, unlike every other person you’ve held the door open for as they leave, after Jeonghan says his final goodbye, he gives you a peck on the lips.
Did that just happen?
Your fingers touch against your lips. Oh my god, it did.
He blinks. “Sorry. I, uh, I don’t know why I just,” he points to your lips, swallowing, “lol. We’re always pretending and then now. And you. Okay, well, anyways, I’ll leave.”
He turns and doesn’t look back. You hear a ‘bye’ sound from the hallway.
And it’s only by the time he’s probably halfway home that it hits: You’ve never seen Jeonghan flustered like that.
The first day of midterm prep is brutal. You spend the entire night in the library, studying for hours on end. And once an hour, on the dot it seems, you hear Jeonghan’s voice in your head. There’s a world where you can do well in school while also maintaining your friendships. That very night you text your friends, asking if they want to join you in one of the library study rooms you have booked every evening this week. They do, excited to hear from you again and for the gentle encouragement to get a head start on studying. You hate to admit that Jeonghan was right, but goddammit he was. You have a blast with your friends. You had barely even realized how long you’d gone without seeing them and how much you missed them. By the time your Thursday afternoon tutoring with Jeonghan comes back around, you’re still on track with the study plan you created over ramen, and you have exciting news for him.
“A birthday party?” Jeonghan says, voice carefully devoid of the disdain you must know he feels.
“Yeah, they heard through whoever that we’re dating, and now they all want you to come.”
“But a birthday party?” He repeats. This time not trying to hide anything.
“Oh come on. I went to the game for you.”
“Yeah, but the game was fun.”
“This will be fun too!” You say in what you hope is an encouraging way.
“Fine. But promise you won’t ditch me for your friends.”
“You’re so dramatic.” You mutter. “But yes, I promise.”
That Friday night Jeonghan meets you at your apartment and the two of you head over to the party together.
Halfway down the hallway to your friend’s apartment, Jeonghan suddenly halts. “Shit, should I have brought something?”
“Like what?”
“A gift? Wine? I don’t know.”
“Jeonghan, it’s a party. Don’t overthink it.” You tell him, opening the door to your friend’s apartment.
You step into her entryway and immediately feel like you’ve been transported into another world. The lights are all off save for some LED lights wrapped around the living room ceiling. An assortment of stacked red solo cups, yak-worthy bottles of vodka, and seltzers take over all available kitchen counter space. Some old pop song from an artist you know your friend loves plays loudly from the tv, reverberating through every pair of ears shoved into this tiny apartment. You inhale. The air reeks distinctly of college. You love it.
“Oh my god, there’s even people on the balcony.” Jeonghan whispers in your ears. You pivot your head around to look at him. He looks back at you, unassuming. “What?”
This entire scene is one you’re quite familiar with, having spent many nights just like this in previous semesters. But as you watch Jeonghan gape at the amount of people fitted into the kitchen alone, you figure he might not be as acquainted with this. “Yoon Jeonghan, is this your first apartment party?”
He cocks his head to the side. “Is it not yours?”
But before you can tell him all about the life you used to live before him, your friends find you attacking you with hugs and introducing themselves to Jeonghan.
Jenny, the birthday girl in question, sloppily points at both of you and says, “I’ve been drinking since noon. You need to catch up.”
After a minute of half-hearted protest, you oblige, heading over to the kitchen area. You grab two cups, handing Jeonghan one. “There’s soda over there if you’re not drinking tonight,” you tell him, pointing to the area beside the sink where a line of mixers await.
He looks over at the bottles, then looks back at you. “Are you drinking?”
“Yes!” Your friend Daniel yells from over the music. You just shrug, reaching for one of the handles. “I guess so.”
Jeonghan inhales sharply, holding out his cup for you to pour. “I’ll have what you’re having then.”
You hesitate, open bottle hovering over the lip of his cup. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Why?”
You frown. “I was thinking about what you said after the game about how you don’t drink that much, and I don’t want you to drink just because I am. I can not drink too.”
He pushes his cup up. “What was it you said earlier? It’s a party. Don’t overthink it.”
Then he gives you that crooked half smile that you’ve come to know so well. You pour him a drink and pour yourself one too. You turn back to your friends, holding up your cup for a cheers.
“Wait, wait, what are we cheersing to?” Daniel asks, grabbing his cup from behind him and holding it up, tapping on Jenny’s shoulder for her to do the same.
It’s Jeonghan who answers. Looking straight at you, he holds his cup up high and says, “To friends.”
You bring the drink up to your lips smiling, watching him watching you. All four of you down your drinks. The drink is absolutely terrible, burning a path down your throat all the way down. Jeonghan hands you another cup, whispering ‘it’s coke’ with an equally pained expression on his face. You take it gratefully.
“God,” Jenny says, placing a hand on her chest while watching the exchange between you and Jeonghan, “they’re like an old married couple already. How have we missed all this?”
“I know.” Daniel says, shaking his head. “I can still barely believe it.”
You glare at him. “Hey, what’s so hard to believe?”
They both ignore you, turning their attention to Jeonghan instead.
“So, we’ve heard all the boring–how you guys met, first date–sort of stuff, but we want to know the juicy details–”
“Jenny, don’t you have other guests to attend to or–”
“Yeah,” Daniel joins in, “like what’s your favorite thing about them?”
You turn to Jeonghan immediately. “You don’t have to answer that.”
“My favorite part,” Jeonghan starts, ignoring your plea to not humor them and tapping a finger on his chin in thought. He must find it after a moment, pausing the tapping and stealing a glance your way. “Probably how much fun I have with them.” He says to your friends. “I feel like we’re always laughing together or just having a good time. I’ve never been able to talk to someone as easily as I do with them. Like you know how when you get towards the end of a really good book, and you just can’t put it down, pushing everything else to the side to keep reading. Hanging out with them is like that.” Turning back to look at you, he adds, “I never want it to end.”
You hold his gaze while Jenny and Daniel erupt into a series of awes and exclamations. Deep in your gut, you know that you should be focusing on the kind smile on his face or the sudden rapidity in your heartbeat, but instead, more cruelly, you wonder how much of that was a lie he made up to appease the role of your fake boyfriend.
You turn to pour yourself another drink. He holds his cup out as well. You pour for two.
“You okay?” He asks, pouring some fruit punch into both your cups as well.
You nod. You have no reason to be upset. So taking a sip of the drink, you decide you’re not. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“We should play a game,” he says, taking a sniff of your jointly made concoction.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, like…” He looks around the apartment. “We have to drink every time we see someone kissing.”
“What kind of rule is that?”
“No. It’ll be fun.” He says, scanning the apartment again. He sucks in air between his teeth. “Damn, I thought there’d be more kissing than this for some reason.”
You laugh at his cluelessness, and then lean in to kiss his cheek. “There.” You say, clinking your cup against his. “Now, we can drink.”
He taps a finger to the tip of his nose twice, then points it at you, before taking two large gulps of his drink.
The game actually does a good job of getting you and Jeonghan drunk once Jenny catches wind if it and starts giving out birthday kisses to whoever will take one. After a while, you make the executive decision that you need a break and escape to the bathroom to piss. When you exit back into the hallway off the living room, Jeonghan is there, leaning against the opposite wall, waiting for you. He hands you your cup back. “Your friends are terrible, terrible enablers,” he says, motioning for you to drink up while taking a drink himself. You whimper, leaning against the wall beside him and readmitting the dreaded liquid to your body.
“So,” you bump your shoulder against his, “are you having fun?”
He shifts his entire body to face you, shoulder resting against the wall, back turned to the entire party. He puts his face right in front of yours, narrows his eyes at you playfully, and says, “did you even listen to what I said?”
You put a hand on his shoulder. Just to have something between his body and yours. “What?”
He grins cheekily, letting out a puff of air that smells like cherry. “I always have fun with you.”
You laugh. Then in a voice sober you would be embarrassed of, you say, “And you never want it to end?”
He sticks his tongue out just barely, laughing into your neck. “And I never want it to end.”
You kiss him.
You don’t stop to think about what it might mean tomorrow or even in the next hour. You don’t stop to think about the fact that you’re too drunk to be initiating kisses or the possibility that he is. You don’t stop to think about anything, other than how much you love the sound of his laugh and how badly you want to feel his lips on yours again.
The kiss starts slowly, a shy orchestration of lips and breath. Your nose bumps against his, and he pulls away. He looks at you with those damn eyes, like it’s the first time all over again. And for some reason you can’t explain you bitterly think that it was always going to end like this.
He cups his free hand against your cheek and pulls you back in. Your lips meet in an open-mouthed kiss that has nothing slow and shy about it. No. It’s sloppy, hurried, and hungry. It’s tongue and teeth, crashing and colliding over and over again. It’s your body against his, every rise of your chest battling against his You wrap your free hand against his torso, pulling him impossibly closer. His hand moves from where it was holding your face to travel over the back of your head and your neck, sliding halfway down your back before pulling forward to run from your waist down to your hip. It lingers there for a moment before continuing further to grip the back of your thigh, pulling your knee up the side of his leg and holding it there against his hip.
A commotion sounds from the living room. “Oh shit.” You say breathlessly, pulling away from him. “I think she’s going to pop the champagne.”
“Okay.” He breathes, before kissing you again. You laugh in his mouth, whispering his name and pushing a hand against his chest. Finally, he lets go of your leg. You lead him back to the rest of the party where everyone is crowding around the balcony entrance. You and Jeonghan stand in the living room, watching from the window as Jenny struggles to pop the cork. She gets it after a moment, yelping at the sudden burst and spraying it over the edge of the balcony. Once the champagne dies down enough to not be overflowing, she brings the bottle to her lips and chugs. Everyone counts.
1! Jeonghan steps closer to you, wrapping his arms around your torso and hugging you from the back. You have to remind yourself to catch your breath.
2! He rests his chin on your shoulder. Without even thinking about it, you rest your head against his. His voice is a warm breath on your neck.
3! You recall what he said to your friends at the start of the party and again to you right before the kiss. Did he mean it? Does he really not want this to end?
4! Your eyes glance over at his. He looks happy. He looks like he’s finally given himself the chance to be young and stupid, which from the start, is all you ever wanted for him. So then why does it make you feel so suddenly grief-stricken?
5! “Why didn’t you tell Joshua about us?” You ask him quietly, voice drowned out by the counting for everyone other than him.
6! He angles his chin towards you. “What do you mean? He knows we’re dating.”
7! “No, I mean why didn’t you tell him that it’s fake.”
8! He stands up straight. Fuck the counting. You turn to look at him. “He’s your best friend, isn’t he?”
9! He looks at you carefully. “Did you tell Soonyoung that it’s all been fake?”
10! You haven’t even answered him yet, but somehow, he already knows what you’re going to say.
11! “Yes.” And even alcohol couldn’t have hidden the distinct look of betrayal painted all over his face.
12! He looks down into his cup and chuckles darkly. “Why did we just kiss?”
13! You swallow. Shit. “Someone was looking at you, like–well, you know what like.”
14! He doesn’t say anything. You recount his words back to him. “Sealing the deal, remember.”
15! His eyes bore into yours. How could you have been so stupid?
16! Please, you want to beg, say something.
17! He shakes his head, smiling emptily. “Tell your friends it was nice to meet them.”
18! He doesn’t wait to hear if you have anything left to say. He turns, and you watch him disappear from the party.
The rest of the numbers blur in your head.
(That night you had called Soonyoung, sobbing over the phone, feeling more drunk then, in your apartment than you had at any other point that night.
“What’s wrong?” Alarm was flush in his voice. “What happened? Are you okay?”
The only thing Soonyoung could even make out was a very sad, very quiet, “I ruined it.”)
You haven’t talked to Jeonghan since Jenny’s party. He hasn’t texted you either. Staring at your upcoming midterm on Thursday and the extra study session with Jeonghan scheduled for Wednesday, you feel, quite lamely, mocked by your own calendar. But more than anything, you’re mad that he’s left you to study all alone the week of your midterm. You’re mad that you’re so busy replaying that night in your head, you can barely pay attention to the practice tests. You’re mad that, right now, sitting at the spot you guys always sat at in the library, you don’t have him. And you’re terrified of the creeping thought that you never really did.
By the time the midterm does come around, you’re exhausted. Not from studying or lack of sleep, but just from the sheer willpower it’s taken all week to not think about Jeonghan. You feel oddly calm going into the exam, the usual anxious chatter of students around you and rattling of chairs and pencils, not freaking you out as much as it normally would. You take the midterm, one question at a time, just as Jeonghan instructed you to do with every homework and every quiz. And then, 40 minutes in, you finish. Astonishingly, you even have enough time left to check over your work. So you do, fixing minor rounding and calculation errors, until you’re faced again with a completed exam and 15 minutes left.
You get to do something you haven’t done since high school: you turn it in early.
You spend the rest of that day in between your bed and your couch, struggling even more now than before to ignore thoughts of Jeonghan and your last conversation with him. For the past several weeks, Thursday afternoons were monopolized by Jeonghan, but today, watching the sun set outside your window, you’ve spent it all alone. The finality of what happened last weekend finally hits you: you might never speak to Jeonghan again. You really did ruin it. Suddenly, the urge to weep overcomes you. You turn on the tv instead, looking for a movie to watch. And of course it must be fate's petty joke on you that the first movie that pops up is the one you watched with Jeonghan after your date. You groan into your pillow before switching to something else.
By the time the movie is almost over and the sun has fully set, your phone rings. You had been checking it obsessively earlier and had therefore set it a bit farther away from where you were sitting. But at the sound of the ring, you’re ashamed to admit that you literally leapt for it. Your mind reads the caller id and is instantly flooded with an odd mix of relief and anxiety. Jeonghan is calling. Holy shit, Jeonghan is calling.
Your voice is shaky when you answer. “Hello?”
“Hey, this is Jeonghan’s partner right?” Your mouth parts at the voice that most definitely does not belong to Jeonghan. Who is this man? Why does he have Jeonghan’s phone? Why does it hurt your heart so much when he calls you Jeonghan’s partner? You must sit in your shock for too long because the mystery caller speaks again, sounding somewhat annoyed. “This is Seungcheol from the team. This is who I think it is, right? Because your number was saved as ‘my cutie’ with like a million heart emojis, so if not, this is about to get really awkward.” You have no idea how to respond to that. Finally, Seungcheol says your name. “This is you, right?”
You inhale sharply. “Yeah, uhm, sorry yes. Is everything alright? Aren’t you guys at practice right now?”
“Yeah, well we’re about to end, but here’s the thing…” Seungcheol then explains how terribly Jeonghan’s been playing this week, overly aggressive, missing every pass, fucking up every cross. And today, halfway through practice he hurt his shoulder and the coach sat him out entirely, forcing him to sit on the sidelines and just watch. Safe to say, this did not go over well with him, and he’s been laying down on the bench head buried in his arms, snapping at everyone who approaches him ever since. Seungcheol had to use a fake emergency bathroom break as a chance to run away to the locker room and make this call. “Do you know what’s going on with him?”
Of course you know, and it’s all your fault. You really did ruin everything with one kiss. “I–”
“Fuck, I’m running out of time. Never mind that.” Seungcheol says, cutting you off. “Can you just come down and be here, when we get off practice? Jeonghan drove over so you both can take his car back, but I think he just really needs someone here with him today.”
You wince. “Seungcheol, actually, I–”
“No, no, please. You don’t understand. I think I saw him crying on the bench. He needs you. Come.” Then after a slight hesitation he adds, “If you can. Please.”
You don’t even know what to say, but it doesn’t matter because just then the call ends. You stare at your phone, considering the options. Stay here and wallow. Or go, and try to salvage everything you’ve broken. And while you are a very accomplished wallower, you know which one you have to do. You drag your feet all the way over to your room to change.
You pace outside the field waiting for them, running through every possible scenario in your head. It does nothing, only worsening the condition of your already ailing heart. You drop down onto the curb, holding your head in your hands. Maybe he won’t even see you like this. You can’t tell if you prefer or hate that possibility.
Something bumps into your back. You look up and find Jeonghan staring down at you. You stand up so quickly your head starts to spin. Looking at him, you realize that this is the longest you’ve gone without seeing or talking to each other since meeting. You hated every second of it. But you think you might hate the look on his face right now more.
“What are you doing here?” He asks, words devoid of all the little quirks that make him him.
“Seungcheol called me.”
His face twitches. “Why?”
“He said that you–” you halt, selfishly wondering if it’s too late to abandon this ship. “How’s your shoulder?”
He looks at it, rolling it out once. He shrugs. “It’s fine now.”
You nod.
He then surprises you by asking: “How was your midterm?” Your eyes widen, searching his face for… you’re not even sure what. You don’t find it anyways.
You shift your weight uncomfortably. “It went well actually.”
He nods.
“Do you want a ride back?
He scoffs quietly. You flinch. “Can you even drive?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“How would you get back to yours?”
“I don’t know. Walk. Or maybe a bus. Or I could even–”
He doesn’t even let you finish. Voice raising when he asks again, “Why are you here?”
The words come out before you can stop them, tone matching his. “Because I’m sorry!”
“For what?”
“For kissing you!” He drops his duffle bag on the floor. “I don’t know!”
He parts his lips, inhaling as if to speak, but then he looks straight in your eyes and loses every word he might’ve wanted to say. He picks up his duffle and walks over to his car. “Jeonghan, please say something. I miss you, and I hate this. I just want to at least talk about what happened before we never speak again.”
He shoves his bag into the backseat and slams the door shut. He points to the car. “You coming?”
“Where?”
“I’ll drop you home.”
You don’t even know why you let him, but you do, sliding in the passenger seat and waiting until the car is started and moving to say something.
Or at least, that was the plan. But then you lose all the nerves you built up on your walk over and keep quiet the entire drive back to your place. It’s only when he stops in front of yours, ignition shutting off, that they build back enough for you to say, “Jeonghan, I–”
“I’m not mad because of the kiss.” He finally says, voice much softer than before. His eyes stay trained on the dashboard. “The kiss was…” He chokes on the word while the tiniest of smiles breaks like light after a storm on his face. “The kiss was perfect.” Your stomach momentarily turns into a gymnast. “I’m not even mad at all. I’m just,” You lean in after the words, as if waiting to catch them in your hands. He shakes his head once and then turns to look at you fully. “I’m upset because you think this has all been fake when, if I’m being brutally honest, I haven’t been faking anything since that first party.”
Oh.
Oh.
Holy fucking shit.
He chuckles darkly, hitting his head lightly against the steering wheel. “Now, I know what it feels like to be on the opposite end of this.”
You can’t help yourself. “How is it?”
He groans. “It’s like a thousand stomach aches throughout your entire body.”
You want to take him out of his misery, but, “I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything.”
“I don’t think–”
“No, I’m serious.” He mutters. He looks pained. “Remember when you said that I can’t say no to people? This is it. I’m saying no.” He smiles at you, but you know his eyes too well and you know when there’s nothing in them. His breath catches. “I’m really happy about your midterm. I always knew you didn’t need me.”
He looks away after that, turning the car back on, an obvious signal for you to get out. Selfishly, you don’t. You take two more seconds to stare at his face, his eyes, his hair, his hands. Then you unbuckle your seatbelt and step out of the car.
He doesn’t wait long before he drives away.
You walk back up to your dorm in a stupor of sorts. You unlock the door, step through the kitchen, walk like a zombie to your room, and stare at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes travel over your whole frame, and for some reason they fall to rest at your neck. More specifically, your necklace.
You’re out of the door, running before you even know it. Breathlessly, turning onto the road that leads to the opposite side of campus. 30 minutes away. This of course turns out to be a terrible, terrible idea. You do not run. But you get there eventually. Speed walking up to the door of Jeonghan’s frat house and knocking vigorously.
Soonyoung happens to be the one that opens it. “Oh, hey! How was your–Why can’t you breathe?”
You ignore him. “Is Jeonghan here?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think he’s back from practice yet. Why? What happened? Did you guys make up yet?”
“No, but, Soonyoung, I’ve been so stupid. This whole time I kept gabbing on and on, but I was blind. It was him. It was always–”
You hear a familiar voice say your name. Not just familiar. Your favorite voice. You turn to face him.
And you can’t help it, you grin.
You’re distantly aware of Soonyoung closing the door behind you.
“How did you get here?”
“I ran.” He makes a face. “Well, partly.”
“I told you to–”
“I know what you said.”
“Fine.” He sighs. “I didn’t–well, not like this, but listen. It’s okay if you don’t care–”
“But the thing is Jeonghan,” you say, the sentences and words you had prepared on the way over blurring together all in a rush to get out of your head and into his, “I do. There was no one looking at you at Jenny’s party. I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I wanted it. I hate sports. Really, ask Soonyoung, but I went and watched your game and had fun because you asked me to and because I don’t have the capacity to actually say no to your face. I thought I hated that smirk you do, but really I just hate how flustered it makes me feel. And I’m sorry that I took the whole young and stupid thing too close to heart, but,” you pull the matching necklace out from under your shirt. “If I didn’t care, would I still be wearing this? Would I be able to stand here and tell you and I haven’t taken it off since we bought it? And that that date was the best date I’ve ever been on.” You let go of the necklace, inhaling sharply. “I care, Jeonghan.” Then, as if it needs to be clarified, you add, “about you.”
You stare at him, waiting. And waiting. And waiting.
He turns around, takes two steps away from you, and then immediately plops his ass on the ground. You hear a whimper. “I thought I was going to lose you.” You approach him slowly, like a cat you’re trying like hell not to scare. You kneel down on the pavement beside him. He wipes his tears. “Don’t laugh.” He cries, already sensing the one bubbling in your throat. You shake your head as a swear not to. Which you break a second after the fact, turning your head to the side, desperately trying to hide it behind your hand. “Bully!” He exclaims.
“No. No.” You say, composing yourself and turning back to him. His tears are wiped, but a pout remains on his face. You cup your hands against his cheeks. “It’s just really cute.”
“It’s embarrassing.” He huffs.
You shake your head. “I love it.” Then you kiss him. It’s a slow and sweet kiss. You relish in it. There’s no rush anymore. No deadline. He isn’t going anywhere. Neither are you. You have all the time in the world with him.
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inkskinned · 1 year
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oh you know it's all latestage capitalism but the thing is. how are you supposed to be a person inside of this. a person trying to be a better version of yourself.
oh, you started working young, which was kind of hard, but it's just the way stuff works sometimes. and it was 2008 and your family couldn't afford heat. but it's fine, you grow a spine and get used to the professional world and besides it was the suburbs we're talking about here, like, your life could have been actually hard, so what if your father lost his job and you can't afford to move or turn the lights back on. and once you start making money, it's good. you keep doing that. because now they're relying on you. so you have to do that.
oh you were in thousands of dollars of debt at 17 years old so that you could go to school, because you have to go to school if you want to get a "real" job. you even did it "right", you worked parttime and attended community college before you transferred to a public school. you were under so many merit scholarships.
which is fine. you pick yourself up and you say like, okay. i graduated college. i'm holding down a job. i'm doing the Adult Thing, which looks and acts like this, according to all the books i've read. you start with the shitty job and then you climb that corporate ladder.
but the shitty job doesn't cover rent and you stretch yourself too-thin so you get sick. good luck with that. the shitty job no longer pays for your meals. everyone asks why you don't just move, but there's nowhere to move to. and with what money are you going to be moving? and then the loans come back, because they were never going to forgive them, because you were 17 and trying to do the right thing, which was stupid. people are now saying you shouldn't have even gone to school.
which is fine. but because you have no other option, so you do the shitty job, and you apply every day for like 5 new ones, and despite the fact everyone says "there's no one who wants to work!" it's actually just that nobody is fucking hiring so you can either work for 13 dollars an hour in the shitty place you know (where at least you have a passingly friendly relationship with the manager) or you can start from scratch again with a different 13 dollars an hour without knowing how much abuse from the new job you'll be taking.
and if you quit you lose your insurance. if you quit you lose your housing. if you quit, you'll be another burnout kid. the lazy ones. these assholes, look at them!
and you come home to a family dinner and you hear from your father the same old thing. how he worked hard at his job and yes it sucked for a while but he was able to provide for the family and then the house and the dog and the rest of barbie's dream vacation. how the insurance did cover some of it. how you just really need to start speaking up more in manager conversations so they know you're a go-getter. you want to tell him - did you know we're actually doing more now hourly than any previous generation? - but you can't remember where you heard that statistic, and you're far too tired for the fucking argument. and then he starts in on his usual bit. where's the house? where's your kids? where's your ambition.
the same job the same money the same hours doesn't do it anymore. the same nose-to-the-grindstone now just shreds your face off. there's no such thing as upwards mobility, not really. and as far as you're aware, the money certainly is not trickling. you do the soulless stupid shit you signed up for because you fucking have to or else you literally risk your life (food, the apartment, the insurance), but it's not getting you anything. you download the stupid "save more" app and you budget and you do every right thing and then the price of eggs is 7 dollars and you say - oh great! another thing i have to fucking worry about now!
and you go to your stupid job and everyone in your father's generation just tells you to be better about being an adult. they have their homes and their savings account and their bailout and they say. well have you tried not drinking starbucks. well your generation just spends too much on clothing. well you might just be too addicted to travelling. and you - because you need the job - you bite your tongue and don't say i am being held prisoner and you're suggesting i stop pacing my cell if i don't like the scenery and you don't say what the fuck do you think i've been doing with my money and you don't say i haven't spent a cent on something nice in literally forever much less coffee you arrogant asshole. you open and close your bank app and check your loans and check your credit score and check fucking zillow and ziprecruiter and apartments.com just one time more. and still they give you that demeaning little grin and say - see, what you need is -
what you need is for your meds to stop being so fucking expensive. what you need is for the housing bubble to explode into dust. what you need is for billionaires to choke on their wealth. what you need is actual help. what you will get is more economic advice from people who are older-and-wiser.
and above you, almost in a glimmer, you can see the wedged smile of your debt getting toothier, wider.
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livwritesstuff · 2 months
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Tommy POV, wc: 2890, full version on ao3
Tommy Hagan is not jealous of Eddie Munson.
He’s not.
There’s nothing to be jealous of, in his opinion, and Tommy probably wouldn’t be thinking about him at all if Eddie wasn’t the most publicly well known member of his graduating class – well, he hadn’t actually been in his graduating class, Tommy supposes.
They had been seniors at the same time, though.
If Tommy happened to be jealous of anything – and that’s a big if – it would probably have something to do with the famous thing. Everyone has a small part of them that wants to be famous at least in some capacity, he’s pretty sure, even if Eddie isn’t really, truly famous – not like the red carpet celebrities. He’s a writer. Even the most well known writers never get all that much attention, but Munson has his own Wikipedia page, and that’s more than anybody else from Hawkins, Indiana can say. Hawkins itself barely even has a Wikipedia page, and it’s only because of all the atrocities that happened in town in the mid-eighties.
Tommy hadn’t been around for the end of it all – the earthquake-slash-serial killer situation that never made any sense to him. He remembers his mom calling him at his college dorm when the deaths first started. He remembers her asking, “You went to school with that Munson boy, right? Do you think he could do something like this?”
And Tommy had been twenty and a total moron, so he’d said some dumb shit like, “Yeah, he’s into freaky stuff like that. Somebody should’ve put him on a list ages ago,” even though four years of experience told him that Eddie was all bark, no bite. Tommy hadn’t been surprised at all by the statements that later came out clearing Eddie's name, and by then his parents had already high-tailed it out of Hawkins so it all sort of became irrelevant to him.
Tommy never even returned to Hawkins one single time after he left for college (barring his high school reunion, obviously), and twenty years after graduation, he doesn’t really think about those years all that much.
He doesn’t love the person he’d been in high school. He was whiny and immature and had his priorities all messed up. Most of the memories he has of his teenage years, he looks back at and cringes, feels a whole lot of shame and embarrassment, but also some pride at how much he’s grown over the last twenty years. He also knows he’d been kind of a dick in high school, but that he’s less ashamed of. It’s normal, he knows, for kids to be mean, that it’s a standard response to being untreated kindly in other ways. Like, his dad had been an asshole to him as a kid, always on him about his grades and his smart mouth and how he’d no longer been a standout on any of his sports teams after starting high school, and Tommy had coped with that by poking kids beneath him at school. 
It’s just the pecking order of high school. It’s normal.
Even now, when Tommy’s son had dealt with some pricks in the year above him shoving him around, he had come home from school and tormented his little sister for a while – it’s normal, no matter how much his wife had tried to convince him it was something that needed addressing. It’s just kids being kids. They grow out of it eventually, just like Tommy had.
Occasionally he wonders where the kids he’d spent all those years with in the Hawkins public school system had ended up, but these days the internet makes that pretty damn easy to figure out.
He’s learned Tina got married and had kids real young. She still lives in Indiana. Carol, who he’d split up with before heading off to college, lives in Alabama now and she’s got kids and a husband too. Jonathan Byers is a photographer in California – Tommy isn’t into all that art-y crap, so he has no clue if he’s any good, but he definitely recognizes some of the organizations he’s worked for and if that’s any indication, Tommy would wager he’s not too shabby. No wife, though, he noted, so he’d either been right about Byer’s being a queer, or women just found him repulsive (admittedly, Tommy leans more towards the former – he’s a photographer). Tammy Thompson still lives in Tennessee, though it doesn’t seem like she does music anymore (husband, kids, blah blah blah). 
If he’s honest, the only person Tommy is actually interested in tracking down is Steve Harrington, and he’s the one person Tommy can’t find a single trace of online. No MySpace, no Facebook, no weird blog thing, nothing.
Vaguely, he wonders if Steve might be dead. A truly massive proportion of Hawkins had died over just a few short years in the mid-eighties. Maybe Harrington was one of them.
Tommy doubts it. 
He would have known. 
Steve’s parents would have made sure everyone knew if their son had died. Funnily enough, Steve’s mom is actually on Facebook, and pretty actively too, but there’s no sign of Steve anywhere on her page. 
He hadn’t even shown up for their high school reunion in the winter of ‘04, which is odd because Tommy had been certain he would.
He doesn’t obsess over it – he really doesn’t. It’s just a thought that pops into his mind every now and then – where the hell is Steve Harrington?
In the late spring of 2007, he gets his answer.
“Tom,” his wife says, “That guy from your high school is on the cover of this magazine.”
He knows without asking for clarity that it’s Munson – no other person makes sense – and when he eventually gets his hands on the magazine, he finds that he’s correct.
Eddie Munson is on the cover of a magazine because, apparently, he published another book. 
Truthfully, Tommy already knew that. 
It’s his fourth book (which, for the record, Tommy hadn’t known until he knew it because it’s not like he’s keeping tabs on this guy or whatever), and it’s been getting a whole bunch of mainstream attention after a controversial landing on the top of all those book charts Tommy doesn’t follow despite featuring a gay love store amidst all his normal fantasy crap. It sparked a whole debate about banning books and everything (dumb, Tommy knows, because if he learned anything in business school it’s that if you really don’t want something to exist, the best thing you can do is not funnel money and attention into it). 
Tommy does, in fact, watch the news so he’d already caught wind of all this – it’s part of the reason he can’t shake the guy – and it’s why Eddie Munson is on the cover of this magazine (because, seriously, nobody gives a shit about writers until it hits the news).
He allows himself a moment to look at the cover, to look at Eddie, who apparently goes by Ed now. Tommy is loath to admit it, but he looks good. His hair is normal and he’s grown into his frame, not all long and lanky and gangly limbs like Tommy remembers from school. He looks well-fed, confident, happy.
He looks good.
Tommy thumbs through the first few pages of the magazine until he reaches Eddie’s interview, and, again, he allows himself to look over the photo of him that takes up nearly three-quarters of the first page even if he has no intention of actually reading the article itself because, again, Eddie looks good (and maybe there’s something about the scruff of facial hair along his jaw that Tommy's eye gets stuck on). Tommy’s allowed to say that men look good when it’s true – it’s 2007, as his wife likes to remind him whenever it’s convenient for her, and if she’s allowed to say that Angelina Jolie looked good in that CIA movie, then Tommy is allowed to say that Eddie Munson looks good here.
When Tommy flips to the next page, he’s met with a photo that stops him in his tracks, has his feet frozen to the floor because –
Jesus Christ, that’s Steve Harrington.
Fuck, okay, so he’s reading this fucking article.
It takes Tommy a long time to get through it, honestly. Eddie comes out in the article, which might be a big deal, might not (and he doesn't care to be enlightened, thanks). He keeps getting distracted by the pictures scattered throughout it.
The pictures of Steve, mostly.
Because, well, if Eddie Munson looks good, Steve…
Steve looks alive.
Tommy didn’t realize it until this exact moment, but Steve had existed in his head for the last two decades as the eighteen-year-old he’d been the last time they were in the same room together. It hadn’t exactly occurred to him that Steve’s been aging this whole time too, just like Tommy has.
It’s undeniable that Steve is older. 
His hair is starting to go gray at his temples (it’s the only thing that’s changed about his hair since he’s still styling it the same as he did in high school – because why mess with a good thing, Tommy supposes) and he’s got just the hint of crow's feet around his eyes when he smiles. He’s smiling in all the photos – every damn one – and it has Tommy struck by how unbelievably happy Steve seems. It’s an effect that somehow both takes years off the age Tommy knows he is and shines a light on just how good those years must have been for him. 
There’s no solo shots of him like there are for Munson – though according to the article, it's actually Harrington now – and only half the photos are in color. The rest of them – the more candid ones – are smaller and left in black-and-white. 
The one that caught Tommy’s eye first – because it was meant to, he’s pretty sure; it takes up half the page – is right in that sweet spot between staged and candid where Steve and Eddie both know that they’re being photographed even though neither of them are actually posing. Eddie is grinning at Steve in a wicked way that still feels familiar to Tommy even two decades since he’d last seen it on him (probably swaggering around the cafeteria like a total jackass – not that Tommy would know anything about that). Steve is grinning right back at him with a smile Tommy doesn’t think he’s ever seen before.
Or maybe he has, but not on this version of his face, not since Steve was as young as his oldest daughter.
Just as the author of the article said, the photos don’t show the faces of Steve’s children, either leaving them artfully out-of-focus or choosing shots where they’re turned away from the camera, but they’re still present, and it makes the whole spread almost feel like a photo album in a way, like it should be private but instead was published for the whole world to see.
Steve has three of them – kids, Tommy means. He didn’t know that Steve was a family kind of guy. It makes sense though, when he thinks about it. Steve’s parents were kind of a nightmare — present in the worst ways, and absent in the worst ways too (though it hadn’t seemed that way when Tommy was a teenager looking for a failsafe party house). He'd always felt kind of bad for the guy. Like, Tommy's dad had been a total piece of work, but they'd at least been around, and he'd stuck around long enough for them to sort out their issues at least most of the way, and these days he's a pretty kickass grandpa to Tommy's children.
Tommy wonders about Steve's parents now, wonders if they maybe came around like his own parents had, but then he remembers Mrs. Harrington's Facebook page and how there's not a damn trace of her son on there, never mind three grandchildren.
Tommy isn't sure he wants to touch that.
Steve is probably a really good dad, Tommy decides. He’d been kind of that way when they were friends — Steve used to say he wasn’t all that bright, but he always had a freaky sixth sense for reading people, for caring about them in exactly the way they needed.
There's one photo where Steve is managing to holding his youngest daughter — a tiny little baby still — and her bottle in one arm (that's a level-three dad hold, Tommy knows). The bottle is angled in a way that obscures her face, and Steve's other hand is being tugged on by another daughter, this one with a mop of curly brown hair remarkably similar to Eddie's when it was still long.
That's another thing Tommy won't let himself think about, (because he knows if did he'd start wondering if any of those kids were half-Steve).
Anyways, Tommy doesn't need glance to see that Steve wears fatherhood like a favorite sweater.
There’s something about this, about seeing these pictures, about the way Tommy is getting an answer to that question he’s had for years about where his childhood best friend has been all these years, that is making him feel like his ribcage is being split open, bones splintering and shattering as everything vulnerable inside his chest in suddenly out for display.
He probably should feel uncomfortable, right? Like, a guy he’d been seriously close to growing up — sleepovers and gym locker rooms and all that shit — had turned out to be gay. If his own son came home from school saying that his best friend came out or whatever as gay…well, again, it’s 2007, and Tommy doesn’t think his wife would allow him to denounce the friendship entirely, but there certainly wouldn’t be any sleepovers anymore. He thinks that’s pretty reasonable.  
What was the likelihood that Steve had been, like, into Tommy?
And that should be an uncomfortable notion too, and in a sense, it kind of is, but not necessarily in the way he would expect. 
He just doesn’t understand why all this feels so much like a loss because he knows that he hasn’t really lost anything – not since he got his hands on the magazine, anyways. Steve Harrington hasn’t played any sort of role in Tommy’s life since their final falling out in 1984, and as far as he’s aware, having a falling out with a close friend is pretty much a guaranteed part of growing up. His wife even experienced something similar when her own grade school best friend suddenly stopped answering calls and stopped reaching out after they’d started college – and his wife is basically the nicest person Tommy has ever known, so…it happens to even the best.
It’s just…Steve had always continued to exist in Tommy’s life in a way, even if he wasn't physically present, and maybe Tommy had figured it could be the same for Steve too, that maybe he sometimes wonders where Tommy is, wonders what he’s up to.
This article and these photos makes it pretty fucking clear that Tommy doesn’t even exist in the same galaxy as the life Steve is living.
And that’s not to mention the Eddie fucking Munson of it all.
Tommy had been kind of ignoring the Eddie of it all until he couldn’t ignore it anymore, because he doesn't care about Eddie Munson.
He'd never cared, but he'd spent years seeing the guy's face and his name everywhere, and now it feels like a sick joke, like he's the piece of Steve left in Tommy's life.
If the article is accurate (and he has no reason to believe it isn’t), Steve and Eddie have been together for longer than Tommy has even known his wife. Steve has been with Eddie for longer than Steve was ever friends with Tommy – not by a lot, but still more. That’s a long fucking time, and it’s clear as day on both of their faces that they’re just as in love with each other fourteen years in as they were on day one.
It’s not just Steve, and it’s not just Eddie, and it’s not one more than the other. It’s both of them.
There’s one photo in particular – a small black-and-white one that keeps pulling Tommy’s attention.
It’s another candid shot, taken from a bit of a distance. In it, Steve has Eddie boxed in against the counter in what has to be their kitchen. Eddie is leaning back against the edge of the granite countertop and looking at Steve with something sappy and fond on his face, and Steve’s hands are this close to grabbing Eddie’s waist as he looks at him the exact same way.
It’s shit out of a fairy tale or something, and sure, maybe someone could argue that they’re laying it on thick just for the sake of the magazine or whatever, but Tommy knows Steve Harrington and that look on his face is more real than Tommy had ever seen in all the years he'd known him.
So maybe Tommy has a reason or two (or three or four) to be jealous of Eddie Munson.
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melminli · 4 months
Text
Vanilla Pudding II
pairing: young coriolanus snow x fem. reader
summery - of course, coriolanus had his principles. but before he had them, he had you. he didn't want to lose that no matter what. you were his only exception in this game, and you would remain to be that.
word count: 1.3k
contains: district reader living in the capitol, fluff, slightly dark themes, coryo being a simp, flashbacks, fluff, possessiv behavior
a/n: well, i didn't really expect this to turn kinda darkish since the first chapter was so wholesome... but here we are. part 2 to blueberry tartlet!
part I
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Not everything was easier back then, but most things were. As a child, he didn't have to worry about his family's reputation. He hardly cared about his own since he was more concerned about what he had for dessert after dinner. Coriolanus was fine with just about anything most of the time, except for this pastrie with jam his grandmother used to make. He hated the taste of that. Well, he ate it anyway, but he would have been happier if it had been bread pudding instead. Coriolanus loved that shit.
He remembered once when he was a little kid and played alone on one of the swings at the playground outside. He thought of kindergarten as okay because he didn't like most of the kids there, and that still hadn't changed today. Most of them grew up to be idiots just as expected.
"Ya wanna have some puddin'?" You asked him, and this was the first real encounter he had with you. Back then, you still had your district accent, which Coriolanus had found very strange, but for whatever reason, you were still quite popular among the others. They liked you a lot.
He thought you were weird. "Is it bread pudding?"
You didn't seem to know for sure yourself as you looked into the container and thought for a few seconds. "No, just normal vanilla puddin'...sorry." you said in a whisper. "Ya can still have it if ya want? The other like chocolate puddin' more..."
Coriolanus watched your figure for a few seconds, and you didn't really dare to meet his starting gaze at first, so you looked to the side, slightly embarrassed. "I don't want it, but I'll take it." He finally said and held out his hand. It was better than nothing.
His answer brought a smile to your face. "My ma made it, I'm sure ya gonna like it!" You replied and happily placed it in his hand.
He didn't have a spoon. How am I supposed to eat this? He looked at his hands and considered it for a few seconds before shaking his head. No, I can't do that. "Why don't you eat it?" He asked you, suddenly noticing out of the corner of his eye how your braided hair was held in place by a bow. He thought it looked kind of cute on you. It suited you.
"I also like chocolate more." You admitted a little shyly and then realized yourself that he didn't have the necessary cutlery to eat the dessert. "Oh, I don't have a spoon with me. We can ask someone in the cafeteria, I'm sure they'll help us out!" Your voice exclaimed as you grabbed his hand and pulled him along without a care in the world.
He wished he could still see you with the same eyes he did back then. When it didn't matter who was called what, what clothes you wore, or just the fact that you could say what you thought without worrying about how it might sound.
But you weren't kids anymore. He was no longer clueless and all that stuff was important now. The only thing that hadn't changed from back then was that you were still a District girl, and that was one thing you would remain forever, no matter how long you lived in the Capitol.
"Are you okay, Coriolanus?" Rang your sweet voice suddenly in his ears, leaving him stirring only to be greeted with your figure in front of his table. Your eyes looked down at him with concern, and he only now realized that class was over. Most of the students had even left the classroom already. It seemed like he had been caught up in his thoughts for quite a while. "...yes, everything is fine. Don't worry about it, it's nothing." He said and packed up his bag.
You weren't entirely convinced but decided to let it go. Maybe he just hadn't slept well. He seemed to walk around with dark circles under his eyes a lot. "Oh, okay." You just said. You've been making a bit more of an effort to get in touch with your childhood friend lately. You didn't really know why, but somehow, along the way, you just seemed to stop being friends. It was only the other day at the graduation party of your elders that you realized how much you had actually missed him.
"So, I heard you're taking part in this year's Hunger Games." You broached the subject and saw him raise an eyebrow. You suddenly noticed how that may have sounded. "As a mentor, of course! Yeah, sorry if the way I just put it sounded a bit weird..." You apologized to him and mentally smacked yourself on the head.
He shook his hand. It was cute how nervous you suddenly acted around him. He liked that, liked that it was him who made you feel that way. "It's okay. As I said, don't worry about it." He replied and walked down the stairs with you after he was finished with his bag. "I'm afraid I couldn't find your name on the list. It's a real shame that you have to miss out on such a great opportunity."
You disagreed. "Well, I'm actually a bit relieved about that, if I'm being honest." You admitted, looking a little worried at the thought that you could have been in his place. "Yeah, I'm not really a big fan of the games. I hate to admit it, but I'm kind of sensitive to this type of stuff. Like, just seeing blood freaks me out, so I can't really..."
Coriolanus watched you struggle a bit trying to skate around the actual goal of the games. You didn't even seem to be able to say the word kill or dead. He'd bet you'd be the first to fall if you were a tribute. His eyebrows furrowed slightly at the thought. It's better that she isn't. She's not like those other animals. "Don't be absurd. It's completely valid that you feel that way, trust me." He assured you, bringing a slight smile back to your lips.
He stopped you briefly so he could hold your hand comfortingly. "We don't even have to talk about the games if you don't want to. How about this, I know this good ice cream place near the academy." He suggested charmingly. "Do you still like chocolate? I've heard that's their specialty."
You couldn't stop the broad smile that spread across your face at his words. "It still is, actually. let's go! My treat!" You said and pulled him along by his hand without a care in the world, and like then, he just let you do it.
"No way, I'll pay and there's nothing you can do about it."
You shook your head stubbornly. "I don't want you to do that, and you can't stop me."
He had decided then and there that he wasn't going to let himself get in the way of the only good thing that had ever happened to him in his usually so miserable life. And what if you were a District girl? Even if he could never change that, it would make no difference in the future.
After all, no one would dare question the decisions of the President of Panem - especially when it came to choosing his first lady. Coriolanus was sure that something could easily be arranged with those who still couldn't hold their tongues.
Before you could take another step, Coriolanus suddenly stopped behind you and almost let you fall to the ground had he not caught you. "And that's where you're wrong." He said, smiling as sweetly as a poisoned apple. "Because I can."
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nariism · 9 months
Text
come out and haunt me
pair. itoshi sae x ghost!reader
content: fluff, angst/comfort with a happy ending, reader is a ghost, platonic + romantic interactions, strangers to friends (to more?), slight pining
synopsis. sae is 13 years old when he moves to madrid. his temporary apartment is old and cheap, and worst of all it's haunted. but he finds your company better than nothing, even if you do tend to knock all of his belongings over.
wc. 5.7k
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You are dead.
As it comes to all mortal humans, you have died. You can't remember when, or how, or why— only that it is your duty to haunt this home, that you are abysmally cold, and that you are dead.
You don't know if you had any last words, what it was like to draw a breath, or how to stop feeling so cold. Cradling yourself somehow makes it worse. But you are dead, so what does it matter if you can't remember?
If you had aspirations and meaning in life, then you suppose you should try to find them in death, too. So you float around empty halls, deliberately bump into things just for the fun of it, and pretend that you aren't dead. It is purposeful enough.
There's a boy who lives with you.
You are dead, and he is alive, yet he seems completely unbothered by your loud, obnoxious presence.
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Sae feels more dead than alive.
He is 13 years old when he moves into his temporary home in Madrid. It's old and worn. It is all his parents could afford with Yen in a foreign country.
His new home is despairingly lonely. It makes the heart in his chest sink into the pit of his stomach. He misses Rin. His parents. Japan.
He should be thankful. He doesn't mean to be a brat. But the small apartment is cramped and cold and smells like mildew. He's allergic to something in the walls. His light buzzes horribly when it turns on.
And, well. The place is haunted.
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You are a ghost haunting an old, rickety apartment in Madrid.
You've never seen your reflection in the mirror, but you're pretty sure you look scary. There has been others before him— a young couple with a dog; a retired carpenter; a businessman complaining about how shitty work is over the phone. Each and every one of them have left you the same way: screaming, crying, colour drained from their faces and packing their suitcase before you could even say hello.
It's a little lonely, being a ghost. Sometimes you wish you came off a little friendlier. You have no ill intent, you're just bored. Bored and lonely and wishing to know why everyone thinks you're so terrifying.
The boy who lives with you is the first. He's the first to look you dead in the eyes and shrug you off. He's the first to fall asleep knowing your presence is watching. He's the first to leave out a bowl of warm, steaming rice for you even though he seems to know you can't physically eat it.
His company is silent, as is yours. It's better than nothing.
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Sae is 13 years and 5 months old when he tells Rin his apartment is haunted.
"A ghost? Seriously?" Rin sounds unimpressed even through the static of the phone call. Take it from the kid who watches horror movies in his spare time. Freak, Sae thinks.
"Seriously. I have a picture."
He can hear his brother pulling his phone away from his ear to look at the image he just sent. The call goes quiet for a moment, and then Rin is scoffing in the microphone again.
"Quit messing with me." The younger Itoshi sighs. "This isn't funny."
Rin is only 11. He lives at home with Mom and Dad. He's not alone right now, in a place where everyone speaks a jumbled language he can't decipher yet.
He doesn't understand that even if Sae isn't being haunted, he shouldn't crush his brother's hopes that someone, or something, is watching over him.
"I'm not," Sae deadpans.
"Yeah, okay, and what does this ghost do, then?" He still sounds skeptical.
"Mostly just knocks over my books and stuff."
From his couch, he watches you bristle in embarrassment and scurry away into the darkness of the hall.
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You are some sort of untethered soul, unsure of where your actual body rests. It could be 10 meters from this apartment. It could be in Antarctica, for all you know.
Okay, well, Antarctica is a bit of a reach, but you're certain that your body is somewhere. You wonder what kind of clothes you used to wear; what kind of music you used to listen to; what kind of hairstyle you used to prefer.
You wonder if these things are anything like Sae's.
He's all you have right now. It would be nice if you had some things in common. Maybe you could be friends, if he was ever going to acknowledge you to your face instead of gossiping to his brother.
You watch him quietly from the kitchen table, waiting for your bowl of rice. You must make some kind of face when he instead places a plate of eggs in front of you.
He almost laughs, you think. He hasn't shown any sort of emotion in response to you thus far, so it's hard to tell.
"Coaches told me I have to be stricter about my diet," he says out loud. It's the first words he has ever spoken to you. It's the first words anyone has ever spoken to you.
He eats his bland eggs silently after that remark, eyeing them disdainfully.
You have that in common, at least. You miss your warm bowl of rice.
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Sae thinks you are funny.
He's only ever known ghosts to be malicious, benevolent beings. Things stuck in purgatory with no way out, forced to wander the mortal plane and thus turning into baneful monsters. Watching spooky movies with Rin has ingrained this into him—  hardwired his brain into giving him goosebumps whenever you're around even though he knows you're harmless.
He has to wonder how anyone could ever find a ghost like you genuinely scary, with your avoidant eyes and that patience while you wait for breakfast.
He doesn't mind doing twice the amount of dishes. Not if it means he doesn't feel alone.
You do silly things, like shoving his belongings over when you want his attention, or sitting on the floor and blowing bone-chillingly cold air into his face when he's taking his midday nap.
He's discovered that your inconsistent corporeal interactions with the world are quite amusing.
"What's your name?" He asks one day over eggs that he's shoving around on his plate.
Silence. Of course.
"Don't have one?"
You shake your head, but really, you don't know. You can't remember.
Sae has never been the talkative type, but for some reason he just can't keep his mouth closed. Being a complete shut-in and not having anyone to talk to outside of his team would do that to him, he guesses. He's thankful that you at least don't seem to have a language barrier when he speaks Japanese.
"Should I name you?"
Your offended expression screams: What am I, a pet?
He just smiles, placing his fork down and observing you carefully. And the name he decides on dances at the tip of his tongue, sounds so sweet coming from his lips.
You can't help but think the name was meant for you, in life or in death.
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You like listening to Sae talk.
He has a voice smooth as silk, so charming and boyish. He's young, you think. He told you once that you also looked rather young, and asked you how old you were when you died.
Even if you had an answer for him, it's not like you could have told him.
Sae is famous for his age, you discover one night while watching television with him. You're sitting on the floor and he's on the couch. You cause the TV to frizzle and crack with static but he doesn't shoo you away. Maybe he finds your presence more valuable than the background noise of the screen.
He's in a recording, playing what he calls "football"— light blue uniform, eyes wide with adrenaline, sweat sticking to his forehead and a proud shine in his expression. He isn't smiling by any means (you've also discovered that he rarely does), but you can tell he's happy.
"I'm going to be the greatest striker," he says from the couch. He talks about his dreams a lot, which is apparently what he used to do with Rin, but you don't mind filling in that role temporarily. "I'm going to be the best in the entire world."
You don't know anything about football, but you believe him anyways.
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Sae is 14 years old when he gets his first contract payment.
This is his chance, he realizes, to move out of his shitty little apartment and into an actual livable home.
He has to consider if you'll feel lonely, if you even can feel lonely, and if you'll like hanging out with your next housemate, whoever it is that's unlucky enough to have a ghost befall them.
He's getting soft. If it were any other point in his life, Sae would have taken the chance to move out without hesitation. But you've been there for him since day one, kept him enough company — no matter how quiet — for him not to go literally insane.
You're the only thing he has in Madrid that he can come home to right now. You’re the only reason he even comes home at night instead of just sleeping in the locker rooms.
If not him, who else would feed you crappy bland eggs in the morning?
You, football, sleep. You, football, sleep. You, football, sleep. At some point, it became his routine.
"I was thinking of moving out."
Your head tilts to the side. You seem perplexed by his statement.
"Like, leaving. Leaving here."
You blink at him, head tilting the other way. There's a look in your eyes that tells him you understand. There's also a look that tells him it's not your first time being abandoned, left in this terribly lonely, smelly apartment.
"I can never tell what you're thinking," he huffs.
You're still for a moment, just staring at him as if you suddenly can't understand Japanese. But then you get up from the table, walk over to the container of dry rice that's been untouched for so long that it's gathering dust, and knock it over.
"Hey," he scolds sharply, chair screeching as he stands. "I have to clean that, you know?"
You start moving the spilled rice into place. He watches curiously as you sort dry rice into a pile. You don't know any Kanji, he isn't surprised. But you know enough to draw him a universally understood symbol.
When he peers over at the messy counter, he finds himself staring at a giant X. Stay, it means. Don't leave.
That night, when he knows you've retreated into the closet where you seemingly go to sleep, he crumples up the lease for his new place without signing and burns the paper.
It's because he needs to make you eggs tomorrow morning. Only he would know to do that.
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"Do ghosts ever have dreams?"
You raise your head from the edge of the bed. You've made it a new habit to protect him in his sleep, from what he can tell. Perching yourself on the floor beside the mattress and resting there, head in your arms, making his sheets cold.
You shake your head. Of course not, he internally smacks himself. What a ridiculous notion.
He rolls himself over onto his side, looking at you from under his duvet. "So when you sleep, you don't see anything?"
Another shake of the head. He isn't sure you're understanding him. There's another pause as he peers at you, and then he sighs, eyes sliding shut.
"Do ghosts ever have dreams?" He asks again, this time emphasizing his words in a different way and hoping you'll answer him the way he wants.
Your eyes shift away for a second, as if pondering. When you look back he's surprised to see that you look... bashful?
You point at him, then at yourself, then shy away again.
You. Me. Friends.
Sae feels silly that it makes his heart ache a little— the sadness carried in your face and a loneliness so powerful he feels it rattling in his own bones.
Well, the two of you have a lot more in common than he thought. How long had you been alone? Was that really all you ever dreamed of? Having a friend?
Suddenly, his doubts about his own dreams feel immeasurably small.
He reaches out to pat your head. His hand goes through you.
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Sae is 15 years old when he packs up his belongings for a flight to Japan.
"I'll be back," he promises with a small smile. You believe him. He doesn't lie to you.
You wait patiently at the door for him for two weeks, three days, and sixteen hours. When he comes home, he finds you sitting on the floor like you always do with your head in your knees and a sleepy expression on your face.
He seems colder. More withdrawn, for some reason.
"Miss me?" Sae asks, but he's not even looking at you. He makes his way over to the kitchen and dumps a cup of rice into the cooker, suitcase abandoned at the door unpacked.
You trail behind him curiously, watching him in confusion as he washes it in the sink. He pauses, finally glancing at you before reaching over and dumping a second cup of rice in.
"I stress eat. Don't tell my coach."
The words don't make much sense to you, but you nod anyways.
For the first time in months, he places a bowl of warm rice in front of you. You do as he does, say thanks for the food in your head even though you can't eat, and observe him. You both sit quietly in the dim light of the apartment, moonlight beaming through your single rickety window.
He only gets four bites in before he puts his head in his hands and sobs.
You've never seen someone cry so hard before. Usually, they only do it when they first catch a glimpse of you and flee in terror. You've never known it to be such a painful sound— like a bird singing for the sky but never finding it.
Sae sits there for a long time just crying to himself, not caring that your presence is still watching. It's not like you'd ever judge him or have the voice to speak this secret, anyways.
"Fuck—" he hiccups, wiping up his face. "—Sorry."
You look at him funny. He has no reason to apologize. He's just a kid. A 15 year old kid who needs to stress eat in the solitude of his lonely apartment right now. It makes your chest squeeze; an unfamiliar, horrible feeling that's completely new to you. You wonder if this is what all the anime he watches calls a heart.
By the time he finishes crying, his rice is cold. And when he looks up, his eyes widen. Your lips are trembling and you look like you want to shout at him, but you can't. You are dead. You're a ghost. You can't yell some sense into him, even if you tried.
In the pale moonlight shining into the room, he can see tears illuminated on your cheeks.
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Sae is 16 years old when he meets his first partner.
"They're nice," he reassures you as he slicks his bangs up with gel. You shake your head in disapproval and he rolls his eyes. You always liked his bangs down, thinks he looks better that way. "Well, I can't stay single forever."
You scowl at him and swivel on your heel to stubbornly deny his claims. He just laughs.
"You're seriously jealous?"
You shoot him a glare.
"If you really don't like them, you could always scare them away. You are a ghost, aren't you?" He reaches up to pat your head as he always does. And as always, his hand phases through you.
He turns around to fix his hair again, leaning into the mirror to see himself closer.
You're not sure if you even have human features. You can't see them in a reflection, anyways. Even if you did, you're sure they're pretty scary.
You glance at Sae in the reflection. He looks as good as ever, no longer a scrawny little 13 year old kid who eats rice for breakfast every morning. You wonder if his partner is pretty like he is.
He must notice the chill in the air grow ten times colder— a telling sign that your mood is dropping. He turns around to see what has happened, only to find you sulking.
"What?"
You pout, gesturing to the mirror. He looks to the vanity, then to you, and he shakes his head with an exasperated smile.
"I was wondering when you'd ask," he says as if this was a conversation he's been waiting for. And then he talks. Talks more than you've heard in a long time— since he came home from Japan, probably.
He's gotten meaner over the years. He was always a rude little kid, but being pushed around in football must have given him thicker skin and a sharper tongue. You've never known him to be a saint of a human, someone who speaks so eloquently in their descriptions. But here he is now, defying your every expectation like he always does.
He tells you what colour your hair is. Compares the shape of your head to a fruit you can't recall an image of. Gives you a detailed explanation of all your flaws and marks and why he thinks they're so perfect because it proves that you were indeed alive and human at some point.
"You're beautiful," he concludes casually, as if he's not turning the entire world on its head right now.
Silence fills the room as he waits for your response. You don't do anything but gawk at him, and he chuckles.
He doesn't show up to his date that night.
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"Your hair got longer," Sae points out one day while he's scrolling through his phone.
Your eyes flutter open from where your head rests on the coffee table. You hadn't even noticed. Can ghosts grow? 
"You know, I used to think you'd stay the same forever, but you've been growing up with me. It's cute."
Have you? Is it cute? Are you seriously so tethered to him that you've been unconsciously changing to match him?
Sae puts his phone down at your confusion. "Should I give you a birthday if you're going to grow up?"
You don't know what a birthday is. When he tries to explain it, you're even more perplexed. Ghosts don't have birthdays. They have... deathdays.
He puts a cake in front of you anyways and lets you blow out the candles.
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Sae is 17 years old when he gets the eviction notice.
Four years. Four long, hard, unbelievably painful years later, and he's finally being kicked out of his house.
13 year old Sae would have celebrated. All he feels now is despair.
He doesn't tell you. He can't. How can he explain that he won't wake up every morning at 6am sharp to make you eggs? That you won't have someone around who will tell you every little thing that's changed about you from the last day? That you won't be able to doodle him little incomprehensible blobs with dry rice anymore?
He shouldn't care so much. You're not chained to this Earth. You might just disappear once he leaves, inperceptable to anyone else. The thought makes him so sick that he throws up that night. He tells you he ate some bad food.
Sae doesn't want you to feel sad or lonely, but it's not like he can just become a squatter in this place. His dream is to play football, not be thrown into jail.
You wake up one morning, and he's gone.
There isn't a note. There isn't an explanation anywhere to be found. There isn't even a trace of evidence that Itoshi Sae ever lived here.
Well, except for the plate of eggs and bowl of rice sitting on the stove.
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You thought you would have been used to being alone by now. For some time, you were used to it. But that was many years ago.
You're not sure how long you've been haunting this apartment in Madrid, nor do you know how much time passes after Sae leaves. The world seems to come to a halt, actually. Without him, what fun is being a ghost?
Now you're just a lost soul like all the others. There isn't anything special about you. You're just the ghost that used to haunt Itoshi Sae and wake him up from his naps.
For the first time in years, you only know one thing. A singular fact that keeps you bound to this world: it's your duty to haunt this home. There is nothing else.
No one moves in after Sae leaves. No one new comes to be haunted. No one dares to set foot into this apartment. You remember that there were moments when life flickered inside of you, if even for just a fraction of your infinite time. The reason for that has abandoned you without explanation.
There's a knock on the door one day. You can't open it, and the person outside doesn't bother sticking around to see you phasing through the door to look around.
There's a birthday cake on the floor with candles that say '19' sticking out of it.
Only one human in the entire world would have deemed today to be your 19th birthday. He's nowhere to be seen.
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He moves back to Japan on his 21st birthday. Sae is having trouble remembering what you look like, despite seeing you in his dreams every night.
It's a terrible realization. So terrible that it makes him sob into his pillow at night when no one in the world is awake to hear his anguish.
Japan is lonelier than Madrid. He never thought it would happen, and he blames you entirely.
He doesn't have anyone waiting for him when he opens the door to his luxury penthouse apartment. He only washes one plate in the morning. He wakes up from his midday naps undisturbed and rested.
Sae misses you deeply. And he can't help but wonder if you feel the same.
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(You don't know what the yearning ache inside of you is. You don't know what to call it.
You miss him, too. You just can't put a name to the feeling.)
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He doesn't stop seeing you in wisps; little blurs in his peripheral that make his head turn fast as lightning. Wherever he looks, you're gone.
It's not fair that you're a ghost who both literally and figuratively haunts him. He'd like to move on in life and forget about those 4 miserable years he spent living in that damned apartment.
He can't. Sae is incapable of moving on from that place. The irony of it is that you actually can't move on from that place, for some reason.
He would give anything to have you haunting him again. It doesn't matter where in the world the two of you are, if you were together everything would be okay. He's impossibly lonely without you.
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You start to think that you're the selfish one.
The idea of leaving this terrible apartment in Madrid scares you to your very core— whatever soul is resting in your incorporeal body. It's not fair to place the blame entirely on Sae. Not when you're too wimpy to leave this place and find him.
Death is lonely without him.
One step forward, one day at a time. It's the advice Sae used to mutter to himself while getting ready in the morning.
One step forward, one day at a time. One step forward, one day at a time. And day by day, you're slowly inching closer to the door.
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Sae talks to Rin and all he can think about is your confused smiles and head tilts. He talks to his parents and all he can imagine is how cold the room would be if it were you. He talks to his fucking therapist and thinks that all of her shitty advice can't compare to your quiet understanding— that your tears of solidarity are the only thing that could make him feel better.
It's fucked up, really, that he can't move on. His body is in Japan going through the motions: playing football, being famous, being interviewed and going home to nothing. His heart is in Madrid. You took it with you and refuse to let go.
You're the closest thing to love he's ever felt, perhaps— his only friend in Spain. His only reason not to leave. A ghost from his childhood that protected him in his sleep and ate bland eggs for breakfast across the table from him every morning. A ghost that would sit on the floor and wait for him to come home every day. A ghost that kept him company when he had no one else.
He loves you. He doesn't. He needs you. He doesn't. He misses you. He doesn't. Whatever. What does it matter now?
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"So playing football has always been your dream?"
Sae stares blankly at the interviewer. He's reminded of a distant conversation: he is laying in bed looking at a ghost with a lump in his throat, and then he makes his first and only friend in Spain.
"Yes."
"And now that you're back in Japan, will you be playing for the national team?"
"I have no interest in playing on such a weak team." In other words, he has no reason to stay in Japan.
"So where will you go?"
Anywhere but here, he wants to say. In reality, he doesn't know where to go anymore if not to his old apartment in Spain. He just knows that he wants to come home to your sleepy face.
(That night, he makes two bowls of rice. He cries like he's 15 years old again and just ruined his relationship with his brother.)
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You've never been outside before.
You've heard about it, almost entirely from Sae but also from little snippets of anime he liked to watch. It's brighter than you imagined it to be, and warmer. You're not sure you've ever felt so warm before— it's hard to when you are a walking freezer.
There isn't anyone to tell you where to go. No one pays you any mind. You wonder if you even exist anymore outside of the small confines of that old apartment.
Something tells you that you do.
You don't know where to start looking. He could be all the way across the globe for all you know, though he did used to talk about his home country.
You have no map. You have no sense of direction. You have no one to ask for help. 
All you have is the soul caged within your ghostly body tugging in one direction, and wispy feet dragging your body along in response.
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Sae is 23 years old when he finally signs the contract to play for Japan, after months of being pestered by Rin about it.
His relationship with his brother is complicated. On one hand, he feels as though Rin will never truly forgive him for what he did when he was 15. On the other, he looks so ecstatic to be playing football together again that Sae wonders if their discourse was imaginary.
Japan is just a smidge less lonely with Rin in his life.
He wants to tell you all about it. That everything worked out and it's fine now. That you can stop weeping for him and to wipe up the tears that fall into nothing.
He counts the distance between you. Fourteen thousand kilometres separate him from telling you how he's living his new dream: playing football with his little brother again.
Fourteen thousand kilometers, ten years of needing you, and a reminder set on his phone to buy you a birthday cake again this year.
His heart aches.
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Japan is loud and busy and everyone is always in a hurry to get places.
You have to wonder if Sae really grew up in a city like this, and how he turned out so calm and unmovable. The street names are all in Kanji you can't read, but your soul tells you that you're going the right way, anyways.
There's a crowd gathering when your feet finally come to a halt. Lights flash and there are fancy looking people with microphones clamouring toward the center.
It's only a fraction of a second that your eyes meet, and then someone shoves him into the back of the car and they drive off.
He must be famous here, too.
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Sae is 24 years old tossing and turning in his bed, wondering if you were just a figment of his imagination or if you were truly standing there under a streetlamp watching him.
It wouldn't be the first time he dreamed you into existence; on some occasions you feel so real that he nearly reaches out to attempt to pat your head, like he always used to do when he was younger.
He goes back to that spot a couple hours later. The crowd is long gone and it's the dead of night— no one would be around to witness Itoshi Sae looking psychotic.
He doesn't find you in that spot. Instead, you're two blocks down and crouched in front of the window of a 24 hour shop. There's an ad for sparklers, and though you can't read the poster itself, the picture makes you stare with wide eyes.
He crouches down beside you as if 7 years of distance never existed between you.
"Do you want one?" He asks. You look at him in a strange way and his knees grow weak beneath him. You nod.
He comes out five minutes later with a few packs in his hand, walking away from you down the street to the park. You follow him quietly as if 7 years of distance never existed between you.
Sae holds one out, flicks the lighter in his pocket open and ignites the first sparkler. You watch it in fascination, ghostly form illuminated in warm orange and yellow light.
He smiles at you as if 7 years of distance never existed between you.
When the sparkler dies out, he lights another. And another. And another, until he's gone through all the packets he could afford with the Yen in his wallet right now.
As if 7 years of distance never existed between you, he reaches out to pat your head. His hand falls through you.
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You think Sae's new apartment is pretentious, but it's clean and open and doesn't smell like mildew.
It's hard to imagine what kind of purpose you had before him— all your memories are flooded with his hands and eyes and bangs and small smiles reserved for you. You think that the only reason you were ever materialized into the mortal plane was to haunt him, and only him. Itoshi Sae's permanent looming presence.
He doesn't seem to mind. In fact, you've noticed he's been smiling more lately since you started waiting for him to come home by the door.
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Sae is 25 years old when you fall asleep beside him in his bed.
You don't care that he's a kicker or a blanket hog in his sleep. It's not like either of those would affect you. He watches your sleeping face carefully, waiting to see if he would ever wake up from this blissful dream and be alone again.
But every time he wakes up, there you are.
You've grown since he left you in Madrid— you don't look like some lost little kid anymore, at least. He wonders if your souls are truly so intertwined that you would change alongside him, regardless of the distance.
Your eyes flutter open and his breath catches in his throat. You blink at him slowly in the pale moonlight, brows furrowed.
You point at him. Then yourself.
You. Me.
He nods in understanding.
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When he drops a plate of protein pancakes in front of you for breakfast, you look confused.
"Oh, sorry. Do you want rice?"
You shake your head. You don't care what's for breakfast, as long as you're sitting across from him while he eats it.
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"I'm going to be the world's best midfielder," he tells you one day. You're on the floor and he's on the couch, and it's like time had never even passed.
You don't know what that means, but it's his dream so it must be important. The most important thing in the world.
What you don't know is that it's not his entire dream. World's best midfielder doesn't mean a thing if he can't come home to tell you all about it.
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You are dead.
You're a ghost haunting Itoshi Sae— one that followed him from Madrid all the way to Japan. You don't remember how, or when, or why you died. You can't remember what your face looks like either, no matter how much Sae tries to describe it to you. 
You are dead. You're a ghost knocking over Sae's belongings to get his attention when you want it. You're the ghost curled up in bed with him even though he has to wear two layers to stay warm because of it. You're the ghost watching him rotate through different breakfasts that he says could never compare to a good old warm bowl of rice.
You are a ghost, and Itoshi Sae gave you a name. A birthday. A purpose greater than being a loud nuisance.
You are a ghost who likes to watch him light sparklers on his balcony. Who feels the things described only in the books he reads to you. Who learned to love somewhere along the way.
You are dead, and somehow alive at the same time.
(One day, Sae will be brave. One day, he will tell you he loves you. One day, he will thank you for waiting for him at the door when he comes home.)
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© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
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kannra21 · 6 months
Text
Contrary to popular belief, Gojo Satoru was never in a relationship. And he was fairly awkward to say the least. Sure, girls had a crush on him and he was chased all around the block, but he never truly attempted to make a move so it never worked out. Because of his job and because of who he was- the honored one, brought a veil of loneliness in his life and misfortune to people who associated with him. He never really knew how to deal with girls- joking and teasing was his way to go, but that only brought him rejection and girls would often shift their feelings to Suguru. His youth flew before his very eyes and he's 30 now. All of his friends died mostly and he's still taking care of the kids. At least he has a goal to maintain and raise a powerful generation of young sorcerers. It still doesn't take away from the fact that he's a lonely 30yo man. He could deny it as much as he wanted to, but it pained him.
Because of the staff shortage, Tokyo high was in dire need of new recruits, and that's where you came into the picture. A foreigner yet so oddly familiar, the girl next door, acquainted with the sorcery and sacrifice that came with it. Your serious expression and tired eyes told him everything, there was no need for words. He understood quite well, he could relate to you and find solace in the fact that someone shares his burdens now that he's not so completely alone anymore. You're so young, so pretty and yet so damaged by the world that it makes him feel overprotective of you. He wants to give you peace the way nobody ever did for him. But that's ok, he's the strongest after all. You're smiling under your breath, you're a sorcerer as much as he is. He's supposed to do his job and not care too much about what's going to happen to you on missions. The truth is- he didn't want to lose another person again.
So he took you out everywhere, one day it was Tokyo's famous coffee shop, the other was a prestigious high end restaurant. You realize he's rich, still, you didn't want to take advantage of him. He insists, he wants to spend time with you. He wants to know you better, ever went as far as escort you to dorms to take a look at your room. You tell him you're not the glitz and glam type of girl and that you're ok with the normie stuff. And he liked you more for it. So you had room hangouts, small coffee dates and arcade games. Sometimes it makes him cry when he remembers that he used to do all those things with Suguru and Shoko before. You felt nostalgic too, your childhood was basically ripped from your hands and there was nothing you could do about it except reminisce. But you were adults now and lingering on the past was useless. Only thing you could do was move forward.
Satoru doesn't like to talk about himself much, you noticed. But that's ok. It's probably a dark story, not much different from yours. You already knew of the Gojo clan and their connection to Michizane Sugawara. All his family members are dead, you didn't know why but that's probably what happens when you're a well known name in this dark sorcery world. Everyone goes for your head, especially the higher ups. Which is ironic considering they're supposed to be associates. Maybe he is the strongest but this was a thankless job. And sometimes it seemed like everything was put up against him. Not you though.
At first you were plainly colleagues, nothing special. Then friends. Then the lingering touches started to feel more frequent than usual. Then he kissed you for the first time- it was when he opened up and how he's wishing for more positive things, something that could potentially lighten up his world. He doesn't want to be alone and he doesn't want to feel like life just flashed before him. He wants to make an impact, even if it meant making you happy, because you were enough to him. And you felt the same way. This love didn't feel like fire, a burning spark of the moment- hurried and tasteless. It felt like a deep sea of calmness and assurance- you could be yourselves with each other, you didn't have to pretend anything. Because being each other's safe space was enough.
Funny, Tokyo high needed new recruits again since you were on maternity leave and no matter how long they awaited your return, you never quite seemed to come back to work. Satoru is laughing because they're blaming him for everything and he can't deny it because it's the truth. He has a beautiful wife and beautiful babies to come home to and the best part- you don't have to be exposed to the dangerous sorcery world anymore. The kids were lively and annoying but god did they remind you of him. They preferred you more though. You're laughing and Gojo is pouting because it's not his fault that he's away from home all the time. He's missing you so much. But, of course, they're sleeping with him when you're away doing your face routine before bed. You return to your room and see them huddled in Gojo's arms. It's adorable and you get emotional again.
Please don't die Satoru. His missions were getting dangerous by the week and seeing his smiley face on the doors hugging your kids was everything you could hope for. You begged him to change jobs but he doesn't want to listen. He claims that he's responsible for the imbalance of the world and therefore he should be the one keeping everyone safe. He's stricken with guilt. Or maybe it's his hero complex that makes him so rebellious to authority and, in this case, his wife. But he'd rather die a honorable death than be taken out by something embarrassing such as old age or sickness. You're begging him to think of the kids and he does, he's thinking about them every single day. Their safety is his top priority, so is yours. And you're scared, you really are. You love him so much. You wish things could be easier, but it's ok. As long as you have each other's backs it didn't matter. You can overcome any obstacles together. He's not alone, he has a family now.
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solar-wing · 2 months
Text
⚣ Open Arms ♾️
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⚣♾️ A/N → yall betta love my butt from dawn till dusk and kiss it from dusk till dawn. 25K WORDS?!?!?! EXCUSE ME?! Anyway, another request done! This was an anonymous one, though that I got from my previous account but never did. So, whoever sent this in, I hope you see and enjoy it! Gotta say, it definitely feels good getting these requests out of my inbox. Well, my screenshots, at least. I used this request as a continuation of a previous fic I did, which you can read here: ⚣ Forever 💛 You can read this as a standalone, but I recommend reading the previous part beforehand for context. ALSO HERE'S THE ANGST YALL WANT SO BAD FROM ME YOU FIENDS! NOW GET🤺 GET🤺 BACK I SAY🤺 WARNINGS: Mentions of Death | Angst/Comfort | Emotional Fluffy Vibes | TW: Neglectful Parenting | Implied smexy stuff but compared to what I write, it's literally nothing | ETC
⚣♾️ Summary → Conner couldn't let it go; wouldn't let it go. He was out there somewhere, lost and afraid. His instincts have never lied to him in the past, and he was certain they weren't starting now, no matter how much the Team thought he was holding on to lost hope. They made a promise to each other, and Conner planned on keeping that promise no matter what.
⚣♾️ Words → 25.6K
REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛
⚣ ENJOY ♾️
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How long is forever?
By definition: it means ‘for all future time; for always.’ Another line says ‘lasting or permanent.’ That’s what it was supposed to mean by the books at least. When he promised he would stay forever, that’s what he was supposed to do. That’s what he should've done.
Guess not all promises were meant to be kept, and words were really just that, words. No power to them at all.
Whoever said the pen is mightier than the sword, Conner wanted to meet that guy just to show him how wrong he was, possibly with an actual sword if he had his way, but, hopefully, that wouldn’t happen.
Hopefully.
It had been over a year since Y/N’s disappearance. A year since he up and blinked out of Conner’s life, his friend's lives, and so on. There wasn’t a day that the young superhero didn’t find himself dreaming or thinking about Y/N. He’d catch himself frequently getting lost in remembering the way his smile always put him in a good mood.
When he was happy, Conner was happy.
Truthfully, he felt as if everything that happened before he met the young super was less significant now. Everything that happened before the two met didn’t matter anymore. Only what happened then and in the future.
Not even the day when Dick, Wally, and Kal found him at Cadmus and set him free. Or when Batman and the Justice League set him and his new friends up with their own headquarters and stealth team. Not even the day when he finally seemed to have Superman’s acceptance and bond as a mentor and family figure.
Before Y/N, life was just that; life. Something where he got up every day, worked out or trained with the team, went to school, beat up bad guys, and then went home to do it again. All those were supposed to be exciting things, for him at least, since those were things he never had or would’ve gotten to experience had it not been for his ‘liberation.’
At the time, that could’ve meant something special to him. But then some new guy stumbled into his life and fucked everything up.
“Heard we’re supposed to be getting a new recruit,” Wally mentioned as he and Kal were currently sparring in the training circle.
“Yeah, me too, or at least I read about it. Saw his file on the Batcave and read over it. There wasn’t much detail in there besides a little bit of his background. He goes to that really prestigious boarding school in the Midwest and his family is one of the most elite and wealthiest families on the East Coast.” Robin said as he was typing away at the computer.
“Great. Another spoiled rotten rich kid on the team. Sounds awesome,” Artemis uttered while organizing her arrow pack.
“Hey, I’m not rotten!” The Boy Wonder responded, feigning offense.
“Ah, but you weren’t offended by the spoiled rich part. Point still stands then,” Artemis smirked.
“Why do we even need another person? It’s not like we’re lacking or anything.” Conner proclaimed, his arms crossed in his usual defiant manner as his face held not an ounce of joy on it.
“I don’t know, I think it’d be nice to have a new member as a part of the team. It’s always great to meet new people. And who knows, maybe they can help us be even better.” M’Gann spoke.
“So you think we’re bad and need improvement,” Conner responded with an accusatory tone.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all. I just don’t think it’s bad if we learn from other people.” She responded, though slightly more irritable than before.
Part of the reason why she had no problem when Conner proposed they split up and just remain friends/teammates was not having to deal with his mood swings and attitude all the time. Don’t get her wrong though, he was a great boyfriend, inside and outside. But, it was clear to her that she was not a high priority on Conner’s radar.
Superboy was still getting to know who he was and understanding his place in this world, and that came with understanding his emotions and how they responded to certain situations. As time passed, he realized his ‘feelings’ or what he thought were feelings for the Martian girl were nothing more than platonic.
A byproduct of his exposure to the outside world, and society’s definition of a ‘normal’ relationship, which usually consisted of a handsome, strong fella and a nice, pretty gal. He figured that was the role he had to take on. However, after some time, realizing how forced and unhappy he felt with the role he placed himself in, it created a wedge between the two superheroes, thus prompting them to end their relationship on good terms.
Conner had things he needed to work through, and M’Gann wanted someone who put her first before anything else.
“I agree with M’Gann. Meeting different people and learning from their stories is always a valuable lesson. You never know how they could impact you in the present and the future,” Kal commented after beating Wally in their match, the floor lighting up to announce the speedster’s defeat.
Conner only let out a displeased grunt in response before the sound of the Zeta Gateway activating caught his and everyone else’s attention.
Everyone was a little apprehensive about adding a new member to the Team in the beginning, even M’Gann and Kaldur despite their positive attitudes. They had a dynamic, a flow that worked for them, and they were all more or less living by the line of thinking that if something wasn’t broken, why try and fix it?
But, change was inevitable. And, this change may have been something they all could happily get used to, seeing how the recruit seemed to tame their hot-headed Kryptonian the moment he walked into the mission room.
Okay, not tame in a way like he was an animal, but more in the manner of calming down. It was no secret that everyone knew Superboy had a bit of a temper and given his biology and nature, Wally once made a joke that they all should bring hard hats to the Cave just in case Conner was in a bad mood and needed to punch something.
He didn’t find it amusing, but he also couldn’t deny the truth of it. It became something the Kryptonian sort of obsessed over and wanted to change about himself. Especially in front of the recruit who he couldn’t understand why for the life of him he cared so much about what they thought about him.
He didn’t even realize how much he was trying to show himself as a level-headed person in front of the new guy until M’Gann pulled him aside one day and asked why he was acting so weird.
He tried to deny it at first, claiming he wasn’t acting weird at all and M’Gann was reading too much into something that wasn’t there. As expected, the Martian didn’t let it go and decided to present evidence to back up her claim.
She brought up the first week Y/N spent at the Cave, and Conner didn’t necessarily come off as anxious, but everyone could tell he was nervous, which had them all puzzled. Before then, it was rare (try never) that any of them would see the Kryptonian nervous or anxious about something. And if he was, he’d usually mask it with anger or disdain.
Yet, after meeting the new hero on their team, something about all of that changed.
“I wonder what kind of abilities he has,” M’Gann wondered aloud, an excited look on her face as everyone stood by the entryway to the Zeta Gateway.
“There wasn’t anything recorded in the file on the Batcomputer. Maybe he’s another vigilante like Artemis and me.” Robin said.
“Hopefully, a better one than Bird Boy.” The snarky smirk the archer currently held was met with an unpleasant look from the Boy Wonder before their attention was redirected to the gateway, hearing the computer announcing their mentor's arrival.
Batman, Superman, and Flash came through one by one, while being followed by another individual none of them had recognized. The computer announced their name as a guest, which Robin figured was because he wasn’t fully registered into the Justice League systems yet.
He had a puzzling feeling about why Batman was being more secretive around this individual, seeing as he usually puts every single detail he can find on a person of interest into a file. Plus, he would always have things like registrations and paperwork taken care of before anything else was done.
Not to say it made him suspicious, but he was curious.
The others waited patiently while their superiors came into the mission room, followed by the individual who was carrying a small designer duffle bag. His clothes and look were simple, and he held a genuine and curious look in his eyes, tinged with a bit of uncertainty that Superboy managed to pick up as well from how hard he was staring and analyzing the boy from the moment he walked in. Though, if you asked him, he’d most definitely say he was not staring.
It wasn’t obvious, as the guy took whatever measures he could to hide it, but he could tell the young man came from wealth. It was a familiar aesthetic and look that the Kryptonian had come to learn by being friends with Boy Wonder and all, even if he wasn’t necessarily born into a rich family.
Plus, through certain missions and social events his ‘status’ would get him into, he’d had his fair share of interactions and hand-shaking with those who had more money than they would ever need. He’d begun to learn their various looks and covers. Most were unpleasant, hiding underneath a vain and inflated sense of superiority. Something he almost could relate to at one point, considering he used to believe his powers and abilities put him above everyone.
This guy was different, though. Conner couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about him was intriguing. Nobody he had ever met before made the young Kryptonian feel whatever that Earth saying was he’d heard M’Gann rambling about one time. Something about butterflies in the stomach.
Why one would even eat a butterfly was beyond him. Yet, the feeling she described was exactly what Conner was feeling in his stomach at the moment. His first immediate thought was that his stomach was broken and it took Zatanna, Artemis, and M’Gann explaining it with the help of Black Canary that a week and a half later he was nervous or scared.
“Hello, everyone. As I’m sure you’re already aware, we’ve decided to recruit a new addition to your team. His name is Y/N, and he’ll be staying here at the Cave for a few weeks while we get more details situated. Y/N, meet your new team.”
Everyone introduced themselves one by one to the recruit, and since Conner was on the end, he was the last one to be greeted which he now regretted. He started going over in his head how he should say ‘hi’, not wanting to come off too aggressive where he scared him, but also not wanting to sound like he was some weakling.
It took getting an elbow shoved into his side from Robin for him to notice everyone looking at him, including the reason for his distantness.
“Oh, uh… Sorry. Hello, I’m Boysuper.”
Everyone started laughing, including Superman and Flash, and Conner swore he saw a hint of a chuckle from Batman as well. It wasn’t until he thought back on his words and realized his mistake that he blushed embarrassingly. Though everyone found it funny, they were all more or less completely thrown off.
This behavior was completely out of character for Boysuper! If someone were writing a character analysis of him, they’d say this was completely unimaginable and not realistic at all. It wasn’t anything like him or something he would do.
Which is exactly what made it all the more shocking and funny.
Y/N, also tickled by the name mistake, gave him grace and just pretended it didn’t happen.
“Hi Superboy, nice to meet you.” His smile was something that clouded Conner's thoughts, focusing in on the innocence in his face and the twinkle in his eye as he looked back into the Kryptonian’s eyes.
For a fleeting moment, Superboy forgot everyone else was there as he reached his hand out to shake the others. As far as he knew, Kryptonians didn’t sweat, yet his palms felt hot and they felt damp. He was almost scared to touch the boy’s hand, thinking the man would find him gross and disgusting perspiring in his palm.
It didn’t happen, though. They shook hands, and Conner got a weird tingle up his arms that had him freaking out even more on the inside. But, the smile on Y/N’s face kept him rooted. Kept him from leaping off the ground like a spooked cat who’d just been electrocuted.
Despite his nervous feelings, seeing the beautiful face smiling at him made him feel happy on the inside. It was a nice feeling, a very welcomed feeling. Something he wanted to cherish and protect forever.
Wait, did he say beautiful?
At some point, Black Canary along with Superman helped explain to Superboy what he was feeling of desire and attraction, and that it was completely normal to have those feelings, no matter who they were aimed at.
Artemis was a little less careful and just stated the simple truth.
“You’ve got a crush lover-boy.”
Everyone chuckled and laughed at the statement and the somewhat irony behind the revelation.
That day, Y/N changed his perspective on the meaning and purpose of life. Before, he didn’t see the significance in the saying ‘You only live once.’ True, you do only live once, but if you live to do the same thing over and over each day, then what’s the point of living at all?
What was the point of getting to know things or wanting to improve and get better at something when we all had the same eventual fate, give or take how many years it took for it to come? What did life really mean if all it had was for you to wake up and do the same thing you did yesterday and the day before that?
It was one of the constant questions he had mulled over in his head since his liberation from Cadmus and being welcomed into the Team. His first and only purpose in life was to be a weapon. Now, besides doing good and saving the world now and then, he had the chance to do something meaningful with his life.
He just didn't know what meaningful was.
Until he met Y/N, who from the very moment they met had a way of bringing out the best in Conner and making him want to be a better person. It wasn't like the Kryptonian was a bad guy or anything. In fact, he was a great friend, teammate, and hero. But, there was something about the boy that just made him want to be a better version of himself.
Even despite the rocky start to their relationship.
"I'm telling you, there's something up with that kid. Batman said something about them needing to do 'more tests' and that he couldn't return back until they were sure he wouldn't be a liability," Conner spoke with his teammates in one of the library rooms in their base.
Conner had recently overheard a conversation between Y/N and Batman when he was going to try and 'confess' his feelings for him as his friends had encouraged him to do, even M'Gann. But, those plans were halted when he overheard the Dark Knight talking to the recruit about tests and making sure they wouldn't be bugged.
He mentioned something about the school Y/N was attending and how they also had to make sure his parents wouldn't be a liability or get caught in the crossfire. The biggest thing that caught the Kryptonian's attention was when Batman said he had to absolutely keep his full identity a secret from the rest of the team, especially from Conner himself.
And, no matter how sad and reluctant Y/N sounded when he agreed to Batman's instructions and feeling a strong urge to comfort him, he didn't waste a second before running back to his friends and telling them everything. After the Red Tornado ordeal with his siblings, he didn't want to take any chances, no matter how his heart felt.
Everyone seemed on the fence though when he first told them. They all had gotten along really well with Y/N during his first few days and didn't want to think the guy could be a threat to him. But, they'd all learned from their mistakes in the past, and so decided they needed more information before they proceeded with anything.
Dick had pointed out that there still wasn't much in Y/N's file that he could find besides his background. The only solid things he was able to find were about his parents and how they shared very similar views with Lex Luthor on supers. It wasn't enough for them to outright accuse him of being up to no good but it was something for them to look into.
The Boy Wonder suggested the best way to learn more about him was to spy on him, and despite how much it didn't feel right to Conner, he agreed to do it. They know confronting him directly wasn't the best strategy, especially if he was being told by Batman to not reveal anything to them. They needed to be covert.
That's what led them to this moment right now. Conner had just overheard another of Y/N's conversations, only this time he was talking to his parents. Everything seemed fine at first, despite the obvious fact that his parents had no clue their son was currently living in a cave with a bunch of teenage superheroes and vigilantes. The Kryptonian was ready to call it quits, already feeling guilty enough for listening in on such a private conversation until...
"Yeah, everything's great at the school. I'm having a lot of fun and have met some very interesting people. And, yes, Uncle Lex has been really nice to me. His tests have been effective so far and he's confident he'll reach a solution soon."
That confirmed everything the Kryptonian and the others needed to know. They were all convinced Y/N was a mole sent here to spy on them and the Justice League for Lex Luthor. They were going to bring it to Batman, but Dick once again pointed out the conversation Conner heard earlier between the Dark Knight and the recruit, and that he was probably already aware of everything and was investigating on his own.
But this was their team, and they were going to do whatever they could to protect it. So, they decided to set up a trap for the mole.
Dick created a fake mission while Wally, Artemis, and Zantanna went to recruit Y/N to come with them. They spun a fake story about the League being in danger and that they needed all hands on deck. Of course, Y/N was willing to help them. He didn't ask questions and just followed them to where they were supposed to meet up with the others.
They had to wait for a few minutes for everyone else to arrive. Y/N was sitting on the ground, waiting patiently and trying to make conversation with everyone. When they finally arrived, Dick began his 'fake' briefing.
He decided to trust them, but something still felt off. And he didn't know why, but the look Conner was giving him let him know he wasn't being given the full truth.
"Alright, team. We have a situation. The League has been compromised and we're the only ones who can save them."
"What's going on?" Y/N asked, confused.
"The League has been captured and is being held by Lex Luthor. We don't know what he's planning, we only know that they need our help," Dick explained, not even batting an eye at the ridiculousness of the situation he was describing.
"And, how do you know all this?" Y/N questioned, confused as to why Batman wasn't the one giving the briefing.
"Batman told us before he got captured. He managed to send us a signal before Luthor's goons cut him off. We're the only ones who can help," Artemis added.
"How do we know they're really in trouble?" Y/N inquired, looking at everyone and their lack of gear or weapons.
"We have to trust Batman," Wally answered, trying his best to act as natural as possible.
"I don't know, guys. Something doesn't feel right about this," Y/N muttered, trying to figure out what was happening.
"Y/N, we're the only ones who can save Batman, the Flash, and the others. We need you," M'Gann pleaded, placing her hand on his shoulder.
Y/N was hesitant, not sure if what they were saying was true. He thought back on his conversation with Batman and how he made him promise not to tell the team about him and his family until they had everything figured out. But, if he was really in danger...
"Okay. Let's go."
And that's how Y/N found himself tied to a tree in a random park near his boarding school. A convenient location, the others thinking it would trick a confession out of the mole. But, when Y/N instead was warning them that by bringing him there, they were putting not only him in danger, but themselves and the League.
They didn't believe him at first, thinking this was just the cover story he was using if he got caught. But, then Batman, Superman, and the Flash found the young team of heroes and vigilantes would soon realize their mistake.
"Tell us the truth, now! Why are you here?" Kaldur demanded.
"I'm telling you I don't know what you're talking about," Y/N insisted.
"How dumb do you think we are? We know you're working with Lex Luthor. Just admit it!" Artemis spat, annoyed that the boy was trying to lie to their faces.
"Yeah!" Wally added, throwing peanuts from his snack compartment at the boy's face.
"Seriously, KF?" Dick said.
"What? Maybe if he has a peanut allergy, this will make him fess up."
"I don't have a peanut allergy."
"Oh, well. Now, it's just for fun," Kid Flash said before throwing more at him.
"Okay, this is just getting ridiculous. We know you're working with Luthor. I overheard your little conversation with your parents about Uncle Lex's tests," Conner said, his tone carrying its usual hard edge, but not as much aggression as it would be for someone else.
"You were eavesdropping on me?"
"That's not important. What's important is you confessing what you're doing here. What are you trying to do? What's your mission?"
"I don't have a mission. I don't know what you're talking about and what you overheard, you heard out of context," Y/N stated, the last part aimed at Conner who looked away from his hurt gaze.
"Y/N, please," M'Gann pleaded.
"I'm telling you the truth. I'm not working for anybody, and even if I was, it wouldn't be with Lex Luthor of all people. But, we seriously need to leave. We're not too far from the school, and if he finds out I was here, with all of you out of all people, it's going to cause more trouble than ever."
"Alright, Zatanna. Truth spell him..."
"He's already telling the truth."
Everyone turned around to see Batman, Superman, and Flash approaching with not-very-pleased looks. Then again, when has Batman ever looked pleased?
"Then, why didn't you tell us?" Dick asked with an accusatory tone toward his mentor.
"Because we didn't want this to happen," Flash stated, looking over at Y/N and the mess their young protegees made.
"What, so you don't trust us all of a sudden?" Artemis accused.
"This had nothing to do with trust, it had everything to do with a delicate situation."
"What situation?" Wally asked.
"A delicate one," Batman reiterated.
"Y/N is being used by Lex Luthor," Superman began explaining.
"So, he's not a mole?" M'Gann asked.
"No, he's not a mole. He's actually the exact opposite. His family is a known affiliate of Lex Luthor, and he's been using their known distrust of Superman, myself, and the rest of the League as a way to perform experiments on him with the promise of removing his powers at the request of his parents. However, someone like Lex, we can be sure has other purposes for these experiments. Purposes he intends to use for his own advantage and as a means to target the League," Batman continued.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Conner questioned, feeling even more guilty while glancing back at the recruit who was currently rubbing his wrists, having been freed from his restraints by Superman.
"Because we didn't want you getting involved. Lex has eyes and ears everywhere, especially in that school, and if he were to discover our involvement, it could put Y/N and his family in danger," The older Kryptonian pointed out, while placing a reassuring hand on the younger male's shoulder, who held a slightly worried look at the mention of his parents being put in possible danger.
Despite his still guilty feelings, something in him felt he should have gone over to comfort the younger male. He along with the rest of his teammates apologized to Y/N for their distrust before making their way back to Mount Justice.
Since everything was out in the open, Batman gave Y/N the okay to share with the others everything about his background. And share he did. He told the entire story of how everything came to be.
His parents had always been more or less distrusting towards Superman, The Flash, Wonder Woman, etc., and saw their powers and abilities not as ways that could help protect regular people like themselves and others, but as a means to oppression. They felt the very thing that made them superheroes gave them an unfair advantage over others.
Kind of how other people saw their super wealthy status as an unfair advantage over people of a lower class but that's another discussion for another day.
So imagine their surprise when their very own son ended up manifesting his own powers early on in his childhood. It started with small things like enhanced durability and moving at inhuman speeds.
But then, when it turned into being able to fly and manipulating energies in his teenage years, his parents had had enough. They were afraid their son was going to become just like the superheroes they hated so much. And, they were afraid of what he could do if his powers became too out of control.
So, they did the only thing they could think of.
They turned to Lex Luthor for help.
They told him about their situation and how they were desperate for help. They didn't want their son to be a danger to himself or others. Lex promised them he'd do everything he could to help their son and to try and remove his abilities.
The wealthy elite suggested sending him to one of the prestigious boarding schools that he funded. It was a school that catered to kids with extraordinary talents and abilities. They would provide him with an excellent education and would have the best teachers and professors teach him.
As a bonus, they were very confidential and private with their students and wouldn't share any information without explicit consent. That meant even if his parents were to come by and ask, they wouldn't be able to say anything, thus keeping their son's secret abilities safe.
However, they were none the wiser to Lex's true intentions. With these experiments, he'd finally have the advantage he needed to rid the world of Superman and the Justice League. But, of course, things wouldn't be that easy.
But, when Batman, Superman, and Flash came to his school in their civilian identities but still in disguise, they offered him the chance to truly understand and control his powers along with a spot to join their team of young superheroes as a new recruit. They also promised to find a way to end these experiments with Lex as Y/N explained that he hadn't met success with getting rid of them, but he did suspect he was up to no good, he just didn't know what to do as he knew his parents wouldn't listen to him.
It's why Batman also initially told him not to tell his new teammates anything about himself, at least until they found a way where Y/N could work and be protected from the experiments without putting his family at risk. Lex was known to be crafty and wouldn't hesitate to use the young teenager's parents as leverage to force him to comply
"Of course, I want to use my powers for good and help people. It's why I came with Batman and the others in the first place. But, not if it means I could put my parents in danger. Yeah, we have our differences, and they're not the most accepting of my abilities. But, they're still my family and I don't want anything bad to happen to them."
The others all felt for the young man and apologized again for their mistrust and promised to do whatever they could to help him out. They were a team after all, and a team sticks together through thick and thin.
Conner, on the other hand, still felt guilty for accusing him and even considering he was a mole. Y/N, however, was more understanding and forgiving than the Kryptonian thought he deserved.
"Ah, don't be too hard on yourself, Conner. If I were you, I would have probably done the same thing."
"Really? You don't hate me?"
"Why would I hate you? Sure, you accused me of being a spy for a supervillain, but it was only because you wanted to protect your team and the League. How can I hate you for that?"
Conner had been stunned by the younger male's response. He wasn't mad at him or even holding a grudge. He wasn't even holding the peanut incident against him. He was just so understanding. The Kryptonian knew if the situation were reversed, Y/N would be considered lucky if he hadn't blown up at him.
 It was then Conner realized that maybe he felt something more for the young man than just a simple crush.
He thought about how much he admired how positive and enduring Y/N was, despite the challenges he was overcoming. His parents not accepting him, being used as a pawn to hurt others, and the same people meant to protect and love him allowing it, despite them being ignorant to it. But, the younger male still held onto hope and wanted to use his powers for good. He saw the best in people and wanted to help them, no matter what.
Y/N had this infectious energy about him. He always did everything with a smile and a positive attitude, no matter how much his life proved to be the opposite of positive. Yeah, he was a bit naive, but despite all that, and all of the things he'd been subjected to, he was innocent and pure.
He was like an angel, a light shining in a sea of darkness. And, Conner wanted to be the person that light shined on. The Kryptonian wanted to protect and cherish him. He wanted to hold him in his arms and never let go. He wanted to love him.
And, Y/N wanted to love him back.
He didn't care that Conner's temper was a bit short or that he could be a bit stubborn and aggressive. He understood he was just a boy raised to be a weapon. He had been taught to view the world in a certain way, and it was only now that he was learning there was more to life than that.
He understood that despite his gruffness, it was just the way Conner had learned to live, and that deep down he was a very loving and caring person.
Of course, their eventual getting together was nothing like anyone had expected, despite them waiting for the two idiots to confess their obvious feelings for each other.
It had been about a month since the incident with the fake mission and the eventual truth about Y/N being revealed to the team. After returning to Mount Justice and going over some logistics with the rest of the Justice League, they all got a debriefing from Batman on what would happen from there.
They knew that they couldn't risk keeping him away too long, otherwise, Lex would get suspicious and alert his parents. So, Y/N would go back to school as per usual, but he'd be under the surveillance of a team of League members disguised as his teachers and other staff. They would keep an eye on him and Lex Luthor's experiments and if they became too much, they'd intervene.
Conner, however, was not happy about this arrangement. He wanted to be the one who would look out for the younger male, but the Dark Knight had other plans.
"I can't allow you to do that. If we have you constantly watching over him, it'll be too obvious. He'll be under constant surveillance and have League members watching over him at all times. You'll be too obvious, Conner."
"Then, I'll just go back with him. I can stay in the school, and watch over him. I won't leave his side."
"Conner, the school isn't equipped for a teenage boy with Kryptonian abilities. We can't allow you to be there with him. If you go, it'll just put him in more danger." Superman said, attempting to reason with him.
"But, what if he gets hurt? What if Luthor does something? What if..."
"Conner, please. I'm going to be fine. You heard what Batman and the others said. They're going to be right there with me and won't let anything happen. They'll protect me." Y/N said, placing a hand on the younger Krypontian's arm to reassure him.
"Besides, we've worked out a way to disrupt Lex's experiments. With the help of our scientists at S.T.A.R. Labs, we've created a dilution solution. Whatever Lex decides to inject him with, these solutions will work to nullify them. It'll give us more time to figure out a way to end these experiments for good and won't pose any risk to Y/N's powers." Batman explained.
Conner wasn’t happy with the idea, not one bit. But he knew he had no choice but to let Y/N go with it, no matter how much he hated it.
"Of course, he'll still be a part of this team. We're setting up a new Zeta Gateway near the school, and one of our agents will make sure he gets there safely and without alerting Lex. Y/N will come here after his classes and sessions with Lex to report anything new as well as keep his training up."
With that, Black Canary and Captain Marvel came forward with a box, handing it over to Y/N with a smile. The young man opened it excitedly to find a brand new super-suit, specially made and tailored for him.
"Welcome to the Team, Primus."
The other members congratulated him with cheers, hugs, and claps, a little bit more enthusiastically than they would have with someone else, but it was deserved. He'd already shown to be an amazing member of the team and an amazing friend, and they were happy to have him.
They celebrated later that day on the beach, before Y/N's eventual departure. Batman made it seem as if he was on a vacation with his parents while he was here at Mount Justice, so he knew he'd have to return eventually to prevent any eyes from getting raised.
Everyone was having fun, playing, swimming, and laughing. At some point, they all ended up lounging around on the sand, laying or sitting on their various blankets and chairs while watching the sun slowly descend towards the horizon, signaling the closer approach of Y/N's leaving.
"I have a question," Y/N suddenly said, "I had meant to ask this before after everything that happened last month but kept forgetting. When Batman told me to keep my background a secret from you all, he specifically kept telling me to not tell Conner about my connection to Lex. Why?"
Everyone looked around at each other, before settling their gaze on Conner, who looked down at the ground with his eyebrows furrowed.
"Well, it's a bit of a long story," Dick began, not wanting the boy to feel awkward with his question.
"I'm Superman's clone," Conner interrupted, silencing not just the Boy Wonder but everyone around him as he continued, "I was made in a lab from the DNA of both Superman and Lex Luthor to be a weapon against the Justice League. I'm not an actual person, and if it wasn't for these guys, I'd still be in Cadmus, probably sitting in a pod right now."
Y/N seemed taken aback, not saying anything as Conner continued to look down at the sand in shame. He was afraid of revealing the truth to Y/N, thinking he wouldn't see him as an actual person.
However, he, along with everyone else, was more than shocked at his response.
"Wow, you are a miracle to all the gays around the world."
There was a beat of silence before a chorus of laughter erupted around them. Wally, Artemis, and Dick did nothing to hide their hysteria while Zatanna and Kaldur attempted to conceal their own chuckles. M'Gann and Conner were both confused, but the Martian laughed as well, while the Kryptonian was just looking at the younger male in front of him, his cheeks turning red.
"I-I don't know what that means."
"Let's just say I know some people who kill to have someone like you in their lives. You're more special than you know," Y/N answered, smiling at him.
Conner was shocked, not expecting that response.
"You don't think less of me?"
"Of course not. Why would I?"
"Because of what I am. What I was made for and who I was made from."
"I don't care about any of that. You're you, and you're the one that makes you, you. Not what other people made you to be if that makes sense," Y/N said with a humorous, confused look that Conner couldn't help but smile at," You're a person, Conner, and I think you're amazing," Y/N looked at the Kryptonian with a smile who had the blush on his face returning even more.
"Thank you."
"Hey, guys. The sun is going down. We should take a picture," Dick suddenly said, pointing out the setting sun.
They all gathered around for a group photo, Y/N and Conner being the closest, with the younger male leaning into the Kryptonian. It was a great moment for all of them, and the perfect way to start their journey as a team.
Eventually, the sun had set and it was time for Y/N to make his departure. He made his goodbyes to everyone, promising he would be back soon before eventually stopping in front of Conner who nervously looked down at the boy, his emotions still all over the place from their previous conversation.
"Can I actually talk to you in private before you go?" The Kryptonian asked.
Y/N looked a little shocked and turned to Batman who gave his nod of approval, "You've got five minutes."
The two boys walked a bit away from the group, the others looking on with eager faces and eyes as they not so subtly tried to see what was happening.
"Um, I just wanted to apologize again for everything that happened. I know it was stupid, but I didn't want anything bad to happen to the Team or the League. And, I thought if there was a chance you could be a mole or something, I needed to find out. But, I realized that it was stupid, and I was just being paranoid..."
Without even realizing it, Conner began to ramble and Y/N had to take his hand to get him to stop talking, "Conner, it's okay. I told you, I already forgave you for that. And, remember, I was the one who said you were justified in doing it. You were trying to protect your team and that's something I respect and admire."
"You do?" Conner asked, feeling a bit hopeful.
"Of course, I do. You were willing to do anything to protect the people you care about, and that's admirable. I could never hold that against you. My own parents don't trust me just because I have powers and sent me away to a boarding school to be experimented on in hopes of getting rid of them. You only reacted the way you did because you were worried about the people you cared about and loved. Something only a real person is capable of doing," Y/N said.
Conner didn't know what had come over him, but the feeling of Y/N's hands in his own and the sincerity of his words had him pulling the younger male in for a deep kiss, his lips fitting perfectly against his own.
Y/N was surprised, but after a moment, he wrapped his arms around Conner's neck and deepened the kiss, not even realizing the shocked expressions of the people around them.
"It's about time," Artemis muttered.
Y/N had left back to his school and sessions with Lex and returned to Mount Justice within a month where he'd reported everything that had happened. The dilutions were working for the most part and Lex was none the wiser from what he could tell.
And once the Zeta Gateway was set up, Y/N was able to return every other night or when he was needed for a mission. It gave him the time he needed with the Black Canary and the other League members to test and train his powers.
Conner, on the other hand, had a new drive. He was less of the brooding and angry teen he used to be and was a lot more caring and less abrupt and aggressive. Y/N had made him want to do better, to be better than he was before.
And with their new relationship, Conner was more determined than ever to protect Y/N and keep him safe, no matter what. As far as the Kryptonian was concerned, no one would be allowed to hurt him. Not Lex Luthor, not his parents, no one.
Their relationship developed and deepened very quickly during their time together with the two becoming nearly inseparable. When Y/N would come to the Cave, Conner would frequently join in on his training sessions with Black Canary, and he would realize how fast of a learner his boyfriend was.
Within a couple of months, he was able to adapt and adjust to his powers, growing more confident and powerful. He was even able to keep up with the Kryptonian's own speed and strength, something that impressed the others.
"I can't believe how much he's improved in such a short amount of time," Dick said.
"Yeah, he's been doing well. I've never seen anyone adapt to their powers so quickly," Wally added.
"Yeah, well. With the right motivation, I think anyone can do anything," Kaldur said, watching the two lovers spar with each other while shirtless from across the room.
"Yeah, I bet," Artemis said, watching the two as well.
"Conner's become really protective of him," M'Gann said.
"Yeah, well. When you're dating a guy with superpowers by someone who's kind of your arch-nemesis, you tend to get a bit protective," Dick pointed out.
"You think we should do something about it?" Wally asked.
"What do you mean?" M'Gann questioned.
"I don't know. It just seems like Conner's gotten a bit more possessive than usual. I mean, Y/N can't even go to school without him worrying. And, he's always asking about him and his progress with his powers. It's like he's obsessed or something."
"Well, it's not like he's done anything wrong," Zatanna pointed out, "We don't even know what's going to happen with his parents and Luthor. I mean, imagine how Conner must feel when Y/N has to go back to the school and those experiments and he can't do anything about it."
"Plus, the fact his family is essentially allowing this, whether they know about the full situation or not," Kaldur added.
"Yeah. I mean, the guy was practically raised in a lab and was used as a weapon by that same jerk. So, the idea of his boyfriend's family being involved with his arch-nemesis would definitely get his panties in a twist," Artemis added
"Well, hopefully, we can figure something out soon. I'm not sure how much longer Conner can handle it."
"I think we should just let things play out. If it gets to a point where it's affecting our missions or our teamwork, then we can intervene. But, for now, I think we should just let them be," Kaldur said, ending the conversation.
As if on cue, the two boys finished their sparring match, with Y/N pinning Conner down against the floor.
"I win," Y/N said with a smile.
"Only because I let you," Conner replied.
"No, you didn't. You just couldn't handle me. I'm just too fast and strong for you," Y/N teased before letting them both up.
"Oh, yeah? Well, let's see who's too fast and strong now," Conner said before grabbing Y/N and throwing him over his shoulder.
The Kryptonian carried him around the room, his boyfriend laughing and protesting while the others just rolled their eyes.
"Alright lovebirds, that's enough flirting. We've got a mission," Dick said.
"Yes Father," Y/N replied sarcastically before having the Kryptonian put him down who had a disgruntled face at being interrupted, "Stop pouting, you big baby."
"I'm not pouting," Conner mumbled.
"You're totally pouting."
"I'm not."
"You are."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"No."
"Yes."
"Haha! I win!" Y/N said before giving Conner a peck on the cheek, causing the Kryptonian to smile while his boyfriend checked his phone, "Oh Crap, I didn't realize how late it was. I have to get back to the school."
"Do you have to go?" Conner asked, his arms wrapping around his waist.
"You know I do. We don't want to alert anyone. I promise I'll be back later, okay?" Y/N said, cupping the Kryptonian's face.
Conner nodded before leaning down and capturing the younger male's lips in a sweet kiss.
"I'll see you later."
"Bye, babe."
"See you later, Y/N," The others called out as the young male made his way to the Zeta Gateway.
"Man, I don't know how he does it. If I had a boyfriend like Conner, I don't think I'd ever leave," Artemis said.
"Yeah, well. I think the only reason he's able to is because of the fact that he's being experimented on by his parents' best friend and his parents are okay with it. He wants to be there to protect his parents and keep them safe, despite what they're doing," Dick pointed out.
"I hope we can find a solution soon," Wally said, "I can't imagine what Conner's feeling."
"Yeah, we'll figure something out," Kaldur said, before they made their way to the mission briefing.
Things continued on like that for almost a little over a year. During the day, Y/N would attend his classes and sessions with Lex while still taking the dilutions S.T.A.R. Lab made for him. Then, at night, he traveled back to Mount Justice for training, any missions he was needed on, and to provide updates to the League while they worked on shutting the experiments for good.
He'd come far in his development and was no longer the helpless kid who had no control over his powers. He was now a superhero in his own right and had become a very important member of the team.
Plus, he and Conner were as close as could be, deeply in love with each other and always together. The Kryptonian was still a bit protective and possessive of the younger male, but not to the point where it was interfering with the team. If anything, it had the opposite effect.
When they were out in the field, Conner was more determined and focused than ever, especially if Y/N was involved.
He still went out of his way to make sure the younger male was safe, even taking on the responsibility of walking him back to his campus at night, in disguise of course. Batman objected to it at first, but knowing how stubborn Conner was, especially when it came to Y/N, he decided to allow it.
And that's where Y/N got to discover the jealous side of his boyfriend when they ran into his roommate one night the Kryptonian escorted him back.
"Hey, Y/N. Who's this?"
"Oh, this is CJ, my boyfriend. CJ, this is my roommate, Mason." Y/N said.
Conner gave his boyfriend a look at the fake name before turning back to the other present male, "Nice to meet you," he said, a bit more gruff than he intended.
"Same here. I'm glad to finally meet you, Y/N's told me a lot about you. Well, when he's here."
"I'm sure," Conner replied, trying not to sound as jealous as he was.
"Well, I'm gonna head back. I'll see you back in our room, Y/N" Mason said.
Conner did not like how suggestive that sounded and was glaring daggers into the retreating boy's back. He should have considered himself lucky that the Kryptonian didn't have heat vision, otherwise he'd be a pile of ash on the ground.
"You okay, babe?" Y/N asked, seeing his boyfriend's expression.
"I don't like him," Conner stated.
"Why? Because he's my roommate?"
"Yes. He's your roommate. And he's a guy. A guy who spends a lot of time around you. A guy who sleeps in the same room as you and knows you have a boyfriend. A guy who probably has a crush on you and is probably fantasizing about you being with him right now."
"Conner, you're being ridiculous," Y/N said, rolling his eyes.
"I am not. I know what guys like him are thinking about. He wants to get into your pants."
"So, what? Do you think I'm just going to let him? Or that I'm not capable of fending him off?"
"I know you can, but that doesn't mean he won't try. And, I don't like the idea of you being alone with him. You need to switch rooms."
"What? Just for me to end up in another room with another guy?"
"Doesn't this place offer single rooms?"
"Yes, but they're for seniors only."
"What about CO-ED?"
"I-... Really, Conner?"
"What kind of prestigious institution is this? Fine, you're moving into the Cave then, and you'll share my room with me. Your actual boyfriend."
"Conner, I can't..."
"Why not?"
"Because it's not safe. If I'm not here, my parents will get suspicious. What if they try and contact me, and I'm not here? They'll get worried and call Lex, and then he'll get suspicious. I can't risk it."
Conner sighed, knowing his boyfriend was right.
"Have I mentioned how much I don't like your parents?" Conner muttered.
"Yes, you have. Multiple times."
"Good."
That wouldn't be the last time Conner would suggest Y/N moving into the Cave, and no matter how much the younger male wanted to, he knew he had to stay at the school.
In their time together, Y/N had become one of the most, if not, the most important people in the Kryptonian's life. He was the light in the darkness, and Conner couldn't imagine his life without him.
However, the strain of the situation was beginning to show.
Lex had started to increase the intensity and frequency of the experiments, and Batman and the other League members weren't having much luck trying to figure out how to stop them. They weren't having much luck with Y/N's parents either, trying to subtly change their views on the League and Lex Luthor to help them see the potential mess they were creating by allowing these experiments to happen, but it was to no avail.
Conner could feel himself getting angrier and more impatient. He wanted to protect Y/N and help him in any way he could and was tired of not being able to do anything.
He'd also become frustrated with the League and his teammates. They were so focused on making sure they didn't make things worse that they were neglecting the actual problem.
When Y/N started slipping in training and showing signs of ill effects, Conner became even more worried and stressed every time the boy left back for school. Not being able to know if something happened to him while he was there was driving the boy up the wall, and as a result, he became more persistent in his efforts to get Y/N to stay in the Cave where he could protect him.
None of them were successful of course. But, things were slowly getting more out of control and dangerous, and Conner didn't know how much more he could take before he lost it.
"Y/N, keep up! Come on," Black Canary shouted as she ran the team through different training drills.
Batman and Superman were also there observing the training. They were there to discuss potential updates to the situation after meeting with the League, but they, especially the Kryptonian showed signs of worry at the younger superhero's seemingly exhausted state.
"He's been training a lot lately. Maybe he's just tired," M'Gann suggested.
"Maybe, but this is unusual. Even for him," Dick said.
"He's been a bit off lately," Artemis added.
"Maybe it's because of the experiments," Wally suggested.
"We don't know that," Kaldur said.
"Well, what else could it be? You saw how he was acting yesterday. He was exhausted, and his powers were all over the place. He's not getting any better. If anything, he's getting worse," Artemis said.
Her words kept everyone silent as none of them could deny the obvious fact sitting in front of them. It didn't help that Conner was already upset about the situation as a whole and the fact that the League had allowed it to go on as long as it did was only making his anger worse, something everyone could see.
"Alright, that's enough for today," Black Canary finally said.
"Are you sure? We still have some time left," Zatanna asked.
"We can finish up tomorrow. I think we all need a break. We've been working hard lately and need some time to ourselves. You can come down, Y/N!"
"I agree," Superman said, "You guys have been doing great. You deserve some time to yourselves."
"I'm going to go see if Y/N is alright," Conner said.
"Maybe we should let him rest for a bit, Conner," M'Gann said.
"What? Why? He's my boyfriend which makes him my concern. So, I'm going to see if he's alright."
"I think M'Gann is right, Conner. You should let him rest for a bit before you see him," Dick said.
"Is that an order?" Conner asked, his eyes narrowing.
"Conner, we're just saying that—"
"Oh my god!"
The Kryptonian was about to make a retort, but the sound of a scream stopped him. Everyone turned to see Y/N falling from the sky, his body limp.
"Y/N!"
Conner didn't waste a second and leaped off the ground towards his boyfriend. He caught him just in time before he hit the ground, his body hanging limply in his arms.
"Y/N! Y/N!" Conner said, shaking him, but the younger male didn't respond.
The Kryptonian's eyes were furious as he turned to the League members who had rushed over, "This is all your fault!"
"Conner, calm down. We're going to figure this out," Batman said.
"No! All of this is your fault. You and the entire League! You all knew this was happening, and you let it continue. You didn't do anything to stop it, and now look at him!"
"Conner, please. I know you're upset, but you need to calm down. We need to figure out what's wrong with Y/N."
"What's wrong with him?! You guys have been using him as your little guinea pig for over a year and now that something's wrong, you're suddenly concerned? You're all a bunch of hypocrites!"
"Conner, please. Let's just get Y/N to the med bay and see what's wrong," M'Gann said.
"Fine!" The Kryptonian shouted before following the others towards the medical bay, his boyfriend still held tightly in his arms.
Y/N was placed on the bed, while the League and the Team watched as Red Tornado checked his vitals.
Batman sent out an emergency call and had some medical professionals from S.T.A.R. Labs come to Mount Justice to figure out what was going on. His diagnosis wasn't good.
"His vitals are improving, thankfully. But, it seems his body is under a lot of stress."
"What does that mean?"
"From initial tests, it seems that the combination of whatever he's being injected with combined with our solutions to dilute and nullify them are causing his immune system to feel like it's getting attacked from two ends."
"But, this wasn't happening before when Y/N started taking the dilutions?"
"Yes, because whatever serums Mr. Luthor was using weren't as strong. We can only assume he's gotten more persistent and amped up the intensity of his tests. Combined with our dilutions, now, not only are they fighting with each other, but it's causing his body to fight itself as well. We need further tests to confirm, but what I can say is that since these experiments are primarily designed to extract and/or remove his powers, his use of them in combat or training causes more stress than he can handle."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that Y/N's body is rejecting the combination of both the serums and our solutions, and the only way to prevent further harm is to stop using them."
"But, that'll mean he won't have any way to counteract the effects of the serums," Superman said.
"Yes. But, it's the only way to prevent further damage. His body is essentially going into a sort of self-defense mode and is attacking itself. We need to stop it now before it gets worse and becomes permanent. Right now, it's only affecting his immune system, but if it continues, it'll affect other parts of his body, and we won't be able to save him."
The doctor unhooked him from the machines, packing his things before being escorted back to S.T.A.R. Labs by Black Canary and Captain Marvel. The room was quiet as Conner stood by Y/N's side while glaring at the Dark Knight.
"You knew this was happening, didn't you?"
"Conner, you need—"
"No! Don't tell me what I need to do. You knew this was happening, and you did nothing. You were fine with just sitting around and doing nothing, letting this happen. You let Y/N get hurt and put him in danger."
"Superboy! That's enough." Aqualad ordered.
"Dude, you think they've been sitting around doing nothing? That's all they've been doing trying to figure out how to shut this all down while dealing with other stuff. Batman even tried going to Y/N's parents directly to get them to see reason." Dick tried to argue on his mentor's behalf.
"And, look where that got us. Y/N nearly died today because of the crap you've all been subjecting him to. It's been over a year and you still haven't done anything. He's the one suffering while all of you get to just sit back and watch."
"Conner, please. We're trying. They just need more time," M'Gann pleaded.
"Time? Y/N could have died today. Do you understand that? I could have lost him. And, it would have been all of their faults."
"Conner, please. I know you're upset, but you can't blame them. They've been trying their best," Zatanna said.
"No, they haven't. If they were doing their best, they would've confronted Luthor directly and put an end to this shitshow months ago!"
"That would've just put Y/N and his family in more danger! They can't just go around accusing someone like Lex Luthor who is known to cover his tracks without any proof!" Artemis argued.
"Conner, enough. We all get how you feel, but they've done everything we can," Kaldur said.
"Really? Cause, from where I'm standing, they've done nothing, " He said before turning his heated gaze to Batman, who stayed silent during all of this, "You're all a bunch of cowards."
"Conner!" Superman yelled.
"No, fuck all of you. I'll save Y/N myself if I have to," He said, before picking Y/N's unconscious body off the bed and exiting the med bay towards his room.
"Should we stop him?" Wally asked.
"No, let him go," Batman answered, "He needs time to cool down."
"He's right though, isn't he?" Dick asked, "We've been putting this off for too long. We've been waiting for the League to handle this, but they haven't done anything."
"We've been trying," Superman said.
"And, yet, you haven't gotten anywhere. Despite his reaction, Conner's right. You've just been sitting around and waiting for something to happen. What have you done to stop this from happening?" Wally asked with a pointed look.
"We've been trying to find evidence against Luthor, but he's been hiding it well. We need to find a way to expose him and bring him down without risking Y/N and his parents. We can't afford to lose this."
"Well, let's hope something can get figured out soon because I don't think Conner can handle any more of this. None of us can," Kaldur said, the tone of his words hanging heavy in the air as he and the rest of the team made their way out of the med bay as well.
Y/N had woken up a couple of hours later, finding himself being held by a softly snoring Conner whose grip around him was so secure, you'd think the Kryptonian was guarding a treasure.
He smiled at the sight, not wanting to disturb his boyfriend, but the Kryptonian sensed his movement and woke up. The second he laid eyes on you, a softness appeared on his face as he brought a hand to caress Y/N's face who smiled back at him while leaning into his hand.
"Should I be worried about this being a regular thing?"
Conner didn't respond, but the slight smile across his lips indicated he was happy to see Y/N could still make a joke out of anything. The younger boy started to look around, wondering how he even got there in the first place.
"What happened? Last thing I remember was being in training, and then nothing else," He asked, turning back to the Kryptonian.
Conner still didn't say anything, just leaned over and pressed a kiss against the boy's lips, forcing him to lay back as he positioned himself over him. Y/N wasn't complaining at the move, kissing back with as much fever and passion as the Kryptonian.
When he broke the kiss apart, Conner just leaned his head down into his neck while being careful not to lay all his weight on the boy, placing small kisses on his neck and breathing in his scent. Y/N brought his arms around the boy, giving small caresses to his back, sensing the boy needed this quiet moment.
He could tell whatever happened wasn't good, and it would likely upset Conner in talking about it. That's when he suggested going to the common room to watch TV, having more time to cuddle, and just relax after what must have been a stressful day. Plus, based on the way he was acting now, Y/N knew his boyfriend wasn't planning on letting him out of his sight for the rest of the night.
Without a word, Conner hopped up off the bed, picking his boyfriend up in his arms, and carrying him out of the room.
"You know, my legs work just fine. Just thought I should remind you," Y/N joked, finally getting a smile from the Kryptonian.
"Shut up and let me take care of you idiot."
"Whatever you say, honey."
"I hate that nickname."
Eventually, Y/N discovered what happened, after he practically had to force Conner to give him his phone which he needed to get back to his dorm and the Kryptonian all but exploded on him for even considering the idea of going back to that place. He knew the experiments were getting worse, and he could feel the effect it was having on his body.
The only thing he didn't realize was how much of an effect it was having on Conner and even his friends who all were concerned for his well being after watching him nearly split open his skull after fainting mid-flight and plummeting towards the ground. But, in the end, all he could think of was his parents and not putting them in danger.
It didn't matter though, because the Kryptonian had made his decision, and he made it clear not only to his boyfriend but to the rest of the team and their superiors. Either he goes with Y/N back to the school and stays with him full-time, or Y/N would remain at Mount Justice and transfer to Happy Harbor and they would just have to figure out another plan to protect his parents.
Surprisingly, he wasn't met with any opposition. Everyone agreed with him. While the League was still concerned about the potential consequences of these actions and the dangers they could bring, they realized their hesitance had already put Y/N in a more than dangerous position that could have cost him his life.
While the League still had a plan in motion and would be monitoring the situation, they knew things had escalated beyond their control. They decided to follow Conner's suggestion, having the Kryptonian pose as a transfer student, allowing him to attend the school and stay by his boyfriend's side.
He was moved into his own dorm with a roommate (despite his initial demands that he be placed in the same room as Y/N, but there was only so much they could do without raising heads) and placed in all his classes. Conner became like his personal bodyguard, making sure he was never alone or in the presence of anyone they didn't know or trust.
He was unpleasantly surprised to find out it was an all-boys school, and it only made the Kryptonian even more suspicious of his classmates, especially the ones who seemed too friendly or close to his boyfriend.
Y/N was not amused.
"Conner, please, stop glaring at everyone."
"I'm not glaring. I'm just observing."
"Observing, glaring. Same difference."
"What? They're all just staring at you. Like, they're undressing you with their eyes. It's disgusting. And you should've told me this was an all-boys school!"
"I didn't tell you because I didn't think it mattered. Plus, I knew you would react this way. Besides, they're not undressing me with their eyes."
"Just because you don't see it, doesn't mean they're not doing it. And what do you mean you knew I'd react this way?"
"Conner, sweetie, I love you, but you've got to be one of the most jealous people I've ever met."
"Okay, you're exaggerating. I don't get that jealous." Conner scoffed.
"Babe, you literally get upset because Wolf always wants to play with me more than he does with you."
"Okay, that's completely valid. I'm his owner or Alpha or whatever, but he only wags his tail excitedly when he sees or smells you coming."
"I've always been a dog person." Y/N shrugged.
"Yeah, well apparently, you're also gonna be the person who gets all these irritating fuckers sent to the nurse's office if they don't find somewhere else to look at."
Y/N rolled his eyes in amusement, "You're ridiculous."
"I'm your boyfriend."
"Exactly."
The Kryptonian couldn't argue with that, not that he would want to.
"I'm still not going to like this," Conner grumbled.
"Yeah, I know. And, I still love you."
"Good."
Looking on the brighter side, however, things were better with Conner attending the school. He was able to provide updates to the Team and League about what was happening, and the Kryptonian was always on high alert when Y/N was at the labs.
Plus, it was nice having the Kryptonian nearby. The fact that his boyfriend was always so close made Y/N feel safer and less stressed, and it gave the Kryptonian peace of mind knowing he was safe.
Of course, there were moments when Conner had to remind himself not to overreact, trying to control the situation, but he was getting better at it.
Ironically enough, Conner ended up becoming a little popular within the school, which should have been surprising. The Kryptonian was the picture-perfect American boy. He was athletic even if he didn't join any sports teams, most people just assumed from his muscular build. He possessed high intelligence thanks to his G-Gnome programming and was insanely attractive in the eyes of many.
Even though he wasn't exactly the most social, choosing to mostly keep to himself or stick by his boyfriend's side, many of the students and teachers slowly began to warm up to him. He was still a bit standoffish and awkward, but his protective nature towards his boyfriend was seen as endearing and adorable by his peers.
It was also envied and desired by many of their classmates. And since Conner was still convinced that certain boys in the school couldn't be trusted because of their obvious love-struck eyes for Y/N, it made him all the more surprised when he realized some of those looks were meant for himself. Much to the displeasure of his boyfriend, of course, which the Kryptonian took great pride in. It was satisfying knowing he wasn't the only jealous one in their relationship.
"You're jealous," The Kryptonian smirked at his boyfriend's irritable expression as they sat in the library studying.
"Am not," Y/N denied.
"Are too."
"And what makes you think that?" Y/N tried to show a neutral face, but Conner knew him too well and could see the visible anger twitching in his eyes.
"Well, for starters, you get this irritable look in your eye like the one you have now when someone tries to come up and talk to me. You looked about ready to blast my lab partner's head off in chemistry earlier today during our experiment. And you've been glaring at Logan for the past twenty minutes ever since he came over here and offered to study with us," Conner stated, his smirk growing bigger as he watched his boyfriend's cheeks begin to burn with embarrassment, "Now, you know how it feels."
"Okay, first of all, I got annoyed because they always came up and tried to talk to you when we were clearly in the middle of a conversation. That would irritate anyone, even a nun—"
"What do nuns have to do with this?"
"—Secondly, I was only looking at your lab partner like that because he kept popping his gum and you know the sound of the shit drives me crazy. Plus, he didn't need to position your chairs right next to each other during the experiment. And, I was not glaring at Liam, which is actually his name, by the way, I was just... observing."
"Observing?" The Kryptonian asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Yes, observing. We're in a library, would you like me to grab you a dictionary? It's when you look at something or someone closely and with attention," Y/N stated, the sarcasm dripping off his words.
"Really? Because it looked more like this," Conner said, before he scrunched his eyebrows together, making a look of intense concentration, his eyes squinting, "Then, the person you were looking at would start to panic and freak out because it looked like you were going to attack them," Y/N held an unimpressed look while actively suppressing the amusing chuckles he felt rising in his stomach.
"Careful sweetie, hold that face for too long and it might get stuck like that," Y/N said.
"Very funny," Conner replied, before his eyes took on a mischievous glint, "I like it when you're jealous, though. Makes you even cuter."
Y/N let out a scoff, "I'm not cute, and I'm not jealous. And if you want to live to see tomorrow, you'll refrain from using those words again."
"Or what?" Conner challenged, a teasing smirk on his face.
"Or, I'll show you just how 'cute' I can be," Y/N threatened.
"Is that a promise or a threat? Cause, I'm hoping for the first one."
"You've been spending way too much time with Wally."
"Maybe. But, I'm not the one who's jealous," Conner said, his smirk still firmly in place.
"Shut up," Y/N said.
"You're cute."
"I'm not."
"Are too."
"Shut up."
"Never."
"Do you want to fight? Because the energy you're giving me right now says you want to fight."
"It's okay, babe. I am also a jealous boyfriend," Conner said.
"I'm so glad you've finally acknowledged it. You know they say the first step in the journey is acceptance and admittance," Y/N said, the sarcasm and humor evident in his voice.
"Whatever. At least I don't deny it like you."
"I've already told you I'm not jealous. You're the jealous one, not me," Y/N argued.
"Whatever you say, babe."
"I'm not!"
"You're so cute when you're in denial," Conner said, reaching a hand across the table and pinching his cheek.
"I will destroy you," Y/N threatened with a fake menacing tone.
"I'd like to see you try, cutie."
Y/N couldn't help but crack a smile at his boyfriend's antics.
"I love you," Y/N said.
"Love you too, even if you are a liar."
"Fuck off."
Across the room, the couple were not aware of the eyes on them as their peers watched them bicker back and forth.
"Ugh, can't those two ever get a room?"
Things seemed to be going well, but not all good things weren't meant to last forever.
Despite their moments of levity and fun, the experiments were still taking a toll on the boy. Y/N's powers were getting harder and harder to control, and the Kryptonian was constantly worried about the boy's safety and well-being.
One lesson Y/N took very seriously from Batman was to always trust his instincts and what his gut was telling him. Those same instincts were telling him that Lex was on to them if his feelings of dread and hyper awareness anytime he and Conner were in class, out on campus, or just anywhere outside of their dorms was anything to go off.
They'd also be fools not to see how just as much as their classmates were observing them, certain members of the faculty were watching them as well. The only thing they couldn't be certain of was if these people knew they were aware of them watching them. Of course, Y/N and Conner both knew the risks of having the Kryptonian on the campus more frequently and the increased chances that Lex would recognize him, even despite the changes in his appearance they did to throw him off.
The teacher and faculty agents the League had sent in were doing their best to uncover Luthor's plot, but even having them on campus watching out for him and Conner didn't do much to ease Y/N's nerves.
Little did he know how right he was to feel on edge.
During one of their sessions while Lex was in the observation room, his assistant came to him with a tablet, "Mr. Luthor, the surveillance footage you requested."
"Thank you. Any developments?"
"Actually, yes, sir. There's a new subject who has joined the school recently," The assistant said, showing footage of their subject eating lunch with the addition in question.
"What's so special about this one?" Lex asked, his eyes narrowing as he watched the two interact.
"From initial gatherings, nothing sir," Mercy said, swiping through the different video files they had recorded of Y/N and this new student around the school since his arrival, "But, after close observation and monitoring, we found the nature of their relationship to be more intimate than expected. And, after noting his unusual practice of never leaving the subject's side for more than a second and their frequent trips off campus together, we ran a facial recognition and found this." She swiped over to an old file from their Cadmus labs in Washington.
Lex's eyebrows raised in recognition while a knowing smile grew across his lips, "Ah, so it seems Project K.R. has gone and fallen in love with our little experiment. How interesting. Expected of course, which gives me a perfect opportunity."
"What would you like us to do, sir?"
"For now, continue monitoring. Keep a close eye on them. If our resident Superboy knows about him and is here assumingly to watch and protect him, we can only assume the League is on to us," Lex instructed, a hand to his chin as he thought over their moves before his usual knowing smirk returned to his face, "Also, reach out to the family of our subject. I do believe it's time we set up a parent-teacher conference."
Mercy nodded at the instructions, before turning to leave. Lex turned back to the one-sided window, watching as the scientists and doctors performed their tests and experiments on Y/N with a knowing smile. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket, opening a message thread and pulling up a photo he received some weeks prior.
A cute and lovely photo it was too of Conner taking a selfie of him and Y/N who was seemingly caught off guard and trying to get the phone back. Lex smiled at the screen with a thoughtful gaze before making his way inside the experiment room, intending to have a little chat with his subject.
Y/N knew something was up, and the only small relief he had to his growing anxiousness was the fact that the League finally had come up with enough evidence and was now formulating a plan to end these experiments and take Luthor down, without risking his parents in the process. Only that seemed less likely when his parents suddenly showed up at the school the following week, surprising both their son and the Kryptonian who immediately became suspicious.
Apparently, Lex had decided to call a meeting with him and his parents to discuss his performance and results. And, if the uneasy dread in his stomach was correct, it definitely had nothing to do with his grades.
The agents immediately reported back to the League, and Conner was insistent that he and Y/N return to Mount Justice as soon as possible, almost certain that Lex was up to something. But, his boyfriend who just as much wanted to agree with the Kryptonian wouldn't allow it.
He was also very aware of the ominous feeling that Lex was setting up something, and that's why he had purposely invited Y/N's parents there. In the past year he'd spent with 'Uncle Lex', he'd gotten to know him pretty well, and getting to know him meant he got to see the parts of Luthor that were cold, calculating and always scheming.
Whether Lex was aware or not that Y/N could see these traits coming out at times, the young superhero noted it. And that's why he was certain he had no choice but to attend this meeting.
Lex got his parents involved for a reason, and he wasn't ready to find out what that reason was. But, Conner was not ready nor willing to let his teammate and boyfriend walk into an obvious trap. Despite his very strong feelings concerning the boy's parents and his wanting to give them a piece of his mind, Y/N's safety was his #1 priority. If his parents were in on the scheme, then any wrong move or miscalculated step could put him at risk, and that wasn't something the Kryptonian was willing to gamble on.
"No, you're not going," Conner stated, leaving no room for argument in his tone, despite knowing his boyfriend would still argue back with him.
"Yes, I am."
"Y/N, this is not up for discussion. You're not going, and that's final." Conner said, looking down straight into his boyfriend's eyes and not budging an inch. In any other scenario, he'd typically argue a little before giving in to the smaller male...not this time.
"Last time I checked, you were not my boss. And you know what will happen if I don't go. Lex will just end up coming after me and my parents," Y/N retorted.
"Fine. Then, I'm coming with you. End of discussion."
"Conner—"
"Y/N, I'm not letting you do this alone. End. Of. Discussion."
"Conner, I have to. You don't understand, he's got something planned and he's not stupid. He knows the League's onto him and this is basically his insurance policy. I can't let my parents get caught up in this," Y/N said, his decision final.
"And I can't let you get hurt," Conner yelled, grabbing Y/N by his shoulders and bringing him closer, his face showing his desperation while Y/N tried to push back the tears building in his eyes, "What if your parents are in on it and this is just you playing into all of their hands? You can't expect to believe that they have no idea what's going on and haven't noticed the condition you've been in all those times you went home."
"You don't think I haven't considered that?! I'm not stupid, Conner. But, if my parents are in on this, then that's something I'll just have to face the reality of. But, I'm their son, superpowers or not, I'm still their kid. That has to count for something," Y/N said, the tears no longer being held back as they broke free and ran down his face.
The Kryptonian softened at the sight and reached his hand up to wipe away the tears, before bringing the boy closer to him and embracing him, his arms wrapping around him as if trying to protect him from the entire world. Just like before, when they stood in the middle of his room at Mount Justice, only this time, the roles were reversed and Conner was the one comforting him.
Just like the many other teens and kids who had the blessing of being gifted with powers and abilities beyond the average human, it came with many circumstances, and sometimes those circumstances outweighed the benefits. As he'd come to learn, he wasn't the only one who had his fair share of daddy and mommy issues, didn't make it hurt any less though.
The idea that his parents couldn't accept him for who he was and would rather subject him to cruel and awful experiments, just to get rid of something they saw as an imperfection in him...stung, to say the least. It wouldn't be the first time he'd wondered about how his life would have turned out had he not had these powers, but he'd be lying if he said it hadn't crossed his mind that maybe his parents would be happier and more accepting.
That thought alone was what made him the most upset. Not the fact that they'd rather see him as a science experiment than their son, but the fact that they'd rather just erase him and get rid of him completely, even if it meant losing their son than having to face the idea of their child being different.
It was something he'd only admitted once before to Conner, and the Kryptonian could still recall the pain he felt at the admission. It was a pain so subtle, yet so raw and so deep that he could feel how much it affected his boyfriend, making his dislike turn to disdain, almost hatred towards his so-called 'parents.'
Now, in the face of everything, Y/N was slowly accepting it as his reality. The thought had been slowly settling in his mind more and more over the past year as these experiments continued. Conner was right. His parents had to have known something was up when they saw him come home the few times he did in the past few months.
If it was enough for his friends and his protectors from the Justice League to see, then they had to have noticed at some point. And the fact that he'd never seen them show any ounce of concern unless it was relating to the state of his 'undesirable traits' as stated by his mother told him everything he needed to know.
At any point, they'd probably agree with what Lex was doing, especially if they knew he was doing it to eliminate Superman and the Justice League. His parents weren't at risk. They never were.
But, the Justice League was.
His Team and friends were at risk.
Conner was at risk, and that was something he wasn't going to take any chance with no matter the cost to himself.
"My parents just texted. They're meeting with Lex in his office. I have to go," Y/N said, going to grab his things and head for the door.
"No, you don't," Conner said, pulling his boyfriend into his hold, "If you think I'm going to willingly let you walk into what's almost certainly a death sentence, then you actually are an idiot. We're going back to Mount Justice and telling the others what's going on."
"I can't, Conner. My parents are already on their way, and if I'm not there, they along with Lex are going to get suspicious. It's one thing if Lex knows about us and the League, but if my parents find out, then we're going to have an even bigger problem to deal with," Y/N argued, still trying to break free from the Kryptonian's embrace.
"And, what about when they figure out you're a superhero and are part of the team who's been working to bring them down? If you're going to that meeting, then I'm going with you, and if I have to, I'll protect them as well. It's not like I can't handle myself. Besides, you'll be there, and we're stronger together," Conner stated.
"No, absolutely not," Y/N refused.
"And why not?"
"Do you honestly think for one moment Lex hasn't prepared a thousand and one different contingency plans? Like I said before, if he invited my parents here, then he did it for a reason. And I'm willing to bet he's got plenty of different backups in case you, Superman, Batman, or anyone from the Team or League tries to intervene. I've spent the last year observing this man, Conner. He's smart, and he's always planning his next move. You should know that more than anyone!"
"Exactly, which is why I'm not going to let him hurt you."
"But, he'll hurt you if you're there! Do you not get it, Conner? If Lex sees you, he'll use you against me. Do you not understand that? If you show up to that meeting, he'll have all the leverage he needs to take everything from me. Despite my not wanting to believe it could be true, I have to accept the reality that my parents may actually be 100% totally on Lex's side, so he won't be able to use them effectively against me like he could if they weren't, which gives me an advantage. An advantage that goes straight out the window if you're there," Y/N explained, hoping the Kryptonian would listen.
"You're not invincible, Conner. Your abilities might rival Superman's, but Lex created you. Even if M'Gann removed all the programming the G-Gnomes did to you before that gave him control over you, Lex still knows how to get to you in ways I couldn't even imagine. And that scares the shit out of me. I can't lose you. I can't," Y/N cried, finally breaking down and dropping his body fully into his boyfriend's arms.
Conner's heart ached at the words, never feeling as helpless and weak as he did at that moment. It seemed no matter how much he tried to protect his boyfriend and keep him safe, all his efforts were in vain, and both of them were at risk of losing the other.
It was amazing how only a year together could bring two individuals who hadn't known each other and were seemingly doing just fine on their own before, could reach a point where they felt like they couldn't go on without the other, and just the thought of was enough to send them down a spiral of panic and misery.
Conner wrapped both his arms around Y/N's waist at that moment, holding him in what could be considered a lethally crushing embrace while digging his face into the smaller boy's neck. His boyfriend never complained though, holding on to his Kryptonian just as tight while rubbing his hands through his hair and up and down his back, his tears still falling silently down his face.
The Kryptonian couldn't hold back his own tears as he felt them drop down his face, hiding his face even further to prevent his boyfriend from seeing him cry. One of them had to be strong for the other, and Conner decided it would always be him. It was what he was made for. His grip grew tighter with every second as he fought the urge to just break through the window and run off with his boyfriend, hiding them away forever.
He wanted nothing more than to take him away from all this. To take him somewhere far away from all the danger and chaos that plagued their lives and just live. The fantasy of having a simple life with Y/N and getting married, settling down, and starting a family was the only thing he could think about now.
"I love you, Conner. You've done a great job at protecting me so far, but, just this once, let me protect you. Let me keep you safe," Y/N whispered, his voice strained and hoarse.
"I love you, Y/N. I promise we'll figure this out, and we'll have that forever we talked about before. Just wait for me," Conner said, pulling back just enough so he could look the smaller boy in the eye, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, his cheeks, and the tip of his nose, before finally landing on his lips.
"With open arms," Y/N replied, the smile on his face bittersweet, yet full of love and promise.
"With open arms," Conner repeated, the tears still running down his face, and his arms still refusing to let go of the boy.
The two embraced in a bruising kiss, one full of desperation and pain, and a silent promise. When the kiss broke, Y/N pulled the Kryptonian into his chest, his fingers running through his dark hair and rubbing small circles on his back, and Conner closed his eyes, allowing the touch to soothe him, wishing he could stay there forever.
"That was so cheesy," Y/N chuckled messily through his tears.
"You were the one who said it," Conner smiled, his eyes still closed as he buried his face into his boyfriend's chest.
"Shut up," Y/N laughed lightly, his hands still rubbing Conner's back.
"I'll let you go, but only on one condition," The Kryptonian spoke, his eyes opening and looking into the eyes of the boy in his arms.
Y/N looked at him, holding back a sad chuckle, knowing the Kryptonian wouldn't let it go easily, "What is it?"
"You have to let Batman and one of our friends go with you, just as a backup. They don't have to go with you inside the meeting, but I'll feel better knowing you have some sort of reinforcement. And the only other option if you don't agree to that is me throwing you over my shoulder and taking you back to Mount Justice."
Y/N almost opened his mouth to argue but held back his words, knowing Conner wouldn't budge and would likely follow through on his threat. He sighed, knowing the Kryptonian wouldn't let him do this alone, despite his protests.
"Okay," He relented, hoping for once that his boyfriend could not read him as easily as he did.
"Promise me," Conner said, the determination and stubbornness still present in his eyes, "You promise me, okay? Promise me, you won't go alone," He demanded.
Y/N nodded, "I promise."
"No, say it. I need to hear it," Conner ordered.
"I won't go alone, Conner. I promise."
"Good," Conner sighed, his grip on his boyfriend relaxing, "Now, who are you going to bring with you?"
"Wally, I think," Y/N answered, "He's fast and can get me out of there pretty quickly if things get out of hand."
"Fine, but just know, if anything happens, I'll come and get you myself," Conner declared.
"I know. But, I'll be okay. Everything will be fine," Y/N reassured, "I love you."
"I love you, too," Conner said before getting up, "Now, you stay here, and do not go to that meeting until I'm back with Batman and Wally. Got it?"
Y/N rolled his eyes playfully, "Yes, sir."
"Good. Remember what you promised," Conner said, before leaning forward and kissing his boyfriend again, the kiss much sweeter and calmer than the one before, but with the same amount of passion and love behind it. He pulled away, giving his boyfriend one last glance before heading out of the room.
That was the last time he saw Y/N.
Conner wasted no time in getting back to the Zeta Gateway to Mount Justice, not caring who saw him leaping across the campus and the city. When he finally made it back to the Cave, he explained the situation and demanded Batman and Wally return with him. Wally had no problem going along with it, not liking the fact that his friend was being put in danger, and not caring that the Kryptonian's protective nature was kicking in, knowing they were all a little protective of their teammate and friend.
Batman needed a few more details, but when he had the whole story, he immediately called in Superman along with the rest of the Team. Conner truly didn't care at that moment, as long as they got back before Y/N did something stupid. Despite the smaller boy's wishes, they were not granted, as the Kryptonian could clearly see his boyfriend was planning something.
When they made it back, Batman held back, opting for Robin to go in his place with him, Conner, and Wally.  The three boys, each now dressed in their Team attire made their way to Y/N's dorm, only to find it empty, their teammate nowhere in sight. Conner had to physically hold back from tearing the entire school apart.
"Where the fuck is he?!" Conner screamed, his patience and concern growing thin.
"Calm down, Supey. He probably saw we were coming and made his way to the meeting. Let's just follow the plan and get there so we can be ready to jump in when he needs us," Kid Flash said, trying to calm the Kryptonian down.
"Where's the meeting at?" Robin asked.
Conner took a few deep breaths, trying to get ahold of himself, "He told me it was in Luthor's office. Knowing him, he probably lied thinking I would've gone after him by myself. I'll bet they're meeting in the science building where they've been doing the experiments," He theorized.
"Then, what are we waiting for?" Kid Flash said before the trio made their way over, alerting Batman, Superman, and the rest of their team.
But, by the time they made it, it was too late.
On the outside, the building looked fine. But, on the inside, everything was destroyed. It almost looked like a nuclear bomb had gone off inside the building. The testing lab, where they usually performed the experiments on Y/N was in even worse shape than the rest of the building.
All the equipment and furniture was completely demolished, and the one-sided mirror Lex would watch from was shattered, with a small hole in the wall behind it, indicating the explosion came from the inside.
There were scorch marks everywhere, the smell of burnt metal and plastic filling the air as the four boys walked around the scene. The League had already contacted the police and the fire department, and the school's administration was currently being investigated and questioned by the local authorities.
They couldn't find Y/N though. They managed to find students and faculty who were in the building and trapped under rubble. They found some of the scientists hiding in various spots in the destroyed wreckage of the room like they were trying to shield themselves from the damage.
They even managed to locate Mercy Graves, who was unconscious in the rubble.
But, no signs of their missing friend and teammate.
No trace of Lex Luthor or Y/N's parents either which made the rising anger and panic Superboy was feeling reach astronomical levels.
"Where the hell is he?!" Conner shouted, his patience finally giving out and the anger and concern he'd been feeling the past hour finally bubbling over.
"Superboy, calm down," Batman said, "We'll find him."
"And how can you be so sure? We've been looking for over an hour, and there's no sign of him," Conner yelled, the worry and concern in his voice very clear.
"Superboy, relax. We'll find him, don't worry," Superman said, only to be interrupted by the groan of an awakening Mercy Graves.
"You won't find him," She said, coughing a few times and holding her head as she sat up.
Superboy made his way over to the woman, grabbing her off the ground and throwing her against one of the few remaining walls in the room.
"Superboy!" Batman shouted.
"Where is he," Superboy growled, ignoring his mentor and leader's warnings.
"I told you, you won't find him," Mercy said, smiling through her bloody and bruised lips.
Superboy, very much past his limit, wrapped his hand around the woman's throat, lifting her into the air, "Tell me where he is right now, or I promise I will choke the life out of you right now and enjoy doing it."
By the tone of his voice and the warning squeeze he gave around her throat that had the bodyguard wincing in pain, he was not bluffing.
"Superboy, stand down! We need her to talk," Superman ordered.
"Why? She clearly knows something and she's not telling us," Superboy retorted, a dark and ominous tone to his voice no one had ever heard from him before as he watched the tears build in her eyes from not being able to breathe, "Might as well make sure she never speaks another word again. Save us all the trouble."
"And how will that help you find him?" Batman asked.
"It won't. But, I'll feel a lot better," The half-Kryptonian said, turning his attention back to Mercy, who was trying her best to remove the hand from her throat.
"Superboy, release her and stand down now. That's an order," Batman said.
He seemingly was done listening to them though, his anger-filled gaze focused solely on the woman choking and gasping for breath as her throat was crushed slowly under his grip.
"Superboy, that's enough. You're going to kill her," Batman said, trying to reason with his clone.
"So, what? She's not telling us anything, and she's working for Lex. Who cares if she dies?"
"We need her alive. If she knows something, then we have other ways of getting her to talk. But, if you kill her, you may lose your only chance at finding him. Now, let her go," Superman ordered.
Everyone stood still at that moment, the sounds of debris flying and police sirens drowned out by the struggling noises coming from Lex's bodyguard as she fought to keep herself awake and alive under the deathly grip the Kryptonian had her in. His face was hard, his rage clear as day and not showing any signs of relenting.
Batman was prepared to use external measures, signaling Robin when the Kryptonian suddenly backed off. He released his grip over the woman's throat, letting her fall to the ground as she gasped and coughed for breath. Without another word, Superboy walked out of the room, not turning back as his peers and mentors stared after him in worry.
Superman had to stop him from tearing apart the entire school, as Conner was resigned to doing whatever he could to find his teammate and lover, at whatever cost. Thankfully, Batman was smart in bringing the others along as they were all able to assist in subduing him before anything else got destroyed or someone else got hurt in the process.
it wasn't easy for any of them, as they could understand the world of anger and hurt he was in. It was even harder when Batman gave them all pieces of Kryptonite to subdue him, making it easier for them to take him back to Mount Justice while they wrapped up their investigations.
They weren't able to get much out of Mercy, as she apparently wasn't present for the entire meeting and had only just returned before everything went to hell. She knew some details of Luthor's plans but not everything, but she wasn't the only one they apprehended. They detained some of the scientists who were working on the experiments themselves and brought them in for questioning.
"The experiments were designed to remove the subject's powers and abilities, as requested by his parents. Make no mistake, Mr. Luthor had no plans to deceive Mr. & Mrs. L/N. He had full intentions of honoring their wishes and returning their son to them as a normal child with no powers. However, his motives for doing so were not exactly what they may have thought. Mr. Luthor didn't just intend to remove the young boy's powers, he meant to extract them and duplicate them, hoping to copy those abilities into a new generation of Genomorph clones."
This wasn't news. They knew most of this already, but the truth spell Zatanna cast seemingly worked, as they hadn't gotten this much detail out of the assistant/bodyguard before. Conner couldn't care less though.
All he was concerned about was any information she had that could lead them to finding Y/N. It became all he cared about.
But, it seemed all Batman, Superman, and his so-called friend cared about were the experiments that were performed on him. Experiments that they allowed to go on for more than a year.
"Mr. Luthor theorized the key to extraction and duplication in the matter of the subject's abilities lay within the source of his powers. Only after several experiments were the scientists assigned to the matter able to narrow the source down to a matter of three categories. Genetic Inheritance, Biomolecular Engineering, or Magic. While the direct source was never identified, they had created many different strategies to test extraction and duplication before Mr. Luthor eventually found the correct one, which was the reason for his invitation to the subject's parents. However, one variable was unaccounted for."
"What was it?" Superman asked.
"Though it was never discovered what the source of the subject's abilities was, we did discover various effects and consequences of a potential pathogen that was destroying our serums and nullifying our experiments, which caused almost irreversible damage on the subject and potentially his power source as well. We realized the subject's body was now not only fighting against our serums and experiments, it was rejecting its own innate abilities, essentially fighting a war within itself. It was theorized that since the serums were designed to essentially tamper with the subject's powers, and the body was actively trying to expel the serums, it as a result tried to expel a part of itself as well. This caused substantial side effects, and Mr. Luthor was forced to postpone the achievement of his ultimate goal until he could be sure the subject would not die before extraction and duplication were complete."
The dilutions they were giving Y/N. The S.T.A.R. Labs scientists were right all along. And if they hadn't stopped giving Y/N the solutions when they did, they could've actually killed him from the inside.
Suddenly, everyone was grateful when Conner didn't stick around for the interrogations like he planned to, or else none of them knew how he'd react. If the way he almost crushed Mercy's throat against the wall when she wouldn't answer him was anything to go by, they'd rather not find out. Dick, Kaldur, and Wally already had a taste of it once.
They weren't keen on experiencing it again.
"What was the last thing you saw before the explosion?" Batman asked.
"Mr. Luthor had the subject restrained. He'd had him injected with the final serum, a special concoction our scientists had developed. It was supposed to neutralize the subject's powers and allow us to safely extract them. Once the extraction was complete, the subject would have been returned to his parents, and the serum would have been used to create a new generation of Genomorphs with the subject's powers that would be under Mr. Luthor's complete and total control. However, when the extraction began, something went wrong and the subject's body reacted negatively, causing his powers to go haywire, causing the explosion. I was knocked out during the blast and only woke up after your arrival. When I came to, the room was destroyed, and the subject was nowhere to be found along with Mr. Luthor and his parents. That's all I remember."
"Do you have any idea where they could've gone?"
"It is likely Mr. Luthor took himself and the subjects to safety in one of his remote locations. He is a very resourceful man and had me arrange means of emergency transportation and shelter in case anything grew out of his control. I would have been the one to escort him if I had not been caught in the blast myself. As for the subject himself, one of our scientists has summarized that he was likely vaporized from the overflux of power. The chance of his survival is almost non-existent."
A solemn mood fell over everyone at the news. Zatanna and M'Gann were distraught at the news while Artemis did her best to hide how crushed she was. Dick, Kaldur, and Wally were no better, each expressing their own forms of grief in different ways.
Batman, Superman, Flash, and the other members of the League were also plagued with remorse and guilt at the verdict. It was their fault. Especially the first three since they were the ones who brought Y/N into all of this in the first place.
And despite all the pain and anguish they were all feeling, they knew it wouldn't compare to how Conner would feel. No of them had the heart to tell him either way.
How do you tell someone the love of their life is dead?
No one had the answer, but it seemed, they didn't need it in the first place. When Conner returned to find out what Mercy and the scientists had said, all it took was one look around the room, seeing the red and wet eyes and the looks of despair on all their faces, and he just knew.
He didn't need anyone to tell him.
He didn't need the confirmation.
He didn't need anything.
Except maybe the ability to turn back time.
Because, if he could, he would've gone back and stopped Y/N from going to that meeting. He would've done what he wanted to do in the first place and just tossed the stubborn boy over his shoulder and taken him far away, somewhere safe and hidden, and never let him leave. He would've stayed with him forever, and they would've lived happily ever after.
Somehow, no one was surprised when Conner made for the vehicle hangar, clearly intending to leave.
"Where are you going?" Superman asked.
"I'm going to find him," Conner replied, his voice cold and devoid of any emotion.
"Conner, there's no point. We've searched everywhere. There's no trace of him, and Mercy said-"
"I don't give a shit what Mercy said! I'm going to find him, and I'm going to bring him home. I'm not giving up on him," Conner shouted, the tears threatening to spill from his eyes.
He was on Sphere, aka Super-Cycle, and out the door before any of them had the chance to argue.
When he didn't return for almost an entire day, they knew they had to go looking for the Kryptonian. They figured the best place to start would be Y/N's home city, the school, and certain areas around Happy Harbor.
They were right, though they didn't find him exactly where they thought.
After searching the school and their old dorm rooms, all of which showed clear signs of the Kryptonian's presence if the various holes in the wall and broken furniture were any indication. Yet, nothing of Y/N's was touched or destroyed. In fact, lots of it was neatly put together and packed away, as if someone was coming back for it. They figured Conner planned to take his stuff back to the Cave and keep it as mementos to his lost love.
It wasn't until they were flying back toward the Cave when Dick spotted him in a very familiar area. He was sitting on the ground, staring at the sky while leaning against the same tree he and the others had tied Y/N to when they thought he was a mole.
"Hey, guys, I found him," Dick said, "He's at the park."
"Alright, we'll meet you there," Batman replied over the comms.
"No, wait. Don't come here. Just...just stay where you are. I'll handle this," Robin said, his voice low and sad.
"Are you sure, Robin?" Aqualad asked.
"Yeah, I'm sure. I'll call you if I need you," Robin said before instructing M'Gann to land the Bioship a little bit away. He knew Conner would notice their arrival, but he figured it'd be easier if he just went himself.
"Hey, Supey," Robin called out, walking up to the Kryptonian.
"Go away, Dick," Conner said, his voice still cold and empty.
"I'm not going anywhere, Conner. Not until you talk to me," Robin said, sitting down next to the Kryptonian.
"I don't want to talk. I just want to be alone," Conner said.
"Well, you can be alone with a friend nearby. I'm not leaving, and neither are the others. We're worried about you, and we're not going to leave you alone. You're not the only one who's hurting, Conner. We all are. But, we're not going to get through this if we don't stick together. So, please, just talk to me. Let me help you," Robin pleaded.
"I don't need help. I need to find him," Conner said, his voice cracking a bit.
"Conner, we've looked everywhere. There's no sign of him. Even the League is looking, and they haven't found anything. There's nothing left to look for," Robin said, his voice soft and gentle.
"That's because they're not looking hard enough. I know he's out there. I can feel it. I can feel him. I can't explain it, but I know he's alive," Conner said, his voice growing firm.
"Conner, I know you want to believe that, but-"
The Boy Wonder was made silent when a folder piece of paper was shoved against his chest. When Conner didn't look back at him and just continued looking toward the sky, Dick figured he wanted him to read whatever he just gave him.
So, he did.
"Is this—"
"A fake letter someone tried to make imitating Y/N so I'd think he was dead? Yeah, it is," Conner answered, his voice still cold and devoid of emotion.
"But, how did you know?"
"I didn't. Not at first. When I got back to his dorm to see if I could find him or anything that would lead to him, I found that waiting for me on the bed. I started to read it, but I could barely get past the first three sentences without wanting to rip it to shreds. It sounded nothing like him. Nothing like the way he talked, not to mention the handwriting was too perfect," Conner explained, his voice growing softer and more emotional.
"So, someone wrote a fake letter to make you think Y/N was dead?" Dick had to admit, what Conner was saying wasn't completely off-track. He'd only known Y/N for a little over a year, but reading this letter, he agreed with the Kryptonian it sounded nothing like their teammate. But, then an image of the destroyed lab flashed in his head, and then Mercy's absolute sureness that he couldn't survive the blast...
"Ok, I see what you mean, but—"
"But, what?! What, Dick," Conner snapped, turning to his friend with a glowering look, "You think I'm crazy? You think I'm delusional? You think I'm making this up? Let me be clear since I wasn't before; if I really thought and believed Y/N was dead, I'd have gone and finished choking the life out of his useless assistant and went looking for any possible trace of Lex Luthor so I could stick my fist through his chest and God knows what if I managed to find his sorry excuse of parents."
Dick was taken aback by the Kryptonian's words, not expecting the sudden outburst.
"He's alive, Dick. And I'm going to find him," Conner stated, his tone leaving no room for argument. The only person who'd ever be able to argue against him was lost somewhere, the Kryptonian was convinced of this, and no one but Y/N would be able to convince him otherwise.
Days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months. Before anyone knew it, a year had gone by, and no sign of Y/N had turned up.
It was hard to watch for many of the members of their team. Some of them wanted to believe Conner was right and actively helped him in his search for the first few months, but when they kept running into dead end after dead end, they slowly lost hope. Choosing to deal with their feelings of loss and move on with their lives instead of chasing someone they were positive wasn't coming back.
Conner didn't share the same sentiment. In -act, he was more than angry with his so-called 'friends' when they had all but thrown in the towel.
"You're just giving up on him?!" Conner yelled, his anger and frustration clear.
"We're not giving up, Conner. We're just trying to move on," M'Gann said, her voice calm and gentle.
"Move on? Move on?! How can you even say that? You're literally just giving up on him!"
"Conner, we're not giving up. We're just accepting the circumstances and choosing to move on," Zatanna said, her voice calm and understanding.
"He's not gone! He's not dead! He's not!"
"Dude, we're not saying he's dead. If he is alive, we don't think he's coming back," Wally spoke, trying to choose his words carefully.
"What the hell is the difference?!"
"The difference is that we're accepting that he's not coming back. And we're not going to waste our lives waiting for him," Artemis said, her voice a little more firm and serious.
"Waste our lives? You're calling looking for him a waste of time?!"
"No one said that Conner," Kaldur spoke, throwing a pointed look toward the blonde archer, "We're just saying that we've been looking for him for a year, and we haven't found anything. We've looked everywhere, and we've come up with nothing. We've exhausted every option, and we're not getting anywhere. We're not saying he's dead, but we can't spend the rest of our lives looking for him either," He explained.
"No, I've been looking for him for a year. You all gave up on him after the first few months," Conner yelled at his teammates.
"Conner, we didn't give up on him. We're just trying to move on," M'Gann repeated.
"And what if it was one of you? Would you have wanted us to give up on you then? Huh?!"
"Of course not, but-"
"Then, why are you giving up on him?"
"Because, it's not the same, Conner. It's not the same," Dick said, his voice a little louder and firmer than the others.
"No, it is the same. Fine! Give up for all I care. I didn't need your help anyway," The Kryptonian said, turning his back on his friends and walking away.
"Conner, wait," M'Gann called out, but the Kryptonian ignored her, continuing his walk.
"Let him go, M'Gann. He needs some time," Kaldur said, placing a comforting hand on the Martian's shoulder.
"But, we can't just let him go. He's not thinking clearly," She argued.
"He's not thinking at all," Artemis said, her arms crossed.
"Artemis," Kaldur warned.
"What? It's true. Have none of you paid attention for the past year?! He won't even consider the possibility that Y/N is dead," She said.
"He's not ready to accept that," Zatanna spoke, her voice quiet and solemn.
"Well, he's going to have to. We can't keep doing this. We can't keep chasing after him. We have lives, and we have missions, and we can't keep putting them on hold," Artemis said.
"She's right," Wally said, earning a surprised look from his girlfriend, "I want Y/N to be alive just as much as any of us, but we can't keep doing this. We can't keep chasing him. We have other things to worry about. We have school, jobs, missions, and families. We can't keep putting them on hold."
"I agree," Kaldur said, "As much as I hate to say it, we have to move on. We have to accept the fact that he's not coming back."
Everyone else murmured their agreement, while M'Gann still looked a bit hesitant.
"What do we do about Conner? He's not going to give up."
"I say we give him another month, and if hasn't come around, then we have an intervention and force him to wake up to reality," Artemis suggested.
"That might be a bit much," Zatanna said.
"Well, what do you suggest? We can't just let him keep going on like this. He's not going to stop, and he's not going to listen to us. We have to do something," Artemis argued.
"I agree, but I don't think an intervention is the best idea," Kaldur said.
"Well, what do you suggest?"
"I think we should just give him some space. Let him cool off and come to terms with the situation on his own."
"And if he doesn't?"
"Then, we intervene."
Things didn't get better as Artemis predicted.
With it seemingly just being himself now that his friends had given up, Conner had become even more obsessed with finding Y/N. He'd slowly done another 180 and turned into a worse version of himself when he came out of the pod.
His temper was back and stronger than ever. He barely spent time around his friends, and he was making rash decisions on missions. Black Canary and Superman both tried to intervene to talk to him, even looking into getting professional psychiatric counseling to help Conner deal with his grief.
None of it worked.
Everyone knew how much he loved—how much he loves—Y/N.
They knew how much he cared about him.
They knew how much he didn't want to believe what happened just as much as they knew he wouldn't accept it.
Conner refused to believe it.
He didn't want to.
He couldn't.
He wouldn't.
He wouldn't believe it until he saw the body.
Until he held him in his arms.
Until he could feel his heartbeat or no heartbeat at all.
His teammates and mentors could intervene all they wanted, it wasn't going to change anything. Either Conner was going to find Y/N, or he was going to die trying. Simple as that.
All the Kryptonian could think about was Y/N and the idea of him being lost and alone somewhere in the world, without him or anyone else to help him. He already failed him once, he wasn't going to do it again.
Even while going through the old interrogation videos they had on file from the scientists and Mercy Graves from the day of the accident, he was thinking about Y/N and the moments they used to share.
Their sparring sessions which frequently ended with them play-wrestling and making out on the floor or against the cave walls. All their dates into Happy Harbor whenever Y/N had free time and didn't have to report back to his school immediately that night. Their movie nights where they'd cuddle and watch all of Y/N's favorite movies and shows wanted, and Conner would pretend to hate it but secretly enjoyed it.
He'd even randomly found himself watching more of the show with the talking sponge and sea creatures, which he still had a hard time understanding. He just knew his favorite episode was always the one he remembered watching with Y/N when they were cuddled on the couch after his near accident that same day.
Y/N was lying against a pillow on the arm of the sofa while Conner lay on top of him, resting between his legs. The Kryptonian's head of dark hair was laid on his chest, and his arms wrapped around the waist of his body, like a child hugging their favorite teddy bear.
He had his arms rested over Conner's shoulders, one of his hands rubbing up and down the Kryptonian's back while the other massaged his head, fingers threading through his dark hair while they watched the ‘Graveyard Shift' episode from Spongebob Squarepants.
“I still don’t get it,” Conner spoke gruffly,  “How is he a talking sponge? What gives him the ability to speak and walk?
The smaller boy chuckled at his words, feeling how the Kryptonian nuzzled his head against his chest from the vibration of his laughs.
“I don’t know. It’s a cartoon. Not everything is supposed to make sense.”
“How am I supposed to follow along if I don’t get how the world functions?” He responded, taking one of his arms from under you to gesture at the TV. You couldn’t help the sigh and eye roll that came from your lips at your boyfriend’s antics.
As Spongebob screamed frantically while running to throw the trash out, Y/N removed his hand from Conner’s head to grab his phone off the coffee table. His baby of a Kryptonian let out a disgruntled noise, raising his head to look at him with one of his signature frowns, “Oh, calm down, you big baby. I was just grabbing my phone.” He laughed.
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Conner found himself smiling at the memory, always remembering how the sound of Y/N's laugh brought him happiness, despite his occasional grumpiness from losing his head rubs.
He swore for a quick moment he could even remember the feeling of the smaller male's hands running across his head, rubbing his scalp, and playing with different sections of his hair.
It was one of the many memories he had of the two of them, and he cherished each and every one.
He'd never forget the way Y/N's eyes lit up when he talked about his favorite shows and movies, or the way his face would scrunch up in concentration when he was working on a particularly difficult math problem. He always hated math.
Conner would never forget the way his heart would race and his stomach would flutter when he'd catch the smaller boy staring at him, or the way his cheeks would flush and his lips would curl into a smile when he'd catch him. He'd never forget the way his body felt pressed against his, or the way his lips tasted, or the way his skin felt under his fingertips.
The way his name sounded rolling off his tongue, or the way his voice sounded when he was moaning his name. He'd never forget the way his touch made him feel, or the way his presence made him feel. He'd never forget the way his love made him feel.
A particular memory came to mind when Conner was attending the boarding school to watch and protect his boyfriend. It was one of the last peaceful nights he remembered having with him before Y/N found out his parents were coming to the school and their lives were turned upside down.
They were thinking of their lives at the school, wondering what their lives would be like if they didn't have to worry about Lex or his parents. It was something of a dream.
Like a little teaser into what their lives would be like when they were past this entire mess. When all was said and done, Y/N fully intended to follow through on his boyfriend's many invitations to move into the Cave and transfer to Happy Harbor. He definitely wouldn't go back to living with his parents, even if they had changed their minds and views on superheroes and the Justice League.
It was something he and the Kryptonian talked about often, even more, when they found moments of quiet on campus and even before.
The couple was currently lying in Conner's dorm room on his bed, the Kryptonian holding his smaller boyfriend against his body as he slowly regained his strength after another testing session that almost sent him into a mild seizure. Lex was only getting more determined and ruthless in these experiments, throwing all caution to the wind and instructing the scientists to use whatever they had.
Conner was more than angry and was ready to find the bald man and rip his head off his body, but he knew Y/N needed him more at that moment. One of the undercover League agents knew what was going on and supplied the Kryptonian with emergency tools that the scientists at S.T.A.R. Labs said it would be safe to use in case Y/N had any bad reactions to some of the tests.
Thankfully, Conner's roommate was gone for the night, so they didn't have to worry about him coming back. They lay on his bed in quiet, both staring out the large window of the dorm at the bright moon in the cloudless sky. Y/N's body was racked with a small shudder and/or twitch now and then, but for the most part, he was calm and he was comfortable feeling completely at peace and safe in the Kryptonian's arms.
Something was on his mind though, something the Kryptonian could tell he was waiting to ask as he felt his boyfriend's fingers tapping softly against pec, "What's on your mind, babe?"
The smaller boy felt a small smile spreading across his face, the blushing feeling in his chest at how well his boyfriend knew him, sensing when he had something that was bothering him or just weighing on his mind, "Why couldn't we just stay in your room that night forever?"
The Kryptonian couldn't help but smile at the memory, "If I remember correctly, that's exactly what I was trying to get you to agree to, but someone wanted to be stubborn."
"That someone has a name, thank you," He said, his voice muffled slightly, but the humor was still evident.
"Yeah, and they're also an idiot," Conner retorted, feeling the light smack against his chest.
"I hate you."
"No, you don't," Conner responded.
"No, I don't," Y/N confirmed.
The air was silent for a moment, as they just lay there in each other's presence, holding on to as much of the peaceful moment as they could, knowing at some point, reality would come knocking to pull them out of the safe space that was each other's presence.
"You know we can have that, right?" Conner asked.
Y/N looked up at his Kryptonian, "Have what?"
"Forever. Like you said that night in my room, we can have that. You can stay at the Cave with me, Zatanna, and M'Gann and you can share my room with me. You can transfer to Happy Harbor and we can go to school together. I'll even join the football team and let you be my cheerleader like in all those dumb movies you have me watch with you," Conner explained, his voice growing softer as he laid out their future together.
"First off, don't act like you don't enjoy those movies just as much as I do. Secondly, if anything, I'd be on the football team and you'd be my cheerleader," Y/N retorted, the Kryptonian scoffing at the mere idea of that even happening, "And, lastly, don't think I'm not on to you and you're real intentions of trying to get me to share a room with you."
Conner's mischievous smile along with his peculiar hand placement gave away the Kryptonian's thoughts at his boyfriend's words, "I have no idea what you're suggesting. But, even if I did, I'm your boyfriend, so I'd argue that I'm allowed to have those intentions."
"And that's why I'll be making sure I get my own room," Y/N smirked.
"Not if I can help it," Conner retorted, before leaning down and pressing a kiss to his boyfriend's lips.
"You're impossible," Y/N said, his voice soft and his eyes full of love.
"But, you love me," Conner replied, his voice equally as soft and his eyes full of love.
"I do," Y/N said, his voice barely above a whisper, "I love you."
"I love you too," Conner said, his voice matching his boyfriend's, leaning down to press another kiss, this one deeper against the smaller boy's lips.
"We'll have that, right? We'll have our forever?" Y/N asked when they eventually broke apart.
"Of course, we will. I promise," Conner said, his voice firm and his eyes serious.
"Good," Y/N said, his voice soft and his eyes full of hope and love.
"Good," Conner repeated, his voice soft and his eyes full of love.
"Hey, Supey, you in here?" Wally's voice called out, startling the Kryptonian from his memories.
He and Dick walked into the mission room, finding the Kryptonian standing in front of the computer, watching the interrogation videos.
"What are you doing?"
"Watching the interrogation videos," Conner answered, his voice cold and devoid of emotion.
"Again? Dude, you've watched those a million times. You're not going to find anything new," Wally said, his voice a bit exasperated.
"Maybe not, but I'm not going to stop looking," Conner said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"Dude, you can't keep torturing yourself like this. We've exhausted every option, and haven't gotten anywhere. Maybe you're right, and he's not actually dead. But, if he hasn't come back yet, maybe it's time for you to move on. You can't spend the rest of your life looking for him," Wally said, his voice a bit firmer and more serious.
"And did you ever consider that maybe he hasn't come back because he's being held captive, and hasn't managed to escape?" Conner asked, not even turning an eye to the speedster as he continued watching the videos.
"Yes, we have considered the idea. But, have you considered the possibility that he actually may just be dead?" Wally blurted.
Conner visibly tensed at the suggestion, Dick throwing a nervous look toward the speedster who looked well aware and positively anxious at his word choice. A few moments of silence passed as the next video loaded, neither of the two males knowing what to say before the Kryptonian replied.
"He's not dead."
"And how do you know that?" Dick asked softly.
"Because I just do, Dick. Alright, is that good enough for the two of you?" Conner snapped.
"No, it's not," Wally spoke, his voice a bit firmer, "You do realize it's scientifically impossible for you to have some psychic connection that tells you if Y/N is alive. You need to face reality."
"Dude, back off," Dick said, seeing how the speedster's words were starting to get to the Kryptonian.
"No, I'm not backing off. He needs to hear this. He's not going to wake up and accept the facts until someone makes him," Wally argued.
"Okay, KF. I get what you mean. But, this isn't going to help anything." Dick tried to warn his friend of the increasingly agitated Kryptonian, but it seemed Wally also was no longer listening.
"Face the facts, Conner. He's not coming back. And, if he is, which is highly unlikely, it's not going to be anytime soon. You can't keep doing this. We're all worried about you. You need help, man," Wally said.
"Wally, dude seriously, chill out," Dick said.
"What I need is for you to leave me alone," Conner growled, his hands clenched into fists.
"I'm not going to leave you alone. Not until you accept the truth. He's gone, Conner. And, he's not coming back," Wally said, his voice stern and unwavering.
"No's he not," Conner said, his voice low and his tone dangerous.
"Then, where is he?! Huh, Conner?! Where is he?!"
"KF, cut it out."
"What's going on in here?" Kaldur said, entering the mission room along with the girls.
"Nothing," Conner growled, his eyes turning back to the screen.
"It doesn't sound like nothing," Artemis said, her arms crossed.
"Well, it is. So, leave me alone," Conner said, his voice a bit louder and his tone a bit harsher.
"Conner, are you alright?" M'Gann asked, her voice soft and concerned.
"I'm fine," He growled.
"Are you sure? Because you're not acting like it," Artemis said, her voice a little more firm.
"Artemis," Kaldur warned.
"No, she's right. He's not," Wally said, "He's been watching the interrogation videos again."
"Dude," Dick turned to his friend with a warning tone knowing where this would lead if it wasn't put to a stop.
"What? It's true. He's not accepting the fact that Y/N is dead," Wally said, his voice a bit louder.
"Seriously, knock it off," Dick said, his voice a bit more firm.
"No, I'm not going to stop. In fact, I told you we should've deleted these videos a long time ago. He's been obsessing over them," Wally said, his voice rising.
That got Conner's attention again, and everyone could see it by the furious twitch in his brow.
"Wally, knock it off," Dick said, his voice a bit louder.
"No, dude! He's not listening to us. He's not listening to the League. He's not listening to anyone. He's not listening to the facts. He's not even listening to his own heart, He's not accepting the fact that Y/N is gone," Wally yelled, his voice getting louder and louder.
"Wally, drop it!" Kaldur shouted.
"He's not coming back, Conner. He's not coming back. He's not-"
"Shut up," Conner growled.
"He's not coming back. He's dead, Conner! Are you listening to me right now? Y/N is dead!"
"I said shut up!" Conner roared, his fist flying and hitting the speedster square in the jaw, sending him flying across the room until he landed on the floor by the wall with a sickening thud.
"Conner!"
"Wally!"
Artemis, M'Gann, and Zatanna ran over to Wally to check on him while Kal and Dick shoved Conner away from the computer.
"Dude, what the hell," Dick yelled, his voice a mix of anger and shock.
"He deserved it," Conner growled, his fists clenched and his body shaking.
"You didn't have to hit him," Kaldur said, his voice a mixture of concern and frustration.
"Yes, I did. He wouldn't shut up," Conner said, his voice cold and his eyes full of rage.
Neither would admit it, but both males were very unsettled by the dark and dead look that seemed to be cast over their friend as he stared back at them blankly. If they both unconsciously stepped back to ensure they weren't within swinging distance, it wasn't anyone's business but their own.
"Conner, you can't just go around hitting people because they're saying things you don't want to hear," Kaldur said, his voice a combination of authority and worry.
"Yes, I can. Especially when they're saying things that are wrong," Conner said, his voice still calm and his eyes still cold.
"He's not wrong, Conner. We've all accepted the fact that Y/N is gone. And, it's time you do the same," Kaldur said, his voice a bit sterner.
"I'm not accepting anything," Conner said, his voice a bit louder.
"Conner, you have to. You can't keep living like this," Kaldur said, his voice growing softer and his eyes pleading.
"Apparently, Kal, you've got the same listening issue as Dick and everyone else around here. I'd say it in Atlantean for you, but I don't speak fish so I guess you're just going to have to deal with English. I'm not accepting anything. I'm not giving up. I'm not going to stop looking for him. I'm not going to stop believing. I'm not going to stop hoping. And, I'm not going to stop loving him," Conner said, his voice a lot louder and his eyes a lot colder.
A small groan was heard from the other side of the room, as Artemis and M'Gann managed to prop Wally over their shoulders, getting him back on his feet slowly.
"Hopefully, this teaches you to keep your mouth shut in the future," Conner said before walking off, his teammates watching his retreating back in silence.
"Dude, what the hell," Wally groaned, his head throbbing.
"You deserved it," Artemis said, her voice a bit harsh.
"What the hell did I do?"
"You're an idiot," She retorted.
"You're not wrong," Dick agreed, "You shouldn't have pushed him like that."
"I was just trying to get him to listen," Wally defended.
"Yeah, and you did a great job of that," Artemis said sarcastically.
"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't think he'd hit me. I didn't think he'd react like that," Wally said.
"Clearly, you didn't think at all," Artemis said, her voice a bit softer.
"I'm sorry, okay. I didn't mean for any of this to happen," Wally said, his voice a mix of guilt and regret.
"We know, Wally. We're not mad at you. Well, except him," Dick said.
"We all want to see Conner move on and get better, Wally. But, there's a difference between helping him see the truth and berating him," Kaldur explained.
The speedster just nodded, before feeling Artemis and M'Gann nudge him away, "Come on, idiot. Let's get you to the Medbay so we can clean that lip. Man, you finally get knocked between your teeth, and I can't even say it wasn't from me or that it was justified. Way to ruin my day, dipshit."
"Aren't you just the loveliest," Wally replied sarcastically.
Dick, Kaldur, and Zatanna watched them walk off before turning toward each other.
"What are we going to do?"
"I don't know, Z. I really don't know," Dick answered.
"This is getting out of hand," Kaldur said, his voice a mix of worry and frustration, running a hand down his face.
"Maybe, we should try talking to him again," Zatanna suggested.
"If he reacts the same way he just reacted with Wally, I'd rather avoid it. I was fine with him taking his anger and frustration out on the bad guys, but him doing it to us is a different story," Dick said.
"I agree. We need to find a way to get through to him, and soon before his violent outburst gets worse," Kaldur stated.
"So, no more giving him space then?" Zatanna asked.
"Maybe not necessarily, we don't want to provoke him into open confrontation like Wally just did, but clearly, leaving him alone is only making the problem get worse because he's not acknowledging or dealing with his grief," Kaldur said.
"Agreed. The last thing we need is him going rogue," Dick said.
"Do you think he'd actually do that?" Zatanna asked, her voice a bit worried.
"I don't want to think that, but you've seen the way he's been looking and walking around lately and the one person who could actually get him to listen without being threatened by violence is more than likely buried somewhere. It's almost like being around a ticking time bomb, or worse, walking around someone who's possessed. Kal, tell me you weren't the least bit unsettled with the way he was just looking at us. Like there was nothing behind his eyes besides anger and death," Dick asked his Atlantean friend.
"I was," Kaldur answered, his voice a bit solemn.
"Me too," Zatanna said, her voice a bit quiet.
"Okay, so we're all in agreement. We need to figure out something, and we need to do it soon. Otherwise, the next person who pisses him off might not be so lucky," Dick said.
"Agreed." The two others said.
"Recording in progress. Project: E&D. Log #77..."
The three teens whipped around to the computer, seeing it play a recording none of them ever heard before. They each looked at each other weirdly while listening to the recording, each feeling a little bit unnerved.
"We still haven't found any concrete findings on the source of the subject's abilities, but we have made other fascinating discoveries. According to the parents of the subject, the abilities he displays now all came at different age points in his previous years. First was the enhanced durability, an ability shared by many notable metas and heroes. This power came about in his early childhood, not enough to raise alarms, but enough to have the parents rightfully suspicious."
A sick, ghostly feeling overcame the three teenagers as they realized what they were all listening to.
"Oh. My. God. This is about Y/N!" Zatanna stated.
"And, it's from the experiments Lex was performing on him. This must be from one of the scientists who were working on the project as well." Dick theorized.
"But, I thought Batman, Superman, and the League collected every piece of evidence and recording they could find from that place. We would know since Conner had us listen and watch every single piece of evidence we had in hopes of finding a clue to where he might be. I've never heard this one before," Kaldur pointed out.
The two other team members each shrugged at the Atlantean before they all went back to listening.
"Then, came the power of flight and energy manipulation in his teenage years, which led us to rule out Kryptonian biology after the inhuman speed he developed in his pre-teen years. Since energy manipulation has never been a known or recorded Kryptonian ability, it brought us back to the main three categories we had for the potential answer to the subject's source. But, this discovery along with the new data that's coming in from the tests we've been doing with the serums on his body, has led us to the conclusion that whatever gives the subject these different abilities is active and growing. If these were powers he developed in his early stages of life, it definitely leaves us to question if he will manifest other ones in the future as he ages and develops more."
"Wait, did that guy just say there's a possibility Y/N could grow to develop other powers in the future?"
"He sure did."
"Okay, but, what does any of that have to do with the explosion the day Y/N disappeared?"
"I don't know. But, I have a feeling we're about to find out," Kaldur said, his voice a bit grim.
"The most exciting part is we may have stumbled upon a new power completely by trial and error. After we discovered the unknown pathogen tampering with our serums, we had to reduce the potency and level of our experiments to eliminate any potential risk to the subject's health. But, we found that during one of the experiment sessions post-reduction, when the patient seemed to be under a lot of stress, especially after his conversation with Mr. Luthor, a slight startle from that dunderhead Martin seemingly caused the subject to teleport himself from one end of the room to the other, in theory away from the thing that startled him, i.e. the danger or stressor."
All of their eyes went wide.
"The subject now seems to have unlocked the power of teleportation!"
"Holy shit! Y/N can teleport?!"
"It would appear so, yes."
"With this new ability, the subject could virtually teleport themselves out of situations that pose any danger or stress to them. Imagine the possibilities. If the subject can learn to control and harness this power, it could be the key to the ultimate weapon against the Justice League and their allies. A secret agent, able to sneak into the most secure facilities and locations undetected and unseen. And, if they can't handle the mission, they can simply teleport themselves out of the situation. This is a breakthrough. Unfortunately, since this is an ability the subject unlocked while in a drug-induced state and was not aware of it post-test, Mr. Luthor has instructed no one to inform him of this development, nor does he want any testing of this ability until further notice. Since his discovery of the relationship between the subject and the still liberated Project: K.R., he's been very cagey about things but urging us to speed up our work, as if he's preparing for something. These brainwashed fools may listen to his every word, but I intend to get every piece of data I can from these experiments. Oh- someone's coming. I must end this log early. Grant out."
"Y/N can teleport," Zatanna said, her voice a bit soft.
Dick had a look of realization come over him, "That's why no one could find him. He wasn't vaporized or abducted. He teleported himself away," He said, his voice a mix of relief and realization.
"But, where did he go? And, why hasn't he come back yet?"
"I don't know, Z. But, the fact that we're even asking that question means—"
"Conner was right. Y/N is alive."
The two dark-haired teens turned to their Atlantean leader, who held a relieved but stern gaze over his face as he stared at the recording sitting open on the computer.
"Call Batman and Superman now."
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Conner was walking along the beach with Wolf. He needed to get out of the Cave for a little bit, feeling a little bit guilty for how he reacted with Wally. It wasn't completely his fault though!
Wally shouldn't have been pushing his buttons so much. He was basically asking for it.
Either way, the Kryptonian knew he was going to have to apologize at some point. He knew his behavior was getting out of control, and he was aware of how his friends and teammates were starting to feel uneasy around him.
But, he couldn't help it.
All he could think about was Y/N and how much he loved him. How much he missed him back and how much he wanted him back.
He'd give anything to have him back, and he'd do anything to make that happen.
But, maybe his friends were right. Maybe he was chasing a lost dream and it was time for him to move on. Maybe it was time for him to accept the truth.
Conner looked down at the sand, the canine whining at his side as he could sense his human's sad distress, smelling the sad emotions all over him. He blinked repeatedly, trying to hold back the tears pooling in his eyes, but they just kept coming before they were eventually dripping and falling into the sand on the beach.
"I'm sorry, boy. I'm trying. I'm really trying," Conner said, his voice a bit broken.
Wolf barked softly, nudging his head into his human's leg with another whine.
"I know, buddy. I miss him too," Conner said, his voice a bit softer, running his hand across the canine's fur, though he seemed to be poking his snout up at a scent he caught on the wind, his tail wagging back and forth excitedly.
The silence over the beach was so loud, but not louder than the Kryptonian's soft sniffles as he stared out over the water, pulling the folded-up photo out of his pocket. Despite his overwhelming mournful attitude, he couldn't help the small smile that crossed his lips as he stared at the photo of himself, Y/N, and their friends at the beach. The same day he told Y/N he was a clone.
The same day he confessed his feelings for him.
Tears were falling onto the photo.
"I'm sorry," Conner whispered, his voice a bit broken.
"You know, you really need to stop apologizing so much."
Conner's head shot up.
There was no way. It wasn't possible.
Wolf suddenly shot away from his side, barking happily before the sound of him tackling someone to the ground hit the Kryptonian's eardrums.
There was no fucking way. It couldn't be possible.
He turned around slowly, to see the canine licking the face of the person he was currently lying on top of.
"Okay! Wolf, Sweet Jesus, okay! I missed you too, buddy," Y/N or at least someone that had Y/N's body laughed, his voice a bit muffled from his arms trying to cover his face as the canine tried to lick him.
Conner inched a bit closer, scared out of his mind to take too big of a step and risk the sight in front of him disappearing like an illusion. It'd be really ironic and bittersweet if he was to be actually losing his mind at this moment.
"Y/N?" Conner muttered softly under his breath.
When the smaller figure finally managed to get the excited canine off of him, he uncovered his face looking up at the Kryptonian before smiling that same infectious smile that had Conner's heart spiking and his eyes watering even more than they were before, mirroring the same watery eyes staring back at him.
Y/N slowly stood up, looking at his Conner with red eyes, doing his best to hold in his own tears, "Did ya miss me?"
"Is it really you?" The taller boy asked, still 100% not trusting that he wasn't losing his mind and this wasn't a product of his overly emotional state. This is why it was so much easier to keep shit bottled in.
Y/N didn't say anything for a moment, just staring at him leading Conner to think he really was hallucinating or sleep-walking until he opened his arms toward the Kryptonian, "Open arms?"
Realization hit him and before he even knew what he was doing, the Kryptonian felt his feet moving on their own and his arms were wrapped tightly around his boyfriend, holding him close and tight, almost afraid to let him go.
"Don't you ever leave me again," Conner whispered, his voice a bit broken.
"I won't. I promise," Y/N replied, his voice very broken.
But for the first time in a long time, the young hero finally felt comfortable. He finally felt like he could let his guard down after so long, feeling safe in the arms of his lover.
"I love you, Conner."
"I love you too, Y/N."
They sat just like that for a while, holding each other and finally basking in each other's presence again, "So does forever start now?" Y/N asked through a small sob.
Conner smiled through his own tears, comforting his boyfriend like he used to.
"Yeah, it starts now."
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☀️ | Conner Kent/Superboy | ☀️
☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️
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Text
That post about Magnus being at Klokikon got me wondering what else was there
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the aforementioned Magnus sighting (that def looks like his real model and not just supposed to be a cosplayer), we also got Thunderhorse (the tribute band, looks like they might've gotten back together, though they're still missing a skwisgaar) they show up throughout Klokikon as background characters. The person/kid who throws a drink at Nathan in Tributeklok also shows up a couple of times.
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i don't remember their names, the baberklok quintet or something?
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Diefordethklok.com booth
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giant gibson guitar thing
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back to maggie real quick, this is the only time they use this model throughout the entire shot of like, the crowd or whatever, and I dunno if they were just using random characters for the background or what, but everyone else here (if it's a reused character) is like a fan of Dethklok, like a background fan or whatever, so WHY did they use Magnus's model? it's not like they couldn't draw new background characters, because they did. There's furries and cosplayers and stuff, and they never get used again so like????
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But perhaps even more confusing than Magnus being here, there seems to be a young pickles checking out these furries.
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Also the old wiki page for 216 says he was assumed to have died at Klokikon, but thats wrong because he's in the doomstar requiem
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Right now I know the wiki is under a lot of construction, and there's no page for him atm. but in case anyone saw that (like me) and totally blocked this out of ur memory, there you go.
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I have to ask the question of:
Cuddle headcanons you can pick the links.
Cuddling with Time,Hyrule and Legend
Hyrule
He is the worst cuddler you'll ever meet in your life
This man doesn't know how to cuddle
PLZ SEND HELP
He's never had much positive physical interactions and he's socially stunted due to his isolating environment
When the closest thing you've had to cuddling were cult members holding you down trying to sacrifice you for their leader, you tend to not be all that great with touching in general.
This guy is awkward as awkward gets with just hand holding let alone cuddling
He'll be stiff as a board just kinda laying there letting you do your thing when you first try to cuddle him
He doesn't know what to do with his hands so he keeps them at the side but he'll occasionally bring them up to give you a few pats.
.......
It's completely awkward and silent
It feels like your hugging a manikin more than cuddling with a person
He's just looking straight up while you're laying on top of him & he's just trying he's hardest to learn to relax into it but he's just not.
He just isn't, I am sorry
He'll start overthinking the whole time he's trying to figure out how to do it
He might be sweating a bit 
Oh hylia, is he sweating?
Is he supposed to sweat? 
Is that normal during cuddles? 
But it's only been 1 minute 30 seconds in, oh shit does he smell now? I mean he always kinda smells but he doesn't want to be THAT smelly, wait what if you're just putting up with his bad BO this whole time and you're suffocating now
Wait no he took a bath in the creek two hours ago or was it two weeks ago?? Oh hylia suddenly he can't remember??
Wait, is he suffocating you? What if you're already passed out? Why aren't you moving? Why aren't you making any noise?? Hold on, is it supposed to be this awkward? Is it supposed to be this quiet??? Can people die from bad  BO?Maybe he should just end thi-
And then he feels you shift in your position and suddenly you're both on your sides as you guide his arms around your shoulders then moved yours to wrap around his abdomen 
Oh
Oh this is different
And suddenly he relaxes a bit and leans in with his chin resting on the top of your head
This isn't so bad
As he breathes in inhaling your scent he allows his arms to wrap around you gently
“I'm not suffocating you right?” He asks
“no, you're not” you tell him as you lean in closer to him snuggling into his arms
“You smell nice by the way” you whisper to him
His body goes laxed into your embrace as a small smile creeps up on his face
It'll take him a while to get use to this but if you're patient enough he'll get there
......
...........
Eventually 
Legend
No 
Absolutely not
He doesn't do cuddles
He doesn't do hugs or any touchy feely stuff with anyone really 
Don't even think about touching him if he doesn't know you or you aren't close and even then that's still a shot in the dark to even think he'll open up to the idea of cuddles 
He used to be a lot more open about physical affection in the past before life beat him into being a prickly jerk, but now? You'll have to catch him dead before he's shown being sugary sweet to anyone in a 100yrd radius
You would have to be someone who's REALLY special to legend or a very young child since he has a soft spot for kids but even then that's still a maybe 
It's not that he doesn't want to be affectionate it's just he has his own way of showing he cares without getting mushy & that usually involves sarcastic comments or witty banter
A lot of nudges with his elbow, an arm over your neck & shoulders,some pats on the back or maybe a slight playful punch is what you're really all going to get out of Legend 
He's built up a big hardened shell around him & physical intimacy just kinda breaks it all down leaving him exposed 
He doesn't like feeling vulnerable and exposed 
So he avoids it like the plague
He sees his vulnerability as a weakness and is disgusted by it to the core so he stuffs it away where no one can find it
But he's a complete tsundere & secretly wants it but at the same time doesn't want to get it
So if you want to cuddle with him you'll have to be someone he feels he can trust with everything that he is
You're going to have to slowly build you're way up before you start cuddling with him 
You start off with hand brushes, light shoulder pats, a hand on his forearm when your leading him somewhere
Move your hands down to holding his fingers,not exactly holding his hand but the touch is enough get him use to your hold before moving to hold his palms then the next thing you know you're holding hands with legend without much protest
You'll have to keep up that steady rhythm before you get to the cuddling stage
All while this is happening he lets you do it & he doesn't realize just how touch starved he is for more
He's a bit stiff and awkward once you do cuddle for the first time, he's not as bad as Hyrule but it's been a LOOOONG time since he's been this intimate with anyone in years.
He'll be tense at first but after a few minutes he leans into it as you both hold each other close while cuddling
His face might blush a bit at how close you're being but he's absolutely smiling softly like an idiot during the whole ordeal
Don't make fun or tease him about it if this is your first because he WILL get up & leave
Don't test him
I am serious
It feels soft & warm while your holding him
His head is resting on your chest listening to your heartbeat as you play with his hair
His eyes lull a bit and he feels at peace, like he's relaxing a muscle he's been tensing this entire time.
“I'll kill you if you tell anyone about this” he says but his soft tone of speaking betrays his attempt at sounding threatening
All you do is give a slight hum of agreement to him not paying any mind as you continue to stroke his hair by the fire at the cabin inn.
Time
It's uncomfortably comfortable when your cuddling with Time with his armor
Despite the cold metallic pokes against your skin as you’re resting against his chest this wasn't all that bad
Time a pretty reserved person when it comes to physical affection which only gets shown to people he sees as family or mange to warm their way into his heart
You’d have to be someone really high on his list of love ones to get accesses to cuddle privileges from
He usually tends to keep his arms to himself with only a small burst of physical affection occasionally when the moment called for it and even then it's limited to a select few
He’s not as rigid or stiff as you’d expect him to be due to his stoic demeanor while cuddling
In fact he's actually surprisingly good at this whole cuddling business then maybe even you
He grew up in a forest full of children and Malon where hugging and cuddling was very the norm
Despite his dark past and somewhat limited experience with affection he’s still always been someone who’s had a knack for being comforting when the moment is needed
When he takes his armor off the cuddling experience gose from a 6/10 to a 100/10
But you only get Time without his armor cuddles at night,early mornings or when your resting in a town
If you want cuddles suddenly throughout the day you’re going to have to deal with cold edgy metal against your face, Hylia forbid the summer sun hits and the metal is burning against your skin
If anyone at all tries to make any snide remarks about your cuddling he’s shutting it down in half a second
It will be a cold day in hell before he allows someone to embarrass you or him out of your special time together
He can be a bit goofy while cuddling,it's the only few times he’s got his guard down and just relaxes
He’ll poke and tickle your sides to make you laugh, this sometimes devolves from cuddling into a semi wrestling tickle fight
If your someone he’s got a bit of a romantic interest in, he’ll sometimes lightly blow a breath behind your ear and tease you a bit to get you flustered but won't go too far if he’s making you uncomfortable
After all he’s a menace not a creep
He’ll rub small circles on your lower and upper back while your resting your head against his chest 
You'll feel his strong fingers press into the knots and a few satisfying pops can be heard
He does this throughout your spine & you feel your muscles ease against his touches
It doesn't matter how long the cuddle session is or how in shape you are, as soon as it's over your back always feels 10x better than it did before you came
You swear he’s using magic but it's just a few tricks he’s learned in his travels to help with his own back issues
His favorite positions are any where he has you under him or against his chest
He likes the feeling of being able to survey you as it feeds into his protective habits
If you fall asleep while cuddling that's all the better because it shows you trust him enough to watch over you and you feel comfortable enough to feel at ease in his embrace
Unfortunately cuddling with time is far and few, he’s a busy guy having to take care of a group of rowdy adventurers so any intimate one on one time has to wait in the back burner until the right moment arrives
So any cuddle time you get is spent in 20 minutes to an hour,maybe half a day if a miracle like that somehow happens 
Treasure the seconds you have with him because once it's over you're not going to know if you'll get it back again in 40 minutes or 40 days later
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worth-the-chaos · 4 months
Text
Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 14
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Chapter Summary: Nancy and Robin take a shot in the dark and Steve tries to protect you from the supernatural. When the darkness comes to get you, will his love be enough to protect you?
Content Warning: Upside Down scary stuff, swearing
Word Count: 6.0k
Author’s Note: Sorry this chapter took longer; I’m involved in a lot at college and I’m in some executive positions in the organizations I’m a part of and somehow everything is going wrong at the same time (yay!) so I’ve been putting out a lot of fires (like a girl boss of course). I hope you all enjoy this chapter!
Message me to be added to the taglist and get updated when the next chapter is posted!
Series Masterlist | Part 13 | Next Part
***
“Do you guys understand any of this?” Steve asked Lucas and Dustin as the three of them sat in the Wheelers’ basement. He was staring at the words on the article Nancy and Robin had found and none of it was making any sense to him. He was scared. Not knowing what was going to happen to you and when was tearing him apart and he needed to understand so that he could find some way to fix it. To protect you.
To save you.
A chill ran down his spine as he thought about it. He thought back to the way you had stood there, locked inside your own body and twitching slightly as you were trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t wake you from. He thought back to your activities afterwards. How you felt when he had shown you just how much he loved you. The way your body moved against his. He thought about how you were all he ever wanted—no, needed—and he couldn’t bear the thought of living a life without you in it.
“It’s pretty straightforward,” Dustin stared at him judgmentally.
“Oh, ‘straightforward’? Really?” Steve asked, not adoring the condescension in the freshman’s tone.
“So far, everyone Vecna has cursed has died, except for this old Victor Creel dude that Nancy found. He’s the only known survivor. If anyone knows how to beat this curse, it’s him,” Dustin explained. Steve could see a glint of optimism in the young boy’s eyes and he desperately wished he felt the same way. This situation just felt so hopeless though. How the fuck were they supposed to combat an otherworldly threat when the attacks were occurring cross-dimensionally?
“That’s assuming he was even cursed, Henderson, which we just don’t know,” Steve spat back, frustrated with the lack of answers. “How could Vecna have existed in the 50s? It just doesn’t make sense.”
Steve dragged a hand down his face in an attempt to keep his frustration at bay. He snapped his head up when he heard your voice lilt down the stairs, getting closer as you descended them.
“As far as we know, Eleven didn’t create the Upside Down; she just opened a gate to it,” you specified as you joined the group. Steve was quick to throw an arm around your waist, pulling you into him. Now that you knew that your time may be limited, Steve was extremely touchy. It was as if he thought that holding onto you would prevent another vision. You knew better, but still leaned into him, soaking up the comfort of his affection. You flushed as you remembered your activities from last night, desperately wishing that you had more time so that you could have more nights wrapped up in each other’s presence.
“Yeah, the Upside Down has probably existed for thousands of years…millions even. I wouldn’t be surprised if it predated the dinosaurs,” Dustin hypothesized, and you glanced over to see Lucas roll his eyes a bit. You couldn’t help but chuckle. Even at the end of the world, those kids could still make you laugh.
“Dinosaurs? What are we even talking about? Come on Dustin, you can’t just—“ Steve started but Lucas cut him off to refocus the conversation.
“Okay, but if there wasn’t a gate in the 50s, how did Vecna get through? How is he getting through now?”
“And why now?” You added.
“And why then? What he just pops out in the 50s, kills one family and he’s like, ‘I’m good’ just to come back thirty years later to kill some random teens? No offense,” Steve quickly added the last part turning to you as you glared up at him. You rolled your eyes and pulled away from him a bit before reaching into your back pocket.
“I almost forgot,” you said, fishing three sealed envelopes out of your back pocket. “These are for you guys.”
You handed them the envelopes. Steve furrowed his brows as he looked at you confused, studying the sealed letter in his hand. Dustin began to open it but you stopped him quickly. “No! What are you doing? That’s not for now. Don’t open it now!”
“Okay,” Dustin replied confused, stopping his previous movements. “I’m sorry, but what is this?” He held up the envelope and waved it slightly to emphasize his question.
“It’s…it’s a fail-safe,” you answered, your voice small. You caught Steve’s expression fall as you said it and you felt your heart ache in your chest as you thought about how you wouldn’t be able to be there for him to help him grieve. You felt a pang of guilt as you realized you would be the one causing his pain. “For after…you know, if things don’t work out.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, y/n?” Steve took a step towards you and grabbed your hand.
“Steve,” you looked him in the eyes, a pained expression across your face. Before he could continue arguing with you, Nancy, Robin, and Max bounded down the stairs. You all turned your attention towards the girls as Nancy opened her mouth to speak.
“Okay…we have a plan,” she smiled at all of you and suddenly you felt a feeling in your chest that you hadn’t felt in a while:
Hope.
You all quickly moved to sit on the various couches in the basement, Steve sitting next to you with a hand on your thigh as you listened to Nancy’s game plan.
“Than’s to Nancy’s newspaper minions, we are now rockstar psychology students at the University of Notre Dame,” Robin started, handing you and Steve each a folder containing the fraudulent academic files for one Ruth and Rose.
“Nice GPA,” you smirked, looking at Nancy and she smiled back at you. It felt nice to be optimistic for once.
“So we called Pennhurst Asylum, told them we’d like to speak with Creel for a thesis we’re co-writing on paranoid schizophrenics—“ Nancy continued, but Max cut her off, having been there for the whole conversation.
“To which they said no,” the redhead explained.
“But, we landed a three o’clock with the director. Now all we have to do is charm him and convince him to let us talk to Victor,” Robin added on.
“Yeah, we’ve been doing our Victor Creel homework,” Steve started, holding up the article printout, “We’ve got a lot of questions.”
“A lot,” Lucas emphasized.
“So do we. Hopefully Victor has the answers,” Nancy answered.
“Wait a second,” you spoke up, staring down at the file folder in your hand. “Where’s mine?”
“What?” Nancy’s face scrunched up, clearly confused by your question.
“I said, where’s mine?” You repeated yourself, holding up the file folder, your jaw beginning to set as you realized you weren’t being included.
“You’re not going,” Nancy replied, reaching over to grab the file from you.
“I think the fuck I am!” You stood up quickly, pulling the folder out of her reach. Steve quickly grabbed you by your belt loop, rolling his eyes and tugging you back down to sit next to him. You sat in a huff and he quickly pulled the folder away from you. “Hey!”
“Y/n, you’re not going. End of discussion,” he said plainly, handing the folder back to Nancy.
“I can’t do anything here Nancy! Maybe I could help with this asylum director guy….or-or-or I could ask Victor the right questions; I know what it’s like after all,” you defended yourself, but you could tell by the looks you were getting that no one was going to change their mind. Nancy opened her mouth to speak, but Robin spoke up before she could get a word out.
“Look, y/n. It’s too dangerous. Just let us do the heavy lifting, and you stay here where it’s safe.”
“Nowhere is safe, Robin. It doesn’t make a damn difference where the fuck I am,” you spat. Robin’s heart sank at your words because they were true; it didn’t really matter where you were. Vecna would find you regardless.
“Y/n, if you won’t do it for yourself, would you do it for me?” Steve spoke up. The expression on his face made you break, letting out an angry puff of air before you responded.
“Whatever,” you grumbled, quickly standing up and going upstairs. Your eyes were welling with tears and you didn’t want everyone to see you in your vulnerable state, even if it was completely understandable. Steve started to stand to go after you, but Dustin stopped him.
“Just, let me try and handle this,” the boy spoke up. Steve wasn’t sure why he was letting him, but shrugged. He knew how much you cared about the kids, especially Henderson, so it was worth a shot at least.
“Y/n?” Dustin asked after he had ascended the staircase. He caught sight of you wiping tears from your eyes before you were able to turn away and hide it.
“What do you want Dustin?” You asked, your voice sounding watery as you continued to cry, a small sob escaping your body.
“We’re doing everything we can,” he started, “and I know it doesn’t feel like enough, but it’s the best we can do. And I know you want to be in on all of the action, but I think it’s okay for you to take the backseat on this one.”
“I can’t just sit around here doing nothing,” you cried out, still trying to gain your composure as you turned around, wiping at the tears falling down your face. “I mean, I just…I just want to be out there so-so I can fix it. I don’t want any of you guys getting hurt,” you added, trying to swallow the lump in your throat as you looked at Dustin.
“Then stay here and protect us. Okay? You’ve always done a kick-ass job at it, so be here for us now. The most important thing is that when all is said and done, you’re still here. So let Nancy and Robin sort it out because I know they will. We all will,” Dustin reassured you. You walked over to the boy and pulled him into a tight hug. You still felt guilty about the way he had to grow up so fast, fighting unimaginable horrors while trying to figure out who he was and where he fit in. You couldn’t even imagine what that would have been like at his age.
With the pang in your chest, you felt pain return to your head, groaning as you let go of Dustin and put a hand to your temples. You felt something warm trickle from your nose, reaching up to wipe at it, fresh blood smearing across the back of your hand.
“Y/n, are-are you okay?” Dustin stared up at you, wide-eyed and frantic. You took a deep breath and the pain subsided a little, as you nodded at the boy.
“I’m still here, aren’t I?” You replied, giving him a weak smile in an attempt to hide the many ways you were not in fact okay.
You tried to take your own words to heart as the two of you made your way back down to the basement.
I’m still here.
***
Nancy and Robin had gone off to go try and talk to Victor Creel, leaving you, Steve, Lucas, Dustin, and Max to twiddle your thumbs in the Wheelers’ basement while you waited for answers that likely weren’t coming. You were sat next to Steve and he was running his warm hand in circles across your back as you sat there, head in your hands and foot anxiously tapping.
You were restless. You couldn’t sit here doing nothing; you had loose ends to tie up in case Nancy and Robin’s investigation didn’t turn up roses. You needed to make sure you were ready to leave this world behind, and presently you weren’t.
Suddenly you stood up, causing Steve to jump as he had zoned out, his thoughts drifting elsewhere before your sudden movement had brought him back to the present. You marched across the room and picked up Dustin’s walkie.
“If we go to East Hawkins, will this still reach Pennhurst?” You asked, inspecting the gadget in your hand.
“Of course, yeah,” Dustin replied.
“Woah, why are we talking about East Hawkins?” Steve stood up, taking a slow step towards you. He looked concerned and confused; a brutal combination. You gave him a look that immediately had his anxiety skyrocketing. “No…no! Absolutely not!”
You paused, you and Steve staring each other down as if you were about to have a shootout in an old western movie. Much like reaching for the draw, you slowly reached into your pocked, grabbing the contents before lifting your hand up and dangling Steve’s car keys in between you. His mouth gaped open, his mind not quick enough to process what was happening before you grabbed your backpack off a folding chair and bolted up the stairs.
Steve stood frozen for a second, in disbelief that any of this could really be real before darting after you. “Y/n! Y/n, come back here! I’m serious!”
It didn’t do much to stop you, seeing as you were already out the door quickly pacing towards the familiar BMW. “Y/n…Y/n! Seriously, I’m not fucking joking. I’m not driving you anywhere!” Steve shouted after you as he started to catch up.
“Steve, if you think I’m going to spend what might possibly be the last day of my fucking life in the armpit that is Mike Wheeler’s basement, then you’re out of your mind,” you shot back, still sauntering towards the car. If your life wasn’t in jeopardy, Steve would have thought it was hot; the swish of your hips, the way your hair bounced with each assertive step you took, the way your jeans hugged your ass. But now was not the time to get distracted.
“I don’t think you heard me, y/n. I’m not fucking driving you.”
“Oh I heard you loud and clear, Harrington. But if you won’t drive me, then I guess I’ll have to drive myself,” you said, unlocking the driver’s side door to Steve’s car.
“Um, fuck no!” Steve exclaimed, putting a hand on his car door to hold it shut as you attempted to open it. You whipped around, your eyes shooting daggers at your boyfriend. His face was mere inches away from yours as he leaned on his arm, his bodyweight keeping the door shut tight. You continued to stare into his eyes, your stern expression causing his to break as he sighed and relented, dropping his arm in exasperation. “Fine. But I’m driving.”
You tossed him the keys as you smirked, walking around the car as you eagerly hopped into the passenger seat.
“That was kind of wild,” Lucas mumbled to Dustin and Max who all stood dumbfounded by the encounter between the two of you.
“Yeah, she’s got him wrapped around her finger,” Max chuckled, “good for her.”
The three kids piled into the backseat of Steve’s car and Steve drove off after making sure everyone was appropriately buckled. The radio that was usually always on remained silent, no one really in the mood to listen to whatever overplayed tune was undoubtedly being broadcasted across your small town. You navigated, hesitant to tell Steve where you actually needed to go. You could tell he was nervous, his right hand reaching across the center console to squeeze your upper thigh, needing to hold onto you.
After you had spent a decent amount of time driving, you finally saw the sign you’d been looking for. “Turn here,” you spoke up, clearing your throat uncomfortably as you said it. Steve looked at you questioningly but followed your instructions, slowly turning into the Roane Hill Cemetery.
“I’ll just be a minute,” you assured Steve as you began to unbuckle to get out of the car. He gently grabbed your elbow, stopping your all fire hurry to exit the vehicle. “Steve—“
“Y/n, I get it. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, okay? We all are. You don’t have to go through this alone,” he spoke gently. You turned over your shoulder and saw the sincerity in everyone’s eyes.
“This,” you replied, looking out the car window up the small hill of the cemetery, “this is something I have to do alone.”
Steve nodded, giving your arm a gentle squeeze before letting go and looking at you with sympathy as you began making your way towards the clearing at the top of the hill. When you made it to the top, you took a deep breath as you read the name on the gravestone. Jim Hopper.
You hadn’t interacted much with Hawkins’ Chief of Police much before the Upside Down had entered your life. In fact, though you knew he was an effective cop, you wrote him off as an egotistical asshole, rolling your eyes at his usually irritating antics. However, after all that you had been through together, he became the kind of person you wanted to emulate. He did the best that he could to protect all of you kids. He would do anything to make sure you were all safe. He’d even given his life for it; the ultimate sacrifice.
He was truly a hero. But now he was gone, nothing left of him besides the grave in this cemetery and the memories in your heart. You felt guilt tear through your chest as you noticed that the flowers you had left the last time you came had began to wither and wilt.
“I don’t really know what to say,” you started off, tears beginning to well in your eyes. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t fix any of this. I’m sorry that I couldn’t keep the kids safe like I should’ve. I’m sorry that you can’t be there for El. I’m sorry that you didn’t get to see her grow up…that-that you don’t get to see her smile anymore. Every time I keep telling myself that all of this is over. I-I keep lying to myself and acting like everything is fine and that I’m happy and that everything is going to turn out alright, but I think deep down I know that it isn’t going to be.”
Tears began to stream down your face. “We all deserved to have these normal lives that we always pretend to have, you know? Those kids deserve to have normal lives. They shouldn’t have to worry about monsters underneath their feet and alternate dimensions that want to do them harm. They deserve to have the kind of lives that you wanted them to have, and I’m sorry I couldn’t make that happen Hopper. This all just feels like one big mistake…or-or a nightmare I can’t wake up from. And I feel guilty every time I look at Steve and my heart lets me feel lucky for even just a fraction of a second because if anything is true, we are not fucking lucky.”
You squeezed your eyes shut as you wiped your nose on the back of your sleeve, breathing in a shaky breath as you tried to fight the sobs that your body desperately needed to let out. You felt guilty admitting it, but the happiness in your relationship with Steve did scare you. You didn’t deserve to be happy; you were sure of it.
When you opened your eyes, your heart stopped in your chest. The clear skies that had been there once before were now overcast as fog poured around you into the cemetery. You heard distorted laughter that sounded like it came from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. A chill ran down your spine as you heard a voice ring out.
“Y/n.”
***
Steve looked up the hill towards you. You were still sitting in front of a gravestone and you looked okay enough, but Steve didn’t trust any of it. He had a bad feeling deep within his gut, and he began to unbuckle his seatbelt. “Alright, it’s been long enough.”
“Steve, just give her some time,” Max spoke up. She knew that you were going through some things and knew you needed the space.
“I have, alright Mayfield? I’m calling it. If she wants to be mad at me, she can be fucking mad at me,” he grumbled as he slammed the car door shut, making his way up the hill. Cemeteries always made him feel uneasy, but he was confident that the pit in his stomach was unrelated as he swiftly jogged up the hill towards you.
“Y/n, baby? It’s time to go, alright? I know it’s hard, but we really need to get—“ Steve’s words died on his tongue as he saw you sitting there, unresponsive. Your eyes were rolled in the back of your head and blood began dripping down your nose.
“Y/n? Y/n! No, no, no, baby wake up! Wake up, y/n, you’re scaring me,” Steve’s words were short and shaky as he quickly went to wipe your nose, his first instinct being to take care of you. “Guys!”
Steve yelled down the hill and the three kids came running. Steve continued to shake you, watching as your body jolted around but you stayed catatonic, somewhere else in the moment, no doubt in some terror filled nightmare. A far off whimper escaped your lips and if Steve wasn’t already losing it, he would’ve lost it right then and there.
“Y/n! Please wake up!” Max shouted, snapping in front of your eyes, hoping it would draw them forward and alert, but they stayed rolled back in your head, eyelids twitching and fluttering.
“Come on, y/n. Get out of there!” Lucas yelled, beginning to shake your shoulders too. Steve turned towards Dustin, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.
“Call Nancy and Robin! Just go! Call Nancy and Robin!” He shoved the boy, and he fell backwards, tumbling over as he scrambled to make his way back to the car. He had never seen Steve so desperate before and they had been through a lot together. Dustin felt his blood run cold. This was life or death.
“Y/n, come on baby. I love you, please come back to me!” Steve cried out, squeezing your hand in his, hoping that wherever you were that you could hear him somehow. “Think of all the things we haven’t gotten to do together yet…I mean, we-we have a whole life ahead of us! I want to do it all with you, but you have to come back to me.”
His voice cracked, and when you didn’t respond he began shaking your shoulders again, feeling sick to his stomach at the way your head lolled in every which way, your neck unable to support the weight of it. Your nose continued to bleed and your limbs were twitching. He could see your neck straining and it reminded him of the way you looked as you tried to breathe through a panic attack.
“Y/n! You gotta get out of there!” Lucas shouted.
“Y/n! Please! You’ve got this, come on!” Max chimed in.
Dustin finally came bounding up the hill, dropping Max’s walkman and a bunch of cassettes in front of them that he had dug out of Steve’s glovebox. “Steve! What’s her favorite song?!”
“Why?” Lucas asked, panic radiating from his voice.
“It’s too much to explain right now! What’s her favorite song?!” Dustin screamed.
Steve didn’t need to be told twice, rifling through the tapes until he found the one with a label and his shitty handwriting on it. His hands were shaking as he fumbled the cassette, shoving it into the walkman before quickly and haphazardly placing the headphones over your ears. His hands trailed to either side of your face as he looked at you, his eyes frantically searching your face, hoping that whatever fix Dustin seemed to think he found would be instantaneous.
The cassette tape had all of the songs you guys would belt out in the car when they played on the radio. He loved hearing you sing off key to the songs and the way you’d dance in the passenger seat making faces to fit the lyrics of the songs. He had finally decided he couldn’t wait around for the radio to play all of your favorites, desperately wanting to watch you dance every time he had a chance to, so he made you a mixtape with all your favorites. He was saving it to give you for your first anniversary, which was now four months away. But after all, in this situation, it was either early or never, so he pressed play and Running up that Hill by Kate Bush began to blare through the headphones.
It had been a second and nothing was happening. Your eyes were still rolled in the back of your head and you were still twitching. “It’s not working Dustin!” Steve shouted, his hands falling from your face as he turned towards the Henderson boy. No sooner had he lost contact with you did your body begin to lift off of the ground, your legs coming uncrossed as you levitated out of reach from your friends down below.
“No! Y/n!” Steve shouted. He wished he hadn’t let you go. Maybe if he hadn’t he could have kept whatever was about to happen from happening. He thought back to all of the horrors Eddie had described and he began to hyperventilate. He couldn’t watch that happen to you. You were his everything.
In your nightmare, you were tied up by vines, pressed against some sort of pillar staring straight at Vecna. He kept insisting you belonged there, reminding you of how much danger you put the kids in. You deserved to stay here in this dark and dreary hellscape. You had seen Chrissy and Fred and you felt like you could vomit thinking about your body being contorted in the same way.
“Let me go!” You choked out, hardly able to speak with the vine around your throat cutting off your access to oxygen. Suddenly you heard something familiar as a melody drifted towards your ears, building slowly in the background until the music swelled and nearly became all that you could hear. You turned ever so slightly to your left and saw a glimpse into the real world. Your heart stopped as you watched your boyfriend desperately calling your name, your body hovering several feet above his head.
“They can’t help you, y/n,” Vecna assured you, his crooked hand coming up towards your face.
“You’re wrong,” you choked out and suddenly the vine behind you snapped and you fell forward, breaking out into a sprint towards the tunnel of reality just out of reach. You tried to keep your footing, but you slipped several times on thick red pools of blood, the sticky liquid soaking into your clothes. You tried to ignore it as you continued to sprint. Your legs kept wanting to give up, but you just kept thinking about all you had left to live for and channeled that into your sprint.
You thought about Steve and the life you wanted to build together. You thought about the way you knocked on his door that fateful day. You thought about the way he let you in even though he didn’t have to; the way he changed for you, the way he tried every day to be better for you. You thought about the jokes he told that made you laugh so hard you cried and the way he’d carry you up the stairs when you fell asleep on the couch. You thought about the kisses he’d pepper across your skin whenever he had the chance to. You thought about the way you felt when you were wrapped up in him the night before and how you didn’t want your first time to be the last time. You thought about the way his brown eyes stared into yours, the way they said so much without him ever having to open his mouth.
You were going to look into those eyes again. So you sprinted. Past falling debris, through rough terrain, and towards him.
Towards home.
Your eyes peeled open and you gasped, staring at the tree line in a way you’d never seen it before. Your stomach dropped as you began falling to the ground, plummeting back towards earth. You hit the ground hard, and you were hyperventilating as everyone immediately surrounded you. Steve pushed past the kids and wrapped his arms around you, clinging to you as if you’d disappear again.
“Y/n! I thought I lost you!” Steve cried out as he placed a frantic kiss against your lips. He pulled back to look at you for a second, fear and panic across his face before he leaned in and kissed you again. You were his oxygen and he needed you to breathe right now.
You pulled away, gripping his bicep as you attempted to calm down your breathing. “I’m still…I’m still here,” you reassured him, tears falling from your eyes.
He was quick to wipe them away before he buried his face in your neck, taking a deep breath as he reveled in the comfort of your familiar scent. He placed a gentle kiss against your neck and pulled you towards him even tighter.
You were still here, and he wasn’t going to let anything like that happen ever again.
***
You all had spent the night at the Wheelers’ again, deciding now more than ever it was vital to stick together. Nancy had had to fight Steve to get him to sleep, convincing him that the rest of you were more than capable of taking turns watching you to make sure that you were okay.
“Dustin…Earth to Dustin,” Eddie’s voice rang out over the walkie talkie. Steve groaned as he woke up. He was sore from the way that his body was positioned in the chair he had been sleeping in. He grabbed the walkie off of the coffee table, pressing down the button to speak into it.
“What the fuck do you want Munson?” Steve spat.
“Oh, Harrington. Um, I’m going to need a food delivery, unless you want me going out into the world.”
“Don’t fucking do that. Just stay where you are and we’ll be there as soon as we can” Steve grumbled, sighing as he aggressively went to set the walkie back down, but Eddie’s voice rang out again.
“Hey, can you pick me up a six-pack? I know it’s dumb to be drinking right now, but a cold beer would really cool my nerves you know?”
As Eddie said it, Steve rolled his eyes, turning back towards the couch you were sleeping on, needing to remind himself of your constant kindness to calm himself down. It had the opposite effect when he saw the empty space, you being nowhere to be found.
“I’m gonna have to call you back,” Steve quickly relayed to Eddie before dropping the walkie talkie and bounding across the basement to wake up Dustin. “Dipshit! What the fuck?! You’re supposed to be watching y/n!” Steve spat as the boy finally opened his eyes.
“Yeah…yeah, yeah, yeah.”
“Where the fuck is she?!”
“She’s right there,” Dustin started, but his heart dropped as he looked over and saw that you were gone, “she was right there a second ago. I just dozed off for…an hour.”
His eyes got wide as he looked at his watch and the two boys bounded up the stairs. Steve finally cooled off when he saw you sitting at the kitchen table with Holly. You were helping her color a coloring book page, stopping every once in a while to help her cut her pancake. Steve felt his heart skip at how domestic and maternal you looked, hoping you would all get past this so that he could have the future with you that he envisioned, with perfect little combinations of the two of you sitting at your own kitchen table.
“Everything okay?” Mrs. Wheeler asked. Steve just nodded making his way towards the kitchen table. Nancy had woken up when the boys had not so quietly ascended the stairs and she was rubbing her eyes as she also made her way to the kitchen.
“I think it’s so sweet that you guys are sticking together like this,” Mrs. Wheeler continued, pulling Nancy into a very stiff and awkward side hug that she did not reciprocate.
“You could try sticking together at a different house for a change,” Mr. Wheeler chimed in, not even looking up from his newspaper.
“Hey, are you okay?” Steve asked, sitting down next to you, his hand going to the small of your back.
“Yeah,” you gave him a weak smile. “It’s just kind of hard to sleep after…everything.” You chose your words carefully so as to not let Nancy’s parents in on the reality of the absurdity that was your life. “But Holly let me borrow some of her crayons and we’ve been having a fun morning.”
You smiled at the small girl and Steve felt his heart explode. Nancy stood next to you and spoke up. “Is this what you saw last night? Do you think he’s just trying to scare you?”
“Yeah, but this stuff is different,” you said, gesturing to the drawings in front of you. “I don’t think he wanted me to see any of this.”
“Maybe you invaded his mind,” Dustin suggested, “I mean, that’s what he’s been doing to you, is it that big of leap to suggest that somehow you wound up in his?”
“Yeah, maybe the answer’s somewhere in this incredibly…vague drawing,” Steve added on, holding up a piece of paper and rotating it. “Damn, we need Will.”
“I know, but I tried them again this morning and it’s the same busy signal,” you replied, putting your head in your hands.
Nancy suddenly started reorganizing the papers, folding them and overlapping them until they made an image that made some semblance of sense.
“It’s…it’s a house,” you spoke breathlessly. You weren’t sure how you had managed to draw a deconstructed house considering you weren’t even close to being an artist, but hey accidental accomplishments are accomplishments nonetheless.
“Not just any house,” Nancy looked at you wide eyed. “It’s Victor Creel’s house.”
You shuddered as Nancy and Dustin quickly moved downstairs to tell the others about their discovery. You got up and moved the other way towards the Wheelers’ family room, desperately needing to remove yourself from the oblivious remainder of the Wheelers that were in the kitchen. Steve quickly followed you, gently grabbing your hand as he spoke up.
“Hey, baby…what’s wrong?”
“Steve, I just don’t have a good feeling about this,” anxiety was etched across your face as you said it. He squeezed your hand and pulled you towards him.
“I know, y/n. But answers are good…that means we’re getting somewhere,” he reminded you.
“But that’s the thing,” you started, “just because we’re getting somewhere doesn’t mean it’s anywhere good. Vecna’s smart, he knows what he’s doing. I mean, what….what-what if we’re walking into a trap! What if this is exactly what he wants us to do? We can’t keep just following every thread he gives us. He’s weaving a web, Steve. And if we’re not careful, we’re all going to end up getting caught in it.”
“We have to try though, right? We can’t just give up or else we’re putting everyone—not just us—everyone in jeopardy,” he tried to appeal to your selflessness and world-saving tendencies, but really deep down, he only wanted to follow this thread because it meant they had a shot at saving you.
He dropped your hand, holding his up between the two of you, and you were met with the familiar sight of his extended pinky.
“To saving the world?” He asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. Your face relaxed for a moment, your lips breaking into a small smile.
“To saving the world,” you agreed as you wrapped your pinky around his before leaning in and placing a gentle kiss to his lips.
You didn’t like where this was headed, but you could at least give it your best shot. If it meant that you and Steve could have more pinky promises and more soft kisses, then it would be worth it.
You just hoped that it wouldn’t ruin you in the process.
***
a/n: I hope y’all enjoyed the chapter. Reblog to give me a much needed boost of serotonin ;)
taglist:
@season4steve @sassyheroneckgiant @tangledinthegreatxscape @maeve-wileyy @palachannie @chaerfull @usaguisenpaisblog @emilieluckwood @sabrinadelreyy @mochminnie @xprloki @kitdjarin1 @kissmxcheek @daemonskitty @bethsvrse @aheadfullofsteverogers @quinnsadilla @chervbs @sheisjoeschateau @goosy-goose
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damian wayne is an emotionally stunted child, that much is true. irrevocably so, even. and yeah, most of it is due to the leagues influence and training especially in his formative years, but also bruce wayne (or even dick grayson) is not an emotionally-responsible poster child.
in a way, his negative behaviors are reinforced through bruce and dick’s (and possibly alfred’s?) way of parenting him. (lack of deeper conversation, not setting healthy boundaries or expectations, not setting consequences or explaining why his actions were wrong, etc) and yeah he’s an assassin child, he’s not going to be the paradigm of mentally and socially stable, but they way they handle it is a disservice not only to him, but also to those who face the brunt of his actions.
that leads to one tim drake. he was robin when damian was brought into the family so naturally that’s where a large bit of his own insecurity of his place in the family (because he focuses on securing his spot in the family, rather than looking around and realizing he had one as soon as he was introduced to bruce wayne; again tho not his fault) is focused on. it’s a disservice to tim because he keeps getting the shitty end of the deal, while damian faces no real or meaningful consequences. on top of this, he receives no real apologies from either damian or the adults in their lives who are supposed to protect them.
(and yeah they’re teenaged vigilantes, there’s only so much danger the adults can protect them from but a better effort could be made easily.)
not only does this hurt the future social and familial relationships of damian but ALSO tim. it gives tim a reason to feel mistrust in not only his brothers but also the adults in his life. i see a lot of people defending damian (in relation to tim) by saying “he’s a kid, he was trained by the league of assassins, it’s not his fault, he’s just trying to find his place.” and to some extent they’re not wrong, but they’re also neglecting the fact that TIM is also just a kid. not only was he just a kid, but a emotionally (and physically) neglected kid. these behaviors could set him back emotionally as well.
it is important to remember that this isn’t necessarily damian’s fault. his actions? yes. should he take responsibility for them and own up to his mistakes? also yes. but i can also acknowledge that he’s a teenager— a young one at that. mistakes are going to be made, but it’s also the adults’ responsibility in his life to make him understand the weight of his actions and their consequences for others.
granted, these are fictional characters so take everything i say with a grain of salt, this is just stuff i’ve been thinking on when interacting with the fandom (specifically focused on the realm of fannon) anyways sorry for the essay
tldr: damian and tim are somehow both failed by the adults around them, even after leaving one shitty environment for a better one. it’s not their faults entirely, outside factors, especially in the forms of guardians, also play a role.
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girlactionfigure · 27 days
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THE HOLOCAUST WAS IN COLOUR
I woke up today in Jerusalem to the sound of a siren marking Yom HaShoah - Holocaust Memorial Day. The fucking Holocaust. This thing that's there. This thing that every Jewish kid has to learn about far too young. There’s no good age to learn about it. It takes away an innocence whatever age you learn.
It's a lesson of: actually - the worst shit can happen.
Actually - the worst shit did happen.
Actually the worst shit could happen again.
There is no objective proof of God - but Auschwitz did happen. It’s difficult to remain idealistic about human beings after that. If tales of individual acts of heroism that emerged from the Holocaust are supposed to give us solace and an after-taste of hope, the bigger question is what is it that makes these tales such anomalies?? What is it that prevented every person from being a hero? And why did it happen in the first place?
Visiting Auschwitz ruined part of me. It really did. Even before visiting, all that bullshit ruined part of me. I remember seeing images on TV as a kid and that ain't healthy. To see ghouls hanging on barbed wire. Piles of skeleton and flesh. I don't see how it can't ruin anyone if that's you and your kind they were gunning for. The idea that people murdered you because you were born you. The idea that your fellow countrymen turned round and said: actually you're not one of us. Or turned a blind eye, buttoned up their lips, gazed down in silence and left you to deal with it on your own. It's not like this puts joy in your heart. It puts something in your heart that I can't explain. It puts in your heart the sensation that some people don't want your heart to beat. And that's a confusing feeling for any heart: a nexus of emotions. A paralytic, existential moment. The loneliest heart, scarred by barbed wire and frost.
The fact that I can only trace my family tree back a few generations has always gnawed at me. I can only go back so far and then there's nothing. Just a black hole. Part of my connection with planet earth has been blotted out for good. I've been disinherited of my roots - from knowing the specifics of who I am and where I come from.
A few years back I visited Auschwitz - this massive shithole in Poland. And it's not like this death factory could have been a secret. There's no way. People knew. It's huge. It just goes on and on. And there's something weird about it. And you can't quite figure it out. And then you realise - it's all in colour. It's not in black and white. The images we're used to seeing of Auschwitz are black and white. And as horrific as those images are they provide a safe, historical distance. It appears a bygone world far removed from us. But it's here in colour and it's the same world we inhabit. The same air, the same trees, the same rain falling. And the human beings would have been in colour too, with red blood cells and capillaries and hearts beating like ours. They weren’t creatures from yester-year, they were modern human beings with the same body parts and feelings. And they were murdered by modern human beings who also had the same body parts and who probably loved their children and kissed their partners goodnight.
There's more I could write. I could write about mountains of shoes. I could write about piles of hair. I could write about buttons and cutlery and possessions that emerge from the mud in the rain. I remember having a stupid back and forth in my mind over some buttons I found which I put back into the mud. I had this stupid thought that maybe I should have "liberated" the buttons rather than leave them in that shithole - but then thinking that would be stealing? But would it be stealing if they'd been stolen by scum and were now being "taken back" in a spirit of love and solidarity by someone on their side? “Liberating buttons.” Stupid stuff. Ridiculous thoughts that you can somehow do something correct to rectify what happened here and bring some kind of harmony. In the end I left them. The buttons were stolen and they don't belong to Auschwitz - but they belong to the memory of what happened there - so they can at least continue to speak from the mud to anyone who sees them.
If I'm honest, part of me wishes I hadn't visited the place. I came away angry and it killed any absolute faith I have in human beings. As I say, individual tales of heroism and defiance aren’t enough to justify true optimism. They're a plaster to cover up the deeper sickness of who and what we are as a species. There's something worrying about human beings and our capacity for cruelty. A species whose children pick the wings off flies, combined with a propensity to herd mentality, is dangerous. It should trouble all of us. I don't know how we overcome it, keep it restrained, or collectively channel it toward a universally agreed direction that’s aimed at goodness.
If I have one reflection on whatever nonsense it is I'm writing it's this: I think there's a violence in human beings. There is violence in the human soul. There is violence and there is cruelty. But more than that there is fear. Despite our songs and poems, I'm not sure love is the most powerful force on earth. There’s a strong argument to suggest fear is the primary driving force behind the actions of the animal we call a human being. It's fear of freezing to death that causes us to build shelters. It's fear of going hungry that causes us to stock food. It's fear of being ostracised that causes us to ostracise others. It's fear of ridicule that breeds conformity. It's fear that causes people to keep their heads down. And when the moment of danger comes? When the tyrants enter? When the bullies arrive? It's fear that causes people to not speak up. To turn a blind eye. To let someone else take the bullet. People can bombastically jump on the bandwagon and say "never again" but it’s tough to find your voice when face to face with a bully. People can say never again but it’s tough to square up if someone has raised their fist and shown they will use it. It’s tough to be brave when the moment comes and there's so many thoughts going through your mind and your brain and adrenalin decides it's best to shut down and stay quiet for the sake of self-preservation. It’s tough to do good things in this world because the bad things are loud and scary and intimidating. It’s tough for people to rise above fear. There’s a reason why heroes are called lone heroes. They’re uncommon.
That's why it's good to be writing this from Israel where Jews are once again in their ancestral home, the place they forged an indigenous civilisation many thousands of years ago before the Babylonians and Romans forced them into exile. A place where they can ensure that "Never Again" is not left in the hands of a species that pulls the wings off flies. Google the Evian Conference - visit Auschwitz yourself - survival is not a game to be left in the hands of others or based on the strength of promises. Because there's always a chance that when the chips are against you and you call out to friends or others for help, you could be left hanging around wondering when they'll arrive?
And the answer might be:
Never. Again.
So. Anyway. It's 5pm. I need a piss. Then I'll probably eat some bread. A siren went off this morning. Just one final thought before I have a wee. I say that any absolute faith I have in human beings is lost. And that's true. Yet every day I experience such joy at existing. I love walking about, talking to people and connecting with souls cut from the same cloth. I like nature and I like looking at things and if I didn't love science so much I'd probably be a new age nut hugging trees and trying to kiss ants. Being alive is the most beautiful thing I've experienced to date.
And as embarrassed as I am to say it would you look at me trying to finish on a positive note?
Maybe there is something stronger than fear?
The persistant impulse to seek blessings in a world full of curses. The sheer chutzpah of life. The defiance. Not to vanquish the darkness, but to live in spite of the darkness. I can handle a world where Auschwitz took place if I also get to live in a world where there are people I love. I can handle a world where there’s horror if I also get to laugh now and then. And the fact that love, laughter and happiness can blossom in a world where the worst can happen - and has - must count for something. Deep down the impulse to go in search of life’s blessings is within all of us. It’s part of who we are. It’s why we get up each morning. We have to have faith that all will be well even when logic, history and common sense says otherwise. Actually it’s not even a question of faith. We have no choice. I think hope is hardwired into all of us. Deeper than fear. We are a creature that hopes. And sometimes, with the right wind behind us, at the right tide, we make those hopes come true. Sometimes, if you will it, it is no dream.
Lee Kern
This was written in Jerusalem in 2015 on Yom HaShoah - Holocaust Memorial Day
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bloompawz · 29 days
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I don't understand the whole, "You can't explain gender stuff to kids; they're too young to understand" argument. Refusing to explain anything just results in more confusion.
As a kid, I thought that trans people were a really cool hypothetical, but didn't realize that could actually be a real thing until years later. I used to try to find portals where I could step in and swap my gender in elementary school, because I thought that would be the only way.
In third grade, we had a project where we were given the letters of our names and pictures of our faces, and we were supposed to draw the rest for a sort of classroom student book thing. I dropped some of the letters in my name to make it masculine, cut off the hair, and drew stuff that I thought was cool.
The teacher saw this and said, "Is that really how you want people to remember you?" clearly expecting me to say "no."
But I said "Yes," and the teacher argued against this for a bit, before giving in and allowing me to use the art that I made. They still made me create a version that aligned with my AGAB, though. The masculine version was only kept in black and white.
(Fun fact: My chosen name is actually almost identical to the name I chose in third grade. I had a pretty good idea of what I wanted, even with my limited knowledge on what I could do.)
I fantasized about being able to change my gender a lot as a kid, whether that meant being a boy, or being neither a girl nor a boy, or being between/some sort of boygirl. I wished that I could "genderbend," because that was the terminology I knew.
I learned that trans people actually exist in like... Middle school? And people were super transphobic at the time, so I internalized that for a few years before accepting that I'm trans. That pain could've been avoided if I had been taught from a young age that trans people exist, and that it's okay to be trans.
I was a trans kid, and I didn't know that was what I was until I was a teen, because I wasn't given the opportunity to know. Trans kids exist, regardless of whether you give them language to express their experiences or not.
And I've met trans kids who knew that terminology, and knew that they were trans because of it. I've also met kids who weren't trans, but still experimented with pronouns and gender expression for a short while to see how they felt, because they were given the freedom to do so. It's good to let kids explore who they are.
I'm also openly trans, and I don't hide this from anyone. Kids understand, even if I'm the first to explain it to them. It's not a hard concept to grasp. My little brother was introducing me to his friends as his big brother even when I was expressing myself very femininely, and hardly any kids batted an eye. Some of them were curious why I looked so feminine for a guy, and it was easy to explain. It has also been easy to explain what being nonbinary means.
Kids latch onto concepts like gender more easily than you think. Out of everyone in my family, my little brother (who still isn't even a teen yet) has been one of the most supportive people when it comes to my transition. I can't think of a time when he has misgendered me- not in years, at least. He caught on fast, and he never gets it wrong. He even corrects people who misgender me. I get misgendered by the adults in my family much more than the children.
Kids get it. All you gotta do is explain.
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What if little Lucky got lost and ran into either Buggy or Smoker. Little Lucky is scared because they lost the strawhats.
Little Lucky thought they were following one of the Strawhats but was unknowingly following someone else, which happened to be either Smoker or Buggy.
(Ever had those moments as a little kid when you thought you were following your mother, but you were just following some random adult?)
And Buggy or Smoker is like, "Who's baby/kid is this?" Little Lucky looks like they're about to cry, then Buggy or Smoker panics says something like, "Wait! I'll help you find your parents!".
Either Buggy or Smoker take it upon themselves to find who is responsible for this child (little Lucky). Buggy or Smoker go up to random people saying, "Is this your kid?". By the time they find who is responsible for little Lucky (Strawhats) , they end up bonding with little Lucky and become attached.
Oh I did that once. Ran up to and hugged a woman that looked identical to my mom from behind. I was so mortified that I still remember this clearly like 20 years later.
Anyways
Usually I skip non-canon anime only stuff to avoid confusion, but I have included an anime only character in this one because it was too funny to leave him out.
Not What It Looks Like
Yandere Smoker x Child Reader
2.9k words
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Once again, Smoker found himself staring down a pirate, though the pirate in question hadn’t noticed him yet. He didn’t even need to double check with a poster to confirm who this one was. Buggy the Clown was a very distinct looking individual.
Smoker took advantage of the fact that he was distracted to get closer and overhear the conversation he was having. Buggy was crouched down and talking to a small child. A little girl that couldn’t be more than five, if that. You looked distraught and confused.
“W-What do you mean? My mom isn’t here,” you sniffled loudly and scrubbed at your face.
“She’s gotta be, come on just think. She’s about this tall, looks just like you but with some bandages on her head,” Buggy pleaded with you, grasping onto your arms and looking desperate.
You flinched away, and Smoker decided it was his time to intervene. Using his devil fruit, he surrounded the clown with plumes of smoke to trap him. Buggy let out a screech upon finally noticing him and promptly disassembled his body to slip away. Which he was able to do successfully, much to Smoker’s chagrin.
Giving chase should be his number one priority, but his attention was drawn to the teary eyed girl in front of him. There were visible tear tracks going down your face, and your mouth was agape. Made sense, he supposes. This was probably your first time witnessing a devil fruit power. 
Crouching down to be closer to your height, he attempts to comfort you, “You alright kid? Did that pirate hurt you?”
The question snapped you out of your daze. You rubbed at your face and shook your head, “I’m okay. He didn’t hurt me, he was just asking a bunch of weird questions.”
“Like what?” He had to admit that he couldn’t even imagine what a pirate could possibly hope to learn from someone as young as you.
“He kept asking about my mom, but the questions didn’t make any sense. I think he was lying about knowing her,” you mumbled.
“Where is your mom, is she nearby?”
You became shifty at the question and nervously fidgeted your hands. It took a few seconds of anxiously looking around for you to come up with an answer, “Um… She isn’t here. She’s… gone?”
That was a strange way to answer the question, you didn’t seem to know how to answer it. Smoker really didn’t like that, and some alarm bells started going off in his head. He sighed when he saw you attempt to wipe off your face again. Digging around in one of his pockets, he pulled out a handkerchief and used it to properly clean you off. Fortunately, you let him do so without a fight and seemed to have calmed down slightly.
Given how long he’s been living here, he was able to guess that you weren’t local. Probably with some people passing through, but who? Might as well ask, “Who are you here with, kid?”
“My friends,” you answered simply.
He quirked a brow at that, “Are these friends your age?” 
You shook your head, “No, they’re all grown ups.”
Your story was getting weird, so he pressed further, “Are any of them your family?”
“No.” Your face pinched, and again you looked unsure of your answer, “Well, Nami told me to call her “big sis”, so I guess she is?”
So you’re traveling with friends that are all much older than you, your mom is “gone?”, and one of these friends is telling you to call her “big sis”. Something is definitely going on here, and he doesn’t like it at all. Could this get any weirder? He asks you how long you’ve known these friends of yours.
“Since yesterday.”
Oh. It could get weirder. This was starting to sound like a human trafficking case to him, and he couldn’t let that go under his watch. Looks like he would have to put his pirate hunting on hold for the time being.
He held out his hand to you, “I’m Captain Smoker, what’s your name?”
You hesitated for a moment before gently taking his gloved hand in both of yours, “My name’s Lucky. I’m not a captain or anything, though.”
“How about I help you find your friends again?” He needed to meet them for himself, just to make sure you aren’t in the middle of being trafficked. 
You anxiously squeezed his hand and looked nervous, “I dunno… I’m not supposed to go with strangers. Nami is already gonna be mad at me for walking away and getting lost.” Your lip trembled and you looked like you were about to start crying again.
“Do you want ice cream? I’ll buy you some if you let me help you,” he internally cringed at this. He shouldn’t be encouraging you to take bribes from strangers, but he needs you to cooperate with him for your safety.
Instantly, your eyes lit up at the prospect of getting a treat, “Really?!”
Looks like he’s got you on his side now. That was easy. He smiled at you and ruffled your hair before returning to his full height, “Yes, really. Come on, kid. We’ll get ice cream and then find your friends.” And possibly arrest them, but that’s neither here nor there.
You still had a hold on his hand, but now with only one of yours as you walked alongside him, visibly excited about ice cream. At least he was able to defuse the situation and avoid having you cry again.
There was an ice cream shop not far from here, so it didn’t take long to get there. You were bouncing up and down in place and chanting about ice cream while waiting for your turn. Some older ladies seated at a table nearby were cooing at the sight. Smoker overheard one of them calling this a ‘daddy-daughter date’. He shot them a sideways glance, but didn’t deem it worth it to correct them.
As soon as you’d gotten your ice cream, you thanked Smoker and happily started eating it, seemingly forgetting all about being separated from your friends. He supposes he’ll have to remind you about it.
“Where was the last place you saw Nami, kid?”
You perked up, then went into thought for a moment while licking your treat. You hummed, “I think we were at a clothes store? I don’t remember which one, I wasn’t paying attention.”
That really didn’t narrow it down at all. There were tons of clothing stores in Loguetown. “Do you remember where the store was?” He asked, desperate to get any other details.
“I dunno, I think it was close to the docks,” you shrugged. 
Alright, that still didn’t help much, but it looks like that’s all he’s going to be getting out of you in regards to that. Asking about Nami would probably get him farther, “What does Nami look like?”
While you rambled out a description of her, he was scanning the crowd. No one in his line of sight matched what you were telling him, but that wasn’t particularly shocking. This is a big town, he was unlikely to track a single person down that quickly. At least her orange hair would stick out to him if they did cross paths.
“Hey mister, how come there’s a big stain on your pants?” You asked from slightly behind him. You’d relinquished holding hands with him in favor of your ice cream, leading to you falling a little behind.
Stain? Oh, wait. That’s right, a kid ran into him with her own cone earlier, he’d already forgotten about it. He waved off your inquiry, “My pants ate someone’s ice cream, don’t worry about it.”
You took a decisive step away from him, protectively holding your cone, “Your pants aren’t going to eat mine, too, are they?” You were staring at his pants suspiciously, as if they were about to come after you if you didn’t keep an eye on them.
A brief, quiet chuckle escaped him, “They might if you aren’t paying attention and run into me.” This made you take another step back. Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say if he didn’t want you getting separated from him.
“How about you sit on my shoulders? That way you can look for your friends and my pants won’t be able to reach your ice cream.”
After a moment of weighing your options, you agree and allow him to place you on his shoulders. He’s pretty sure that you’re far too focused on your treat to really help him look for your friends, but now they will be able to see you. Admittedly, this came with the risk of them noticing him too and turning tail to run. While he would prefer to arrest them, at least you would be spared from whatever fate they had in mind for you.
Strolling around the docks would likely be the best course of action. At least one of them could be on the ship, and you ought to be able to point out which one is theirs. Smoker took a less traveled side road to get there. It was the fastest way, plus it would be nice to get a break from how crowded the other streets were. Currently, you two are the only ones here.
“I. Cannot. Believe you.”
Smoker came to an abrupt halt. He knew that voice well, though he could fathom why he would be saying such a thing to him.
“We’ve known each other for years, how have you never told me?” His naturally gruff voice, thick with a southern drawl, plainly revealed how betrayed he felt. It was still unclear as to why.
“What are you going on about, Masterson?” Smoker turned to the side, eyes landing on the local bounty hunter, Daddy the Father. Though Smoker much preferred his actual name to such a ridiculous moniker. Masterson had just exited a candy store. Several shopping bags were on one arm, while the opposing hand was holding his daughter’s. Her blonde curls bounced as she looked back and forth between them, seemingly also confused by the interaction.
“How have you never told me about your daughter?! She looks like she’s about Carol’s age, they could’ve been friends this whole time!” 
Smoker stiffened, this was the worst possible misunderstanding that could have happened today. “No. No, no, no. This isn’t-”
“We’re friends aren’t we? How could you do this to me?” Masterson put a hand on his hip, the shopping bags loudly crinkling against each other, and glowered at Smoker accusingly.
His gloved hand pinched the bridge of his nose, “We are colleagues, Masterson. I haven’t d-”
“Quit bein’ so formal, you can just call me Daddy,” Masterson, dead set on not letting Smoker get a word in, waved his hand dismissively. 
“Absolutely not.” Smoker keeps talking even when Masterson tries to cut him off again, “This is not my daughter, she’s just a lost child that I’m helping. That’s it.”
Masterson huffed, “You don’t need to lie to me, the jig is up. You’re gonna try tellin’ me that you buy ice cream for and carry around every lost kid you find? Is that your story?”
Carol gasped, “Oh! Can we get some ice cream too, daddy?”
The once rough voice completely transformed and took on a much lighter and gentler tone, “Of course, pumpkin! Just as soon as we’re done talking.” His voice went right back to normal when he faced Smoker again, “I mean, really? You’ve kept this from me for- How old are you, sweetie?” The voice changed again. It was bizarre hearing it switch up so rapidly.
“I’m four,” you answered plainly, apparently not caring at all about all the previous talk of Smoker being accused of being your father. 
“You’ve kept this from me for four years?!”
“I just met her today! She isn’t my kid!” He felt you get jostled a bit from his outburst. It probably wouldn’t be great for him if you dropped an ice cream cone on his head because he startled you. Smoker took a deep breath before gently grabbing you off his shoulders and setting you on the ground. You looked up at him briefly, but your attention was stolen away by Masterson.
The man had crouched down to be more on your level, “Is that your daddy?” You hadn’t even answered yet, but he was already smirking, no doubt thinking he was about to win this argument.
“No,” just like that, you wiped the smug look off his face. You hummed in thought while licking at your treat, “I don’t think I have one anymore.” You sounded disconcertingly nonchalant about this revelation. Now you’ve confirmed that neither of your parents are in the picture.
Masterson’s eyes softened and a frown tugged at the corners of his lips. Then, like a light went off, he looked up at Smoker with his eyebrows raised while gesturing towards you.
“What are you- No. I know what you’re getting at, and no,” he was not about to entertain this insane idea for even a second.
“But the poor thing doesn’t have a daddy, have a heart!”
“I can’t just adopt every kid without a family that I come across,” he can’t believe he’s even having this conversation right now, all because Masterson got such an absurd idea into his head. He has far more important matters to attend to, namely figuring out what is going on with your whole family situation and your “friends”.
“Well maybe not all of them, but why not this one? She’s already grown on you at least a little bit if you’re buying her ice cream,” the man was borderline pleading with him at this point. It was unfathomable as to why he was so hung up on this idea, but Smoker frankly could not be bothered to care enough to get to the bottom of it.
“You’re talking about this like she’s a stray dog I found on the street.” Smoker ran a hand down his face and sighed before sparing you a sideways glance. Mercifully, you didn’t appear all that bothered by the odd exchange going on between them. He spoke in a lower tone in hopes of keeping it that way, “Besides, there’s… more going on here.”
A colder, hardened edge flashed in Masterson’s eyes, he definitely got the hint. He patted Carol on the back and nudged her towards you, “Why don’t you get to know your new friend, daddy has to talk business for a minute.”
The little girl didn’t need to be told twice, and quickly scurried over to you and started introducing herself. 
Smoker and Masterson put some distance between themselves and the children. Still close enough to keep an eye on you two, but far enough to have a chance to talk without being overheard.
Masterson pulled out a pack of cigarettes, shaking one out onto his hand, “What’s going on?”
“Trafficking from the looks of it. Her parents are absent, but her answers have been unusual regarding them.” Smoker decided to swap out his cigars for a couple of new ones now that he had his hands free again. “What really bothers me is that she’s here with “friends” that are all adults that she met yesterday.”
Masterson exhaled a puff of smoke, and shook his head, “Sounds about right. Saw a lot of that sort of thing back when I was still a traveling bounty hunter. They tell kids these fantastical stories to get them to come with them willingly so it’s easier to smuggle them. That girl probably thinks she’s going to a new family, or something of the like.” He glanced over to where you and Carol were with pity in his eyes, “You know who you're looking for yet?”
“I’ve got a description for one of them. A redheaded woman with a tattoo on her shoulder named Nami, but I haven’t encountered her yet. I was going to take her to the docks so she could point out their ship to me.”
The bounty hunter nodded, “Good idea, there could be more kids on board. You want help?”
“If you’re not too busy. An extra pair of eyes-”
“Oh! That’s one of my friends!” Your voice cut through the air in an excited squeal.
Both of them went on high alert instantly. Masterson’s hand hovered over his holstered gun and plumes of smoke began curling off of Smoker’s body as they both frantically surveyed their surroundings. No one else was here. Rather than running towards someone, you bounded over to a wall.
A wall with bounty posters plastered all over it. 
Oh, no.
Your empty hand excitedly slapped one poster in particular and you looked over your shoulder at Smoker with a smile on your face, “He’s one of my friends! It’s cool you got a picture of him!”
A bitter, vicious sensation seeped into Smoker’s heart as he glared at the poster. A young boy smiled back at him, not a care in the world to having his picture taken for a bounty poster. Monkey D. Luffy. Wanted dead or alive for a startling sum of 30,000,000 berry. 
Of course pirates were behind this. Everything was starting to come together and make more sense. Not that it changed much. He was still going to be arresting these friends of yours, just now he didn’t need to investigate them for a solid reason to do so. 
“Is he now? That’s good to know,” Smoker ground out while continuing to stare at the mocking grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll find him for you.”
And make sure the bastard rots in prison, but you didn’t need to know about that part.
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