#finally got around to drawing something non-platonic for these two and it only took like 6 months wowie

[catsharky]

A little early something for Valentine's Day ❤

Rolan got one too

[hoe-doroki]

passing the night stars

banner by @dymphnasprose​

warning: reader has social anxiety

pairing: shinsou x reader (platonic or romantic)

genre: hurt/comfort

wc: 3.2k

summary: The party was neon and you needed darkness.

a/n: this is a gift for my SiL’s birthday today! To any astronomy nerds: I tried and I’m sorry.

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

There was something to be said about distance.

It was a buffer, quieting every voice, external and internal, until the only one left was that of the crickets singing over the lo-fi spilling out of the house behind you. You’d stepped away from the party long enough ago that the playlist had started over many songs back—you had no clue how many anymore. The distance turned the music’s thrumming into a quiet melody, the lyrics just as indistinguishable up close as here in the backyard, sitting on patio furniture that rocked lopsidedly in the grass.

Any filter would do, though. Anything that could soften the world just a little around its loud, coarse edges. The ice in your peach-flavored hurricane melting so that the drink was a little less saccharine. The rum casting a film over your mood, keeping your loneliness from dropping you into total dolor. The slight late-night breeze blowing the smoke from the fire pit away from you so that the acrid smell was stronger on the hood of your black sweatshirt than the air. It all muddled your emotions, numbing the buzzing overwhelm of the party to an anxious hum. The party had been neon, and out here you had a bit more darkness.

Without these buffers absorbing some of the furor, you might have escaped the party hours ago. Snuck out while the thing was still in full thrall, before social anxiety could hiss over your bones. Got out while you were ahead. Instead, you’d lasted as long as you could before out to the backyard with the near-dead fire, wracked with guilt at the prospect of leaving without saying goodbye, while too nervous to actually draw the attention to yourself necessary to actually say goodbye.

That wasn’t to say you hadn’t held up for a good while, though. You’d hung out with your friends when the fire had just gotten started and then when the party had moved indoors for drinking games and edibles. You’d hovered on the border as your friends grew more interested in dancing in drunken delay to the somniferous lo-fi beat than conversation. Then the itching had started in your brain, and before you knew it, you were out here, social battery drained dry, waiting for an indefinite future in which you could find the energy to escape.

You shivered as footsteps swiped through the grass, crickets chirping at the intruder.

“Did I surprise you?” Shinsou asked, his voice deep from booze or smoke or both. Or, maybe he was just tired, you figured, as the harsh light of the fire sharpened the bags under his eyes into dark creases.

“Breeze,” you mumbled, goosebumps rising on your wrists, standing the fine hairs on end. Only a few licks of heat from the pit were touching your knees, leaving the rest of you cold in your threadbare sweatshirt as the fire shrank smaller and smaller.

Shinsou had a blanket in his arms, ratty and certainly stolen from the back of the living room couch. He blinked at you for a second before he asked, “Can I join you?”

His voice was deadpan. Between the two of you, there was no real vocal inflection to speak of. Still, you shrugged one shoulder and said, “Sure.”

You stiffened when, instead of choosing one of the many other patio chairs or foldable camping chairs forming a friendly circle around the fire, he joined you on your bench, tossing a bit of blanket over your knees. You hardly realized you were staring at him until he said, “You’re cold, right?”

“Oh, yeah, a little,” you said, tucking your knees up to your chin and curling the scrap of blanket around your arms.

The blanket was raggedy in your hands, pilled on the hem, but warm from being indoors with all the dancing bodies. Plus, clinging onto it, running your thumb over the uneven texture gave you something to focus on instead of Shinsou’s body so close to yours.

Your senses were tingling, raw at having someone nearby again. It was too soon—you still didn’t have anything to say, no defense for why you’d dropped off from the party without a word.

But, on the other hand, being alone wasn’t fixing you either. Parts of your brain were still coiled taut as compression springs, and while they weren’t getting any tighter, they weren’t quite loosening yet either. It was rest, not recovery.

Abruptly—was it abrupt, or were you that zoned out?—Shinsou touched the back of his hand to yours, nearly making you flinch as he furrowed his brows at you. “How long have you been out here?” he asked, shifting towards you and pushing more of the blanket into your lap.

“Oh, um—” maybe a half an hour, maybe more, “—not that long.”

For that flash of contact, his skin had been hot against yours, so you could only imagine how cold your hands had felt to him. Your icy drink was probably mostly to blame, but you were also suddenly aware of how your shoulders were hunched nearly to your ears, your arms clenched to your sides like your chest might warm them. You piled the blanket a little more over your knees and one shoulder, only the hand holding your drink poking out.

“Hard being on the fringes,” he mused as he took a sip from a can. Possibly seltzer, probably beer.

You mirrored, tasting your own drink. It was really mostly water by now, though you were sure it was still painting your tongue orange.

Shinsou’s situation wasn’t much different than yours. Everyone in that house was old classmates. Shinsou was too, but he’d come late. Not too late to be friends, but late enough that it mattered. You were even later—not a classmate, but a post-high school roommate. You’d both landed on the side of Kaminari’s friend group, but neither of you were the core of it. The heart of it. That, for reasons you couldn’t quite understand, was Bakugou.

For some reason, you and Shinsou had never talked about this before.

“Hard being in a group big enough for there to be a fringe.”

Because, of course, it wasn’t just the Bakusquad here today. The majority of the old 3-A was here, those who weren’t on duty or suffering with early morning duty tomorrow. Enough people to certainly cause a ruckus and maybe a noise complaint that even pro heroes wouldn’t get out of.

“Touché”

The two of you fell into silence, and you couldn’t help but wonder exactly what had drawn Shinsou from the party. Even if he didn’t feel he was the most popular guy in the room, you’d seen the way he had the ability to talk to everyone. You weren’t sure if it was a product of his quirk or what, but he was able to start a conversation with everyone he met. He didn’t seem shy or anxious in the least.

Then again, that was just what he presented. You knew from that what you put forth in public wasn’t necessarily in line with what you were feeling.

It was hard to be the introvert around a group like yours. Worse—it was noticeable. This wasn’t the first time you’d stumbled away from a party, mind half gone not on alcohol or weed but on the sudden assault of attention, loud voices, and talk of hero work. Being one of the only non-heroes in the room was exhausting, and maybe that’s why you’d had to escape. Or maybe there never was a reason, good or otherwise, and you were just here because of your stupid self.

“Clear night,” Shinsou commented, “Don’t get to see much of the stars in the city.”

You looked up, a bright spot in the center of your vision from where you’d been staring into the fire. Almost everyone in your group lived in the city, not too far from each other, depending on your definition of the word. But those with quirks better suited outside the city, like Tsuyu and Koda, had moved out of town post graduation, granting the rest of you access to a night in the suburbs like this.

The truth was, you hardly looked up at the sky in the city. Tourists were always looking up, eyes glinting off the skyscrapers and billboards. But natives were always looking down, too aware of the fact that other natives didn’t always clean up after their dogs and, with so little grass, the sidewalk often needed a close eye kept to it.

But here, it was pretty. Not the smog-stained brown you were used to, but deep blue and twinkling with infinite pinpricks.

“Mm,” you hummed, taking another sip of your watery drink. “You’re right.”

“There’s Cassiopeia,” he said, pointing just over the tree line.

You followed his finger, unsure quite of what you were looking at. The stars hardly looked like clusters to you, especially on a night like this where you could see so many. It was more a broad network of them, either all connected or all individual. All the stars or just a star.

“You know constellations?” you asked, ears latching onto something that finally wasn’t hero related. Truth be told, you probably knew less about stars than you did about hero work but it was less alienating. You could lean into it.

“Some,” he offered. “Cassiopeia is a basic one.”

“Where is it?”

Shinsou glanced at you, leaning in closer so that his finger could match your gaze. You shoulders knocked and you could feel his wild hair against your own. His finger traced down and up, down and up in a cockeyed W. “Cassiopeia, mother of Andromeda.”

“She’s a woman?”

It was any wonder that ancient people had looked into the night sky and seen things like rams and bulls, creating a whole woman out of a few diagonal lines. Still, you listened to Shinsou, his low voice rumbling into your tired bones as he began.

“A beautiful woman,” he answered. “In Greek myth, she thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world. Her boastfulness made Poseidon angry, so he created a sea monster that Andromeda was sacrificed to. Andromeda was left to await her fate when Perseus, who had just killed Medusa, used Medusa’s head to turn the sea monster to stone. After saving Andromeda, the two of them got married, and when they died, they both became constellations alongside Cassiopeia.”

Shinsou’s voice was husky and even as he told the story. The cadences were easy drops, landing you softly before he started up again with his next thought. It was a voice you could be rocked by, a voice you could be held by.

“Do you know where they are too?”

“Just below,” Shinsou said. “Probably come up just in time for the sun to make them invisible.”

“That’s too bad,” you said, curling deeper into the blanket, curling so that on shoulder leaned more onto the bench than the other. You head was almost resting on Shinsou’s shoulder and you could feel his warmth radiating in the cold night. “How do you know all this?”

Shinsou was quiet for a second and your nerves spiked again. You hadn’t even felt them relax, but suddenly your anxiety was scratching again, wondering if you’d misspoke. Or maybe you’d whispered it and he just hadn’t heard you? Before you could decide whether to say it again or apologize, though, he let out a sigh that jostled the blanket.

“Jack of all trades, master of none,” he said by way of explanation.

You cocked your head. Perhaps it was just a good hobby for an insomniac, but you were unsure about the evasiveness. “Did you have to learn a lot for general studies? Or to get in to U.A.?”

“…Yeah.”

You could only imagine. U.A. was an incredibly competitive school for heroes, but that was a specialized course. For general studies you didn’t need to have the physical prowess or the other particular skills that came with heroics, but you had to be an ace in school. It was no small feat to get into general studies, especially while you were trying to pursue something else. You were satisfied with that, ready to let it go and return to the near silence of the crickets and the fire popping, when Shinsou suddenly continued.

“When it looked like my plans to become a hero wouldn’t pan out,” Shinsou began, his words slow, tired, “my parents encouraged me into any and all other interests. None stuck.”

“Oh,” you said quietly, the personal admission taking you aback.

For all the times you’d seen Shinsou talk effortlessly with people in a room, you weren’t sure how personal or vulnerable you’d ever seen him. He seemed comfortable enough probing other people, but this was new. It made the space between you suddenly seem private—so different from the party you’d escaped from. You could still hear the ambient noises of a couple dozen people in there having a good time, but it was suddenly a world away.

“I’m sorry, Shinsou,” you said, brows furrowing as you glanced his eyes, still gazing up at the stars. His parents had probably thought they were being supportive, but it wasn’t the support he’d desired.

“It is what it is,” he said. “It worked out in the end.”

There was the smallest smile on his face at that, barely betraying what must have been true joy at having a dream slip through his fingers only to fly back to him. And he’d earned every bit of it, even if he wanted to keep it to himself.

“So now,” you began softly, “you just have a lot of little things that you can offer people. The little things you could have been. That’s not so bad, right?”

“No, it’s not so bad,” he agreed. “I always liked that story.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Japanese astronomy varies so much from region to region and is usually about more functional things. Harvest, seasons. But these other myths about people with no chance of being heroes becoming ones anyway…”

He trailed off, but the sentiment was there. Trapped in the things he’d done to try and leave heroism behind were little vestiges. The inescapable fact that he was meant to be a hero and would be one anyway, even if the world told him he was a villain, doomed for failure.

The stories had been true.

“Are you feeling better now?” he asked, surprising you.

“Feeling better?”

“You’d been out here for over an hour,” Shinsou stated. “Your eyes were glassy and distant and you were freezing and you didn’t seem to notice.”

“Oh,” you intoned. You hadn’t realized it had been that long. You were sure it had only been half that time.

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” he said. “I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

“No, I’m fine,” you said truthfully. “I’m fine now.”

The anxiety from earlier that had been buzzing through you had kept you awake, all while thoroughly draining you. You’d hardly realized just how much until now, with your body not just feeling settled but heavy. The stress had run straight through you, and now you bore the fatigue.

Shinsou glanced down at you out of the corner of his eye. His brows raised and it lifted his whole face, making the dark circles under his eyes just a little less stark. “You look exhausted.”

“You always look exhausted,” you retorted, your first little grin curving along your lips.

In his surprise, Shinsou smiled too. “I know that. Here.”

Shinsou took your forgotten drink from your hand and set it down, then patted his shoulder.

“You should rest for a little while.”

Your eyes met his, searching for anything that looked like obligation or impatience. But there was none. Just a surprising amount of openness and a pretty shade of purple.

“Do you have more myths?”

Shinsou smiled and, once again, his gaze went up to the stars. As he started another tale, you snuggled onto his shoulder, the rest of your body drawing closer to his as well. He didn’t wait long to begin speaking, talking in more detail than he had before. There was no reason to be concerned that he might be boring you, or that you didn’t want to hear it. Really, these stories, these stars that had brought him even the tiniest speck of light were just what you needed too.

You weren’t sure when you fell asleep, and you weren’t sure when you woke up. But when you blinked your eyes awake, the first thing you noticed was that Cassiopeia hadn’t moved far. The second was the feeling of Shinsou’s head tilted against yours, his breath like gentle waves under you.

You shifted, signaling that you were awake, and Shinsou did too, his head lifting from yours. At some point, his arm had wrapped around you, encasing you in his warmth. He didn’t move it, not yet, as your body creaked and you forced yourself to sit up.

“How long?” you murmured, voice barely raspy with sleep.

“Not that long,” Shinsou answered, echoing your reply from earlier.

He didn’t look at his phone or a watch, and hadn’t since he’d come out, so you wondered if he had any clue. Or if it simply hadn’t felt long. Somehow, the idea that his time spent with you hadn’t felt long was a comfort, a relief.

“How are you feeling?”

You checked in, feeling that grogginess that always came in the wake of an intense mental episode. Your brain struggling to catch up and survey the backlash from its earlier antics. That would go away. It always did. “I’m good.”

Shinsou continued to look at you, switching between each eye, double checking your expression for any lie. But he must not have found any, for he leaned back into the bench and relaxed, that tiny ghost of a smile back on his face.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said, gazing out again. “You out here alone before? It had been…well, we were…I wanted to check on you.”

For the first time, Shinsou looked almost a little shy, and you couldn’t help but smile, touched. You put a hand on the shoulder that had just taken your weight and brought his gaze back to you. “Thank you.”

There actually was one thing you knew about stars. You’d heard that every light year a star was away from you was a year into the past you were seeing its light. Looking at the stars was looking millions of years into the past. Despite the fact that these selfsame stars connected you to humans around the world today and those of old, that filter of distance and time rendered them ancient, if not already gone.

But as you looked at Shinsou, their soft, silvery starlight illuminating one side while the last dancing coals of the fire glowed on the other, you were sure that this was the opposite. This wasn’t old or past or known to anyone but the two of you. This wasn’t the stars or even the stories inspired by them.

This was just beginning.

[giorno-plays-piano]

hey!! i love your writing sm💕 idk if you’re still taking requests or if you’re comfortable w a like platonic or father figure yandere. But how about yan! Steve Rogers where he kidnaps a teenage girl to be his daughter then shields her from the world to “protect” her kinda like rapunzel. if you don’t want to that’s no problem at all tho💕

Hi, sweetie! This is a very peculiar request, and I really, really like it! I guess I’ve made Steve a little softer than I expected, but here he is. Hope you’re going to enjoy this!

The one he cares about

Pairing: adoptive dad!Steve & Reader, Peter Parker x Reader (if you squint)

Warnings: yandere, obsession (non-romantic!), stalking, kidnapping, death of minor characters (but nothing too scary).

Words: 1870.

P.S. Just to clarify this is NOT an incest story, Steve does not harbor any romantic feelings for the reader, he loves her like a parent does.

__________________

Pacing up and down nervously like a caged tiger, Steve threw a glance at the clock on the kitchen wall, ready to take out his cellphone and give you a call. It was just 10 pm, but he felt something wasn't going quite right. Was everything ok at that party? Were you enjoying yourself? Did you finally confess to that silly guy Steve didn't like at all? What if he had already got you, Steve's precious little daughter, into bed?

Breathing in deeply, the man tried calming himself down. You were an adult. At one point you would start dating people, and it was perfectly alright, Sam reminded him the other day. You weren't some princess locked in a tower with Steve guarding you like an angry dragon. You had the right to love and be loved, create your own family, for God's sake. When he thought of you leaving him Steve was ready to break that kitchen wall.

No, no, no, it was alright. You loved him with all your heart, and no stupid guy could take it away from Steve. He was your father. Adoptive father, of course, but he did everything he could to make you trust and love him as much as you true family. You were calling him dad, after all. And even if you eventually married someone, Steve would always stay close to help and support you - and your kids, if you ever decide to have any. At the thought of him kissing the cheeks of his cute little grandchildren Steve had finally relaxed.

Oh, was it the sound of the front door opening? As much as he wanted to rush to meet you, the man quickly put on his apron he ironed this morning and turned to the heated stove to put a meat pie in it. Alright, alright, you were already home, it was perfect.

But why so early? Steve was really generous this time and gave you till 1 am - of course, if you took a taxi, not go walking the streets in the night. Did something go wrong? Did the guy reject you? Did he take advantage of you? Did he... do something he shouldn't have?

Steve felt his blood boiling. In a second he was ready to storm out of the kitchen to beat the shit out of that bastard who was stupid enough to hurt his child.

"Hi dad! I'm home!"

As you walked in, carrying your beaded clutch in your arms and yawning tiredly, Steve put a smile on his face momentarily, assessing whether you were hurt within a couple of seconds. No, apparently, you were alright: you moved just like before; your hair wasn't ruffled, and your makeup wasn't smeared eather. He had overreacted again.

"Welcome back, sweet pea." Steve moved closer to you, giving you a tight hug and a kiss on the forehead as you giggled softly, throwing your arms around his broad back. "How did it go?"

As your face turned gloomy for a fleeting second, he knew his sixth sense wasn't lying to him: something didn't go well.

"Nah." You brushed it off as you sat on the chair, carelessly leaving your clutch on the table and stretching your legs with a loud sigh.

"What is it, sweetie?"

Furrowing his brows, Steve sat across from you, his hands folded as he stared at you with worry. Shit, did this guy try doing something funny? Did he offend you? Oh, Steve was going to have a nice talk with him, a moron who thought he could do this to his little girl and it would never come back at him. Should he call Natasha? Maybe Bucky? He knew they were still in town. No, no, he would take this matter in his own hands and go have a nice talk with that stupid ungrateful ba-

"It's alright, I swear." You muttered and forced a smile, drawing his attention back to you. "He just... well, just didn't return my feelings."

"Did he reject you?"

For a second Steve felt both relieved and ready to go murder that kid in a cold blood. Rejected you? The prettiest and smartest girl in the town with a heart of gold? Who did that little shit think he was, rejecting Steve's precious daughter?

But it was better than him forcing you to do something you didn't want. At least that asshole didn't do anything inappropriate to you, probably too scared to face your angry dad who could crack his skull with one hand.

"Not like reject in the full sense of the word, but... um, I feel like he was a little scared of me." Your smile turned bitter, and you leaned onto Steve, pressing your forehead into his chest as you exhaled loudly.

Well, it wouldn't be the first time it happened. Everybody around knew you were the daughter of retired Captain America, and people were treating you with such caution as if you were some time bomb, clearly unwilling to make the world's first Avenger angry. Partly, it was a good thing since no one tried messing with you. However, you were also left pretty much alone, ignored by the majority for the sake of their own well-being. Although you had found several friends, dating someone was a completely different thing: guys were running away from before you even spoke to them.

"I'm so sorry." The man said quietly, rubbing your back and gently caressing your head with his other hand. "This is my fault."

You sighed, lifting your head and looking at Steve so tenderly he suddenly felt like he was the happiest man in the world. What, weren't you upset?

"Come on, dad." His heart sped up when you called him that, and he was ready to lift you up in the air, kissing his little girl's nose. "I thought he's different, but he's just a chicken like all other guys. I'll get over him soon."

"Hard to live up to our standards, I guess." Steve smiled and pinched your nose a little, making you laugh again. "But you need to know I am really sorry, sweat pea. I swear I wouldn't stand in your way if you decided he was the right guy for you."

Actually, Steve pretty much would, but you wouldn't know about it. Happiness of his only child was the only thing that mattered to him now: what was the point of being a parent if you couldn't make your kid happy?

"It's okay, really, dad. I wouldn't change the things as they are now. When I think what could happen if you didn't see me on the street that night... uh-huh." You didn't finish the sentence, not that you needed to.

If Steve didn't find you that night desperately searching for food on the streets of New York, you'd probably be dead now.

You were born to a good family, and you spent the first 11 years of your life in a nice place, having loving parents, the roof above your head and food on the table. You were just one more happy kid among thousands of others, neither better nor worse than all of them. It all changed when your parents were killed by two robbers who had broken into your house, and soon you ended up in an orphanage - you still had nightmares about this place. You spent a year there before you escaped, choosing the streets over an orphanage. Silly you, thinking it would be better.

When Steve found you, you were 13. Dirty, always hungry, acting like a little wild animal, you were no more pitiful than any other homeless child, ignored by the majority of people, but Steve saw you. He took you with him - forcefully, of course, because you fought him like a little angry cat, frightened to the core he was going to take advantage of you like all those people pretending to help you. But he didn’t. He was the one who had truly cared.

It took him months to get you accustomed to living in a house again with someone close to you. Steve spent even more time trying to make you trust him, make you believe he was your friend, somebody you could rely on, trust, see as a parental figure. You couldn’t even name all those people he hired to help you: countless psychologists and psychiatrists; doctors and nurses of all kinds; visiting teachers and tutors. Despite liking to live alone, Steve brought so many strangers to his house it felt like living in a royal palace with tons of court attendants. All of this was for you, the only person he cared about, his little child.

When you were 15, you started calling him dad, and that was the day neither Steve nor you would ever forget: he scooped you up and kept swinging you around till your head was spinning while he laughed and shouted how much he loved you, the best daughter he could ever had. 

You never knew the extent to which Steve cared about you, following you secretly when you finally agreed to leave the house - he needed to know you were safe and sound. Of course, he was always there when he supposed someone wasn’t treating you right, and he did everything he could to keep his only child happy. Unfortunately, you were lonely until Steve found a couple of good friends for you, but it was alright. You were perfectly okay now.

“I love you too, sweet pea.” He smiled, caressing your head gently. “But you know what? Don’t worry about that guy. I actually have someone who I want you to meet, and he’s a really sweet kid.”

“Whoa, what? What kid?”

“Well, you know. Kid from work.”

“Dad, what work? What kid?” You rolled your eyes at him, giggling. “How old is he, at least?”

“A little older than you, but he’s alright. He’s been wanting to meet you for some time.” But before Steve wasn’t sure kid was the right guy for you, considering that he was still very much an Avenger and was involved in all kinds of dangerous situations. 

“Dad, what kid? Are you talking about your superhero colleagues or something?” 

“... yeah? I promise, you’ll like him. Peter’s a good kid.”

“Peter? Peter goddamn Parker?!” You exclaimed loudly, realizing he was talking about Spider-Man. “Are you joking?!”

“What did I tell you about swearing, sweetheart?” Furrowing his brows, Steve shook his head in disapproval, but laughed in the very next second, watching your guilty expression. “Alright, alright. I’m not joking. If you’d like to meet him, I’ll ask him to come tomorrow for dinner, ok?”

“Yes, please!”

As he took the pie out of the oven with you waiting at the dinner table, Steve thought about giving the kid a big lecture about what he was and wasn’t supposed to do to you, but he was more or less sure Peter knew what was right and wrong. Steve could spot that familiar glint in kid’s eyes when he was looking at your photo that Steve had been showing him proudly. 

It would turn out alright. Your father was ready to do anything it takes to make you happy.

___________________________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @iheartsebastianstan @lovelydarkdaydream @sarge-barnes-sir

[storiesforallfandoms]

soulmates ~ paul lahote;twilight

word count: 1827

request?: yes!

“i screamed in joy when i saw that you write for twilight as well! can i request a Paul Lahote imagine with a witch!reader? the pack are patrolling & comes across the reader who was using her magic, then Paul imprints on her while on his wolf form & he just starts rubbing his head on her? it’ll be great if the reader has a feeling that Paul is her soulmate/imprint. they meet for 2nd time after that but this time Paul is human. just a bunch of fluff!”

description: in which she meets her soulmate in his animal form and tries to find him to know who he really is

pairing: paul lahote x witch!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist

There wasn’t much to know about her soulmate after their first meeting. He had approached her with his pack while she was trying to cast a protective spell on Forks. The pack were angry when they first saw her, baring their teeth and ready to attack. She was preparing a get away when one of the wolves stepped forward. His eyes were wide, as if he were in a trance. He had approached her, slowly and cautiously, before rubbing against her.

She wasn’t sure how she figured out that he was her soulmate. She just knew. There was a feeling she had the moment he began to rub his giant head against her, like all she wanted to do was to protect him and keep him safe. There was an unspoken agreement throughout the pack that they would not hurt (Y/N), and left instead, running as fast as possible in the other direction. Her wolf stopped long enough to look at her, longingly, over his shoulder, before he followed the pack.

Under any normal circumstances, (Y/N) would’ve thought she’d never meet her soulmate face to face, unless it was a chance encounter. But, lucky for her, both of them were anything but normal.

(Y/N) found a hair from the wolf left on her clothes, which was all she needed to cast a tracking spell. She waited until night fall as to not draw any attention to herself, and night made her spells more dramatic sometimes. She sat on the floor of her small house and closed her eyes. She focused solely on her memory of the wolf; his dark silver fur, his light brown eyes, his towering form as he approached her.

In her hand, (Y/N) held the hair that the wolf had left on her. She whispered the spell, her voice soft but focused. She began to see a vision of a house, a small house. She could see young men approaching the house, and a woman with a horribly scarred face; she was young but she was like a mother to them. She could see that the house was surrounded by forest, and there was no clear number or address of where it was.

“Come on,” she whispered to herself before continuing her spell.

Before she knew it, she was seeing the exact path from the small house to her own. She frantically grabbed for the pen and paper she had left for herself and quickly drew the route as it played over for her once more. Once she had it drawn, her eyes snapped open and she gasped. As she tried to regain her breath, she looked down to see a perfect map from her house to the place where her soulmate was. She looked at it for a long time before smiling.

In the morning, she would embark on her adventure, and she would find her soulmate.

~~~~~~

(Y/N) slowed the car to a stop in front of the house from her vision. There was barley any sign of life besides smoke coming from a chimney. There were no cars, none of the young men from her vision, nor the mother like woman. It seemed empty and she wondered if she was too late.

She got out of the car and approached the house. Her mind was screaming at her to turn around and to leave again. There was a chance she was at the wrong place, or her wolf soulmate and his pack had already up and left before she found them, but she had to know for sure. She couldn’t leave without getting some form of answers.

She knocked on the door and waited for any movement inside. (Y/N) mentally cursed at herself for not bringing the hair in case she had to do another spell. It would’ve been easier to find him from there and not to have to go all the way back to her house for a stupid hair. Luckily for her, however, the scarred woman answered the door.

(Y/N) was shocked and realized she hadn’t prepared anything to say. How did she explain why she was there without sounding insane? Lamely, she managed to force herself to say, “Hi.”

The woman looked her up and down a moment before saying, “So, you’re the one Paul won’t shut up about.”

(Y/N) was taken back by the comment. So his name was Paul, and he hadn’t stopped talking about her since their brief meeting? “I think so, I haven’t exactly gotten to know much about him yet.”

The woman smiled warmly at her. “Come in.”

She poured (Y/N) a cup of tea and introduced herself as Emily, the fiancee of the pack leader, Sam.

“The silver wolf that rubbed against you was Paul,” she explained as the two women sat at the table in the kitchen. “He’s the third in command of the pack, and the most impulsive one. The boys were shocked that he didn’t go right for an attack when he saw you.”

“That’s comforting,” (Y/N) said with an awkward chuckle.

“They didn’t know what you are,” Emily explained. “You’re a new entity to them, and you were in their territory. They were willing to protect the territory from whatever you were.”

(Y/N) nodded. That did make sense, but now she felt uncomfortable sitting in the house of a pack of werewolves if it meant they might attack her.

The sound of male voices approaching the house drew the attention of both women. (Y/N) was tempted to flee before they arrived, but she wanted to meet Paul face to face. She wanted to see the human face of her soulmate, to learn more about him, and she didn’t want to fear his friends.

The men came into the house, roughhousing and laughing. They all seemed to stop simultaneously when they noticed that Emily wasn’t alone, and they came to recognize who was sat with her.

“Gentlemen,” Emily started, smiling softly at them. “This is (Y/N).”

One of the men stepped away from the group to approach her. (Y/N) rose from her seat, looking deep into his brown eyes. It didn’t take long to clue in that this was her wolf, her soulmate. She could tell just by looking at him.

“You found us,” he finally said. His voice sounded like music to her ears.

She chuckled. “I did. You left a helpful hint behind on my clothes.”

(Y/N) held out the silver fur that Paul had left on her. He looked at her in amazement, wanting to reach out to touch her to prove that she was real. He hesitated. This was the first time they were truly meeting, he didn’t want to scare her away so quickly.

“How did you find us?” one of the pack members asked.

“And what are you?” another added. (Y/N) could tell by the authority in his voice that he was the alpha, Sam.

“I’m a witch,” she responded. “As far as I know I’m the only of my kind here in Forks.”

The pack looked skeptical, except for Paul, who was still entranced by (Y/N).

“I’m not here to hurt anyone,” she continued. “When you caught me in the field, I was casting a protective spell over Forks. I’ve heard of the animal attacks, the ones that aren’t exactly animals. I was hoping to cast a spell to protect the people of Forks and to cast whatever, or whoever, is behind those attacks out. You interrupted me when you arrived.”

“Forks doesn’t need your witchy voodoo, they have us,” one of the younger members of the pack spoke.

“Embry,” Sam said, sternly. He turned to face Paul and the two of them shared a look. “I think you two should talk in private.”

Paul turned to (Y/N) to ask, “Want to go for a walk?”

~~~~~~

The two walked in silence through the woods for some time. Neither really knew what to say. What do you say when you’re meeting your soulmate for the first time?

“I feel like we both have a lot of questions,” Paul finally said, breaking the tense silence.

“Not many I can think of, but I’m sure more will come up,” (Y/N) agreed. “What do you want to know?”

“Why did you come find me?”

“Witches believe that everyone has a soulmate, but when you’re a witch or a wizard, you actually know when you’ve met your soulmate. There’s this feeling of electricity when you touch for the first time, a desire to spend all your time with that person, to know as much about them as you possibly could. I was hoping to be able to actually talk to you, but you and the pack ran off so quickly. I was left to my own devices to find you.”

“A spell, I’d assume.”

(Y/N) nodded. “There’s a spell to track people, but only to where they normally reside. There’s no way to track them to their exact location, which is why I took a chance coming here to see if I could find you.”

Paul moved in close enough that his arm brushed (Y/N). She felt another spark of electricity, confirming her suspicions that he was supposed to be her soulmate.

“About the pack,” she continued. “Emily mentioned that I was in your territory, and usually the pack attacks non-humans in their territory. Why didn’t you guys attack me? Why were you so reserved when you approached me?”

“Shifters also have something like soulmates, except we call it Imprinting,” Paul explained. “It came happen whenever, to whoever. There’s never a warning, a premonition. You see the person and you just...you know. You’re connected to them for life, whether it’s romantically, platonically, in a sort of brotherly way. However the person they’ve imprinted on wants them to be. Once someone in the pack has imprinted, there’s this rule that the rest of the pack leaves that person alone. Even if you were something dangerous, the pack would have to leave you be since I imprinted on you.”

(Y/N) nodded along to Paul’s explanation. “Anything the imprintee wants to be, huh?”

Paul stopped and turned to look at her, causing (Y/N) to stop walking as well. “Anything, which leads to the question of us. What do you want us to be?”

(Y/N) didn’t take much time to think it over. Instead, she took Paul’s face in her hands and pulled him to her, pressing her lips against his. It caused that stereotypical feeling of fireworks that is always mentioned in romance novels, except (Y/N) new that was the electricity of their soulmate bond.

Paul held her to him as he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers.

“Is that a good enough answer?” she asked, a cheeky grin on her face.

Paul smiled back. “That was the answer I was hoping for.”

[yandere-daydreams]

Hello. I love your blog and saw that requests were open. Can I ask for a Yandere Kuroo with an s/o whose deaf (no offense for deaf people tho) I just think it would be interesting on what goes on Kuroo's head if he ever got a darling who is like that. Thank you

As a rule, I try to make my Yanderes think as little as possible, but I’ll consider making an exception for Kuroo… albeit a small one. He’d just be so possessive, and he seems like the type that wouldn’t even try to justify his actions. Call it a character flaw, but I’d like to think it adds to his charm.

Title: Vulnerability.

TW: Themes of Ablism, Abuse of a Disability, Implied Violence, Mentions of Blood, Unhealthy Relationships, Non-Consensual Touching, and Implied Kidnapping.

~

If Kuroo was a little nicer, he’d probably be a better boyfriend.

Is he your boyfriend? Was he ever your boyfriend? That part was vague in the most amicable parts of your relationship, and it probably didn’t help that he’d never made the effort to straighten out the borders between platonic and romantic, the line he’d crossed from either side so many times, he’d lost count by the time you started holding it against him. He liked to think that deep down, you returned his feelings, even if he knew better than to think that the colors weren’t a little tinted, from your end, that the music wasn’t a little slower, that the game wasn’t a little duller. You had to have some level of fondness for him, in that closed-off, guarded little heart of yours, but he knew it couldn’t have been the same affection he held for you. The same love he held for you, even if you seemed to doubt his sincerity whenever he voiced his endearment.

Oh, fuck it. Who was he kidding?

He wasn’t even sure if he really loved you, anymore.

It probably didn’t help that your companionship (Companionship? Partnership? Association?) got off to such a rocky start. He’d like to think he was observant, especially when he was on the court, but you were just so new, just so unremarkable, and it wasn’t like you could expect him to memorize the face of every person who came in and out of the gym he visited daily. No, he had to wait for a wayward spike to draw your attention, one that was just a little too strong, a little too fast, and managed to nail you in the side of your head as you passed by. Volleyball was a hobby, at that point. He was passionate, but he couldn’t have gone up against Hinata or Bokuto, not well and certainly not elegantly. He wasn’t a professional, and yet, that didn’t stop your nose from making such an ugly cracking sound as the ball made contact, your knees buckling as you divided your attention between scrambling to grab the things you’d dropped and covering your face, neither to much avail. He’d called out, told you to get out of the way as soon as he realized his aim wasn’t quite what it used to be, but at the time, he’d just thought you were a little slow to react. Maybe a little slow in general, considering how long it took you to realize he’d come to help you.

That was the first time Kuroo saw you bleed, the first time he’d had the smallest degree of power over you. That’s not what he called it back then, but he’d be lying if he said it hadn’t been a contributing factor, when he decided to stick around just long enough to get your number.

It made sense to get close to you, didn’t it? It wasn’t like he had a reason not to. You were studying at the same university as him, following similar tracks, and he’d already seen you fighting not to cry as you clung to a red-stained gym towel, so it wasn’t like you’d be able to scare him away. He liked you, liked seeking you out, liked touching your shoulder or letting his hand brush against your neck or slotting himself against your back to feel you go tense and watch you twist around so frantically, only to realize it was just your friend, just Kuroo, just a fun, harmless inside-joke the two of you shared and only he seemed to enjoy. 

It took him longer than he’d like to admit to notice the signs - the hearing-aids, the way you squinted at his lips whenever he spoke too quickly, how you never seemed to answer your phone if you weren’t expecting a call. Partially deafness, you’d said, mostly in your right ear. Due to a childhood accident that’d broken something sensitive and irreparable. You’d said it calmly, casually, as if you didn’t really care. As if you didn’t mind having less of something than he did. As if you didn’t know you were falling short in an area he didn’t have to try to excel in.

As if it didn’t make you vulnerable.

As if it didn’t make you so, so defenseless, compared to him.

Just to be clear, that wasn’t the only thing he liked about you. No, the little hints were nice, they were beautiful, but he liked your smile, too, and your laugh, and he adored how trusting you were, your optimism bordering on naivety, at times. He liked that, even when he was open about his intentions, you were so quick to shrug off his stranger tendencies, to roll your eyes when he rested his hand a little too far up your thigh while studying, to sigh and shake your head as he wrapped an arm around your waist while introducing you to some of his friends, and to give up so easily after he voiced his reluctancy to let you go. You wanted to see the best in him. You wanted to see the best in everyone, even if you acted like you were just too important to care about his jeers and teases. He liked the way your heart speed up when he touched you, how you didn’t even seem to notice his closeness alone was enough to put you on edge. He liked a lot of things about you.

Somewhere down the line, though, he must’ve stepped a little too close to the cliffside. He must’ve finally crossed the one barrier you wouldn’t let him disregard, or left enough cracks in your protective shell for reality to start seeping in, or maybe, you just realized that friends shouldn’t enjoy scaring each other nearly as much as he enjoys scaring you, even if it hardly took a nudge to make you jolt and freeze-up. It was a natural progression, one Kuroo should’ve seen coming. If he kept pushing and pushing and pushing, he was bound to meet resistance. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t surprised it didn’t come sooner, in hindsight.

He can still remember the first time you stood him up. The first time you left him standing outside of the campus library for hours before finally showing your face, just to say that you suddenly weren’t sure if spending so much time around him was a good idea. You were friendly if he approached you, but there was always the underlying tension, that wall of rigid posture and averted eyes that you always would’ve used when he was around, if you know what was good for you. No more study dates, no more early morning chats, no vulnerability, not once you realized why he was so eager to keep you backed into a corner. Not once you realized he might not be as harmless as you’d let yourself believe he was.  

If he was nicer, he would’ve given you space. If he was nicer, he would’ve let it go. If he had any human decency at all, he would’ve walked away and never spoken to you again. That would’ve been the right thing to do. That would’ve been the good thing to do.

It’s a shame he isn’t a very good boyfriend, after all.

It’s clear to him that he should’ve been more proactive from the start. He let you get comfortable, let you adjust to his behavior, and he’s paying the price for it in time, in minutes of his life that felt like they were drawing into days, as they tick by. You’ve been crying since you woke up, sobbing your eyes out behind a soaked, sturdy blindfold, your hearing-aids torn out and your wrists secured behind your back, your ankles given the same treatment twice-over, just in case you found a way to run. There’s a more permant solution than the dirty warehouse you’re lying on the floor of - an apartment on the other side of town, one Kozume had been nice enough to sign onto with only a handful of questions and odd looks - but Kuroo needs to scare you before he can take you home. He needs to do something that won’t be fun for either of you, even if you’ll be the only one screaming.

Despite his better judgment, he’s resigned himself to waiting until you calm down, or until you stop crying, at least. Later on, you might see that for the kindness it is, the mercy he’s choosing to give you, but he doubts you’ll be that rational, right now.

‘Partially’ just won’t do the trick, anymore. You’re still too ungrateful. You’re still too full of yourself. You think you don’t need him, you think you’re better than him, and he’s going to prove you wrong.

He can only hope you won’t hate him when you’re completely his.

[soundsgoodfeelslikeshit]

Consequences

Summary: Y/N faces the consequences of giving too much of herself to people who weren’t worth it. When she doesn’t show up to hang out with the other pogues, JJ gets worried. 

TW: abusive relationship, mentions of anxiety

reader x ex!rafe , reader x platonic!pogues , reader x jj 

................................................................................................................................

Everything had been fine with Rafe in the beginning. He was sweet and nice to you, but it was almost as if a switch flipped. He became abusive, manipulative, and he would constantly try and overpower you. He wanted you to lose weight so you did, you slowly started eating less until you dropped the weight he had been telling you was unnecessary. He didn’t want you hanging out with anymore people, only him. You stopped hanging out with the pogues because that’s what he wanted. He told you that he was never pleased enough, so you lost your virginity to him, when you didn’t want to, and tried to please him more even when you weren’t in the mood. Nothing had ever been non-consensual, but it still did a toll on your mind. He convinced you this was love, and you were almost positive you loved him. You were exhausted though. You couldn’t do anything you loved before, and you couldn’t see the people you loved. You just felt like a shell, hollowed out and empty.

“Rafe please I can’t keep doing this!” you screamed through tears. 

“Y/N if you weren’t such a whore we wouldn’t be in the situation we’re in now,” he yelled back, walking closer to you. 

“Rafe they’re my friends. Please. J was just worried. He texts me all the time to make sure I’m okay.” 

“Friends don’t look at friends that way.” he mumbled through gritted teeth, clenching his fists. 

“Listen to yourself! JJ has been my best friend since I was 5. Let that process and then go ahead and continue being a jealous psycho.” you yelled throwing your hands up. 

He didn’t like that very much, you could tell by the way his hand collided with your face. 

Your eyes watered but you refused to let them fall as he hit you three more times. 

“Rafe please stop.” 

“Y/N I- I didn’t mean to.” 

“You say that every time. I- Look we’re done. It’s over.” You said shaking your head and wiping your tears. 

You quickly left his room and rushed out the front door to your car. Once safely inside you punched the wheel a few times and then drove off. 

................................................................................................................................

You heard your phone keep going off but shut it off. You didn’t want to hang out with the pogues and have them asking too many questions. You couldn’t stand the looks of sympathy from them, you weren’t some charity case you could take care of yourself. 

A knock at your door interrupted your thoughts. With a quiet “come in” your door opened revealing your mother. She sat on the bed next to you and looked at your tear stained face. “Sweetie what happened?”

“Rafe hit me again.” You mumbled as she played with your hair.

“Honey that just means he loves you.”

“Mom no it doesn’t! I’m tired of this! I’m tired of feeling this way and I’m tired of you never understanding that that’s not love. You always support toxic men and try and push unhealthy situations on your daughter! I’m not falling for it mom. I can’t keep doing it. I won’t be you.” You yelled.

“Don’t talk to me that way, I’m your mother.”

“Please just get out.”

You sighed and ran you fingers through your hair as she got up and left. Looking around you found your bag and began to throw some clothes and a few essential items you needed. You thought for a second and then decided it was time for the pogues to know where you’ve been. Grabbing your keys and slinging your bag over your shoulder, you grabbed your phone and turned it back on. You ran towards your car and headed towards the Chateau.

................................................................................................................................

You’d arrived at the Chateau probably 20 minutes ago at this point, but you couldn’t pull yourself together. Your anxiety was at a high, you couldn’t stop crying, and you were scared they might reject you. You were supposed to go out on the marsh with them today after all.

Finally deciding to go in you pushed yourself out of the car and towards the Chateau. You knocked with shaking hands and heard the noise diminish inside. Debating on running away instead you began to turn, but the door opening stopped you. “Y/N/N, what happened to you?” John B asked sadly.

He quickly pulled you into his arms as you shook your head. “Rafe.” He brought you inside where you felt your friends gazes fall on you. They quickly joined the hug knowing that was probably what you needed the most.

“Look at you, you’ve dropped two sizes.” Kie stayed worriedly. “Are you eating?”

You sighed and sat in the pullout couch, watching as everyone took seats in various places around you. Then you brought your eyes to the floor. “I guess I have some explains to do huh?”

You drew a shaky breath before beginning. “As you all know, I was with Rafe. At first everything was fine, I would say perfect if I didn’t know everything.” You said with a sarcastic laugh. “Then something changed in him. He was overbearing, manipulative, and ultimately became abusive. I was convinced I loved him, I know now that I didn’t I just felt like that was love. He wanted me to lose weight because he thought I had “unnecessary weight” on me, and I agreed so I lost the weight, and slowly my appetite went with it. He convinced me that I only needed to see him, he didn’t let me see you guys. He didn’t want me to. I was also told I wasn’t pleasing him enough so I tried my hardest to please him as much as I could. It was never non-consensual, but there was times where I just did it because he wanted to. I tried to reach out for help from my mom, but she told me that’s just how he showed love. I believed her until today.”

You felt the tears in your face before your body began to shake. It was so much worse coming out of your mouth. Drawing your knees up to your body, you slowly rocked yourself back and forth. “I’m so-sorry I should’ve been a better friend. I should’ve listened.”

“This was not your fault. None of it was. None.” Kie said as she wrapped her arms around you and ran her fingers through your hair soothingly.

“It’s okay for you to feel the way you do right now, but you can’t blame yourself. We don’t blame you, and you were still messaging us we just couldn’t see you. We aren’t mad. We love you.” Pope said as he rubbed up and down your legs trying to soothe you.

At some point you zoned out and Kie was replaced with JJ. He sat and whispered sweet nothings into your ear and reassurances. John B was cooking while Kie and Pope cleaned up and were setting the living room up for a sleepover. 

Your body began to shake again as you thought about how Rafe had effected you. JJ pulled you tighter and began to rub up and down your back to relax you. “It’s okay. You’re fine.” You clutched his shirt. You looked at him through your puffy eyes, and he smiled sadly at you. 

................................................................................................................................

John B walked and set five plates down on the coffee table and he looked at you expectantly. “I made your favorite, Y/N/N. Just try and eat what you can, we’re gonna get you healthy again.” He said patting your knee. You nodded and picked up the plate, eating bites here and there. 

Your friends knew you wouldn’t be okay for a while but they were willing to hold you until your pieces were put back together. 

That night you all just laid on the pull out couch cuddled into one another. You were the first to fall asleep among the pile of limbs. 

................................................................................................................................Months had gone by now and you most definitely had your days, but you were getting better. Your friends were with you through everything. You had emancipated yourself from your mother, and now lived at the Chateau with John B and sometimes (most the time) JJ. 

“Hey get up sleepyhead. We got fish to catch on the marsh today.” John B said slapping your leg. 

“Mmmm go away.” You sat up anyways, stretching your body and climbing off the spare bed. You pulled your clothes off and changed into a new red swimsuit and a pair of denim short. Checking your outfit in the mirror, you smiled at the lack of ribcage you saw. You finally began to have an appetite again. Reaching on the dresser, you grabbed a hat that JJ left in there and put it on your head. Slipping your feet into your flipflops you ran to the kitchen to put the beers into the cooler and grabbed some fruits, since Kie was bringing sandwiches. You caught up with John B and attached your arm to his. 

“So who’re we gettin first?” You asked as you swung the cooler. 

“Pope and JJ. JJ stayed at Pope’s since they had a grocery run early this morning.” You nodded and allowed John B to help you into the boat. 

“Can I drive?” You asked excited. John B laughed and nodded his head. 

You began to head towards Pope’s dock. When both boys got on the boat they greeted you with hugs. JJ rested his head on your shoulder as you headed towards Kie’s dock, leaving a smile on your face. “I like this color on you.” You laughed and pushed him off you. You didn’t mind that he was flirty with you, but you caught feelings pretty easily. You’d always thought JJ was attractive, but you’d known him since you were 5 some things just never happen. 

Kie jumped on the boat and you headed towards the marsh. John B was planning on driving the boat back tonight, so you were able to drink as much as you wanted while you were out here. You stopped the boat in your usual spot and JJ dropped the anchor. “Pope I bet I can do a better cannonball than you.” You teased as you pulled your shorts off. 

“I highly doubt that. You’ve never been good at cannonballs.” 

You laughed and raced over to the edge of the boat, cannon balling off the edge. You came back up for air, and Pope was laughing beside you in the water. “Y/N definitely had the better cannonball.” Kie said. You smirked. “Sorry Pope don’t make the rules.” 

The rest of the group followed you guys into the water where you just swam and messed around for a while. You grew tired and rested your body on JJ’s back. “Let’s have a chicken fight!” You yelled. JJ smiled dipping under the water to position you on his shoulder, Pope doing the same for Kie. You waited for John B to yell to start, then you were merciless to Kie. Ultimately you and JJ won. You both cheered as Pope and Kie went under water. JJ put you down and then you wrapped your arms around him. He smiled at you and then looked down at your lips, you doing the same. Before your lips could connect you swam away climbing back onto the boat. 

You pulled a beer out of the cooler and took a long sip. You pulled out some strawberries too and sat and ate those for a little bit. 

“Hey.” Kie said sitting next to you. You smiled and greeted her. 

“I saw what happened between you and JJ.” 

“What do you mean?” You questioned acting oblivious. 

“I mean I saw you almost kiss. It wouldn’t be the worst thing would happen. You deserve someone like him. He cares about you so much. He also is the best him when he’s with you.” 

“Kie, there’s nothing wrong with him. It’s me. I’m scared to get in another relationship. Just damaged goods huh?” You laughed. 

“JJ would never hurt you. But I do understand where you’re coming from.” 

“You might be right though. Maybe I’ll give him a shot.” You sighed. 

................................................................................................................................

You and JJ sat at the end of the dock, feet hanging over the edge. You debated on saying anything. 

“I’m sorry for running away.” 

“I’m sorry for trying to kiss you.” 

You both laughed as you had said something at the exact same time. 

“J, I was going to kiss you. I just got scared. I guess when something traumatic happens, it effects your more than you know.” 

“You don’t have to apologize for that. I should have known not to push you, especially when I know you haven't been ready. Hell I’m such an ass, I’ve been holding you as you’ve cried and broken down about it. I’m a terrible per-” 

You cut him off by placing your lips on his softly. He quickly kissed back and you smiled into the kiss, “J, stop you aren’t a terrible person. You’ve been helping me more than you know, have been since we were 5.” 

He smiled softly and kissed you again. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

[bisexualcrowley]

Fairytale of New York

Pairing: Jack Kline x Reader (Gender non-specified)

Summary: Jack gives you something you’ve always dreamt of while walking through a park on Christmas eve

Content/warnings: Fluff, songfic, little bit of angst, censored use of the F slur in song lyrics, can be read as romantic or platonic

Word count: 2, 581

A/N: I absolutely recommend you listen to the song while reading, I know it’s not really everyone’s taste but I feel that it adds to the mental image, plus there's a bunch of instrumental bits that I think are worth being included :) // Originally wrote this as a Jack fic, but felt that Jack fit better

The snow fell in a light drifting throughout the city, glistening in the glow of the streetlights and setting the scene for what in most movies would be seen as the perfect Christmas eve. It was quiet, peaceful, the soft noises of traffic heard behind the sound of slow Christmas music playing soothingly from a shop across the street.

Since becoming a hunter, you hadn’t really been much for the holidays, especially religious ones, but tonight as you walked side by side with Jack through the little park, boots crunching in the fallen powder with snowflakes dusting your hair as you made your way to a nearby pizza joint to meet Sam Dean and Cas, it felt different, the way Christmas should feel.

Tonight it didn’t matter that the apocalypse was approaching, the thought was shoved to the back of your head along with everything else that had gone wrong. Tonight was just snow, food, gifts, and family, and you found yourself smiling as you made your way along the path.

You were so caught up in your thoughts, or lack of them, that it took you a moment to realize you had been walking by yourself for a few seconds, and quickly doubled back to where the nephilim was standing.

You were concerned at first, his still figure bringing all sorts of unpleasant thoughts to mind, but your worries quickly evaporated when you drew closer to your friend. A peaceful smile graced his features, eyes closed and face tilted upwards, snowflakes hitting his skin and melting, the fair few settling softly on his eyelashes.

“...Jack?” You called quietly, hesitating at the idea of disturbing him but knowing he wouldn’t want to be late to dinner with the Winchesters.

Luckily, the nephilim’s peaceful expression cracked into a toothy grin as he turned his head to face you, a light dusting of snow falling from his hair onto his nose and making you giggle.

“It’s so beautiful, isn’t it Y/n. I never took the time to experience a snowfall properly before now, and it’s just... Well it’s just incredible. God did a good job with this one” He murmured happily, his gaze returning to the sky, this time followed by your own.

It had been years since you sat back and allowed yourself to enjoy a moment like this, year after year of hunting taking priority over and over again, and you were glad that there was time for it tonight. Jack was right, the sight truly was beautiful, the crystals of ice glistening as they blew through the sky and settled on every surface in sight.

You had just opened your mouth to respond when a familiar melody filled the air, and you paused in your thoughts. Fairytale of New York, The Pogues. You hadn’t heard this one in years, though you never forgot it, your teenage daydreams always somewhere in the back of your mind.

Apparently Jack had found your silence alarming and turned his attention back to you, finding you lost in thought, a troubled expression having replaced your smile from before.

“You look upset, Y/n, are you alright?” Your friend questioned, a concerned expression gracing his usually happy features, and his worry drawing a dry chuckle from your lips.

“It’s nothing Jack, lets just keep going, Sam and Dean are probably already at the pizza place” You replied in a dreary voice, sighing as the song progressed from purely instrumental to include vocals, the piano echoing sweetly in the darkened street and Shane Macgowan’s somewhat rough voice flooding your ears.

It was Christmas Eve babe

In the drunk tank

An old man said to me, won't see another one 

Turning away from Jack, you moved to cross away from the park, but found yourself held back by the angel’s hand landing firmly on your shoulder, forcing your gaze back in his direction.

“Honestly, it’s stupid, lets just keep going please” Your voice came out tight and clipped and the sound made you wince, hoping Jack didn’t think of it as rude. Luckily, in that sense, your friend didn’t seem to be offended, but unluckily it made him push the subject further.

And then he sang a song

The Rare Old Mountain Dew

“You've never been good at lying to me, Y/n, it’s clear that this isn’t stupid. Please, talk to me.” 

You shot him a defeated smile, the ache in your heart showing clearly in your eyes as you shoved your hands in your pockets, shifting your weight from one leg to the other.

I turned my face away

And dreamed about you 

“I dunno, Jack, It’s just this song.” You mumbled, gaze falling to the ground in hopes of avoiding the nephilim’s concerned stare.

“Ah, I understand. Cas explained this to me, how humans can connect bad memories to songs,” He nodded, his hand returning to your shoulder in a comforting gesture.

Got on a lucky one

Came in eighteen to one 

“No, it’s not that. It’s just... Ever since I was a kid I’ve always dreamt of dancing with someone to Fairytale of New York. I haven’t heard it in years, hunting kind of took over my life, but hearing it again makes me realize, as small as it is, I want it, so so badly. Being pulled close and spun around as the snow falls around me on Christmas eve, it’s so stupid but knowing the world is gonna end and I’ve never had the chance to experience it hurts like hell, Jack, and I know as a hunter I should have higher priorities, but honestly it’s all I fucking want, the only thing I wanted to do before I die and now I’m not gonna get the chance.”

I've got a feeling

This year's for me and you 

You didn’t plan to ramble on, spill such a close desire to your friend but as soon as you started speaking the dam broke, all your feelings slipping out at once. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t notice the tears running down your cheeks, not until a gentle hand tilted your chin up, your eyes locking on Jack’s caring ones as he brushed them away.

“That’s not stupid, Y/n... Actually, I think it’s quite beautiful. There’s so much hate and greed in this world, but all you ask for is one moment in time...”

Jack’s voice was quiet but sincere as he spoke,  and though you couldn’t work up the strength to thank him, you appreciated what he had said.

So happy Christmas

I love you baby 

“It doesn’t matter, we can’t all get what we want, right?” You smiled tightly, quickly clearing your throat and turning to head towards the road again, and once more you were stopped by a strong hand pulling you back.

"Jack please, lets go, I don’t wanna talk about this anymore, ok? It’s upsetting and it’s getting cold, let’s just go meet the guys” You huffed, now slightly annoyed at the nephilim’s stubbornness, but the feeling melting almost immediately into confusion as your friend pulled your shorter frame against his own, leading one of your hands to his waist and capturing your other in his.

I can see a better time

When all our dreams come true 

“Dance with me, Y/n.” He whispered, smiling shyly at the expression on your face.

“..what?” You managed to ask, somewhat in shock at the quick movements Jack had made to settle you in such a position.

“Look, I know this probably isn’t exactly what you were hoping for, It’s barely snowing, we’re probably going to get yelled at by Dean and well, it’s me, but if the world really does end, I don’t want you to go out having not experienced the thing you’ve dreamt of all your life. I understand if you don’t want to waste the moment with me, but if you do I’d be more than happy to share it with you”

Jack chuckled at the end of his sentence, but didn’t go on, waiting for an answer as the music picked up, moving from piano to accordion.

You had to fight back tears as your friend spoke. It was hard to believe, but it was finally happening, you were finally going to get your dance, and you just beamed up at the angel, emotions overflowing with each second that passed, and as the third verse began, you nodded, Jack responding by matching your smile and settling his free hand on your waist.

They've got cars big as bars

They've got rivers of gold

But the wind goes right through you

It's no place for the old

You hadn’t danced to the song since you were a kid, twirling around in an oversized dressing gown with a broom in Bobby’s basement, and you were almost certain Jack had never even heard of it before now, but somehow the both of you knew exactly what to do, how to move. Two steps and a spin, swinging away from the angel only to be pulled back in, each switch of your hands, it was all exactly how you had always pictured it.

When you first took my hand

On a cold Christmas Eve

You promised me

Broadway was waiting for me

1 2 3 4 5 6, 1 2 3 4 5 6. You counted silently along with the patterns played, a squeal turning into a joyous laugh as a particularly passionate spin from Jack led the both of you sliding along a patch of ice, boots leaving trails in the freshly fallen snow.

You were handsome

You were pretty

Queen of New York City

When the band finished playing

They howled out for more

You hadn’t expected Jack to enjoy himself as much as he appeared to be. You figured, hey, he’s a nephilim, I’ve helped him out, he probably feels obligated to do this, right? To see that you were wrong, the elation on his face made the already indescribable moment all the better

Sinatra was swinging

All the drunks they were singing

We kissed on a corner

Then danced through the night

The rare passerby walking through the park would smile, pause for a moment to watch the two of you spin happily across the frozen ground before continuing on their way, each one chuckling to themselves over whatever joke they came up with about once upon a time being young enough to move like that

The boys of the NYPD choir

Were singing Galway Bay

And the bells were ringing out

For Christmas day

As the two of you danced, you couldn’t help but think how beautiful this scene would be in a movie, all done up in fancy clothes, cameras following each sweeping movement you made

You're a bum

You're a punk

You're an old slut on junk

Lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed

Another step. Another swing.

You scumbag, you maggot

You cheap lousy f*ggot

Happy Christmas your arse

I pray God it's our last

Jack’s hands flew to your hips, picking you up as if weighed nothing as the chorus peaked once again, spinning you in the air and making you feel like you were flying.

The boys of the NYPD choir

Still singing Galway Bay

The moment your shoes touched the ground Jack bent you down in a dip, flashing you a goofy smile at the noise you let out

And the bells are ringing out

For Christmas day

Jack smiled, and you beamed up at him

I could have been someone

Well so could anyone

You took my dreams from me

When I first found you

The music slowed slightly, and Jack traded your previous quick footsteps for a simple back and forth box step, the softening of your movements giving him a proper look at you, with your hair mussed and face rosy from the cold. Your smile stood out the most to the angel though, the unfiltered joy crinkling your eyes and releasing whatever tension you were holding before

I kept them with me babe

I put them with my own

Can't make it all alone

I've built my dreams around you

The boys of the NYPD choir

Still singing Galway Bay

And the bells are ringing out

For Christmas day 

As the instrumental section came to an end, the wall inside you that you hadn’t even realized was there finally broke down, and you followed in suit. Your arms flew around the nephilim’s neck and you clung to him as if letting go would kill you, and you sobbed. The sudden burst frightened Jack, who quickly pulled away enough to meet your eyes, but was surprised to find that you weren’t upset, but were crying tears of happiness.

“Y/n are you alright?” He whispered, tightening his hold around you as you pulled him along, your complicated waltz now replaced by the simple motions of a slow dance, weight shifting from one side to another as the song neared it’s end

You didn’t reply at first, choosing instead to smile up at Jack with teary eyes and nod rapidly before managing to choke out the words “Thank you, Jack”. 

As the final few notes finally faltered off, you pulled away from the tight embrace, looking earnestly up at your friend, who wore a warm smile as well

“Really, Jack, Thank you. So, so much, that was incredible, I can’t even-” Your voice cracked, cut off, and unable to vocalize anything more you reached out and took his hand between your own, squeezing tightly.

Luckily Jack understood what you were trying to say. He knew he couldn’t ever truly understand the level of happiness the action had brought you, but he knew he was gonna cherish the moment for the rest of his life. It was the most fun he had had in as long as he could remember, but that wasn’t why he knew it would stick with with. There was something special about sharing such a moment with someone he loved so dearly, being able to give you that happiness that made life worth living, gave the strength to keep fighting whatever the hell would be thrown at them next.

You and Jack would have been happy to stay there forever, hands clasped together and snow dusting your hair, but as always, the reminder that all good things must come to an end was brought to you by whichever shop was playing music turning their volume way up, the blasting of trumpets from rockin’ around the Christmas tree hitting you like a truck and thoroughly ruining the peaceful setting.

Your reactions were like a scene out of a movie, the simultaneous jump, staring at each other in shock and finally breaking down in peals of laughter seconds later.

“I think that means it’s time to go” you snickered, the nephilim chuckling in response, and at that the two of you took off again, making your way towards the pizza place.

Thank you, you repeated silently. Thank you

-

Tags, let me know if you want to be added <3 @cursedbobs​ @frog-tiddies​  @imagine-whatever

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

Something to Uplift Us

Ao3,  MasterPost

Relationships:  Romantic DLAMPR (Roman-centric, kinda Remus-centric), platonic Creativitwins!!!

Do I like this??? Meh. Is it something that I wrote? Yes. I will heal myself from SVS-R with Fluff.

Warnings: Remus Typical Nonsense, swearing, mentions of being in Quarantine, all sympathetic sides, non-sexual Pole Dancing

Word Count: 2,667 

Roman was the essence of romance and it showed. For his entire existence, he'd been well acquainted with the hypothetical. If he were his own person, if he had a prince of his own, if he had the chance at a romantic relationship, he knew what he would do. Roman knew relationships, he always had, and it had tortured him to know that he'd never have one.

Which was why it frustrated him to no end that he hadn’t been the one to ask out his fellow sides. He’d honestly never thought that it would be an option. When he first developed his feelings for the others- Virgil, Patton, Logan, Janus, in that order- he had felt nothing more than excitement. He was giddy, he was light-headed, just to know that he could feel that way. He would spend hours daydreaming, just musing over the way they made his heart stop, but he never hoped for anything to come of it. He wasn’t sad, or mournful, or pining per se- just so caught up in the joy of feelings that he forgot that he could do something with them. 

So he thought about it a lot, suffice to say. And all he had now was time to think; it was nearly month three of quarantine. Roman had wrung his brain out like a sponge for anything new to think about- The Imagination was practically turning gray! He tried to tend to it, truly he did, but it was getting harder every day. Creativity's fellow sides had all busied themselves taking up new hobbies- Virgil was teaching Patton to draw, Janus had learnt embroidery, Logan took up knitting, Remus made trash sculptures… They all seemed to be having their own little renaissance (complete with plague), and what was Roman doing? Wasting valuable free time!

  In a fit of desperation, the artistic trait dived under his large canopy bed, rummaging around until his hand caught on the lip of a cardboard box. With no small amount of effort, he pulled the enormous container out from under his bed so that it could be properly examined. There, piled high in the box, were dozens of notebooks and sketchbooks- all of which filled to the brim with writing, drawings, and poetry. Having no clue what he was specifically looking for, Roman upended the box and watched the contents crash to the floor. Something in here would surely spark his mind! Perhaps some old work would catch his eye and inspire some redraws!

The side hadn't needed to search for long. Right at the top of the pile- bright pink, its cover dotted with puffy heart stickers- sat a large, spiral-bound sketchbook. You could almost see the light bulb pop up over Roman’s head as he squealed and snatched up the sketchbook. Flopping down onto his bed, he flipped it open in one hand and placed the other against his chest. 

“Ooh, some of my best,” he cooed to no one in particular, gaze turned to the dozens of love poems surrounded by little doodles of hearts that filled the pages. This was the journal he’d confided in before the sides had all officially begun their relationship, filled with flowery prose about anything from Janus’ scales to Patton’s smile; from Logan’s laugh to Virgil’s freckles (a rare sight, usually hidden by make-up). Roman was so lost in nostalgia that when the ideas hit him, he nearly fell out of bed in excitement at his own thoughts.

Of course! He could take all of these old writings and compose them together, into one eloquent amalgam that would illustrate perfectly all those things that he’d been unable to articulate in the beginning! And it seemed only fitting that such a soliloquy be delivered in The Imagination- in the most gorgeous scenario he could fabricate! Somewhere open to a starry sky, for his left-brained loves- but it had to have ornate architecture, of course, and it had to be cozy. Oh, it was all coming together now.

Roman leapt out of bed, posing with his hand above his head and sinking deeper into The Mindscape extravagantly. He didn’t waste time looking around at the depressing half-formed scenery, sweeping his arms up and erasing the entirety of his half of The Imagination. Time to get to work.

Remus was stretched across the Commons couch, his head in Janus’ lap and feet in Logan’s. The TV hummed with whatever show they’d thrown on as background noise, and a few feet away at the counter, Patton and Virgil were hovering over some sort of scrapbook.  Nobody had the energy for conversation; nobody had the energy for anything. 

It was magnificently boring. The Duke already filled up an entire sketchbook, written half a dozen shamelessly smutty self-insert fanfictions, constructed and subsequently destroyed eldritch beings in his room, and bothered his boyfriends. So, all that was left to do was doze.

It didn’t help Remus’ tired state that Janus was running his fingers through his hair. The monotonous waking world was finally slipping away. Maybe there was something buried in his dreams that could hold his attention.

But just before sleep took hold, a white-hot energy ran through the trait’s body, jolting him so suddenly that he tumbled off of the couch and onto the floor. His arms and legs were all pins-and-needles as he looked up at his very concerned partners.

“There’s fuckery afoot!” Remus announced, wide-eyed. He pulled himself up and grinned, “You guys stay here!” 

Without so much as a good-bye, Remus threw himself into the ground, saving himself the time of sinking out properly. After a moment’s silence, Janus resumed working on his embroidery. 

“Should we go see what that was about?” Patton asked tentatively. 

“Meh,” the three other sides responded in unison. After a moment, Janus added, “It is Remus, after all.”

Roman’s structure was coming together beautifully! Wide marble columns rose up and held aloft the glimmering silver ceiling, the middle of which was a sky-light open to thousands of stars and a brilliant full moon. Surrounding the opening was a spiral of stone roof- through the gaps of which even more astronomically accurate stars shone!

The inside of the building consisted of an immense mahogany stage, currently cloaked by thick velvet curtains and overlooking plenty of seats. Rather than traditional theater rows, Roman had arranged the seating like lovely cafe tables, all of which were given generous space from each other (Except for two at the very front, of course). Lanterns hung from the walls, casting the space in warm lighting. Creativity currently stood at the very back, thinking that it could use just a little more of something. With a smirk, the side snapped his fingers and the wall of the room was pushed backwards several yards. With a few more flicks of the wrist and dividing columns, a little lobby was formed. 

He’d given the theater room maroon carpeting and rich gray walls, but the new back section needed brighter lighting and a more cream-canary color scheme. Now he could just finish the decor!

Or he would have, if not for the fact that at that moment someone crashed into his ribs with all the grace of a flaming motorbike. 

“BRO!!!”

“ACK-!” was all Roman managed, as all the wind was knocked out of him. He glared up at his brother, who was sitting on his chest. 

“I knew you were up to something! You wiped half of the whole fucking Imagination! What is this!?” 

Roman wheezed, pushed Remus off of his chest, and finally pulled himself off the ground to catch his breath. His brother was spinning around the room already, eyes sparkling as he took in the building.

“I had to blank it, I needed my full focus,” Roman explained, back to work and filling the back wall with tall bookshelves, “and it’s a surprise, so don’t tell the others.”

“Oh, I won’t. Provided you let me in on whatever this is,” Remus had an ear-to-ear grin, bouncing on the balls of his feet. After a moment’s consideration, Roman hummed.

“I’m doing something nice for our boyfriends. I think we all could use a little pick-me-up, so do not ruin this!”

“I wanna do something nice for them! Lemme help!” 

“You don’t even know what it’s for! Plus, it’s personal!”

“I already asked what it was for, Stupid.”

Roman huffed.

“I wrote them something. Hence the stage.”

“So, what, you’re gonna bring them all into your fancy library-opera for your poetry orgy and I sit in a corner somewhere and be quiet?”

“Ideally.”

“Not a chance, Whore!” Remus swung himself up onto the concession stand that Roman had just created, tearing into a box of candy (food made in The Imagination always tasted weirder than food or ingredients they conjured elsewhere in the Mindscape, but he didn’t particularly mind). 

“Fine. What do you want to do?” Roman challenged, hands on his hips.

“I. Want. To. Help.”

Roman raised his eyebrows doubtfully. Grumbling, his twin started gesturing around the room as he spoke.

“The stars are too bright, they take the focus away from the stage instead of accenting it. The color of the curtains are too similar to the carpet. You’ve got Corinthian shit in there and bookstore lobby vibes in here, which is garbage and inconsistent.”

Roman blinked, his eyes following along with Remus’ criticism. 

“Hm. You have a point.”

“I’m Creativity too, you know. I have some taste.” The Duke said, gnawing on the cardboard box that had contained Imagination Candy moments before. 

“You’re wearing crocs and jorts, simultaneously.”

Remus waved his hand dismissively, hopping off the counter and rushing across the room.

“Whatever. Come on, I’ve got an idea how I can accompany your performance, too.”

“Oh, goody.”

Hours had past and little had changed in the Mindscape living room- Virgil and Patton had finished up their scrapbooking and were curled up together in an armchair, so Logan was sitting at the counter space previously occupied by the two and clacking away on his laptop, and Janus hadn’t moved. The muddled energy of the room had remained pervasive.

That was, until the door to the imagination slammed open, the doorknob cracking against the wall. Four heads shot up to see Remus and Roman, standing side-by-side (quite looking the part of identical twins, matching smiles and all). 

“Oh god,” Janus groaned instinctively, carefully setting his embroidery on a side table, “What did you two do?”

“Yeah, I don’t trust that look,” Virgil said.

The twins scoffed in mock-offense, continuing their odd coordination.

“We try to do something nice,” exclaimed Remus.

“And not so much as a ‘thank you,’” added Roman solemnly. Eyes were rolled, but Patton perked up considerably (just as planned). 

“Ooo, what are you talking about?” 

“It’s a surprise!” Said The Duke, bouncing up and down. Creativity Prime gave a sweeping motion to indicate the still-open door to the Imagination, which had been steadily seeping into the common room with a bright new energy that it had been lacking for days. 

“Follow us,” he instructed, disappearing through the door once more with Remus at his back. Patton bounced after them immediately, grinning. 

The three left-brained sides exchanged glances, shrugged, and followed suit. 

The twins were backstage in an instant, trusting their partners to figure out where their seats were on their own. Roman began pacing around as soon as they finished warming up. 

“Are you sure you can do this? I’m still not sure if your performance is well-suited to acoustic guitar-”

He was cut off by Remus groaning exaggeratedly.

“I can work with anything, bitch.” 

“Right, right,” There was a beat. “You’re sure you’re ready?”

“I’ve been ready. What’s going on with you?”

Rather than responding, Roman did another lap around the stage. 

“C’mon! Stop pacing before I take a bonesaw to your legs!”

“Okay! Alright! I’m ready!”

Before Remus could come up with any more gruesome threats, Roman snapped his fingers and the curtains began to rise. He took his place half-sitting on a stool up front, a guitar in his arms. Behind him, Remus stood between two sturdy metal poles that rose from the stage and into the ceiling. You can already see where this is going.

When the stage was fully revealed, the lights above the audience dimmed. Figuring that the show would be rather awkward if said audience consisted of four people, the Creativities had The Imagination render dozens of prop-people. They moved and acted like a crowd of humans, but each individual was too vague to focus on for long. Thus it was made very clear where their fellow sides were, sitting right up front with a wide array of expressions from amazed to amused to bewildered.

Roman took a moment to steel himself and then began playing. Originally, he’d planned on spoken-word for his loves, but traditionally there is music involved in pole-dancing, so he’d made a few adjustments in order for Remus to be able to contribute. 

Roman started singing, melting as the gazes of the real audience members turned awestruck (and also very flushed, likely from whatever surprisingly impressive poses his brother was pulling behind him). He liked to think that he poured his heart out into every performance, but for this one it felt quite literal. 

Roman’s voice picked up gradually, and he could vaguely hear metal clanging behind him. It went on like that for a good few minutes- because if there was one thing the Twins weren’t, it was brief- before the show finally concluded. Roman stalled for a moment as both the imaginary and real components of the audience applauded uproariously. Remus swung down from the pole and hopped over to him.

“We bow now, Dumbass,” he hissed, noticeably out of breath.

“Oh- right.”

They took hands and took a couple bows as the clapping died down, standing back up with wide grins and red faces. 

As soon as the auditorium was relatively silent, Patton rushed the stage. He outstretched his arms and hopped up and down excitedly.

“Lemme up!” 

Roman grabbed his hands and pulled him on stage while Remus was still attempting to catch his breath. Morality leaned down to give The Prince a brief kiss, and then bounced over to the much more exhausted half of the act to give him the same treatment. He was grinning so wide that it looked painful, his face a bright pink. The Duke wore a matching expression, but the smile was much more unnatural in that preferred way of his.

“So you liked it?”

Rather than verbally responding, Patton grabbed the hands of both Creativities and made a cheerful ribbiting sound.

“It was wonderful,” Logan supplied, climbing the stairs on the side of the stage to meet them, Virgil and Janus right behind him. He was much less outwardly enthusiastic as the other spectacled side, but no less appreciative.

“Yeah, did you guys put all this together today?” Virgil asked, throwing an arm around Roman’s shoulders. 

“What else did we have to do?” Remus answered with a shrug. 

“Good point.”

Janus cleared his throat lightly, immediately drawing everyone’s attention. His eyes were noticeably rimmed with redness, a small smile on his face as he outstretched all of his arms.

“Here, all of you, now.”

Patton cooed.

“Group hug!” 

Fitting six people into one hug may seem awkward, but it always seemed to work out for the sides. At least, Roman thought so. Virgil would fake exasperation at the affection, but they could all tell he loved it. Logan would try to maintain his dignity and fail miserably. Patton was a ball of warmth and energy that seeped into the rest of them. Janus was by far the best at giving hugs, though it could be considered cheating to have extra limbs.

At that moment it hit Roman that, perhaps he hadn’t started this relationship, but he was still a part of it. And that was all he could ever want.

These    Performances    inspired Remus’. They are oddly calming to watch, and super impressive!

@shrimp-crockpot

[wonderlandmind4]

Delicate Stages of Life: 24

A Piece of Me

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC; Platonic Steve Rogers x OFC

Summary: Life in Wakanda is filled with love, laughs, some tears, all emotions, lazy days, goats, hot springs, a soul connection, and something dark that looms over Bucky’s and Ana’s domestic bliss…

Warnings: Language. Angst. Loss, Grief. Labor pains. Non-graphic child birth.

Words: 11,820

A/N: Again, sorry for taking so long to update. This was a monster for me to write and it’s just been hard to write lately, BUT, this chapter jump starts the last phase of the Drabbles...  (Do not read unless you’ve read Delicate Stages first) beautiful moodboard by @afewmarvelousthoughts​ and thank you for all your help and tears and yelling at me. I’m sorry! <3 **I have never given birth, just going off experiences of mothers I know**

Holidays: 29 weeks Dec 13th:

One morning Ana wakes up to a solid kick from inside her stomach, rapidly blinking at the odd light streaming through her window. After she carefully sits up, soothing her hands over her round belly, she blinks again, startled.

Snow. It had snowed sometime during the night and with the sight comes the realization; it’s the middle of December. Time had ticked by in muted colors to Ana that when she finally came back to herself, five months had passed. Five months since the air filled with ashes. Five months since she last touched Bucky. Five months since the absence of his soul.

Now it’s nearly Christmas. Ana can’t even remember her birthday or Thanksgiving passing. Though by the tears escaping her eyes and the ache in her chest, it’s not going to be a good day. She continues to stare out the window, the snow-covered ground and trees in the distance offer a bittersweet illusion of a perfect world. Quiet. Tranquil.

A memory invades Ana’s mind from last year. Her and Bucky snuggled together in front of a fire at Tony’s cabin, talking about a future family. She shakes the memory from her head and finally gets out of bed, ignoring the very real feeling of Bucky’s arms around her. Ignores the phantom scent of his breath and the spiced apple toddy he drank that evening.

Waddling her way to the kitchen with her hand supporting an ache in her lower back, she spots a blessed pot of coffee freshly brewed. Ana hasn’t had such a desperate urge for the taste of coffee in so long, that she nearly drops the mug she pulls from the cabinet in haste. Once she’s poured herself a generous amount, she inhales deeply. The nutty aroma sending her mind straight back to the first day she met Bucky, and all the sessions that followed.

She revels in memory, when she was proud of herself for pulling a smirk out of the infamous Bucky Barnes after she told him she didn’t poison the coffee. How they starting to bond over silly conversation of coffee, how he used to tease her but ask how to make it properly. How Bucky would sometimes show up before her, waiting for her to arrive with coffee in hand. Ana is so lost in her mind, she doesn’t register the shift of air behind her.

“That’s caffeinated, and I know you are not about to drink it while seven months pregnant.”

Snapping back to reality, Ana shoots a glare over her shoulder at Steve. “Being seven months pregnant is the perfect reason to drink it.”

The sigh Steve emits makes her step back out of his reaching range, just in case. “Ana,” He draws out in mock disappointment.

“No! I need it need it, Steve,” She practically whines, clutching the hot mug to her chest. “Especially today. With the snow and these fucking memories, and Carol isn’t here to help regulate me, and my rings don’t fit right now. I just need caffeine, just this once.”

His eyes narrow. “Just this once?” He repeats incredulously. “Didn’t Rhodes catch you sneaking his coffee a week ago?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that,” Ana shrugs, lifting the mug to her lips.

Sounds of scuffling come from the front hallway then, Ana distracted enough for Steve to finally and carefully, snatch the mug away from her hands. She makes a noise of protest, before she sees the dark green branches of a pine tree. Natasha and Rhodes carry in a small tree, with Rocket following behind them, an axe propped over his shoulder.

“What the hell is that?” Ana demands quietly, her chest tightening.

“It’s a tree,” Nat snipes dryly. “What the hell does it look like?”

They set the tree down in the living room, adjusting the stand that’s already anchored to the trunk. An onslaught of rage and heartache overcome Ana for reasons she can’t quite comprehend. Abruptly it takes everything she has not to grab the axe from Rocket, chop the tree into little pieces and throw them into the fireplace.

Holidays are meant to be joyful. Holidays are meant to celebrate with families and loved ones. Holidays are meant to bring brightness. They’re meant for the rest of the world to fade away into warmth, sparkles, the smells of baked goods.

Not this time. Ana sees nothing joyous about that tree, just the inevitable death of its needles. She doesn’t feel the warmth of the season, just the continuous frigid void in her chest. Outside, the falling snow morphs into ashes.

“Get it out of here.” Ana nearly growls, her fists clenching; the lights flicker. She can no longer look at it without wanting to scream.

“Uh, why?” Rhodes demands, crossing his arms. “It’s nearly Christmas.”

“I don’t care, just get it out! I don’t want it in here! It doesn’t belong here!”

Rhodes serves Ana a look so stern, she abruptly feels like a scolded child.

“Yeah, you’re gonna have to dial that back,” He commands, gesturing to her. “This is misplaced anger, and you’re taking it out the wrong way. This might not be something you want, but don’t forget, you aren’t the only one suffering through depression. And maybe if you recognized that, you’d realize a damn Christmas tree just might make everyone else forget the shit that’s happened for once.”

His words are a punch to her heart. Immediately all her anger melts from her bones as she looks at the floor. Rhodey is one hundred percent correct, embarrassingly Ana is reminded of how much she truly missed when she shut her emotions off. She hasn’t been fair or considerate of anyone for months. Just because she can’t handle a fucking tree, doesn’t mean she can force anyone else to do the same.

Her throat burns with that wake-up call; the flicker stop flickering. Ana slowly gathers herself, breathes deeply while stroking her hands over her stomach to soothe herself. The baby moves and rolls in response. Finally, she nods.

“You’re absolutely right,” She concedes, meeting his eyes once more. “I’m sorry I snapped. I just…I’m just not in the mood to celebrate any holiday, but I shouldn’t expect anyone else to. I apologize.”

Rhodes stares her down a few moments before his expression breaks. “Accepted.”

The tense silence that follows is heavy and awkward, until Steve pushes the coffee mug back into Ana’s hand. “Just the one cup.”

She silently takes the mug, barely feeling the warmth of the coffee on her fingers. “I’m just going to go lay down now.”

As she makes her exit, Rhodey stops her. “Do you…need anything?” He offers kindly.

She gives him a grateful smile over her shoulder. “No, thank you.”

*

Steve has been distracting himself from checking up on Ana by pulling the dust covered box of decorations from storage and going through it. Oddly, a glass ornament is wrapped in newspaper, and with a delicate swipe of his fingers over the ink, he’s brought back to another lifetime eight decades ago.

Christmases during The Great Depression weren’t grand; far from it. Memories of Steve stuffing his shoes with old newspapers to keep his feet warm- and possibly give himself a few extra inches in height- fill his head. His mother carefully wrapping handmade ornaments in those same newspapers. 

A slightly dirty Bucky just back from working odd jobs here and there, holding up a turkey he received as payment. He had dragged both Steve and his mother over to the Barnes household for a rare Christmas Eve dinner.

Giggles of four little girls huddled together as they watched Steve nail their brother in the face with a slush of a snowball. A quiet night of serving his mother tea as she laid sick in bed. Yet she still gifted him fresh parchment bound together to go with the charcoal pencils Bucky got him earlier.

The memories turn melancholy as Steve remembers that first Christmas without his mother. How Bucky selflessly spent the night away from his own family, taking care of a feverish Steve, even though all he wanted to do was stay huddled in bed and cry himself to sleep from grief. Instead, Bucky pulled out a bottle of whiskey from his tattered coat and dumped some into Steve’s tea.

“Nicked it from that banker's house on the other side of town,” Bucky had shrugged, looked proud of himself before he took a swig from the bottle.

“Buck,” Steve had reprimanded weakly. Until he remembered that banker is the one who cheated on his wife and bragged about it. He had taken too big of a gulp, nearly choked and spluttered.

Bucky waited, patted his back until his airways cleared. “Did that no good, two-timer notice you?”

“Hell no,” Bucky laughed. “Guys like him deserve to have his illegal booze stolen, he’s got enough money to smuggle more. Did you take your medicine?”

Steve held up his mug. Bucky rolled his eyes, then gently pushed him over to snuggle in next to him. Not once did he ever leave Steve’s side. Instead he chatted his ear off with stories of Rebecca attempting to make her own dolls, and that one brunette, brown-eyed dame he tried to save from a sleazy man before she decked the guy square in the jaw.

“I’m sweet on her now. Whatty’a think, Stevie? Think I’ve got a chance with a dame like that?”

(Steve huffs a laugh when he remembers that bit. Bucky always did have a type; it’s no wonder he fell for Ana so quickly.)

"Nah,” Steve said through a cough. “A girl like that wouldn’t give you the time of day.”

“Punk.” Bucky rubbed his knuckles atop his head.

“Jerk.” He weakly shoved him in retaliation.

Silence fell between them; sleep quickly took over Steve’s tired and sick body. He had slid further down the bed, pulling the thin blanket up to his chin.

“Thank you, Buck. For being here.”

Bucky took a minute to respond. “Didn’t want you to be alone during the holidays. With you til the end of the line, pal.”

The light pitters of something wet hitting the newspaper brings Steve back to the present. A few dark drops absorb into the paper before he realizes he’s crying. He hastily wipes the tear off his face, clears his throat and wills away the pain in his heart. Steve gets it. He understands why Ana reacted the way she did.

Shaking his head to clear his past, he rewraps the ornament and returns to his task. Once he’s done, Steve just sits in the closet by himself for a while; allows him himself to wallow. He’s absentmindedly scratching his growing beard, wondering if he should give it a shave when FRIDAY alerts him.

“Captain Rogers, the weather is a brisk 25 degrees outside, with steady snowfall.”

Frowning up at the ceiling as if the AI can see him, he replies, confused. “Thank you? Is there a reason you’re giving me a weather report?”

He swears FRIDAY sigh. “Mrs. Barnes has been sitting out for-“

“Got it, thanks.” Steve cuts her off, yanking the door open. He knows exactly where Ana is.

As he quickly makes his way through the compound, Steve apologizes to that younger Bucky during the all those winters. He recalls his exasperated best friend every time Steve hid out on rooftops and fire escapes after getting into fights. Every time, Bucky had been there with Steve’s coat, or just taken his own coat off to wrap around Steve’s scrawny little shoulders instead.

“Christ, Stevie, your lungs ain’t gonna work anymore the longer you stay out here, punk.”

When Steve climbs through her window, and finally opens the door to the roof, the irony isn’t lost on him. Ana is sitting on the furthest chair, staring out into the frosted woods, snow catching in her long hair. Only a thin blanket over her lap protects her from the cold and the biting wind from the height of the deck. Her hands are protectively cradling the bump of her stomach.

“Ana, what are you doing out here?” Steve questions, briskly walking to her. He places the jacket he found in her room over her shoulders; one of Bucky’s jackets. “You’ll freeze your toes off.”

“You’ll freeze your damn toes off, and I will not explain to your Ma why her son got frostbite.”

He wraps an arm around her, pulling her into his side to share his body heat with her. The old memories of Bucky practically yanking his asthmatic self into a slightly warmer building fade away.

“This is where we kissed the first time,” Ana reminisces, a quiet reserve to her voice. She points adjacent to them. “Right there, when I said those triggers words, he kissed me.”

Steve remembers when Bucky couldn’t stop pacing in his room after that night, panic stricken because he didn’t know how to process his feelings for her. He couldn’t understand how she put so much trust into him. Steve squeezes her shoulder, hoping to offer her some comfort.

“This is where Bucky told me he loved me for the first time. Up here, with pizza.”

His chest feels hollow realizing how many memories this rooftop holds for her. “C’mon honey, it’s not good for you to be out here, let’s go back inside. Warm you up.”

“Nothing is ever going to be the same,” Ana laments as if she didn’t hear him. “Holidays, birthdays, celebrations. Life.”

“Yeah.” Steve exhales wearily.

“I knew this. I knew all of this, but…for months I acted like I was the only one holding onto this grief so heavily. I’ve lost everyone, Steve. I’ve lost my whole family and I never thought I could feel more pain and grief than that. But I was wrong, this is so different. Because I could feel him leave me. I could feel Bucky’s soul rip from mine.”

“It’s incredible, Stevie. I can feel her all the time, like her life energy is this infinite sunlight around me.”

He sees that day clearly when Bucky had said those words to him. He remembers the look of pure awe and adoration on his friend’s face that day. Steve squeezes her closer, offering his comfort in the cold bitter air. Something wet falls onto his shirt, soaks in quicker than the snowflakes. He lifts his hand, gently wiping the tears off her cheeks before the cold can freeze them there.

“Hey now, Steve, c’mon. No tears, they’ll freeze on your face, pal.”

Steve swallows back yet another whispered memory, when he was frustrated the neighborhood bully just kicked his ass no matter how many times Steve got back up.

“Your pain isn’t invalid, Ana,” He tells her delicately, lifting the sleeve of the jacket to dry her face. “That is something none of us will ever begin to comprehend, that connection you both shared.”

“Maybe not,” Ana sniffs, “but that shouldn’t erase anyone else’s pain in my mind and that’s exactly what I was doing.”

“Watching you turn off your emotions was- fuck, it was haunting. It was scary because we couldn’t tell if doing that was just hurting you instead. I hated that you did that, but I also understand why you did. I think we just-“ Steve pauses to gather his words properly.

Ana speaks up before he does. “I’ll never be able to express how sorry I am for shutting everyone out, for acting like- well...like a cold hearted-“

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Steve chastises firmly. “I think we just wanted to have any ounce of your old self back. We were all concerned.”

“I’m still trying to find that myself,” Ana sighs, voice cracking; she sounds exhausted. She tilts her head to the side, leaning on his shoulder. “I got mad about the tree because the memories of last Christmas are perfect. It was our first one together, did you know that? Our first time celebrating the holiday season. I don’t want to celebrate anything.”

“So, keep the eggnog away from you then?” Steve quips lamely. Ana winces and gags.

“Fuck no,” She picks her head back up. “I don’t think the baby’s palate will tolerate that.”

“And I don’t think the baby can tolerate the cold much longer,” He counters. “Let’s get you inside.”

Steve drops his arm in favor of carefully helping up from the chair. Ana winces again, her hands covering her stomach. Pain flashes over her face for a moment, and panic shoots through Steve’s chest.

“Are you okay? What was that?” He asks worriedly, hand hovering along her back.

“It's fine,” She pants, waving him off with her hand. “Just some pressure is all. Little Bean’s running out of room I think.” Relief shags Steve’s shoulders. Until- “The baby is moving a lot. Do you want to feel-?”

“I’m good. That’s not, uh, it’s kind of intimate. Time to go inside.” Steve ignores her bewildered look and focuses on guiding Ana down the stairs safely. He keeps Bucky’s jacket wrapped tight around her.

*

The memory of last Christmas spent snuggling close with Bucky in front of a fire and talking about their future mocks Ana. It was one of those perfect moments in a lifetime, and she didn’t want to tarnish the memory with this Christmas being...widowed. Alone and 7 months pregnant.

Since Rhodey’s harsh truth, Ana has kept any bitter despair to herself. However, she did allow herself one moment of a Christmas song. It made her smile briefly, before a memory of both Bucky and Tony singing at the top of their lungs as they decorated the tree cut it short.

Ana does not want to decorate the tree. She stays in her room, until Rocket barges in, trailing a bunch of silver tinsel in his wake.

He demands to know, “Who was the asshole to make such a messy infuriating thing to put on a damn stupid tree!?”

Nebula stood at the doorway, a murderous expression on her face as she fights with several pieces of tinsel, static making it cling to her. Ana can’t help the surprised laugh that bubbles out of her at the both of them.

Vaguely, in the back of her mind as Rocket drags her out of her room demanding to untangle the tinsel, Ana thinks the two might have planned it all. She’s exhausted by the time she unknots the stuff, focusing more on the silver plastic and quietly refusing to put anything on the tree.

By the time she’s done, she waddles back to her room, Natasha close behind. All she does is hand Ana a hot mug of cider and snuggles in close. Nat talks to and gently pets her hands over her stomach and promises the baby to teach them her “death by thighs” move one day. Ana drifts off to sleep, head tucked under Natasha’s neck.

When Christmas does come around, it’s with stinging emptiness, of several people missing and the weight of the whole world grieving. At breakfast, as she’s slowly eating, Ana finds herself with a small pile of gifts next to her on the table. Her glare prompts a response from Steve who had given her one more.

“You stayed locked in your room for your birthday last month,” He shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck. “You aren’t having a baby shower. Just accept them. Please?”

Most gifts end up being for the baby anyway, including a crib, so Ana lets it slide and quietly thanks them.

She ends up fighting back tears the longer she stays out in the living room, desperately wanting to escape. She’s exhausted, down to her bones, and the aching in her chest throbbing Bucky’s name hurts more and more. She closes her eyes and breathes, flexing her fingers and smoothing her hands over her stomach. The baby kicks and moves before it settles a few moments later.

Someone sits next to her, and she doesn’t have to open her eyes to tell that the stupidly large and warm bicep pressing against her own arm is Steve. He doesn’t say anything, just simply takes hold of her right hand, and squeezes. 

He doesn’t let go, and despite the prickling of tears behind her eyelids and the trembling of her lips, Ana leans her head against his shoulder. The sense of comfort seeps into her own energy, and soon after she falls asleep.

30 Weeks Pregnant:

Just on the verge of her eighth month, Ana hears Natasha’s irritated sigh, as she munches on a slice of mango pizza. 

"Ana, I swear if you don’t stop nesting in the office, I will throw away all the mangoes and you’ll be stuck with mushrooms for your pizza topping from now on.”

As Natasha Romanoff threats go, it’s rather mild. She shrugs as Nat holds up two files as proof.

“It was messy!” Ana defends, her feet propped up on the coffee table.

“Lucky you’re pregnant,” She grumbles.

“Enhanced hearing, remember?”

Natasha glares at her. “It took me an hour to find my notes. Why don’t you organize Steve’s shit? Or Rocket’s? I haven’t seen you in Nebula’s room, go nest in there.”

“Nebula would cut my hand off, pregnant or not.”

“It’s true.” Nebula speaks up with her husky low menacing voice, pizza slice in hand. Ana raises her eyebrows at her. She pauses. “Maybe.”

Ana beams. Natasha huffs, coming over to join them. She bends over to gently pat Ana’s belly. Which has grown even more in the past weeks, but dropped as well, the baby’s head sitting lower.

“Your mama better name you Natasha after I put up with her little tendencies huh little one?” Nat coos.

“That’ll go over well if Bean is a boy,” Ana jokes, also patting over where she thinks its little foot is. There’s a responding nudge, a rather firm one. Ana frowns. “Sassy.” Natasha chuckles, then steals Ana’s slice. “Hey!”

“Now someone’s hand will be chopped off,” Nebula inputs at the scene. Ana nods with a pout.

“What are you going to do? Waddle after me with your swollen ankles?” Nat teases.

“You’re being mean to me,” She whines, but can’t keep the smile off her face.

Neither can Nat. “Then keep your nesting habits away from my files, Barnes.”

Ana steals the slice back. “I also reorganized your knives.”

 That earns another glare. “So, so lucky you’re pregnant.”

It’s rare, these little moments of teasing and humor. Five months have passed since The Snap, and Ana’s grief and pain are still as crushing as ever. Her dreams remain constant. Dealing with feeling her emotions again has become a little easier, but there are days where she feels shattered by them, and cries into her pillow, or the nearest pair of arms.

Lately, it’s been Natasha. But these moments are what helps get Ana and everyone else through the day. Hour by hour, day by day, week by week. She has also been keeping herself in check and trying to be attentive to everyone’s feelings around her.

“Has Steve woman upped yet and felt the baby kick?” Nat wonders. The red roots of her hair are growing back faster now.

“No…He’s still a little creeped out,” Ana yawns. “It’s kinda funny.”

Humming, Natasha suddenly stands up. “Time for your checkup, let’s go.” Groaning, Ana shoves the last bits of her pizza into her mouth. “Come on. It’s one of the last ones before your due date.”

Ana shimmies from her rather comfortable spot on the couch to the edge, taking a deep breath and readying her swollen ankles to stand. Both Natasha and Nebula carefully grab an arm and help Ana up, keeping her steady until she can stand on her own. An odd sort of pressure throb through her stomach, and she frowns, suddenly thankful she does have a checkup today. 

*

Three days later has Ana gasping awake from her dream. This time she swears she feels ashes slip through her fingers. Brings her right back to that horrid day in Wakanda, when she couldn’t reach Bucky in time. The same constricting feeling settles in her chest, and the room begins to feel hot; a golden orange glow briefly emits from her clenched hands.

Before her powers can lash out, Ana moves the best she can, hurriedly grabbing one of the beads. It only takes a few moments to get a video up, but the second she hears his voice, her heart begins to settle. The glow fades, and the rattling in the room that had started ceases.

Bucky’s timbre soothes her, replaying his lullaby twice more. On the third time, Ana pauses the recording, the projected image frozen on Bucky’s sweet face. The gentle fondness in his blue eyes, the slightly crooked smile, his long hair pulled into a bun, his beard just a touch unruly.

She remembers this day precisely; one of the last days Bucky sang to her stomach, to their child. No matter how many times Ana reminded him that the baby couldn’t hear him yet, he never cared.

It never stopped Bucky from randomly moving from one spot -be it the couch, bed, another room, the hut- to wherever Ana was and kept singing. It never stopped him from dropping to his knees as she made another strange snack she was craving in the kitchen and nuzzling his face against her barely there bump. Never kept him from staying up as she fell asleep to his words whispering lovingly against her skin. Feeling his warm breath, his sweet lips, his soft beard, his gentle caress of his fingers over her stomach. Feeling his heart, his love, his soul.

“I can hear it. The heartbeat.” Bucky would tell her, voice thick with emotion.

She hasn’t felt Bucky for months. 

Ana reaches out like she does in her dreams, fingers curving over his holographic jaw. She keeps her touch delicate, as to not distort the image. In this moment, only for a moment, she pretends she can feel him. Pretends that her husband is truly looking back at her.

“I’m sorry, Snowflake,” Ana murmurs, tears burning in her throat. “I haven’t been the same without you. I turned off my emotions. You wouldn’t have liked that at all, would you? I don’t even like myself right now.” 

Ana swipes the tears off her chin with her left hand. “But I swear I’ll try to be better. I swear I will take care of our baby for both of us, and he, she- our child will grow up knowing exactly who you are and how much you loved them. I just…I miss you. God, I miss you so fucking much I can’t breathe most of the time, and it hurts.”

Inhaling a shuddering breath, tears overcome her, sobs hitching in her chest. Ana brushes her shaking fingers over his cheek, the image rippling from her touch.

“I love you.”

When she turns off the bead and the image vanishes, she weeps into her hands. Ana wipes her cheeks, attempting to calm herself. Taking deep breaths, she places the bead back into it’s safe place in the drawer. A rather sharp kick from within makes her wince, then chuckle.

“Sorry, baby. I know I’ve been crying a lot lately.” Ana says to her stomach, rubbing soothing circles over her belly. “That can’t feel too good for you either.”

Once Ana’s crying slows, she cleans her face with tissues, blows her nose, and throws the tissues away in the bin beside her bed. Just then her ears pick up a sound outside her room. Carefully standing up, she walks to the door, pulling it open.

“Steve,” Ana greets with a sigh. She shouldn’t be shocked at this point.

Steve smiles sheepishly. “You alright?”

“Yeah. How much did you hear?”

He leans against the door frame crossing his arms, his shoulders hunched. “Just the ending. Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Just came by to see if you want to-“

Another kick and more movement briefly make Ana miss what he’s saying. Blowing a slow breath out she presses her hands over the spot; things are starting to get more uncomfortable.

“Sorry, could you repeat?”

He flashes her an understanding look. “Asked if you wanted to go for a walk with us. Nat and I.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” Ana agrees, fighting a wince from the kicking. “Dr. Hammond suggests it now that I seem to be healthy enough. Said the walking could help calm the baby.”

He laughs under his breath. “I can kinda see why,” He says, eyes on her stomach.

“Yeah, this little bean has been more active lately,” She pauses “Steve, um, would you like to feel the baby kick?”

Steve’s eyes snap up to her. “Oh, um, isn’t that a bit personal? I mean-“ He stumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Ana rolls her eyes fondly. This is her husband’s best friend, he shouldn’t feel weird about it. She grabs his hand, placing the flat of his palm just to the right of her stomach. A few long seconds pass, Ana carefully watching Steve’s expression. 

His brows are furrowed, his mouth curving down, as if he’s sad the baby isn’t moving for him. Then, the same rolling pushing movement comes once more and Steve’s blue eyes light up.

His mouth falls open slightly, a toothy smile across his lips. “Ana,” He gasps, meeting her eyes. “That’s…amazing.”

Ana can’t help but laugh, her heartache forgotten for the time being. “See, nothing to be nervous about. Kinda cool, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah. This, this is your baby. You and Buck’s…” His excitement fades into sorrow. Steve lifts his other hand to the opposite side, lightly scrunching his fingers as if he’s waving in a way.

“How about that walk now?” Ana cuts the melancholy short. She’s starting to feel the energy around them changing. Steve’s energy; the same kind he has been keeping from her. “Is it nice out?”

Pulling his hands off her stomach, Steve clears his throat and nods. “Bit warmer today, 56 right now.”

“Let me get dressed and I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

“No rush.” Steve takes a step before he halts. “Are sure you’re okay, Ana?”

She gives him her most convincing smile, which is a good attempt on her part. “Yeah. Just, missing him a lot today. That’s everyday though,” She chuckles humorlessly. “I swear I’m good, Steve.”

Steve’s scrutiny lasted longer than Ana would have liked. Then he nods. “Take your time.” 

 *

The only entertaining thing about New Year’s passing was Ana sitting out on the patio, watching Rocket and Rhodey rig together a contraption to set off fireworks. Natasha sat next to her, Ana’s legs on her lap as she massaged her swollen ankles and feet under a warm cable knit blanket, sitting next to a heater. Nebula and Steve are locked in a card game, when the first firework goes off. Steve flinches then frowns. His eyes meet Ana’s for briefly, before he goes back to discarding.

As explosions go off in the sky, Bucky tightens his arms around Ana’s waist, his face hidden in her neck as he presses a kiss to her pulse. “I don’t think I’m fond of fireworks.”

Ana brushes her fingers through his soft hair, gently scratching his scalp. Slowly she uses her ability to calm his energy, soothe him deeper than a touch. “Makes sense. You are a war vet.”

“Used to hear them go off in Romania sometimes,” Bucky had confessed. “Always thought it was a sign Hydra found me. That they had bombs set around the building I lived in. It was something I could never shake.” 

Another one goes off in the distance; Bucky inhales her scent, his hands clutching her skin. Ana catches Tony walking by. “Tony, I thought no one was allowed to set off fireworks up here.”

He catches on quickly, pointing his glass of whiskey towards Bucky. Ana nods, then with an annoyed flare, he says, “Those damn kids. Goodie! I felt like chewing someone’s ear off tonight. I’ll call them!”

Bucky snorts, then sighs in content as Ana continues to relax his nerves with her powers. “They’re pretty, but...too loud.”

“I got you, Snowflake,” Ana promised, pulling up the blanket to cover them both and hide them away. 

“I know you do, Annie Doll,” He breathes sleepy. “You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen though.”

Ana chuckles, kissing the tip of her husband’s head as he drifts off to sleep. She can’t think of a better way to bring in the new year than Bucky feeling safe enough in her embrace to fall asleep, even with the ghosts that still haunt his past.

 POP!

Another firework glittering in the winter sky rips Ana out of her memories. She catches the small wince of broad shoulders.

“Hey guys,” Ana calls out to Rocket and Rhodey. “I don’t think the baby is fond of fireworks right now. Do you mind if you stop please?”

Rhodey acknowledges her meaningful look, beginning to replace the ones he took out. Rocket shrugs, turns off the machine they built with a wide grin.

“I just wanted to see if I could build it. I did, now I’m bored.” He states, then meets Ana’s eyes.

“How’s about we beat these losers at a game of poker?”

“Deal.”

Ana only lasts two rounds of poker, before Steve is helping her settle into bed. He insisted on following her and carrying her hot tea for her. She adjusts her body pillow and gets comfortable, tapping her hand over the lower part of her stomach where the baby settled with her.

“Thank you,” Steve says, pulling the comforter up for her. “For the fireworks. I know you did it for me.”

“Bucky and I,” Ana begins, pausing only to push past the lump in her throat. “We stayed at Tony’s cabin during the holidays. I don’t think he heard fireworks go off in a while, and out in the woods you aren’t allowed to bring them or set them off. Some neighbors did, and he was nervous about them. I calmed him as much as I could.”

“He never told me that,” Steve says, frowning. The look he gives Ana though, makes her feel bashful. His features soften, and he almost looks...happy. “He was always so in love with you, Ana, before he even knew it. Bucky wasn’t one to ever open up to anyone, even when we were kids. Watching him with you…I’m glad he found you.”

Ana sniffs, rubbing her eyes to stop the tears welling up from falling. The empty ache in her chest is a permanent feeling.

“Sorry, too much Bucky talk. You were having a better night, I shouldn’t ruin it.” Grabbing her hand, he gives it a firm squeeze.

“It’s alright. I just...didn’t want you to feel that same way.” She squeezes back.

“Get some sleep, Ana.”

As she relaxes, her body ready for said sleep, she says, “You too, Steve.”

It’s one of her better days; Ana sleeps through midnight, but the haunting call of her name still echoes through her mind. Her soul still screaming for its other half.

The week following the new year is slow, as if 2019 wants to remind them of half the universe gone. However, Ana’s panic slowly begins to build as she realizes there’s just over a month of the baby arriving.

She’s sitting in the room they decided to turn into a nursery -the room right next to hers- slowly stroking her hands over and over her round stomach. Looking around the room gives her mixed feelings.

A part of her seems to be happy, almost excited to be a mother. The other parts outweigh the joy, however. The bare walls, void of any decorations, makes her heart break. The dark wood of the crib and the changing table makes her seethe. The little animal mobile above the crib breaks her. The mobile hangs an orange fox, a gray owl, a brown bear, and a white wolf. 

Pushing herself off the rocking chair, Ana grabs the wolf and tears it off. The whole mobile comes down, crashing into the crib, but the wolf is clutched in her palm. She stares at it, anger boiling in her blood for reasons she can’t explain.

The harder she squeezes, the brighter her hand becomes. Flickering lights throw the room into shadows, over and over. Smoke is beginning to emit from the little wolf, her chest tightening as the edges singe. 

“I leave for, what, three weeks, and here you are literally starting fires in your hands.”

Ana snaps her head up. Carol Danvers is standing in front of her, amusement dancing in her eyes instead of any reprimandation. Carefully she places both of her hands over Ana’s fist, and all her raging energy subsides. She hadn’t been aware of anyone coming into the room, so focused on the white wolf.

Quickly pulling her hand out of Carol’s, Ana slowly uncurls her fingers. Sitting in the middle of her palm are the remains of the wolf, completely incinerated. Panicking, she drops it, the tiny ashes caught between her fingers.

“Oh my god,” Ana whispers, horrified at herself.

“Hey, Barnes, I’m sure it's fine,” Carol tells her gently. “They can get you another one.”

“You-you don’t understand,” Ana shakes her head frantically. Ash. Ashes on her hand, her fingers, ingrained in her skin. “I-I have to wash my hand. I have to wash my hand!”

“Come on.” 

Carol guides her out of the room, a steady hand on her back, and into the bathroom. Ana proceeds to scrub her right hand at least four times, and once again until her skin feels raw. She feels out of breath afterward, reaching for Carol once more.

“Can you take some deep breaths for me?” Carol coaches, helping her sit on the edge of the tub.

Ana huffs. “I’m trying. I-I can’t. No! Don’t touch me! What if…what if I hurt you? Like I hurt Steve?”

“Look at me, Ana. You are fine, you’re okay right now. You just got worked up and that’s okay.” Carol keeps firm eye contact. She attempts to hold her hands again, this time Ana allows her. “I won’t let anything happen to you. You aren’t going to hurt me or anyone else.”

Finally, Ana gets a deep breath in. She regulates her breathing with help from Carol, until she feels like her senses and energy are no longer overstimulated. Once she’s calm, they leave the bathroom and head outside to the bac deck at Ana’s request. The chill of the air clears her head more as she sinks into a chair. 

“It was a white wolf,” Ana tells Carol. Her silence is a cue to elaborate. “My husband...Bucky. He was given that moniker while he was recovering in Wakanda. He told me they sort of adopted, well, accepted him into their family, their culture. King T’Challa told me it also meant strong warrior.”

“That why you tore it off?” She guesses.

Ana shrugs, thinking it over. “I think I was already feeling too many emotions. I saw it, it reminded me of him and how- how everything in that room, we didn’t pick together. Hell, I barely picked anything in that room. I really appreciate Pepper and Nat setting it up, but we couldn’t do it together.”

Danvers remains quiet again, but Ana is grateful for it. She’s pretty good at reading how Ana is feeling, and her silent support is more appreciated than she knows. Ana’s energy always seems to stay dormant every time Carol is close. It’s something interesting to look into later.

“Where have you been?” Ana asks after some time.

During this time Steve found them after FRIDAY alerted him and gave her a thick blanket to keep warm. He stayed long enough to turn on the heaters, then left the women alone, but quietly thanked Carol in a nod Ana caught.

Carol sighs, slumping in her chair and propping her heels on the table. “Other planets. Some are worse from the repercussion of what that purple scrotum sack did. Been getting a lot of hits on my radar. I came back to bring you more elixir in case you needed it. And to check in on my favorite avenger.”

“M’not an avenger but Nat’s in the shooting range. Nebula is...I don’t know what she’s doing but I’m afraid to ask sometimes.”

She snorts. “So, should I not get you a stuffed wolf when the baby is born?”

Ana flicks her off, but Carol’s resounding laugh brings a smile to her face. 

*

When Pepper calls two days later, Ana can’t help but feel something odd about their conversation. As they chat about pregnancy, (”It’s like every ten minutes, Pep, I have to pee every ten minutes!”) Ana asking for any advice her cousin may for her upcoming labor, something continues to feel off. Especially when Pepper drops Tony’s name three times. The mention of him causes her to remember something about FRIDAY.

“Oh!” Ana perks up. “Has FRIDAY informed you of anything about me? Or to-”

A little voice pops up in the background, begging for a snack. “One second, sweetie,” Pepper says to her daughter, then back to Ana. “She just tells me your vitals sometimes.”

“That’s it? She doesn’t ask you for permission to use a security protocol?”

“I- Morgan, be patient please, I’m making it now. Sorry, Ana.”

“It’s fine. I was just wondering why T- um...FRIDAY would feel the need  to program an added feature.”

“What are you trying to ask?”

“I just...why would someone need to add an electric defense mechanism-”

“You know what?” Pepper cuts her off, exasperated. “I’m tired of being a go between. I have a toddler to raise who is currently trying to cut her own grapes, and I can’t deal with this right now. I love you, but if you want to know why, you need to ask him yourself.”

“Pep, what are you-”

“This riff between you two has gone on long enough. Talk to each other. I already have one child, I don’t need to raise two more. Speaking of which, you need to tell him. Here!”

“Wait, no!” Ana’s shout disturbs Rhodey from reading his book. 

He casts a curious glance her way. She frantically shakes her head, though Pepper can’t see her. Rhodey has now put down his book, mouthing an over dramatic what? Before she can let him know what is about to happen, it happens. There’s a shuffling on the other side of the line, followed by a confused yelp.

Quickly pressing the phone to her chest, she looks over at Rhodey in panic. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms; a sign of him agreeing with Pepper after he caught on. Taking a few calming breaths, Ana puts the phone back to her ear.

“-think the line went dead,” Is what she hears on the other side. Tony’s voice.

Heartbeat kicking up several notches, Ana braces herself. “I’m- I’m here.”

“Oh.” There’s a brief pause. “Hello.”

He sounds like he’s meeting a CEO of a company he dislikes. As if he would rather be anywhere else than speak with her.

“Hey, uh, hi. H-how are your day?” Ana cringes, wishing the ground would cave from under her. How are your day? Why is she so nervous to just speak with him!

“Good, great. If that was a question.” Tony answers, his voice is carefully calculated. “How are your day?” He repeats.

If she wasn’t feeling so guilty, so anxious, she may have laughed. Instead, she decides to get right to it. The sooner she tells him, the sooner she can end this painful phone call. “I have something to tell you.”

“Pepper mentioned.”

Right. Fuck, if she didn’t answer her phone, this wouldn’t be happening. Maybe Ana would have been fine with never telling Tony, and he would just have found out some other way. She just knows, deep down, how hurt he might possibly be.

She has never kept anything from Tony for as long as she knew him. With the way they left each other five months ago, well, telling him something he hadn’t known for this long could just drive the wedge between them even deeper.

Ana opens her mouth but all that comes out are tiny sounds of words dying on her tongue. She closes her mouth, eyes shifting to Rhodey, who nods encouragingly. Ana gathers herself once more, swallows her hurt and any pride she may have.

“Tony,” She finally says.

“Yep?” His response is quick; a tone Ana knows all too well. It’s the tone he uses to mask his own hurt.

“I-I should have told you sooner, but-” Inhale. Exhale. It shouldn’t be that hard to tell him this. Tony had been with her through some of the hardest events in her life. Suddenly not telling him feels like she insulted him personally.

“I’m pregnant.” 

The silence that stretches lasts so long, Ana has to check if the line went dead; it didn’t. “Tony?”

“How far? Five months?” Tony finally speaks up. He sounds distant.

“Eight.” The word comes out as a whisper. “I’m eight months along. 34 weeks.”

“Had an inkling. Do you want a congratulations?”

Ana feels like she was just slapped in the face. Tony doesn’t sound angry, just neutral, but even so, the words sting more than she ever thought they would. Her eyes prickle, her vision gets blurry. She clears her throat, turning her back on Rhodey so he doesn’t see her reaction.

“No, no, it’s fine. Just wanted you to know.”

“Girl, boy?” He asks.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Going old school, I see.”

“I just...I figured it was time to tell you,” Ana’s voice trembles. Her heart is aching, like she just ripped a band-aid from a gaping wound she forgot about. “I’ll let you-”

“Is it healthy?” Tony abruptly cuts her off. “Are…are you healthy?”

The question catches her off guard. “I- yeah. Um, there’s been some emotional stress and bed rest incidents, but otherwise, we’re healthy.”

“Good, good. That’s good. It’s late, you should go, rest.”

“Oh, okay.” Ana says weakly, feeling drained and disappointed. “Yeah. Um, have a good night.” She pulls the phone from her ear to hang up, then hears Tony call her name.

“Ana.”

She quickly holds the phone back up. “Yeah?”

“Will you let me- let us know? When it’s time?” 

Ana can’t be too sure, but she thinks she picks up a hint of hopefulness in his voice. “Yeah, I will. I’ll tell you.”

Another beat of silence passes. “G’night, kid.”

The nickname feels bittersweet, but maybe it’s a step in rekindling what she ruined of their relationship. “Goodnight, Stark.”

After she hangs up, a firm yet comforting hand squeezes her shoulder. “You good?” Rhodes checks.

Nodding, Ana shoots him something close to a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I just...I think I miss him. I do miss him.”

“You should have told him that. I know he misses you too.”

“Maybe...next time.”

Just those few minutes of that conversation has left Ana exhausted. She decides to take a nap, hoping that maybe sleeping will ease the ache on her chest.

*

Annie

Pain abruptly pulls Ana out of her sleep, ripping away from that dream world. She stares at the ceiling in confusion, wondering what exactly hurt enough to wake her up. Minutes pass, her eyes closing as she’s on the verge of falling asleep yet again, when the second wave hits.

“Oh fuck!” Ana yelps, her hands flying to her stomach. “F-F-FRIDAY, am I having a contraction?”

“I cannot be 100% accurate,” FRIDAY responds quickly. “I have alerted Agent Romanoff. There is a possibility of Braxton Hicks Contractions. I suggest changing positions and counting the minutes between each one.” 

Annie

A mixture of a sob and laugh escaped Ana’s lips, because of course she would hear his voice now as she hisses curses through her teeth. Oddly, the voice seems to calm her internal panic, through her pain. As she begins to sit up and shift, Natasha throws open the door. 

She’s talking but Ana can’t focus on her words just yet, too busy trying to lay on her side and fight through the contracting pressure. Thankfully, Nat helps her move and settle into a new position. Too long goes by, but finally the pain stops.

“Breathe, remember those exercises,” Natasha is telling her, rubbing her back. Ana adjusts her pillows, feeling utterly exhausted. “Do you know how long that was?”

“Two minutes and 24 seconds,” FRIDAY informs them. “Twenty minutes apart from the first one.”

“FRIDAY get Dr. Hammond on the phone please.”

“Already contacted.”

Ana just shuts her eyes, listening to the slight commotion around her. The baby moves, an elbow or foot clearly unhappy about the lack of space inside her uterus. She rubs her hand around her stomach, ignoring her fear of not being ready quite yet; it’s too early to give birth. Ana begins to wonder how Bucky would have handled this. 

Instead of feeling sad, a small smile spreads across her lips. Imagining someone like Bucky who was usually pretty calm and level-headed in most situations, his longtime soldier status the reason for that, would probably be panicking. Considering how he always acted any time Ana was in pain or discomfort.

“You look like a crazy person smiling like that.”

“Hasn’t anyone told you not to call a pregnant woman crazy?” Ana mumbles, cracking her eyes open to see Rocket smirking at her. “Are you so starved for entertainment you wanted to see what potential childbirth is like?”

Rocket shrugs, smirking. “Once I convinced some jerk the only way to smuggle his gun off Contraxia was to shove it up his ass. This isn’t as fun.”

A chuckle escapes her mouth, and suddenly the pressure she’s been feeling in her lower abdominal eases away. Ana heaves out a deep, long breath. Rocket’s smirk morphs into concern as he reaches out to gently pat the back of her hand. 

“Can I confess something?” She whispers to him. He steps closer, tilting his head down. “I’m not ready yet.”

Rocket leans closer. “If you want to know my opinion. I think you got this.”

Then he winks as if they’re conspiring. Ana reaches out to gently stroke his ear. Rocket looks shocked at the affectionate gesture, then he relaxes, smiling like he’s proud to make her feel better.

Natasha interrupts their moment. “Ana, Dr. Hammond is on the phone. She’s on the way but wants to talk to you if you can.”

Taking the phone with her doctor relaxes Ana further. Though when she explains the severity of the pain, Dr. Hammond suggests she have a bag ready in case she does have to go to the hospital. The doctor also requests that the AI to monitor her closely and send FRIDAYs system readings be sent to her On-Call phone, just in case.

Through the night, two more odd contractions occur. Although being irregular and far apart though not any less painful, one more call to the doctor has Ana cursing Braxton Hicks contractions. Natasha stays with her the whole time, and Steve lingers by the closed door for far too long.

Sighing, Ana demands sleepily. “Rogers, just come in already, my god.”

Sheepishly, Steve enters the room, and hunkers down at the end of her bed. Ana drifts off into the same world where Bucky is always waiting for her, always barely able to touch her. When she wakes up from the clouds of ash, she slowly turns over. The sight she’s met with makes the tears in her eyes dry up.

Apparently, during the night, everyone made their way into her room. Nebula, Rocket, Carol and Rhodes all sleeping around the bed or propped up against the wall or chair. Smiling, Ana falls back to sleep.

35 Weeks: January 22nd

Over the last three days, Ana has become lethargic. She’s just so tired all the time, despite sleeping for a few solid hours. Maybe the constant trips into that dream world with the little girl and Bucky leave drain her energy more than she ever thought it would. Maybe waking up, never able to save Bucky is taking its toll, and her heart, her soul just aches. She is just so tired.

Though being eight months pregnant and having false contractions probably has something to do with how exhausted she’s been. Ana has yet to tell anyone about her dreams, or how they leave her feeling just as empty as the day it happened. Informing anyone would just lead to more worry, have them doting on her more than they already do.

Steve constantly eyes her, a twitch in his corded muscles as if he is ready to jump into action for her. He thinks he is being covert; he isn’t. Ana can still read and pick up on feelings and energies. Natasha is more inconspicuous about it, rather she just lingers in any room Ana shows up in. Nebula has taken to just drop next to her, pulling out the deck of playing cards, her dark eyes keen if Ana just shifts wrong.

Rocket chats her ear off with stories of him and the Guardians. Most adventures leave Ana clutching her big round stomach in laughter. It’s the most she has laughed in months, and she swears the little raccoon does this because she admitted she was scared to him.

Rhodes has been pulled away for more government and military business, although he calls to check in everyday. Carol keeps offering the last bottle of elixir but when Ana refuses, she just gives her a cup of tea instead. With sneaking suspicion, Ana thinks the tea is laced with the elixir anyway.

As the winter sun begins to set, its light casts an orange glow through the windows, makes the whole area look warm. To Ana, it bares too much a resemblance to her dreams. She turns to head to bed early, leaving the haunting sight of the sunset to paint the interior with its mockery. Ana grabs the mug of tea Danvers left seeping for her, turning her back on the light.

With the twist of her hips, a sharp stabbing pain shoots through her stomach. Ana shouts, dropping the mug, shattering on the floor as she doubles over in pain. This clenched pressure is more severe than the other night, Ana can’t even straighten up. She clutches the counter for balance, panting and gritting her teeth.

 Annie.

 “Ana!?” Someone calls in fear.

Trying to regulate her breathing, the pain slowly eases up. Ana cautiously straightens up, but the second she does, another pain zings through her lower stomach. Her fingers grip the counter so hard, the granite cracks, gives, then crumbles under her vice grip.

Strong arms wrap around her, balancing her the best they can. Ana is vaguely aware she’s being moved, but through the blinding pain, there’s an internal fear of something hurting her baby. The pain, the agony, the hurt; something isn’t right.

“Ba- the -ba-by,” Ana stammers, chest heaving, hands now clutching her stomach. Beneath her palms, she feels the baby writhe. “Fuck! It- it’s hurting.”

“What? What’s hurting the baby?” Someone demands urgently. “Call 911! Or get the jet ready! Anything! Ana. Ana, honey, look at me, can you hear me?”

All she hears is a panicked tone, firm callous hands squeezing her elbows. The baby shifts, curling and twisting in her stomach. Ana wants to reach in and protect her child, their child, from whatever is causing this white-hot agony.

She won’t release her arms from around her stomach, she can’t respond to anyone’s worried calls. She just shuts her eyes, tears stinging before they escape. She’s panting, trying to breathe but the darkness around the searing pain is almost too seductive to resist.

Suddenly, the pain stops. Ana can finally breathe in and out, in and out. Once she can inhale without any more contractions, she can finally speak.

“Something is wrong,” She breathes out, fear clenching around her heart. “It doesn’t feel right.”

“Just continue to breathe like you are,” Natasha urges, her voice shaky. “If you’re able to make it to the quinn jet we can fly you to the hospital.”

Bracing herself on whoever is holding her, Ana grabs at their shoulders slowly standing up. Concerned blue eyes gaze down at her, roaming over her face for any other signs of pain. Steve lifts his hand to her forehead, pressing his knuckles against her skin.

“Shit, you’re burning up. Let’s go, I’ll carry you if you can’t walk.” Steve offers, about ready to do just that.

“No,” She heaves, wincing as a lesser contraction wrecks her. She waits until it eases up. “But-but- these are too close together.” Ana gasps then, looking down at her legs, her pants soaked. “My water just broke.” She whispers, terrified. “Steve, it’s too early.”

The way those blue eyes shift from his own fear to determination soothes her terror just a little. Steve and Natasha volunteer to go with her, though Carol insists she help bring Ana up to the launch pad. As they leave, a concerned Rocket waves, wishing her good luck.

“Have fun,” Nebula pipes up after Ana is nearly out of ear shot.

“Have fun?” Rocket deadpans.

Nebula just shrugs, her hands balled into tight fists.

**

Arriving at the nearest hospital only takes fifteen minutes by jet. By some mercy, Ana doesn’t have another contraction or pain during the flight. Once they get her a wheelchair though, another occurs. People are talking around her as she fights and breaths through the pressured pain entering the hospital.

“Who’s your obstetrician?”

“Uh,” Ana pants, pushing her sweaty hair out of her face. “Dr. Hammond.”

Thankfully, she doesn’t have to continue talking after that, as Dr. Hammond rushes through the doors of the floor they’re on. Grateful for Natasha taking over for filling out the remaining information needed.

“Is anyone coming in with you, Ana?” Dr. Hammond inquires, after speaking with some nurses. She looks between Steve and Natasha. 

The question catches her off guard. “No! No. I-” Ana chokes up, nearly breaking down with grief because Bucky isn’t here. She feels his absence, his death more than ever. “I can do it on my own.”

Those words seem to strike a chord with Steve. He abruptly moves in front of her, bending to her eye level. Fierce protectiveness shining in those blue eyes. Steve grips her hands hard enough for her to know.

“Ana,” He begins lowly, firmly. "You don't have-"

“I’m scared," She admits. Her bottom lip trembles as hot tears finally spill from her eyes. "I’m so scared. It’s too early. What if-“  

Hushing her gently, Steve carefully pushes back her damp hair. “I know, I know you’re scared right now. You can do this. I know you can. You are not alone. I’m with you, Natasha’s with you. We’re right here for you. You don’t have to do this alone if you don’t want to.”

Ana squeezes his hands as another mild contraction rolls through her. She hunches over, listening to Steve instruct her to breathe deeply. When it subsides, she looks up at him through tears.

“How can you be so sure?” She asks breathlessly.

He blinks, taking a second to realize what she means. Then his face softens. “Because you’re you. Because you’re the most determined, stubborn, and strong woman I know. You can do this. Then you get to meet your child after, and that is going to be amazing.”

Ana nods, trying her best to believe him. “Yeah, yeah you're right. I-I wish Pepper were here though.”

“We called her, she’s one her way.” Natasha pipes in, handing back the clipboard to the nurse.

"Nat,” Ana shudders out another deep breath as the baby wiggles around. Suddenly Steve’s words strike her deeper. “Will you stay with me?”

“I won’t leave your side.” Natasha promises fiercely.

Dr. Hammond jumps in then, informing Ana of a drug they’re going to give her to slow the labor, then run some tests. She instructs Natasha of a nurse coming out to bring her sanitary and protective gear for the delivery room when it’s time.

They wheel her towards another set of double doors, and that’s as far as Steve can follow for now. Before they go through, he bends over, placing a kiss on top of Ana’s head.

“You’re strong. You can do this. Everything is going to be fine. I promise.” Steve reminds her fervently.

Annie

A newfound strength enters her body. Ana can’t be certain if it was Steve giving her one last encouragement through her powers, or the voice in her ears.

*

Administering the drug does help slow Ana’s labor down, and thankfully she’s able to get the epidural put in. Steve is allowed to visit once she’s checked into her room and bed. Pepper gets delayed by a mild snowstorm but promises to be there as soon as she can.

Usually giving a drug to delay preterm labor to a soon to be mother works better, if the mother didn’t have a form of super soldier serum in her DNA. The drug wears off just nine hours later, as Ana found out as she awoke with more intense pains. Before she knows it, it’s time.

“Ready?” Dr. Hammond questions as she settles between Ana’s legs.

Frantically Ana shakes her head, scrambling to find Natasha’s hand. Nat grabs her hand with both of hers, leaning close to her head. It’s still too soon. What if something goes wrong? What if her powers act out? Oh god, what if baby doesn’t survive?

Natasha’s soothing voice in her ear encourages Ana as she pats the back of her hand. Listening to her words as the doctor and nurses prepare behind her propped-up feet, begins to calm Ana just a little. She swears she feels Nat’s steady, relaxed energy seep into her.

Instructions to push when necessary are relayed to Ana, but as she screams and shouts through gritted teeth and crushes Natasha’s hand, she has to. When the pushing starts, the lights in the room glow brighter. They begin to flicker, the room fading in and out of darkness. A golden hue shines around Natasha’s hands clasps over Ana’s. Her friend calling her name is slowly fading away, as she begins to fall under water.

Annie

She hears the muffled concerned voice of the doctor; something is wrong with the baby. Ana fights to stay awake. Fights to give her baby a chance because if Ana fades away now, will she take her child with her?

No. She refused to let that happen. Pushing with all her might, she channels what she has of her own energy through her blood, her body, to her child.

Annie

The voice beckons to her again. Over and over; a haunting echo of a lullaby. Ana stops fighting, allows the darkness of a faded loving caress to pull her in. She hears cries fill the room just as her world goes black.

 *

Stillness. Quiet. Serenity.

The absence of sound slowly pulls Ana up from the ground. As she stands there, her mind void of any thought, she stares ahead at the endless horizon. An invisible grip tugs from inside her chest, her feet moving of their own accord. She moves through the glassy sea, ripples spreading out with each step.

Blinking to awareness, Ana is face to face with a dark wooden door.

A small touch wraps around her left hand. Looking down, she sees that same little girl; her beautiful green skin, the markings on her cheeks, her red-brown hair. It’s her big eyes that gaze up at Ana that always reach into her heart. Ana closes her fingers around her little hand.

“Where am I?” Ana inquires, her voice quiet echo.

The child smiles. There’s something sad about it. “I think you know.”

Casting a glance around at the horizon of every way, she nods. “What is your name?”

The girl pauses, but only for a moment. “Gamora.” It’s then she releases her hand and steps back. “You aren’t here for me though. That’s okay. I can wait.”

Perplexed, Ana asks, “What do you mean?”

Without answering, Gamora holds her arm out to the door in front of them. Ana shifts her eyes to the door, and what awaits on the other side. When she looks to the little girl once more for guidance, Gamora is gone. She doesn’t ponder where she could have vanished to. Ana places her hands on the door, and pushes.

Warmth blooms from her chest, as if her soul ignites within. Her heart fills with hope, with love, and with terror. Ana has been met with this same sight before. Has felt these same feelings race through her veins every time she sleeps.

Bucky stands before her. Same ocean blue eyes, same soft expression, same little smile on his lips. He takes a step forward, lifting his right hand. Ana bites her lip, dreading for when they make contact, he will crumble into ash like always.

“Hi Annie,” Bucky speaks. His voice seeping into her bones.

Despite the inevitable pounding through her chest, Ana brings her own hand up. Slowly, she reaches for him, the warmth of his hand erases any fear. Bucky intertwines their fingers together, his smile widening. Ana moves closer, squeezing his knuckles. When Bucky remains solid and firm in front of her, tears fill her eyes.

“Bucky.” His name leaves her lips on a sob.

Her husband gently cups her cheek with his left hand, the cold of his metal palm sending goosebumps all over her skin. Ana presses her lips to his hand, holding onto to this moment for as long as she can. Bucky pulls his hand from hers, only to wrap his arm around her waist, tugging her to his chest. Ana grips him tight around his back, resting her ear directly over his heart that she can hear pounding in his chest.

“Are you real?” She murmurs, tears falling down her cheeks.

His soft chuckle rumbles through his chest. He leans back, delicately cups her cheek to pick her head up. Bucky connects their foreheads, eyes gazing affectionately into hers. His vibranium thumb sweeps along her cheekbone, wiping away her tears.

“I’ve always been real in your dreams, darling.”

Ana lifts her hand from his back to brush her fingers through his soft hair. “Is that what this is then? Just a dream?”

"Not exactly.” He laments with a sigh. Ana leans back, and the happiness in those beautiful eyes of his fade away. “I fear you may be here permanently if you don’t leave soon.”

“But I- I just got you back,” Ana frowns, shifting her hand from his thick hair to his cheek. The soft scruff of his beard tickles her palm. Bucky turns his head, kissing her palm. Her heat sinks then. “This isn’t real.”

Sadly, Bucky shakes his head. “This isn’t your world. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be selfish and just hold you a bit longer.”

Ana fully throws her arms around him in a vice grip, foolishly thinking if she can hold him tight enough, he can stay buried in her soul forever. His returning hug is just as hard, the pain from his grip just confusing her more. They move at the same time, finding each other’s mouth and placing a firm, desperate kiss to their lips.

“I need you to go back now, love,” Bucky gently urges, after he breaks their kiss.

“I don’t want to,” Ana cries, now clutching at his chest. “I need you.”

Bucky’s eyes suddenly fill with tears, falling over the edge and down his cheeks. For the first time Ana has ever entered this dream world, Bucky has never cried. She delicately wipes the wetness from his beautiful face. His smile breaks her heart.

“Someone else needs you now, Ana.” He tells her. Bucky kisses her forehead. “It’s time to go.”

Her chest tightens then, as if her soul is losing him all over again. Nodding as tears continue to fall, Ana wraps him up in her arms one last time, holding onto his warmth. She presses her right hand firmly over his chest, memorizing the rhythm of his heartbeat.

“I love you, Bucky. James, I-I love you so much,” Ana sobs.

Bucky runs his fingers through her hair, bringing the strands up to his mouth, before letting the hair fall back into place. “You’re my heart and soul, Ana. I love you.” He gently kisses her lips. When he pulls back once more, his blue eyes shine with pride. “She’s beautiful, by the way. Take care of her, Annie.”

“She?” Ana frowns, confused.

He places his hands on her chest. “Wake up.”

Then, Bucky fades into dust.

 *

Ana gasps.

"We got a pulse!” Someone shouts.

Ana blinks up at too bright lights, dazed, confused, abruptly cold. The commotion around her fades into the background as she slowly becomes aware of her surroundings. Her fingers scratch against stiff cotton, her damp skin making them feel too sensitive against her hands.

A dull pressure releases from her lower half, from her stomach perhaps? Her back? Her hips? Nope, it’s definitely soreness between her legs. She’s cold and sweaty, can now feel her hair sticking to her face. Her chest is heaving, her arms lifting as to reach for something.

“I don’t understand, her vitals stabilized quickly. They’re all normal, doctor.”

The minute the words break through the muffled barrier of whatever ocean she was under, is the minute she hears the crying. In a rush of sensory overload, everything crashes back to her.

Her baby. Ana just gave birth.

“Mrs. Barnes? Ana, can you hear me?” Dr. Hammond’s voice is speaking to her right.

Nodding frantically, Ana answers her hoarsely. “Y-yes. I’m fine. I-where’s my baby?”

Still a little unfocused, she misses when the nurses double check her vitals, and then, the wails of an infant come closer. Someone questions if it’s a good idea, doubts the steady condition she seems to be in. Whoever it was is shot down though, as blonde and red hair come into Ana’s vision.

“Thank, god,” Natasha breathes, her shoulder sagging. “You scared us.” She shakes her head, then smiles. “Would you like to meet your daughter now?”

Carefully, Natasha hands over a little bundle of a blanket, laying Ana’s baby on her chest. Hands works to gently tug down her gown and unwrap the blanket. It’s that first skin to skin contact, that first feel of her baby girl’s beating heart against her mother’s, that breaks Ana.

Ana cries, sobs, as she delicately holds her daughter against her chest. For the first time in a long time, her soul pulses with warmth.

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

Drabbles: Twenty-Three     Drabbles: Twenty-Five

(Note: Ana’s labor/birth is loosely based off of my sister-in-laws experience.)

Tags:  @thecreatiivecorner​​​ @buckyland​​​ @stressedasalways​​​ @watchoutforfrostbite​​​ @justreadingfics​​​ @keldachick​​​ @eurynome827​​​ @elatedmarvel​​​ @shesalatesh​​​ @paintedgreywriting​​​ ​​ @buckaroo-blue​​ @afewmarvelousthoughts​​ @crushedbyhyperbole​​ @shesalatesh​ @jaxthebookworm​

[doomsdaydicecascader]

:fire: pixel art in indie video games

there are so many angles to approach this one from. like okay this is a homestuck blog and i’m making a webcomic where i do art on a canvas meant to be viewed without any magnific8ion or up-scaling but for like. 3 years before this i was a full-time indie dev, and one of the things i took the most pride in was my pixel art - i still love doing pixel art but it’s hard to find places to put good pixel art into a homestuck comic. 

last year i put together a game for a game jam where i spent most of the time in the week i was working on environment art (@janederscore killed it on character animations) and the final score was, in terms of graphics, #5 out of 114 entries.

check out witch machine if you have the time, sound of the summer.

i’m personally really proud of this shot of the curtains in the dining room. 

all this to say, i feel like i’ve got a non-zero amount of skin in the game, with this ask. and the skin in the game is, i feel like pixel art is an EXTREMELY devalued medium, especially in the context of indie games, like. i can think of exactly one holistic pixel artist, where like, their work exists as its own thing and not as an extension of a game’s aesthetic, and that’s fucking paul robertson. 

you may know him as the guy who did all the pixel-pushing work in gravity falls - both giffany and the street fighter parody were his art. and that dude bites. that dude made graphic fan art of custer’s revenge, you know - the game that exists to be pointed at in gdc talks where the late-20s, early-30s dsa member says “we have to do better than this”. and they’re right, that game sucks. 

and even then, his work is only really holistic because the scott pilgrim game got fucking. unpersoned, and if it was still around he’d be the scott pilgrim game guy. even homestuck has homages to that dude’s work in it - eridan and sollux’s fight is in that exact style. 

thats a tangent but heres my feeling: the prevalence of pixel art in games is like a thing that has to be done in every other artistic medium, that is - you have to make a fucking choice, about what your game is, about what your narrative is. 

i wrote a whole blog post last year about what i was doing with the game i was working on at the time, box game, since i spent ages doing a pass on all the art in-game, redrawing things and reshaping them to be more visually coherent, less bad, and why i made those choices, and i stick by those to this day but here’s a less masturbatory example:

one of my favorite pixel art games, visually speaking, is space funeral. space funeral is a game about MOON, an artist who saw the CITY OF FORMS, a perfect city based on the platonic theory of forms and after being driven mad, destroyed it. over the course of the game, your goal is to defeat moon and restore the city of forms. 

at the beginning, phillip walks in weird ways, like the animator just drew some frames without really knowing how they fit together, the tiles are all given this black outline that’d be horrifying to ship, since there’s this pixel art concept known as “jaggies” - when drawing lines, there’s certain kinds of curves that you follow to create the illusion of curves and almost always, it’s on diagonals. 

the difference between these two lines is palpable, no? it effortlessly creates the illusion of amateur pixel art. also it is amateur pixel art, for as heady and interesting as thecatamites games can be i wouldnt put “pixel art quality” at the top of their merits. its still gr8 but you know. 

anyway, it starts out with this really comparatively desaturated look, using lots of neutral versions of colors. but........

as you approach the city of forms, it grows garish. the only colors that arent blown out are the yellow of leg horse and philip’s skin. as you approach moon, and restore the city of forms, restoring this “perfect model city” and restoring the world as it was known, the whole game’s aesthetic shifts again. 

to the RPG maker default tileset, something so thoroughly soulless that the only place you would ever see it in 2020 is in this context, a melancholy ending as the unique world you just spent the whole game exploring, is stamped out for a world that conforms to the very assets its packaged with by default. 

(youll also find them in hentai games on steam, where they bring out big bucks for busts of their buxom babes but barely break a babys bank over things like tilesets, though trying to talk truthfully about that seems thoroughly tedious) 

all this to say, i feel like you cant just have a take like “:fire: pixel art in indie games” because its like. “whats your opinion on art in comics”. “whats your opinion on acting in films”. its just a medium and there are good and bad examples of that medium and i think its kind of unfair to judge a medium by its terrarias when its also got games like deltarune, gato roboto, and hyper light drifter 

and again this is just in games, pixel art is a medium unto itself which is a whole other topic but i dunno how much i can get into that, just bc i dont have the experience

[queenofvestfold]

Birthday girl

Pairing : Harald x reader

Summary : you’re back in Kattegat, your childhood town but weren’t expected to meet the famous King Harald Finehair neither to fall in love with him so quickly...

Warnings : first time, explicit smut, non-protected sex (protect yourselves kids that’s important! -not in my writing though because there are no such things as STD’s in my kinky fantasy world, isn’t great?-)

This one is for my best friend, the sweetest Charlotte, happy birthday again mamour, you’ve waited a long time for this one! 

I’m french and english is not my first language -of course-, I think it’s the most important warning because mistakes can be found, so don’t hesitate to tell me about it! 

You were back in Kattegat for a few weeks now with your closest friend Lydveig in the city where you grew up with the many sons of Ragnar, especially with Björn, being the same age he was your best friend back in time.

Your friend was the daughter of a fisherman in Kattegat and you were glad that she was with you because she knew the city like the back of her hand and also everyone who lives there. Lydveig introduced you to everyone you needed to know. Organized an encounter with King Ragnar and Queen Aslaug, surprised you with your childhood best friend and all his brothers. She took you in the world you used to live in and it couldn’t have been better.

You were back for a month now and you started to enjoy your life here, some little habits were established, you helped Lydveig and her father in the fishing work, you got time to see Björn again laughing like you use to do and having some training sessions with him because “I don’t want my best friend to be powerless in front of an enemy!” 

You weren’t implied in the life of the town since you were just settling in but despite all of that Lydveig almost dragged you by force to a feast that was held that night in the Great Hall. All Kattegat was were to greet King Harald and his brother Halfdan, you sat next to your friend, who sat at the princes’ tables next to Björn. 

The hearty laughs and loud screaming increased as the doors slammed open for you to see two men with tattoos all over their faces approaching toward the table that you shared with the most important family of Kattegat. Your heart seems to miss a beat as your eyes fell on the older one, you couldn’t take your eyes off him, admiring his tattoos, that proud gleam dancing in his eyes, and his hair tied up in a bun. You understood rather quickly that he was the famous King Harald Finehair because of how acclaimed he was by everyone and more particularly by Ragnar and his sons. 

He must have felt that burning gaze on his body because after exchanging few words with Ragnar he looked in your direction, slightly bent his head with a warm smile. 

His behavior made you turned your head away quickly without controlling the blush that rises to your cheeks.

Trying to focus on something else you saw that there was an empty seat at your left Lydveig wasn’t next to you anymore as you caught a glimpse of conversation behind you. Harald’s brother had his arms around her waist “Did you missed me, love?” he said as she was unable to control her smile. When you saw this you couldn’t repressed the thought that creeps in your mind, maybe she could tell you more about Harald since she seems so fond of his brother. 

You tried to think of something else when Harald approached your side of the table and asked “Do you mind if I sit here?” pointing the empty sit on your right. “My brother and your friend are going to join us anyway”. You nod silently, swallowing hard. 

The rest of the evening went excellently, well, maybe a little too much. You and Harald talked until the end of the feast, about your lives, his raids and adventures and you secretly wished he wasn’t so nice because at least you wouldn’t fall in love with him. He was a king and you weren’t even a princess, you knew nothing could happen but you couldn’t control these butterflies in your stomach when he looked at you with his piercing eyes and would chuckle to something you said.

Days had past and you couldn’t get him out of your mind, and it wasn’t possible because you saw him everywhere. You would meet him at the market, on the shore, during your training sessions, in the Great Hall or even with Lydveig when she was with Halfdan. 

She knew something was up between the two of you, because she knew you too well and Halfdan had told her that his brother couldn’t stop babbling about the perfect woman he had met during the feast. This is why she tried to push you in Harald’s arms, even though you didn’t feel worthy of him. Lydveig told you that he always looked at you like he never looked at someone else, and that he was probably too shy to act on it since he didn’t know if you were attracted by him. 

To your despair, you couldn’t stop about what your best friend had told you that day, it haunted your thought night and day “What if she was right? What if maybe something could happen? What if...?” 

These were your only thoughts, this why a week after you didn’t understand what was happening when you woke up with Lydveig’s giggling and loud cheering.

“Come on birthday girl, today is your day, your only obligation is to wear this and join me in the Great Hall when the night will fall!” she said, throwing a pretty dress on your bed. 

The day passed without any unusual events, you went to your training session with Björn and Hvitserk who didn’t say a word about your birthday and went home to change after your exhausting afternoon.

When you arrived at the Great Hall you wondered why Lydveig had told you to come and wear this dress that was worthy of a real princess, you entered to find the room full of your friends and people of Kattegat with the tables full of delicious food. Sigurd was playing the lute on the stairs leading to Ragnar’s throne when Lydveig came to greet you. 

“I hope you’re enjoying your not so little present,” she said winking at you and grabbing your arm to guide you toward the head table where Harald, Halfdan, Björn and his brothers already were. They all came to hug and greet you wishing you all the best. As you search for a place to sit, your friend who sat on Björn’s lap pointed you the unique empty sit which appear to be next to Harald and shrugged innocently when you sent her an intense glare.

As the evening goes on, people started to dance on Sigurd’s joyful ballads, all the boys went to find a woman to invite and Halfdan just poked Harald teasingly, giving him a knowing look which embarrassed his older brother.

Harald finally extended you his hand with a soft smile that made your heart melt. You couldn’t tell for how many time you two danced together, but you were sure that the couple around you weren’t the same and that the place seemed quieter. 

After the dance you realized that almost everyone had left, people were either drunk or sleepy since it was quite late in the night and right now all you wanted was to talk to your best friend so she could give you bits of advice about this situation with Harald. 

You excused yourself for a moment and went to look for Lydveig but couldn’t find her anywhere in the Great Hall. You decided to join her in her room knowing she couldn’t be already asleep. You decide to enter without knocking and the sight in front you left you in utter shock Björn and Halfdan were sharing your bed in what seems to be not in the most platonic way. 

You closed the door quickly but silently only to meet Harald not so far in the corridor who came to see his brother “You saw things you were supposed to, am I right?” he chuckles, “You’ll get used to it, I’ve seen some indecent things too.”

Afterward, you two talked to one another in those corridors for hours as he continued to recount his adventures abroad, when a yawn stopped your laugh. 

Like the gentleman he is, he decided to accompany you to your room and bit you a goodnight, grazing his lips on the top of your hand.

Lost in the thought of how he behaved with you all evening and these past weeks you couldn’t control your hand which decided to caress tenderly his cheek by itself the moment his hand left yours. Drawing his tattoo with the tip of your finger and leaning to drop a soft kiss on his lips.

 “I am so sorry my King, I don’t know what I was thinking! Please, what can I do to apologize?” you asked realizing what you have done, you were sure it would be impossible to have a brighter shade of red on your check.

“Call me Harald would be a good start, and allow me to kiss you again if you want me too.” he chuckles and lean to kiss you but stop himself, his lips brushing yours waiting for your answer. 

You slipped your hands in his hair and pulled him to you, his lips now kissing yours in a passion you haven’t known before. The kiss started to became more and more heated and you were still in the corridor in plain sight. Just as you started to hear footsteps coming toward your corridor, he broke the kiss in haste, took your hand in his and led you hurriedly toward his guest room. 

As he closed the door behind you, he was instantly speaking “Don’t think I led you were to take advantage of you, I didn’t want anybody to see only to protect your…”

Your mouth was on his before he could end his sentence. 

You no longer hesitate when you saw how caring he was toward you, “Are you sure you really want this ?” he inquires, breathless.

“I want you more than anything Harald” you muttered while your hands rested on his chest. 

“Anything for the birthday girl then” he chuckles, carrying you in his arms toward the bed, laying you down while he took off his shirt.

You eagerly unfastened the lace of your dress, your hands being promptly replaced by his, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck and your cleavage. 

A few seconds after, your dress was on the floor, followed by his pants and your underwear, leaving you both fully naked in front of each other.

His hands roamed over your body in the most sensual and caring way, not wanting to be too harsh on you. He kissed every inch of your body, making you huff and moan softly, your hands were lost in his hair when his head disappeared between your legs. Licking and sucking your clit’ slowly, too painful slow, making you move your hips to get more friction, earning a glare from him “Eager thing, let me relish you like you deserve to be” he whispered, adding two fingers as he continues to please you with his tongue.

But you couldn’t take it anymore, you pushed him away and pull him up to your level.

“I need you now, just… don’t go too harsh on me, I’ve never…” you started, blushing immediately as he looked at you with the softest and tender gaze.

“I won’t, kitten, I promise. Let me take care of you,” he muttered in your ear, licking the side of your neck and biting it slightly to distract you as he guides himself inside you slowly and wait for you to adjust to his size. 

Making you whimper from the sudden intrusion, your walls clenching around him as you focused on him and not on the slight hint of pain. He never stopped his praising, even you told him that he could move. Telling you how beautiful you are, stunning when you’re moaning his name that way, how he could come just as the sight of you underneath him.

The room was filled with the noises of your skins, his loud grunts and your moans begging for more. You couldn’t think straight as he hit that spot inside you at every thrust making you see stars each time. 

“Come with me, kitten” he moaned as he couldn’t hold it anymore. He rubbed your clit’ at the same time, making a whimpering mess out of you as you both came undone at the time. Making you clenched your walls around him as he spilled his seed inside you with a throaty grunt.

He let himself fall next to you, trying to catch his breath as you laid your head upon his chest while his hands wandered lazily on your back.

“Do you think Kattegat had heard how pleased you are or should we make sure it’s really the case?” he asked with a false innocent smile and a wink.

[zankivich]

In My Blood: Wolf!Shawn x Black Reader: A coffee shop/baker AU

a/n: Look. I’ve been reading fanfic a long ass time. And I’ve been reading supernatural fanfic just about as long. And I dead ass have never in my 21 years encountered a story where the point of view, where the story, is centered on a black woman. So, we gone change that today. I am absolutely obsessed with this. It honestly started out pretty horrid, so I’m so happy she came together. I hope y’all like it! Let me know tbh. 

Trigger warnings: mentions of sexual situations, conversations regarding race/hint at police brutality, cussing

It rained the day you moved in. This would go on to become your new normal though so you thought you might as well get used to it. Moving to a new town was always hard. It helped a little bit that the town was so small, tucked quietly away in the midst of trees and general greenery, it was just extremely different from your norm. You’d been a doctor in a large city for a few years where the hustle and bustle of corporate medicine had taken its toll on you. You wanted an intimate setting of clientele, not squeezing people in just for the sake of money and greed. So, when you saw an ad looking to basically apprentice someone into their practice so they could retire, you took the leap and left.The nearest hospital was a bit of a drive, forty-five or so minutes into the city, so the clinic usually served most people for their day to day problems. It was perfect.

So, you packed up all of your shit and moved to this tiny town, the kind of town where people noticed when someone new arrived. It was also the kind of town where when the Black girl moved in with her shea butter and head scarfs, people might feel inclined to take pause. The good news was that you were unapologetic and quite ready to make yourself comfortable. One might say you were ready to take on the world.

One day when you were still settling in, but couldn’t take unpacking another box you went for a walk to try and get used to the new town around you. The first thing you stumbled upon was a cute little coffee shop with this beautiful image of a wolf as its logo. You quickly stepped inside. There were a few people sat around tables with their earbuds in typing away on laptops. The counter was large and took up most of the shop with a big display of baked treats sitting proudly beside the register. There was no line, but you could clearly see a guy cleaning up at one of the tables so you stepped towards to the display case to see if anything caught your eye.

“I’ll be with you in one moment!” He called moving so quickly he was practically a blur.

“Oh no worries, take your time.”

You were stuck between a chocolate croissant that looked like it was the size of your head and a cinnamon bun of equal proportion when he finally stepped up the counter.

“So sorry about that, what can I get you?”

You looked up and honest to god your heart must have skipped a beat. First of all your eyes went to the average height of any other human you’d ever talked to you, which barely cleared the abs of this ridiculous human being. And then there was the color in his cheeks which stood so starkly on his jagged jawline. His eyes were honey brown and he had these beautiful curls that seemed to take on a life of their own. He was absolutely beautiful. And huge. And warm looking in the apron that was slung around his waist. Honestly what the hell?

It didn’t help that he seemed to pause when he saw you too. As if anything you had going on could cause the kind of reaction this man was creating within you.

“Uhhhhh...H--Hello.” You stammered awkwardly, brain completely fried.

WORDS WORDS WHAT ARE WORDS?

“You’re new here.” He murmured teeth nipping at his bottom lip.

“Yea. I um I just moved into town over the weekend actually. I’m working at the clinic with Dr. Savage? I’ll be taking over for him eventually.”

He hummed and it was like windchimes.

“Ah, I didn’t know Dr. Savage had actually found someone. He certainly didn’t mention you.”

“Should he have?” You asked slightly confused.

“Oh, we just go way back. He’s a family friend, and really important to the community. I always stop in and bring him breakfast after the rush here.”

“Ah.”

He stared at you for a second and you stared back and it wasn’t awkward, but more charged, more like both of you wanted to say something that you couldn’t find the words for. Eventually he smiled and his teeth glinted sending your heart into another round of unsteady rhythms.

“I’m sorry. You must be waiting for me to actually do my job. What can I get you, honey?”

Jesus. Christ.

You smiled. “I think I was actually trying to figure out if I should try the chocolate croissant or the cinnamon roll. Which would you recommend?”

“Both.” He said instantly. “You should have both.”

You chuckled. “Please. They’re massive. I could never finish them.”

“You can take them home with you.”

“I could always just come back to try the other.”

“I’d rather you come back knowing what you want.” He murmured.

You paused for another moment, his statement seeming to be layered. There was also something about his eyes, so warm and inviting, that it was incredibly difficult to say no. You were a black woman after all, you’d been raised to say no. What was up this guy?

“Why don’t you go sit down and I’ll surprise you instead? Would you like a cup of coffee too?”

You nodded slowly. “Can you make a white mocha?”

“‘Course I can.” He grinned showing off his teeth once again.

You thought it best you just go sit down because you were beginning to feel lightheaded.

It was hard not to get swept up in his energy. He was wearing a white t-shirt that hung on his body beautifully. His shoulders were broad and twitched endlessly under the fabric as he shuffled around behind the counter. You suddenly wished you could draw or paint, because surely he was deserving of such a treatment.

When he stepped back up to your table his hands were completely full. He was balancing two plates in one palm and a massive cup of coffee on the other. You were starting to get the sense that portions weren’t really a thing here. You also couldn’t help but noticed that nothing looked too big when he was holding it in his hands. But nothing could have prepared you for him to set down your treats and then immediately plop a squat beside you.

“I want to see your first reaction. Everyone in town is old and comes here every day.” He smiled.

You swallowed. “Well I guess if you’re gonna join me for breakfast you could at least tell me your name.”

“I’m Shawn.” He chuckled reaching his oven mit sized hand out for yours.

“Y/n.”

His hand was warm. In fact he seemed to radiate heat like an oven. But, you couldn’t tell if that was you sweating like an idiot or if he just really was that warm. What a shit show.

“That’s a beautiful name. Now try your croissant, please?”

He gently nudged the plate forward until it bumped against your hand. You rolled your eyes playfully at him before pulling at the flaky bread with the chocolatey center and popping it square in your mouth. Holy fuck it was good. You thought that maybe it was hard to fuck up a croissant, but surely it had to be just as hard to make the best one. Your face must have shown how good it was because he smiled at you big and warm like. It was so incredibly rude.

“Wow, that is so fucking good!” You giggled.

“That means I’m doing my job well. Thank you, it makes me happy. You uh got a little something on your lip though.”

You frowned and licked quickly at your lips in the hopes of ridding the offending mark only for him to shake his head softly at you. It caused one of his curls to flop down in front of his face. Wow was he beautiful. You dipped your head down both to try and find the chocolate as well to not have to look him in the eyes anymore, and still you couldn’t get it. How pathetic.

“Here, c’mere.” He mumbled leaning forward in his chair.

His large palm caught your cheek in his hand as his thumb rubbed softly at your lip. He was warm. Warmer than warm and it made your heart beat loud and fast in your chest. Your lips parted and you felt air whoosh past them. You swore that his eyes got brighter in that moment, that they actually got more honey and less brown. It was incredible.

“I--I’m so sorry. That was really inappropriate of me.”

“No uh...you’re okay. Thank you for not letting me walk around all day with shit on my face.”

He chuckled softly so you did the same.

By the time you’re stuffed with various forms of sugary breads and he’s refilled your coffee twice, you realize that your plan to explore the town had much more turned into exploring the attractive man in the only coffee shop around apparently. You were reminded of your pact with yourself to absolutely not get into a relationship in your first year here. Not that Shawn would have any interest in you in a non-platonic way, but it did mean you probably shouldn’t get your hopes up. So, you politely got your leftover sweets put in a box and got out of there as soon as you could. When he asked if you would be back the next day you just shrugged your shoulders and told him maybe before practically running for the door. You had to stay away.

***

Your first day at the clinic finds you up at six in the morning. You wanted to give off a good impression, so you made coffee in this funky old coffee maker in the corner. You cleaned up some of the mess that had been lying around and even checked the email where it looked like Dr. Savage had struggled to get working. You managed to set him up a couple of social media accounts and even took his older logo of a wolf howling at the moon and updated it slightly using one of the random editing websites online.

By the time your boss arrived it had been quite a productive morning and you were happy to see his eyes light up at all that you accomplished.

“We’re gonna be a good fit, I think.” He said to you.

You agreed.

Before the open sign had even been flipped, the bell on the door clanged as someone entered the space. Dr. Savage rose slowly from his chair and went to check on it leaving you with a stack of paperwork to start thumbing through.

You hear the soft chatter of voices and then footsteps as your boss lead someone back to your area. At first you figured it was just a customer that had arrived a little to early, but it didn’t take long for you to pause at your desk as the familiar timbre hit your ear.

“Y/n, I have someone to introduce you to.” Dr. Savage called.

“Actually, I think we’ve already met.”

And there he is. It was raining outside, a near constant for the tiny town, leave his curls floppy and wet atop his head. This didn’t stop him from running his fingers through the strands and sending that dumb, perfectly straight smile at you now did it? You looked at Dr. Savage with what was sure to be a gaping mouth before peering back at Shawn. Bitch if you don’t get your shit together.

“H--Hello, Shawn. It’s nice to see you again.” You smiled.

He nodded. “You never came back to the shop. I thought maybe I’d made a bad first impression.”

“Actually you uh...you made quite a good one. I’ve just been trying to settle in a little more.”

And trying to stay far away from white boys with smiles like yours.

“Well that’s good at least. I’ve got a new recipe I’ve been meaning to try out. You’ll have to stop by and test it for me.”

Dr. Savage snickered and clapped his hand on the back of Shawn’s beautiful, burly shoulder.

“Stop flirting with my employee and come to my office will you? Y/n, if anyone rings can you handle it?”

Shawn’s cheeks took on a brilliant red hue that matched beautifully with his golden eyes. It softened him somehow. He was so big and so muscular, and yet you had the feeling that you could crawl into his arms and wouldn’t mind somehow. Shit.

“Of course. I’ve got it handled!”

Shawn smiled sheepishly at you before allowing Dr. Savage to pull him along to his office. You shook your head and turned back to your work wanting to to have all of the medications and tools ready for the appointments that you had coming in that day. It wasn’t even a minute later that someone was walking up behind you and placing a cup and box on the counter. You turned to look up into those warm eyes of his again with a smirk on his lips to match.

“White mocha and a cinnamon roll. I figured I might see you this morning so…”

“Oh Shawn you didn’t have to--”

“Wanted to. Good morning, honey.” He breathed before heading back to Dr. Savage’s office. “Let me know if it’s better than the croissant.”

With the door closed, you can finally focus on something other than the beautiful man from the coffee shop. Once you establish your rhythm, you’re able to send all of the reminder emails for the appointments for the week, schedule the few people who do call in, and organize the supply closet. When a client actually does come in, you help them with their paperwork, get it filed, and do the preliminary check ups and vitals. By the time Dr. savage is actually meant to see the patient, Shawn is already gone. There’s a tinge of disappointment when he’s not around, before you remembered that you weren’t in high school anymore and that you actually had a job to do. Idiot.

The rest of the day is busy with clients, paperwork, and billing. Dr. Savage doesn’t take his lunch break, so neither do you. By the time the sun had gone down you’re exhausted, and the two of you work smoothly side by side to clean the clinic for you to do it all over the next day.

“So uh...How do you know Shawn?” You murmured eyes completely on the broom you were sweeping with.

He chuckled softly. “I’ve known the kid since he was born. I’m what the town calls an elder. I know mostly everybody. I worked very closely with his father when he was elder as well.”

“Was an elder?”

“Yes. Shawn’s father actually passed away a few years ago. He was what you would have called our town leader. And with his absence, Shawn has had to step up to the plate. So I look after him to offer guidance. This isn’t exactly the sort of thing they provide you training on.”

“Hmm...well, why does Shawn have to take over the town? Like what if he didn’t want to?” You asked.

“It’s not really an option. It’s in his blood.”

That was odd. Suddenly you were seeing Shawn in a bit of a different light. He was no longer just the cute baker barista down the street. Apparently the expectations for him were far greater. He didn’t even look old enough to be a town leader. And the thought that he might not even have a choice did something strange in your heart. You felt...protective of him. There was this weird feeling in your stomach that you should fight Dr. Savage on what he’d said, that Shawn should get to do whatever the hell made him happy. And you didn’t know how to reconcile these thoughts with the fact that you’d only just met him. It didn't make any sense. None of this made any sense.

***

It was another dreary weekend. The clinic being closed meant that you had plenty of free time to fix up your new house. Because you had only moved clear across the country to be here, you didn’t exactly have furniture. So, armed with your rainboots and headwrap you braved the horrid weather in search for a desk and a new bed frame so that you might not have to sleep on a mattress on the floor anymore.

There was only one furniture store in town that happened to double as the all around convenience store for the town. You were hopeful that it wouldn’t be too expensive, as you were trying not to blow your entire savings. First, you headed straight for the beds peering inquisitively at the frames and trying to determine which would actually be better. Adulting for you often times meant bullshiting your way through situations, and you frankly had no clue what made for a good bed or not.

While you were searching you heard the rowdy laughter that typically came with testosterone. A chill ran down your spine as you were blasted back to the past of middle school boys tugging on your pigtails on the playground and running off in fits of giggles. This group was certainly not those middle school boys though. They were all huge. You peered curiously at them as they rough housed and pushed playfully at one another. Something had to be in the water in this town because every single one of them you saw was bigger than the next. A man with red hair shoulder checked another man with shoulder length brown hair sending him into a display of pillows and knocking a couple of the over onto this floor. This only caused the lot of them to laugh harder, and that’s when he stepped out.

“Can we try not to act like wild animals in the store please?!”

Shawn pushed through the crowd of them, everyone immediately straightening up as if a sergeant in the army was addressing them. It was like night and day, the difference. His command of them was quite frankly a little startling...and a lot hot.

“Bro, we kinda are?” The red haired one snickered, only to get playfully slapped upside the head by Shawn.

“Not funny jackass. You’re skating on thin ice for breaking the door to begin with. Now let’s get a new one and get the hell out of here.”

He was wearing a black long sleeved sweater that molded to his body like a fucking dream and smoothed down into black skinny jeans and matching boots. Where the hell did they find this guy at? Shawn reached for one of the pillows before standing up straight and immediately looking you dead in the eye. You were definitely caught staring. Nice.

“Go pick out the door, and I’ll meet you all the cash register.” He mumbled already making a beeline for you.

You peered down at your bright yellow rain boots and thermal leggings and cursed whatever thought you’d had that morning to be cozy. This man looked like a greek god on the cover of GQ and you were serving nothing but childishness.

“Hi.” He spoke warmly waving at you in a way that sort of clapped his hand together.

He stepped closer to you, leaning on one of the bedposts and pointing that wicked smile at you.

“I’m beginning to think this town might be too small, if I keep running into you like this.” You smirked.

“You don’t like running into me? I’m hurt.”

“I suppose I don’t mind it. Surely you must be getting tired of me though?”

He shook his head. “On the contrary, I think I don’t see you nearly enough.”

It had its intended effect. You giggled like a schoolgirl. Ugh.

“You getting a new bed?”

“Y--Yea. I uh actually just packed up and moved here with whatever could fit into my car, so I’m kind of in need of a few things at the moment.”

“Oh...So you’re sleeping on the floor right now?” He frowned suddenly leaning closer into your space.

You caught a whiff of what smelled like sandalwood, spice, and musk. It was incredibly intoxicating. Literally where did he come from?

“I have a mattress, but yes I guess you could say that.”

“We have to find you a bed. C’mere I think I know a good one.”

He grabbed your hand, you were starting to figure out that personal space wasn’t really a thing when you were six feet tall and built from steel, and quickly pulled you over to the neatly lined boxes of frames.

“Wait, Shawn. What about your friends? You don’t need to help me.”  

He shook his head. “Those guys will take forever to figure out what door we need. I’d rather spend it helping you. Trust me.”

There was a dark brown wooden frame that on the box looked pretty beautiful. Shawn picked it up gently with both hands as if it was nothing and presented it to you.

“When I broke mine a few months back this is the one I got. It’s really good. Sturdy.”

You peered up at him, because up was the only way to see his face, and probably gawked him. You didn’t want to know what he had been doing that caused his bed frame to break. However, a part of you wanted to know every detail. He seemed to pick up on the implications if the reddening in his cheeks was anything to go off of, and quickly laughed and tugged his curls more perfectly into place.

“N--Not like that. I uh it was an accident actually. I was moving the furniture around in my room and it just didn’t end well for me.” He smiled sheepishly. “But uh, this one’s real good. And since I’ve got one myself I could probably help you put it together.”

“Ah. So, you think I need a man to help me put my furniture together?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No. N--No! No that wasn’t what I meant all!”

He looked good flustered. The strong aggressiveness that he showed the group of guys from earlier was non-existent when he was stammering and looking so panicky. You absolutely adored it and couldn’t help the laugh that fell from your lips. He placed his hand to his heart and took a deep breath at your reaction.

“Geez you scared me . . . I like your laugh by the way. It’s beautiful.”

And just like that the power dynamic was flipped on its head as you were trying not to squeal and he was trying not to piss you off. It was quite the shit show.

“Thank you. I like your smile.” You admitted.

He beamed at you, eyes warm and full of nothing but kindness. You were struggling to remember why you shouldn’t ask him out immediately. He was sort of perfect. And it was just kind of obvious that he might be a little into you too.

“Thank you. I would love to help you put this together if you want that. Not because you need it, but just because I wish someone would’ve helped me put it together myself. And maybe I wouldn’t mind hanging out with you either.”

You bit your lip and peered down at your boots. As per the usual, you were quite grateful for your melanin, but it certainly came in handy when your cheeks were warming up at the sweetness he was laying on thick.

“I’m actually pretty useless when it comes to putting furniture together, so I guess I wouldn’t mind the company either.”

He smiled again, dipping his head to make eye contact with you.

“Yea?”

“Yea.”

He helps you find a desk and then has the audacity to carry them both to the cash register without breaking a sweat. You notice his group of friends eye the both of you as he not only waits for you to pay but then quickly follows you outside to help put them into the car. When the trunk it just barely closed and your backseat is full with your desk, he walks back around to your car and quickly produces his phone.

“So, I have a meeting with my friends back there and that damn door, but what if I came over this evening? Like around five? I don’t want you sleeping on the floor another night.”

“Tonight?” You checked. “Are you sure? We could always do another day.”

“Of course not. I’m free as soon as we’re done. Just text me your address and I’ll come help. I’m looking forward to it!”

“O--Okay.”

You exchanged numbers and he sent you a smile and a wink before walking away for you to hyperventilate in your car. Truly a shit show.

***

You nearly jumped when the knock on the door came. You’d been running around like a chicken with its head cut off for the last three hours trying to make sure your place wasn’t a complete and total mess. Shawn had made no indication that there would be any funny business or that he might try and make a move on you, but that didn't mean you weren’t interested in creating an environment that was conducive to just that. You weren’t consciously breaking your rule of not dating someone, however...if he wanted it bad enough? He could get it.

You opened the door and there he was wearing a t-shirt that left little to the imagination again. He leaned against the frame, teeth glinting for no damn reason and radiating warmth like no other.

“Hi.” He whispered eyes raking you up and down.

You had traded your leggings for some shorts that had shrunk in the dryer and a sweater that showed off your cleavage. Subtle enough to just be an outfit, but obvious enough for his eyes to take pause when he looked. You were, however, still wearing your headwrap that sat on the front of your head in a beautiful, intricate knot.

“I didn’t get to tell you earlier but uh...I really like your head scarf. It’s pretty.”

God this boy was trouble.

“Thank you. Please come in.”

There wasn’t much to show him in terms of your house. It was small and cozy with a pretty big layout. The living room took up much of the space, with your bedroom and bathroom past the tiny kitchen. He followed silently behind you as you pointed to the spaces around you, following way too closely behind if the heat on your back was anything to go off. God, you wanted him closer.

In the bedroom you worked to pull out all of the pieces. You didn’t even pretend that you could offer much besides organizing them in order of the letters in the manual. The best part was apparently watching Shawn struggle at something. As good as putting the frame together before had done for him, this time still did not come naturally. He spent at least twenty minutes with two metal frames in his large hands just squinting and huffing at them as he attempted to get them to fit together. It was incredibly adorable.

“So where are you from anyhow?” He asked still frowning at the pieces.

You grinned at him. “I’m from North Carolina. The better of the Carolinas. Born and raised.”

“Yea? And what made you wanna come to our tiny, rainy town?”

“I went to med school back home, and I worked in a big city for a few years. The pay was great obviously but..I don’t know I just felt like I was trying to get as many bodies in as possible just to make the hospital more money, and I didn’t really get to connect with my patients and take care of them holistically you know? So, when Dr. Savage said he was looking for someone to essentially take over his practice and provide care for a town where I would get to see people grow up and evolve, it just felt right. If I’m honest I think it was gut reaction. I kinda felt like something was tying me here before I even made my decision.”

He peered over at you and his eyes did that thing again where they seemed to get even lighter. The urge to reach out and touch him was nearly unstoppable in that moment.

“I think I know what you mean.”

It was another one of his weighted statements that you’d give anything to understand.

“What about you? Baker extraordinaire by day and it sounds like town leader by night?”

His back straightened at that and he quickly dropped eye contact with you.

“Who told you I was a town leader?”

“Dr. Savage did. He said that you might not have a choice. That it was in your blood.”

You were standing propped against your dresser and you couldn’t help but notice that his jaw got tight and and more pronounced beneath his perfect skin. It was similar to the way he had looked speaking to his friends earlier. There was a maturity and an intensity there that made his edges seem sharper. It wasn’t that he was intimidating necessarily, but that you knew he could be if he wanted to. Shawn had been so soft and so endlessly kind to you since you met that it was a little odd to see him not be that always.

“I shouldn’t have said anything.” You murmured playing awkwardly with your fingers. “Don’t be angry with Dr. Savage. I made him tell me. You can be angry with me.”

“I’m not angry. Hey, look at me.” He paused to wait for you to follow his directive. “I’m not angry. I just want you to know things about me from me, alright? This town can be very gossipy and it’s not always accurate. I just want you to know the things that matter.”

“Okay. So, tell me the things that matter.” You shrugged.

He smiled again and the edges softened out.

“What do you want to know honey?”

His favorite color was hunter green, although in the fall he could be persuaded to a mustard yellow. He liked to have cereal as his midnight snack when he couldn’t sleep. When he was a kid he tried to hop a fence and it left a gnarly scar on his abdomen. He liked reading books in bed. He started working in the coffee shop when he was twelve, and his favorite thing to bake was baklava because it was hard and it took a long time to make. The recipe was his mother’s and she’d had it passed down for generations.  

“I only make it for special occasions. We don’t even put it on the menu.” He explained.

“Maybe you could make it for me sometime. I don’t know if I’m special enough, but I’d love to try it.”

“Yea, maybe.”

Somehow, someway he gets the bed  together. And he helps you put the mattress into the frame. While you put the sheets back onto the bed he gets the desk put together too, which was arguably much easier. By the end you both collapse side by side on the bed peering over at each other as if you’d been doing extreme physical labor instead of simply putting a bed together.

“That was so much work.” You whined. “Thank you. I never would have gotten that damn thing put together.”

“I’m so glad I could be of service.” He chuckled. “Now you can rest a lot easier.”

“You have to let me thank you though. I’d cook dinner, but I don’t have all of my dishes yet. Do you want to order takeout?”

“Are you sure you want me to stay? I don’t want to intrude.”

“No I--I want you to stay. As long as you want to?”

“Yea. I’d love to.”

You stare at each other far too long. It’s not normal. You want to want to stop, but you don’t. And it doesn’t help that he keeps pointing those eyes of his at you and completely clouding your judgement. You physically have to get up off the bed to break the spell. It’s a bit ridiculous.

There’s chinese takeout and really shitty wine. You sit on your couch together side by side, both sitting crisscross applesauce though your legs look far more toddler like in comparison to his. You talk a lot. In all honesty small talk had always been your weak spot. You never knew what questions to act, how to respond, or how to behave. But, with Shawn it was different, which felt so cliche you could feel your ancestors rolling their eyes at you from above. You didn’t have to think super hard because you were genuinely curious about so many things. And he was more than willing to talk nonstop to you about them. And he asked you about your life, and what home was like, and what kind of music you listened to. On top of him being endlessly attractive, and this odd sort of pull that you felt towards him, you thought that he might be the first friend you’d made in town.

“I was so nervous about moving here.” You sighed when the wine had loosened your muscles and you were both leaning way to close into each other’s space.

His eyebrows furrowed in interested. “How come?”

“Well it’s not like this little town of yours is crawling with black people.” You snorted. “I don’t know my mother was always so protective of me and so nervous about what this world could do to me. When I decided to move, she just wanted to know that I would be taken care of. And I guess some of her worries rubbed off on me a little. It’s one thing to be the outsider because you’re new in town. It’s another to also be the outsider because no one looks like you.”

There was a frown on his face now. And you found that you didn’t like it. You liked him happy and soft and warm and nothing else. Your hand came off your glass before you’d even registered it and you almost touched his face to try and smooth out the lines. But, you quickly pulled away before it got that far. This didn’t stop him from somehow getting closer on the suddenly very small couch.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about here. I would never let anyone hurt you.” He murmured feverently.

You chuckled a little, head rolling back against the couch so that you could peer up at the ceiling.

“That’s sweet and idealistic. I don’t know if you noticed, but there aren’t exactly a lot of ‘knight in shining armor rescues the black girl from the cops’ type fairytales. It’s okay though. I’ll be okay. I can take care of myself.” You hummed.

You were still staring up at the ceiling when you heard him sigh and nestle himself deeper into the couch too.

“I keep forgetting that I can’t share everything yet.” He whispered to himself. “It’s not the right time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing, never mind.”

There’s silence for a little while except for the even pulls and pushes of you both breathing. Sleep starts to cloud the edges of your mind and you can’t be bothered to do anything that isn’t snuggling closer to Shawn’s warmth. He was like a walking blanket and campfire rolled into one, but with abs. The perfect sleeping companion. The last thing you heard him say before sleep took over was:

“I just want you to feel safe here. It’s all I want...you deserve to be taken care of.”

***

The next week is completely focused on work and getting settled into your new home. The morning after you and Shawn put the bed together, he had run off quick, fast, and in a hurry apparently late for some meeting. It didn’t offend you in anyway, although it was a little weird. You spent the day deep conditioning and doing laundry. Shawn didn’t text, so you didn’t either. It seemed as if things sort of hit a standstill.

Apparently Shawn still visited the clinic every morning to drop off breakfast and speak with Dr. Savage. Monday morning you missed him because Dr. Savage had asked you to take the bills to the post office. You came back to a breakfast sandwich and your white mocha with a note that said good morning honey. It seemed like a pattern was forming. But then, when you texted him thank you the response wasn’t anything more than a simple, “you’re welcome”. You were thoroughly convinced that it was something you said that night. And if you had to guess? It was definitely talking about race. You never censored yourself when it came to shit like that, cause if the guy you were hooking up with couldn’t handle it, you weren’t fucking interested.

By the time Wednesday rolled around you had told yourself that it didn’t matter. Just because you weren’t going to date didn’t mean you couldn’t play the field a little bit. And perhaps getting Shawn off your mind was exactly what you needed.

There was a bar in the heart of town that everyone seemed to go to. You thought maybe you could go out, drink a little, maybe make a friend or two. After work, when the sun had gone down, and all of your work for the day was done, you put on a pretty outfit of a long flowy skirt and an army green tank. You’d swept your hair up into a high bun and tied it with a pretty scarf to match.

Sally’s pub had obviously been there for years and years, but there was a clear attempt to keep it updated and modern, which worked lovely. There was a huge bar in the center that wrapped around the back of the building with an open floor for dancing, pool tables, and general hangout space. For a Wednesday night, the bar was pretty packed leading you to wondering if this was the place everyone went for fun.

You took a seat at the bar, ordered yourself a long island, and sat around to people watch. The good news was your bartender was pretty talkative and willing to take pity on you for the evening.

“Haven’t seen you around here before.” He said placing your glass in front of you. “I’m Cal.”

You grinned. “I’m new in town!”

“I wish I had a really funny joke to tie in John Mulaney, but alas I’m just a shitty bartender.”

He was the tall and burley type with copper like skin, but his shoulders and biceps were massive and his arms leaning on the counter took up a ridiculous amount of space. You took a deep sip of your long island and send him a smile.

“Well I don’t know about that, I’d say you’re at least a mediocre bartender!”

“Oh why thank you! That’s so sweet of you to say!” He chuckled. “Well since you’re new in town, I guess I can help fill you in on all the town gossip.”

“That’s awfully nice of you.”

He tells you about the different groups that are seated around the bar. There was a group of women that were the moms of town who tended to get a little more wasted than their husbands might like. There was the group of barely 21 year olds who tended to get a little rowdy sometimes, but were generally harmless. And then in the back of the bar by the pool table was the only group you didn’t want to see that night.

“That’s the town pack. They make sure everyone’s safe and what not.”

You saw the redhead first. Only because he was trying to smooth talk some girl who was watching one of the other guy’s play pool. Then there were all of the other guys from the furniture store strung about the booths drinking beer and joking around with each other. Shawn, for whatever reason, was nowhere to be found. Not that you cared. Cause you definitely didn’t care.

“Make sure everyone’s safe?”  You asked, eyes still on the group. “What do you mean?”

“Well it uh It used to Manny’s but, when he passed Shawn took it over. He’s always been an alpha, but having to take over younger than expected was a lot for him. He mentored all the rest of them when they turned, even though he was going through it ten times worse himself. Brian and Geoff are the betas. Matt, Zubin, and Sterling are all omegas. There are female betas and omegas too but they tend not to hang at the bar, just because the guys’ shenanigans typically bore them. It’s the largest pack for quite a ways away though, so they make sure nothing bad happens.”

You paused and took a look back down at your long island. You’d drinken about half of it, but surely you weren’t that much of a lightweight.

“I’m sorry? I think I’m not hearing you right.”

He simply raised an eyebrow and laughed at you.

“No one’s told you yet, huh?”

“Told me what?”

“Sweetheart, this is a werewolf town.”

It was actually the most ridiculous thing you’d ever heard in your life. You kept looking around for someone to pop out and tell you it was a joke, and yet no one came. He really expected you to believe that you’d somehow stumbled into some straight twilight shit.

You chuckled. “Okay sir. Sure.”

You brought your long island back to your lips to take a deep sip. As you were setting the glass down the door to bar opened and the whole crowd cheered exceptionally. Your bartender peered over towards the door and grinned down at you.

“And our alpha arrives.”

He practically glided along the floor shaking hands and clapping people on the back. Everyone knew him and everyone seemed to love him. And he smiled and spoke to them with all the grace of a natural born leader. It sure was nice to know that he could be nice and respond to someone. He was wearing a black t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and he looked absolutely delectable. It accomplished nothing but pissing you off.

“Can I get another one of these?” You mumbled knocking back the rest of your drink quickly and moving the glass back towards him.

He peered at you curiously before reaching for a larger glass.

“How about I make you something special to take the edge off?”

You nodded. “Yes. Absolutely. Sounds great.”

The bastard doesn’t even recognize you the whole time he’s making his rounds despite being the only black person in the bar. You make a mental note to down the whole drink and go the fuck home. If he was such a fancy hotshot why did you seem to see him literally everywhere?!

As Cal was making your drink though, Shawn finally made his way to the bar in search of a drink of his own.

“Hey Cal! How’s your mom doing?” He asked leaning on the edge of the bar in a way that made his arms bulge.

Ugh.

“Hey Shawn. She’s doing a lot better, her heart isn’t causing her as much trouble. She can actually walk around on her own now.” Cal smiled. “Let me finish up this drink here and I’ll get your IPA.”

“Hey thanks! Sounds good.”

Shawn was the on the opposite side of the bar, but the second Cal went to place your drink in front of you, his eyes went straight to you.

“This is what the mom’s usually order.” He explained as you took a sip of the bright pink concoction. “There’s some tequila, rum, rose, and cranberry juice. Enjoy responsibly and all that jazz.”

“Is this gonna land me on my ass?” You asked.

He simply smiled at you. “Only if you can’t handle your liquor.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying...drink up, sweetheart.”

You giggled a little and took another pull of the truly strong but delicious drink only to look up and see that Shawn’s eyes were still on you and now Cal.

You kept your eyes on your drink, but it was useless. The second he had his beer he was headed straight for you.

“Hi!” He cheered quickly popping a squat right next to you instead of going to his friends. “I’ve never seen you in here before.”

You rolled your eyes into your drink but threw him a tight lipped smile regardless.

“Yea, trying to make some new friends, I guess.”

He peered over at Cal who making a drink for someone else.

“I see that. You uh...you haven’t been at the clinic any of the times I’ve come in this week.”

“Well, I’ve been busy getting things prepared for Dr. Savage to retire so…”

“Oh. No, yea that makes sense. I just, you now, after that night you weren’t at the clinic on Monday morning. And then you didn’t text.”

“Neither did you.” You snorted.

Shawn took a pause then peering at you a little closer. You kept your eyes on your drink refusing to make eye contact. Subtlety wasn’t exactly your strong suit.

“Are you--Are you angry with me?” He asked.

You sniffed and shrugged, your shoulder so cold that the whole bar seemed to drop a few degrees.

“Look it’s no big deal alright? Whatever I thought was happening clearly isn’t happening. I’m a big girl I’ll get over it. I’m just not really interested in putting myself in a position to be toyed with.”

The whole time you had both been sitting facing the bar, knees tucked under the counter, but at your speech he turned so that his knees were facing you and turned your bar stool--way too easily one might say--so that yours faced his.

“What are you talking about? What have I done? Talk to me.”

His eyes were warm and inviting again, his jaw clenched just tightly enough to make it even more prominent. He wasn’t technically trying to invade your space, but he was so tall on the tiny bar stool that he kind of did anyway.

“You didn’t do anything. You practically sprinted out of my house the next morning and then radio silence? No text, no call, nothing. Like I said, it’s not a huge deal. I guess I just thought you were more interested than you are. That’s on me. I shouldn’t have shared so much of myself.”

You kept your eyes on your drink as you took one too many sips in the last five minutes. You were hoping he might get the hint and just get up and leave, because you were far more hurt than you’d let on. That night had meant a lot to you. You hadn’t felt so comfortable around anyone like that before. Shawn wasn’t just easy to talk to; he made you feel safe. He made you feel like anything that came out of your mouth was worthy of being listened to. You had almost thought that maybe all your worries about the move had been silly. He was the first person to really listen.

His hand on your knee brings you out of your thoughts and when you look up his eyes have turned more honey than brown once again.

“You think that I don’t like you? That I was leading you on?” He sputtered. “Y/n I’m crazy about you.”

“What?”

“I--I really did have to go that morning. I had a meeting with the guys, and I didn’t anticipate staying over so I had to rush because I overslept. I was going to text you, but a lot of shit has been going on lately. So, I thought I’d see you at the clinic that next morning! I brought your favorite breakfast and everything, but you weren’t there. I left a note, and I sort of thought you’d text me or something to hang out again but when all you said was thank you, I guess I got a little insecure. I just...I’ve been trying not to fuck this up because I think I like you more than you could even understand right now.” He sighed. “It looks like maybe I did just that though.”

“Wait, so you’re not like...intimidated because of the whole race thing?”

He shook his head. “Of course not. I couldn’t be more serious right now. I completely understood where you were coming from that night. I mean as much as I can as a white guy. That could never run me off. I promise you.”

You peered over at him trying to measure the level of bullshit he might be feeding you. The problem was his eyes were so soft and his face was so sincere. Even if you wanted to be mad at him, it felt like fighting something instinctual. It felt like something internal was telling you not to be mad at him. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

“Okay.” You sighed. “I believe you.”

“Good. Can we maybe start over? I’ve been meaning to ask you out on a proper date. We can just talk, get to know each other.”

“Sure uh..when did you have in mind?”

He grinned sheepishly. “Is now too soon?”

You snorted. “What about your friends over there? Haven’t they been waiting on you?”

Shawn peered over his shoulder at the group of guys up in the corner, but quickly shook his head.

“They’ll be fine. What do you say? Can I take you to dinner?”

His eyes were hopeful, a glint in them that was pulling you in deeper and deeper. How dare he.

“Fine. It’s probably for the best, I was starting to get a bit tipsy with this drink.”

He took your hand and led you away from the bar, a room full of eyes locked in on both of you. You got the feeling that walking around with Shawn was bound to come with attention whether you liked it or not.

You go to one of the diners in town, the meal completely irrelevant to the company. It is exactly as it was when he was at your apartment. He makes you laugh and he asks you questions about your life, your friends, your past relationships, the things that make you happy. You talk about your favorite books and his favorite books. You learn that he loves music and plays guitar. He told you of his first kiss at the eighth grade dance in middle school with Julia Potterman and how their braces clashed together. You told him of Andrew Jackson who grabbed your boob at your first dance because his older brothers told him to. You laugh and you laugh until the diner is ready to close.

“Can I walk you home?” He asked when the bill had been paid.

You nodded softly. “Of course.”

He takes your hand in his, fingers intertwined, and leads the way back to your house. You feel like you’re just floating along with his fingers keeping you tethered to the earth. It’s incredibly soft and sappy but you just can’t help it. When you get to the door, you don’t want him to go. And that’s when you know you’re in deep.

“I’d uh I’d invite you in, but I have work in the morning.” You murmured stepping up onto the front steps.

He smiled. “It’s okay. I understand. Maybe I could stop by at the clinic around lunch time. You know just in case you’re hungry and don’t want to eat alone.”

“Ah. You know I do hate eating alone.” You chuckled.

“Yea? Me too.”

You bite your lip and watch the way the street light catches his cheekbone perfectly. He tugs his curls back into place and it brings attention to both his face and his arms. He knew exactly what the hell he was doing. When he takes a step onto the first step, just one below the one you’re standing on, he’s suddenly leaning over you with those eyes of his and those fucking arms. You peer up at him and maybe you bat your eyelashes a little bit who’s keeping track. He leans down and skims his nose against yours, fingers trailing teasingly along your hips.

“Can I kiss you goodnight?” He whispered, voice husky.

“Mhm.”

Kissing him is heaven. It is ridiculous, the way he feels. His hands on your hip, and cupping your jaw cause sparks to shoot across your skin. And you only want to be closer, need to feel him more. Your arms thread around his neck, lipps molding perfectly to his. He has the audacity to bite playfully at your bottom lip causing you to gasp, lips parting just enough for his tongue to slide between. Your heart thuds unevenly in your chest. Who gave him the right to kiss like this?

His fingers bunched up in your skirt and before you knew it you were flying through the air as he lifted you like a piece of paper. You didn’t like to think of yourself as light. You had hips and thighs and an ass and none of these things came without the consequence of some lbs. If you hadn’t drooled at the prospect of him leaning like a greek god against your door way, him wrapping your thighs around his waist like you were a rag doll would certainly do it. Jesus.

Your back hits the front door and he’s not letting up, keeps dominating your mouth in a way no one else ever has before. You can feel your skirt riding up, can feel his hips pinning you to the hard wood of the door, and it’s simply too much for you to bare. You pull away with a gasp, and he honest to god growls against your neck. It causes a twitch in your stomach that cannot be started if it won’t be finished.

“God, your lips are incredible.” He whined breathing just as uneven as yours. “Wow.”

“That was...yea.”

You barely make it back into your home alive. Even getting out of his arms and to the door means nothing when he’s still pressing chaste kisses against your neck. He leaves you with his famous good night, honey before skipping off and leaving you to collapse just inside the door. Wow.

***

“So Mrs. Stenson will be in around three today. She’s been having knee troubles for a few years. It may be time for another cortisone shot.”

“Mhm.”

“And, if you could check her mobility as well as that would be wonderful.”

“Of course.”

“And if you wouldn’t mind kicking me in the face that would be great too.”

“Not a problem.”

“Y/n you are not even listening!”

You peered up from checking the door for the umpeetenth time in the past fifteen minutes to Dr. Savage staring at you like a crazy person. Woops.

“Sorry. So sorry. Mobility and cortisone for Stenson. I’ve got you!”

He raised an eyebrow and stared at you for a moment, making your cheeks feel warmer as a result.

“What is up with you?”

“N--Nothing!”

And just like that the bell over the door dinged as your lunch date and general mind fuck of the month walked in.

He wore a navy blue button up and black ray bans which was a stark departure from his usual t-shirts at the bakery. You found him even hotter than normal.

“Hi.” You murmured voice way too light and high for your liking.

He beamed back at you. “Hi.”

You were just sort of standing there smiling at each other like idiots when Dr. Savage figured he’d had enough of whatever was taking place in front of him.

“Shawn, may I have a word, please?” He asked.

Shawn nodded not even bothering to take his eyes off you. “I’ll be right back and then we’ll go okay?”

“Okay.”

You set your notes back at your desk, putting away all of the files that were still out from the morning. Then you spent some time in the mirror trying to make sure that you looked good enough for your lunch date. You wore a yellow sundress and play aimlessly with the straps that criss and crossed along your back. Eventually you went snooping wondering exactly what they were talking about.

“How much longer are you going to let this go on?!”

“I don’t know, alright? I just need to make sure. I need to know that it’s real! I don’t want to ruin her life, if it’s not real.”

“It’s not about any one life, Shawn; you know that. Your father taught you that all decisions need to be for the good of the town!”

“Don’t fucking tell me anything about my dad!” He yelled.

A few moments later the door bursts open and Shawn looks flustered and angry. It’s a new look for him, and it’s not one you enjoy seeing on him. Your heart ached to see him in a state of anything but happiness. And you couldn’t explain it, couldn’t make it make sense. You just needed for him to be okay.

When he sees you he makes quick work of taking your hand in his and leading you out of the clinic. You intertwined your fingers with his and leaned your head against his shoulder. By the time you had rounded the corner, he was already more calm than he had been when you found him.

“I’m sorry about losing my temper. I am usually in much better control I just...sometimes Dr. Savage likes to use his relationship with my dad against me to get me to do things I don’t want to do. It’s a sore subject.”

You nodded up at him giving his arm a squeeze.

“Well maybe you can tell me about him sometime. When you’re ready. If you’re ready.”

He peered down at you, eyes completely returning to their softest form. Your heart similarly turned to goo.

“How do you do that?” He sighed.

“Do what?”

“Make everything better.”

You just shrugged. “I don’t know. Just like you when you’re happy.”

He smiled and kissed your forehead. The audacity.

And so became the norm. Every morning Shawn came for his meeting with Dr. Savage to talk about townsfolk stuff, and he always brought you breakfast. Usually he stuck around long enough to make you giggle like a school girl unless you were real busy with work. At lunch time you went together to the diner, or went and ate packed lunches in the park if the weather was good enough. Dinner times were a hit or missed only because Shawn tended to get busy with whatever the hell he did at night, but he always stopped by when he could. And when he did, dinner usually got long forgotten when he pulled you to the couch to kiss for what felt like hours. Whatever it was, you were in it together.

***

A boy comes in. He’s fifteen, maybe sixteen at the oldest, and he’s absolutely sweating buckets with apparently muscle pains from hell. You take his temperature and it’s a hundred and four degrees. You’re ready to get him into an ice bath until Dr. Savage comes into the room. He gives him a glance over and isn’t nearly as concerned as you are.

“How long has the fever set in?” He asked.

Eric winced on the table. “Since yesterday.”

Dr. Savage nodded and grabbed his pad of paper to write something down.

“Eric, listen to me. You need to go home and get some rest. This fever will break in a day or two. When that happens you’re going to want to call this number, okay? You’re going to have a lot of questions, and this is the person who can answer them. It’s going to be alright, son.”

As Dr. Savage was walking around the room to grab the paperwork you couldn't help but notice that the phone number written down on the sheet of paper looked oddly familiar. The problem was it was 2019 and who the hell had time to memorize phone numbers? But, you could have sworn you had seen it before somewhere.

When Dr. Savage came back and the boy had left, you refused to stay silent.

“Doctor...why would you send that boy home without even a prescription for ibuprofen? He had a serious fever.”

“We see that in our boys here at his age all the time. It’s just the sign of his changing. He knew it too, that’s why he came here. I do greatly appreciate your concern, but I assure you he’ll be fine.”

“His changing? Doctor are you trying to convince me that his fever is due to puberty?”

“You’ll understand in due time. I promise.”

It was so incredibly weird. You didn’t know what to make of any of it. Who the mysterious number was. Why Dr. Savage seemed to be keeping you in the dark. What the hell any of what he said actually meant. Whatever it was, he certainly wasn’t going to give you any answers. You made a deal with yourself that you’d reach out to Eric yourself after seventy-two hours. But, it wasn’t even a full two days later that you saw him, at Shawn’s shop no less while you were grabbing breakfast for you and Dr. Savage. He seemed absolutely fine. He was cleaning dishes from the tables and taking them back to the kitchen area. The fever had completely broken. It was strangest thing in the world, although somehow not strange enough to confront anyone over. It just become one of those things you thought about at night. Nothing more, nothing less. When a few more of the town’s boys came in with similar symptoms the exact same thing happened. One second they were in agony and the next they were fine. You had no clue of what to make of it.

***

He texted you on a Saturday to put on your rain boots because he was taking you for an adventure. You had to tell him that you weren’t interested in any white nonsense, before he was able to convince you to go with, “i promise to keep the white nonsense to a minimum, honey”. Your kind of man.

“Where are we going?” You asked as he waved your intertwined hands back and forth in the space between you.

He smiled. “I’m taking you to my happy place.”

His happy place was the farmer’s market in the city outside of town limits. The rain was a fine mist that day and Shawn wasn’t even wearing a jacket. His body just seemed to radiate heat unlike anything you’d ever seen before. You found it difficult to complain when he wrapped his arm around you beneath the umbrella you were sporting.

The people there knew him by name. He took you to all his favorite little booths which were mostly the fruits.

“I like trying to find new ways to make different baked goods for the shop. My dad used to bring me here as a kid and every recipe I’ve ever made comes from here.” He explained.

You watched him move around, towering over everyone he came in contact with. The large apples, grape fruits, oranges etc. all looked miniature in his hands. But when he was holding a strawberry to your lips and looking at you with nothing but joy while you ate, he couldn’t have seemed softer to you. He was kind of perfect.

“So...What do you want to eat? Pick anything.” He said arm waving out over the sea of people selling their own produce and other foods.

“What do you mean?”

“I figured we could come here, buy some ingredients, and I could cook for you. Or, we could cook together. Whatever you want.”

Wow.

“Where in the hell did you come from?” You sighed wrapping your arms around his waist in content.

He leaned to kiss you and smiled softly.

“Didn't you hear? I was made for you.”

***

“What do you want to do tomorrow?” He asked head nestled softly against your stomach as you lied in bed.

“Tomorrow is deep condition day.”

“Deep condition day?”

He lifted his himself up so that he was half on top of you, eyes as honey brown as could be. Damn you were so soft on him already. Just looking at him made you smile.

“It’s gonna take all day?” He frowned.

You giggled. “Yes, baby it takes all day. This here is a project. That’s why we don’t let you random white folk put your dry ass hands in it.”

He seemed to take that and ponder it for a second. Shawn had already grown used to your satin caps and satin pillows and tied scarves. He took it all in stride, was just as willing to ask questions and to understand as he was to just let you be yourself. It meant all the world to you.

“Hmmm...well can this random white folk hang out with you while you do it? I promise to keep my dry ass hands to myself.” He grinned.

“Hey now… I never said you had to keep your hand to yourself, just keep them out of my hair.”

“Ahhh. So, can I put my hands...here?” He murmured letting his fingers meld to the curve of your jaw.

“Yes.” You hummed.

“And can I put my hands...here?” He asked letting his hands run down to the curve of your hips.

“Uh huh.”

“And can I…” He whispered face leaning closer and closer towards yours.

You never let him finish before sliding your lips together.

Sure enough, the next day, instead of leaving only after having prepared you an adorable breakfast, Shawn followed you to the bathroom. His long legs stretched out against the length of the bathroom watching as you let the cold water seep deep into your curls before the host of products began to enter. He watched you condition, comb, and dentangle every strand before applying the deep conditioner that would sit for the vast majority of the day.

When the conditioner was in, and you’d covered your plastic bag egg head with a cap, you spend the entire day watching netflix crime documentaries and making out on the couch. It was the best deep condition day you’d had in months.

He let you lie on his chest and he traced shapes into your back underneath your t-shirt. He told you how good your hair smelled and sometimes when a drop of water would run down your neck he would chase it away with his thumb. It never ceased to make your body run hot.

When you finally went to rinse, Shawn ordered dinner for the two of you. You sat on the couch in one of his t-shirts, and slowly detangled and two-strand twisted your hair. By the time dinner arrived, you felt soft and warm and kind of obsessed with him. You couldn’t even think about food. You just wanted to be near him, just wanted to touch him.  

“Thank you for spending today with me.” You murmured. “Not a lot of men want to sit around all day just watching a girl deep condition.”

He smiled at you. “I just want to be with you, y/n. Doesn’t matter to me what we do.”

“Yea?”

“Yea.”

You rolled your eyes and snuggled deeper into his arms.

“Where is the hell did you come from?” You whispered not sure who you were asking in all honesty.

“I was right here waiting for you. What took you so long?” He murmured.

Wow.

***

You had started to learn about each other’s bodies. His lips mapped whole stories across your body, made your breathing uneven and your thighs tighten. He never took it further than that, but he did let you rile him up. And riling him up turned into your favorite pastime. When your teeth would graze his earlobe and that growl would rumble in his chest, fingers tightening on your body in the most delicious of ways, it would send you to this ultimate buildup of a moment only for him to suddenly decide that he needed to go. At first it was fine, but the more he kept building you up and leaving you hot and cold, the more you began to get a little bit frustrated.

It was a Saturday night, and Shawn was going to spend the night, so you had taken full advantage of straddling him on the couch. You’d been hoping on pushing the envelope a little more, but the second your fingers edged underneath his shirt, his hands came to wrap around your wrists.

“Babe.” He whined eyes closing. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

You wiggled your hips slightly above where he was poking your ass through your shorts.

“I think I get the hint.” You chuckled. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” He hummed thumbs rubbing softly along your hips.

“Well it’s just that...I think you’re attracted to me.”

He smirked, eyes running up and down your body.

“Yea.”

“And I’m attracted to you. And I don’t want to be too forward, if you have like a policy or something. Cause like if you do, that’s totally fine! I mean your body, your rules. You deserve autonomy ya know?”

“Baby?” He murmured squeezing you playfully. “You’re rambling.”

“Ah yes . . . Why aren’t we--do you like not want to?” You huffed and took a deep breath. “We haven’t had sex yet.”

“Oh.”

You winced. “Well it--it’s not a huge deal. It’s just been almost two months. And while it has been a wonderfully refreshing to not have someone trying to get into my pants on the first date...I guess I’m kind of trying to get into yours now.”

He stared at you with conflicted eyes like he sometimes did. There was something brewing under the surface, you just didn’t know what. The more you were around Shawn though, the more you became able to read him. Sometimes you got more out of what he didn’t say than what he did.

“I uh... I don’t know what to say.”

“Do you...maybe you’re not attracted me to in that way?”

His eyes widened. “Not even remotely. Trust me. I want to.”

You stared at him in complete and utter confusion. You were trying to understand and take his word for it, but none of this was matching up. Things with Shawn rarely did.

“You know sometimes you say things to me that don’t add up, and just expect me to believe them? It’s getting harder and harder to do that.”

You climbed off of his lap needing a little distance between the two of you. It wasn’t the thought of him not wanting to. If he genuinely had a reason that is. Sometimes it just felt like Shawn was flirting with the line of lying to you, as if he was purposely keeping important details for himself. You hated it. It drove you up a wall.

“Hey...I’m just--I’m trying not to hurt you y/n.”

You rolled your eyes. “Boy please. What exactly do you think you’ve got in your pants that is going to hurt me? Try again.”

“You don’t understand!”

“Then make me understand, Shawn! The coded riddles and town secrets shit is getting old.”

“I--I can’t. It’s not time yet.”

“See that is exactly the shit I’m talking about. Time for what? Why are you always acting so shady?”

He groaned and crossed the room reaching for your hands to pull you close. His forehead pressed against yours, and he smelled so incredibly good. You couldn’t deny that there was something drawing you to him, that there was a part of you that wanted him in ways that you yet to understand. But, you hadn’t gotten through life thus far letting people mistake your kindness and your heart for naivety and you certainly weren’t about to start now.

“Please just...give me some time.” He whispered against your lips. “I don’t want to rush this.”

“Fine. Take all the time you need. But, I can’t sit here and be lied to and played with while the whole fucking town seems to be in on the joke.”

“Y/n that’s not--”

“I think you should go.” You cut him off pulling your hands away. “I want you to go.”

He stared at you with hurt in his eyes and you had to stave off the instinct of reaching out and making it all better for him. You had to decide that you deserved before all else. It was the only way you’d been able to survive thus far.

***

Shawn: What are you doing tonight?

y/n: Minding my business.

Shawn: I want you to come over tonight. To my place. I’m gonna tell you the truth.

Shawn: I miss you

You paused peering down at your phone. It had been over a week since you’d asked Shawn to leave your apartment. It hadn’t exactly been radio silence, since he’d been trying to get in contact with all week, but you weren’t really interested in the half assed excuses anymore. You had planned to wait until he was ready to tell you the truth. You just weren’t prepared for him to cave that quickly.

y/n: no more bullshit?

Shawn: no more bullshit. Please come.

He sent you the address and another plea to show up. You weren’t quite sure what was leaning you towards going. There wasn’t exactly anything that pointed towards him suddenly being honest with you. The problem was you were kind of falling for this asshole, and so wanting to be realistic and wanting to be with him weren’t  lining up.

The house you pulled up to was far larger than anything you’d seen in the town thus far. It was nestled in the woods, all dark mahogany walls and big wide windows. It was big even by your standards, let alone for small town baker. You parked the car and headed for the front door where he seemed to be already waiting for you. He opened it and you could feel the nerves rolling off of him in waves. There was almost a sadness about him to. A sadness that had you stepping far closer to him than you should have.

“What’s wrong?”

He shook his head softly. “Nothing yet. Come in.”

He led you straight to a kitchen that was wide and vast just like everything about this place. You made a note to ask him about that later. Also, in the kitchen were the two guys from the bar: Brian and Geoff. Suddenly it was three on one and the atmosphere in the room had you stopping in your tracks.

“What’s going on?” You asked refusing to take another step forward.

“This is Brian and Geoff. They’re just here to make sure everything goes okay.”

“That sounds like exactly what the killer says in the movie where my black ass gets the ax.”

Shawn sighed and stepped closer to you.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think about how intimidating this might be. I’m just trying to make this go as smoothly as possible. No one is going to hurt you okay? I promise you.” He murmured feverently. “Trust me.”

“Christ, Shawn. Just tell me what you were going to tell me.”

He nodded and paced quickly around the kitchen before settling in front of you once again.

“Remember those cases you started having with the teen aged boys who were breaking out into sweats and muscle pains?”

“Yea. Dr. Savage said it was just them changing or something.”

“Exactly! And remember how he told you that I was the town leader and how I had to step up after my dad died?”

You nodded. “What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

“It has everything to do with it, y/n. Everything! I’m--I’m not just some town leader okay? People don’t just say hi to me when we’re walking around town because of who I am, but because of what I am.”

“Well what are you?” You asked, more confused than ever.

“I’m . . .I’m a wolf. My dad used to be the leader of this town, and my family is a long lineage of alphas. I’m not a town leader, I’m a pack leader.”

Time seems to hit a standstill as you stare at him. There’s a whole lot of emotions that flicker through you in rapid cession. Shock. Confusion. Acceptance. Anger.

“And that is my cue to leave.” You snorted turning for the door.

“Y/n I am telling you the truth!”

You turned on him rage coiling deep in your stomach.

“Did you put Cal up to this too? What the hell is the matter with you Shawn?! I mean why, why are you playing with me like this?”

“I can prove it!”

“Excuse me?”

“I can prove to you, that I’m a wolf.”

You simply did not have the time or the patience to continued to be toyed with. Shawn wasn’t taking no for an answer and proceeded to tug his shirt over his head.

“Okay what in the Black baby Jesus are you doing?!” You groaned as he began to work on his belt.

“I like this outfit. I don’t want it to get ruined.”

You peered over at his friends who were now just peering over in amusement.

“Are you aware that your friend is crazy?”

“Why yes, we absolutely are.” Brian snorted. “But jackass is actually telling the truth.”

“Turn around. It’s not actually all the pretty.” Shawn mumbled as he got rid of his jeans.

“Which part, you turning into a big dog, or you taking your underwear off?”

Geoff laughed. “Wait, I like her. Where have you been hiding her at?”

“Not now, assholes! Will you please, please just turn around?”

Your rolled your eyes as far back into your head as humanly possible before turning your back to the man who you’d thought you were falling in love with, but who was turning out to be almost certainly off his fucking rocker. You were about to start throwing out more snarky comments when the most horrendous sounds began to occur. It gave you the more visceral reminder of the time you had broken your arm by falling off your bike, the bone scraping so graphically against the concrete that your stomach lurched just thinking about it. But this was somehow worse. This sounded like bone scraping against bone, joints popping in and out. You wanted to turn, but something inside of you kept you frozen exactly where you stood.

The next thing that you registered was something pushing gently against your back. And when you turned, oh so hesitant, sure enough behind you was a fucking wolf. A huge, up to your chest, head the size of your body, fucking wolf. You still couldn’t believe it. You blinked over and over again willing for it to change. Everything in your life had been so straight and narrow for so long. Elementary school. Middle school. High School. College. Med school. Simple cause and effect. Every illness had a response, had something that you could offer it. Logic had always been your MO. But this. What the hell was this?

“I don’t…I don’t understand.” You whispered.

The wolf nudged its head against your stomach and wined paw reaching up to slap at your waist. He nearly knocked you over. You let your fingers slide through his fur, hair incredibly thick and lucious. When he leaned up on his legs you could see his eyes and that was what got you. Even in his wolf state, those eyes were unmistakably Shawn. They were warm and brown, the shade of honey much brighter. It was him though. That was your Shawn.

“Holy shit.” You gasped. “It’s really fucking you, isn’t it?”

He barked and nuzzled his head deeper into your arms.

Holy fucking shit.

Suddenly he was out of your arms and stepping back around to the other side of the kitchen. He barked at Brian and Geoff who easily translated.

“He’s gonna change back now. He wants you to wait for him in the living room, if you’re not too afraid.”

You weren’t sure that you would’ve made it to your car if you wanted to. You felt like your legs might give out any moment. It was a struggle even to make it to the couch. The whole time, you were trying to rationalize what your eyes had just seen, and trying to figure out how to make the puzzles pieces to fit together. There was a fear that maybe there was no logic to be had in this scenario. Perhaps the most logical answer, was the one that made the least sense in your head.

Shawn stepped into the room a few minutes later in nothing but a pair of sweats. Geoff and Brian were nowhere to be seen anymore, but that didn’t stop him from taking slow and deliberate steps towards you with his hands raised.

“Are you afraid of me?” He asked.

You stared at him trying to reconcile how his large body could be even bigger, and furrier to boot. It just was unbelievable.

“I...I don’t know.” You mumbled. “I don’t know about anything anymore.”

He sat on the couch, keeping an entire cushions distance from you.

“The reason that I had Brian and Geoff there was because...I don’t want you to be afraid. I guess in hindsight I didn’t think about how three random white guys might be all the more intimidating. I--I wanted you to feel safe. And I wanted them to be in their human forms just in case. I’m so sorry y/n. I wanted to do this all differently, but I couldn’t lose you. I’ve been trying to fight my instincts to satisfy, to do whatever you need for days, and it’s been killing me. I needed to do whatever would make you happy.”

“Holy shit, this is really happening, isn’t it?” You chuckled humorlessly letting your face fall into your hands.

“It is. But uh...you’ve got some choices to make so unfortunately there’s more.”

All you could do was groan.

“How could there possibly be more? If you tell me there are vampires walking around too, I’m having myself admitted.”

“Not exactly.” He chuckled dryly. “You’ve been feeling something since we met right? There’s a--a pull between us. It feels instinctual. Maybe you have a sense for what I’m feeling without me ever having to say it. You uh might feel the need to do whatever would make me happy, even when it’s not within your control.”

You raised an eyebrow but nodded.

“Yea. How did you know?”

“It’s not a coincidence. You and I...We’re mates.”

“We’re what now?”

“Mates. It’s sort of means we were created for each other. Like destiny or fate or whatever. Usually werewolves mate with other werewolves but not always. My mother’s human for example, and she still mated with my dad. You said you felt something pulling you to this town, like it was decided before you even consciously thought it. That was me. That was us.”

He now looked just down right sheepish. This man was essentially telling you that he was a dog and your soulmate all in one night, and has the audacity to try and smile at you while he did it. Your mind felt like it was about ready to explode. You couldn’t even fathom all of the information he was trying to make you take in. four years of med school had nothing on Shawn.

“So what we’re just...meant to be? Like we’re stuck together forever?” You asked.

You knew immediately that he’d been dreading you asking that question by the look of defeat on his face. And just like that the need to fix it came roaring back in your gut. It felt oddly nice to give that feeling a name now.

“N--No. It doesn’t mean that. If you decide that you hate me, or that this isn’t what you want for yourself you don’t have to stay with me. There are some cases of mated pairings not working out. It’s usually pretty terrible but...I would never make you stay if you didn't want to. I love you too much for that.”

Somehow out of all the things that he’d said that night, of all the feelings he’d made you feel, he was still able to shock you.

“Did you just say…?”

He reached for your hand and intertwined your fingers.

“I love you. It’s a bit different for me because I knew we were mates the second we met but...I don’t think being human could have changed anything. You’re just, you’re you. I meant it when I said I was crazy about you. I love every moment we get to spend together. I love your sense of humor, and how you’re probably the smartest person I’ve ever met. I would love to just be with you, if you’ll have me. No secrets. No half truths. No running off anymore. It would be just you and me, forreal this time.”

It felt good to hear. That part was undeniable. But you couldn’t help but feel incredibly overwhelmed by it all. Not just the “i love you”, but the fact that the first time you moved out of your home state you stumbled straight into supernatural shenanigans. When you had asked for Shawn to be honest with you, you figured he was maybe hiding an erectile dysfunction, or even a secret job as a hitman would have been less shocking.

“This is . . . a lot, Shawn. I don’t even know what to say to any of this.” You admitted.

He nodded softly eyes downcast. “Of course. If you want to go home, I understand. And if you don’t want me around anymore, you can just text me or something.”

You didn’t know how to explain not wanting to be alone. You couldn’t reconcile needing the space to think, and yet wanting him to be close by while you did it. It wasn’t fair to you or to him, but you found that now that you knew the truth, your instincts toward him were even harder to fight. You just wanted to be with him.

“Is it weird to not want to be alone right now?” you mumbled.

He reached hesitantly forward, tapping on your chin till your eyes met with his.

“No. Nothing you’re feeling can be weird right now. I just told you I’m a wolf, y/n.”

A chuckle passed your lips and you paused not sure if it was okay to laugh or not.

“It’s okay. You can laugh. I’d rather you laugh.”

“Can I--Can I stay here tonight?”

His eyes widened. “Yea. Yes, of course. You can stay in my room. C’mere.”

He leads you through the house, all wooden floors and wooden walls. There seemed to be a lot of patch ups, from what you weren’t sure, but you even passed the door you’d seen him get at the store all the months ago. It made you curious how violent wolves actually were. It was difficult to imagine Shawn as being anything other than kind and warm. Then again you’d never imagine him to grow four legs either.

“This house is so big.” You noted as he led you up the stairs.

“It’s been in my family for generations. The pack usually lives here. When my dad passed away, my mom couldn’t be here anymore, so I took over and she moved into an apartment.”

“Wait, so they all live here? Where are they?”

He shrugged pulling you into the last room at the end of the hall.

“I had everyone leave but Geoff and Brian. I thought it might be a little intimidating.”

His room was obviously the master bedroom. It was far bigger than yours, with the king size bed to match. There was a guitar in the corner next to the night stand. He had a picture of him, his dad, and his mom on his dresser. There were cookbooks and pastry books galore all on a shelf. It felt like him. It was so obviously him that you somehow felt immediately at home.

Shawn moved to his dresser pulling out one of his shirts and a pair of sweatpants. He then walked into his closet and pulled out a pink satin pillowcase before pulling it onto a fresh pillow and lying it next to the clothes.

“Here you go. You can change in the bathroom.”

You eyed the pillow curiously. “What’s that for?”

“Oh,” He scratched nervously at back of his neck. “Well I just remembered that you had one at your house. You said it was for your hair, right? So it doesn’t get messed up? I bought one off amazon so if you ever came over you wouldn’t have to worry.”

You stared at him, lips parted, because what in the entire fuck? Your eyes flickered from the pillow and back to him, heart doing another unsteady gurplunk in your chest. He had to be stopped.

“Is that...is that okay? Did I get the right one?”

You nodded. “Yea it...it’s perfect. No one’s ever done that for me before.”

“I just wanted you to feel comfortable here.”

Another layered statement. Another round of intense eye contact. He was sure to be the death of you one way or another.

You changed into the clothes and ran some mouthwash through your cheeks before stepping back into the room. Shawn was just sort of standing there with his hands in his pockets like he didn’t know what to do with himself. In your mind, you wondered how anyone that beautiful and chiseled could be so goofy.

“What now?” You asked.

“Nothing! I just didn’t know if you’d want to sleep alone tonight. You can if you want. I meant what I said about giving you space.”

You looked over at the bed and then at him before shaking your head softly.

“Don’t wanna be alone.”

The sheets are soft and they smell just like Shawn. The satin pillow is kind of perfect and when he turns the light off it’s almost like all the other nights you spent together. You’re almost able to forget that he’s just flipped your entire world upside down. It doesn’t help that you feel better being in a room with him, than you’d felt in a week. It doesn’t help that when he was describing all of the reasons why he might love you, they  matched perfectly with how you felt about him.

“I can hear you thinking.” He murmured into the dark.

You gasped. “What?!”

“Not like I can read your mind.” He snorted. “More like, I hear your heart rate increasing. I can feel your body language. Usually it’s the wolf instincts, but I think I’m just attuned to you at this point.”

“Oh...I guess I was wondering, when you didn’t want to have sex with me? You said that you didn’t want to hurt me. I still don’t get what you meant by that.”

He goes quiet for a little while, and you’re sure that you’ve struck a nerve. When he releases a little breath, you find yourself doing the same.

“Well it’s two things. I guess it’s why I started to freak out when you called me town leader?

I didn’t want you to know what I am. I didn’t want you to have to come into my world. I--I knew that you were my mate. I knew that I loved you, but every second you were in the dark you were safe. I didn’t want to lose you.”

“Safe? Does that mean that now that I know I’m not safe anymore?”

“No. I would never let anything or anyone hurt you. Not now, not ever. There’s just always a chance when you’re dealing with wolves. We’re protectors. Of the town, of our pack, of our families. That typically means there are things that one might need to be protected from. The closer you are to us the more likely it is to need protection. But I’m alpha for a reason. No one would ever touch you.”

You’d been laying their long enough for your eyes to adjust to the dark. You could see the firm set of his jaw to match the seriousness of his tone. Before you had even consciously made the decision, you were flipping over onto your side and nuzzling into his side. He quickly lifted his arm for you to slide beneath. The warmth he gave put your mind way too at ease.

“Tell me the other part.”

“The other part is...I’m kind of really strong. Inhumanly strong, obviously. And I just want to make sure that when I’m intimate with you that you don’t get hurt. Mated love making is...intense.”

You peered up at his face with raised eyebrows. “What kind of intense?”

“Remember what you thought happened to my bed to make it break? That kind of intense.”

Hmm. Hot.

You hummed. “Well I guess it has been so long since I’ve got laid, I’d welcome you throwing my back out at this point.”

“Not funny.”

“Not even a little bit?”

“Me breaking your back? No not in the slightest!”

“Well no one said anything about breaking it Shawn! I simply implied a little soreness and tenderness after a good dicking.” You snorted. “You werewolves. So touchy.”

“Oh my god. I’m in love with an actual dork.”

……

*Ten minutes later*

“I just want to point out that when I said no white nonsense, being a fucking werewolf was automatically on that list”

“Sweetheart, go to sleep.” He hushed.

“Yea, okay.”

****

*six months later*

“Babe have you seen my lucky head scarf! I’m gonna be late!”

“Did you check your hair drawer?!”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes! Coincidentally that was the first place I looked!”

“Well stop being sarcastic to me and just come downstairs!”

It was your first date completely running the clinic by yourself. Dr. savage had been slowly edging himself out over the past few months, but not without letting you in on the town secrets. Little did you know that being able to accept Shawn as a werewolf meant having to take care of all the werewolves. The clinic would be their safe haven if anyone got too hurt to heal, which apparently shouldn’t happen often because they healed super fast. A learning curve did not begin to describe all the shit you had been over in the last few months.

In the end it had been way too easy of a decision. You had woken up the next morning in Shawn’s arms and he had just stared at you with hopeful puppy dog eyes--which definitely held a new meaning now. You couldn’t leave. You didn’t want to. It had taken a while for you to get used to it all. He was incredibly gentle and understanding with you. And thus there you were...wrapped up in continuous white nonsense. Because love. Or whatever.

“Shawn,” You whined thumping down the stairs. “I really do need my scarf, babe. My edges are rough.”

You headed straight for the kitchen only to see your boyfriend standing there with a cinnamon roll the size of your head with a candle sticking out of it  in his hands, smile big and wide on his face. It had turned out to be your favorite after all

“Happy First Day!” He cheered.

Usually the kitchen was crawling with people in the morning, everyone trying to get their breakfasts in before going off to their respective days. This morning it was absolutely bare besides the two of them. You had gone on to notice over your months dating Shawn that when he wanted to be alone with you, he was going to be, and anyone else around wasn’t even an option. Again. Hot.

“What are you doin’?” You murmured playfully stepping up to claim your prize.

And it wasn’t the cinnamon roll. You had him put the plate down and quickly wrapped your arms around his waist. He took your cheeks in his hands, warm as always, and pressed a kiss to your lips that left you a little breathless.

“I wanted to celebrate my baby being the badass doctor in town.”

You giggled. “When you said you were letting the other guys open the bakery today, this was not what I was expecting.”

“You didn’t think I’d make you your favorite breakfast? I’ve been bringing you breakfast for almost a year now.” He chuckled.

“Hmm...it’s been a good year.”

“I would have to agree. I have your scarf. What do you say I drive you to work today before I head to the bakery. And after your first full day, I want to take you out just the two of us.”

Your eyes widened. “Really? No one else?”

“No one else. Just you and me. I’ve got a lot of plans for you today.”

“Oh really? What kind of plans you talkin’ bout sir?”

“The throw out your back kind of plans.”

“Well those just happen to be my favorite kind...C’mere.”

The End.

[kpopfanfictrash]

A Moment of Weakness

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Creative Content Contributor: @baebae-goodnight (hey ily)

Pairing: You / Jimin

Rating: PG-13 [ fluff + enemies to lovers!AU + Hogwarts!AU ]

Word Count: 2,557

Summary:  A series of drabbles about Slytherin!Jimin and Hufflepuff!Y/N, the sister of his self-declared mortal enemy.

A/N: These drabbles are non-sequential.

It has been several weeks since the Yule Ball.

After your confrontation with Jimin, you did not stay at the party for long. Taehyung realized something was off as soon as you returned to him; although to be fair, it would have been hard not to notice. There was obviously something on your mind and that something was clearly not Taehyung. He was sweet about it, even if you did not feel you deserved it.

He laughed when you said as much to him. “Y/N,” he grinned, pulling you into a hug. This was while you were still at the ball and you stiffened, unsure who else had seen. “I didn’t ask you here to get lucky, or anything. I asked you here because I thought it would be fun, okay?”

“Yeah,” you sniffed, pulling away. “Okay.”

Taehyung shrugged. “I’d like to be friends, if you do.”

You did, and you said this to him, but you knew Taehyung was disappointed – no matter how well he hid it. There were reasons he asked you to the dance and you knew those reasons were not entirely platonic. The thought made your heart hurt, but not as much as those three tiny words from Park Jimin’s lips. I don’t care.

Ironic, that it took Jimin telling you he did not care for you to admit that you did. Because you do; you care for Jimin. Fuck, it would be impossible not to. Maybe you did not at first. Maybe you did not when this all began and maybe you didn’t even somewhere in the middle. Except – maybe even that is a lie.

In your first year at Hogwarts, you remember feeling lost. Lucas and you had been close growing up, but a twelve-year-old boy wants little to do with his eleven-year-old sister. Before you made friends in Hufflepuff, you were lonely – plain and simple.

Even then, you remember Jimin. Your brother hated him for reasons which were never fully revealed to you. There were rumors of a girl they both liked, Jimin hexing Lucas once on a dare, Lucas beating Jimin the first Quidditch game they played. You did not know what the true reason was – only that it existed, and that the only time Lucas ever spoke to you was to shield you from Jimin.

Whenever you found yourself near the blonde Slytherin boy, Lucas would barrel out of nowhere and frantically shoo you away. It was uncanny, as though he had a sixth sense for your proximity. You never understood why, even back then. Jimin seemed harmless enough. Indeed, you saw much of yourself in the quiet, Slytherin boy.

As time passed and the years went on, Jimin ceased to be lonely and so did you. Instead, he became insufferable, just as he was to Lucas – always hanging around you, smirking and teasing with a big grin on his face. Despite this, you never hated him. Jimin was never malicious in his presence, never mean and in your mind, you always saw him as that quiet, smaller boy your brother liked to pick on.

This was around the time Lucas stopped being a jackass. He hung out with you more, welcomed you into his friend group. You found your own friends in Hufflepuff and stopped paying attention to Jimin. Indeed, you nearly forgot all about him – until that day on the lawn with the Novifusilli spell.

With a deep sort of sigh, you lower your chin to your hands to stare at the door. The toilet you sit upon is dark, far removed from the main hall – which is why you chose this particular location. You do not need to use the bathroom, just need a space to breathe and reflect before joining the others for lunch.

Since the Yule Ball, you have not been able to stop thinking about Jimin. Little memories keep coming back to you, unbidden and it is becoming harder and harder to deny what you had.

You keep remembering random moments. The day Jimin helped you to ride a broomstick for the first time. The night he taught you forbidden spells in the back of the library – you accidentally punched him in the nose with an overeager flick of your wand and, rather than fume, Jimin cracked up to tackle you down to the floor. He kissed you like that, pinning your hands overhead and you were half-laughing, half-moaning when he thrust deeply inside you.

Hissing, you squeeze your eyes shut and attempt to dislodge the memory. It is hopeless to think about because, even if it weren’t for Lucas, you still royally fucked up. You were the one who told Jimin what you were, over and over again. You were the one who pushed him away, told him it was just sex and when he walked away from you at the ball, you felt it was for good.

Biting down on your lip, you try not to cry – as the bathroom door slams open, hitting the wall. You jerk upright, drawing your legs closer and wishing you could melt into the floor. Fuck, how embarrassing would it be to be caught crying in the stall.

“Honestly!” a shrill voice laughs. You recognize it to be Susie Larkin, a Gryffindor you cannot stand. “What do they all see in her, anyways? For the life of me, I’ll never understand how she got Taehyung to take her to the Yule Ball.”

Stomach sinking like lead, you realize she is talking about you. Sitting up straighter, you stare at the door.

“Do you really not know, Suze?” teases an unfamiliar voice. Probably one of Susie’s friends. “It rhymes with snow job. I hear Y/N gives out a lot of them.”

Susie cracks up, snorting in between laughs while your cheeks start to burn.

“Oh, sure,” Susie gasps. You hear the clatter of makeup dropped on the counter. “Honestly, was Jimin not enough for her? Weren’t they fucking?”

“Were they?” the other girl muses. “Seriuosly, I can’t keep track.”

“I think that they were,” responds Susie conspiratorially, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Molly Jordan says she saw Y/N coming out of the exact same classroom minutes after Jimin did, a few months back. It was pre-tty obvious what they were doing in there.”

“Really?” Her friend sounds shocked. “Doesn’t her brother hate Jimin, though?”

“Beats me. Girl can’t close her legs to save her life, I guess.”

At this, you stand up and bang open the door.

Susie’s mouth drops, comical in her shock. Her skin turns an ugly shade of puce, recognizing you in the mirror while her lipstick clatters into the sink. Her friend – definitely unfamiliar – stands equally startled, her mouth dropped open in a small, perfect o.

“Shut your mouth, you look like a fish,” you snap at her. Striding forward, you stop when you stand toe-to-toe against Susie. “And you,” you seethe, glowering. “Go and fuck yourself. Stop blaming me for the fact that no one else wants to!”

With a huff, you turn around and stride fast from the room. The crush of students outside is unnerving, deafening after being alone for so long. Blinking several times, you feel your eyes start to burn. Turning abruptly, you plunge into the sea of people and let yourself be pulled along. Barely do you know what you are doing, nor where your two feet are headed. All you know is that you need to be as far away from that bathroom – and Susie – as possible.

You are moving so quickly; you do not look up when you round the next corner and barrel straight into the chest of someone wearing black and green robes.

“Oof!” gasps Jimin, stumbling into you. Righting himself, he freezes in place with both hands on your arms. The two of you have not spoken since the ball. “I – hey, uh. Oh,” Jimin fumbles, squinting to get a better look at your face. “Wait. Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“I – nothing,” you breathe, moving to duck past but Jimin does not move. His grip on you tightens, forcing you to look up at his face. Now, the tears start to fall free, running down your cheeks in hot, embarrassing waves.

He takes one look and shakes his head, grabbing your wrist to tug you backwards. “Come on,” he exhales, shoving into the crowd. Jimin moves easily, glaring at anyone in his way until they back down.

You allow yourself to be pulled until you arrive at a plain, wooden door. Jimin opens this quickly, ushering you forward and you find yourself in an empty classroom, reminiscent of the ones you two used to hook up in. The thought makes your cheeks heat, remembering the words Susie said about you in the bathroom.

Before you can stop yourself, the tears are spilling over and now you are standing before Jimin, crying your eyes out. You know that you shouldn’t. He is not the comforting type and besides, you do not deserve to be comforted by him, anyways.

“Hey,” he murmurs, leaving his stance to quickly cross over the room. For a moment, Jimin hovers, uncertain before he gives in. “Come here,” Jimin exhales, taking your arms.

He pulls you foward, wrapping both arms around you as you bury your face in his chest. Breathing him in, you lose yourself in his familiar scent. It is hard to reign it in, now that you have started. You cannot help but think about how badly you needed this. Needed him.

No – what you need to do is calm down, you tell yourself. You need to stop crying.

It does not matter what someone like Susie thinks about you, after all. It matters what Jimin thinks, though. You do not want him to think about you like that – like he meant less to you than he did to you. Although, you have not even told him the truth of what he means to you.

Tightening your arms about his waist, you let Jimin hold you like that. Again, you should not – for a variety of reasons. First and foremost, is how shitty you treated Jimin at the ball. You do not deserve to be comforted by him after that. Still, Jimin’s chest is so warm, his breathing so steady that you keep trying to match his in order to calm yourself down. Jimin’s hand slides up and down your back, rubbing your body and keeping you close.

As your eyes drift shut, you allow yourself one final moment of weakness. Once the tears have stopped though, once they have all dried against the black of his robe, you pry your eyes open. Jimin does not pull away yet and so, finally, you force yourself to.

He simply looks down, assessing you. “What happened?” he asks, referring to the scene in the hall.

There is steel to his tone; it laces his words, as though the thought of someone hurting you is unpardonable. The sentiment makes your heart twist. “Nothing,” you respond, quickly extracting yourself. “I’m – I’m sorry. Nothing I can’t handle, anyways. I know you aren’t…”

Jimin arches a brow, watching you trail off into silence. “Yes?” he prompts. “I’m not what, exactly?”

Heart pounding, it echoes the pulse in your head. There is so much you should say to him, but now that you are here, all you can think about is one thing. 

“What did you mean at the ball?” you blurt.

Jimin stares back at you, utterly thrown. “Huh?”

“What did you mean?” you repeat, taking a step closer. Jimin is not much taller than you are; his nose is only inches away. “At the ball – you said that if I had to ask, you didn’t care. What did you mean by that?”

Jimin stares at you for a long moment, clearly warring with some inner conflict. Eventually, a side wins out and he sighs. “I meant…” Jimin pauses, weighing his next words. “I meant that if you had to ask who should’ve taken you to the ball, I shouldn’t... care about you.”

Before you can respond, he slips his hand into yours. You glance down, staring when he raises them both to his lips. Gently, Jimin brushes a kiss to your palm. Although you have been intimate with him before, although you have been naked, moaning and felt him inside you – never have you felt more vulnerable than you do right now.

“Who,” you whisper, unable to tear your gaze away from his lips. “Who should have been the one taking me, then?”

Jimin gives a small, bitter smile. “Me.”

The word hangs between you, stark and simple – much like Jimin himself. When you first began hooking up, you remember liking that about him. You still like that about him. God, you more than like that about him and now, you are realizing it all too late.

Jimin wanted to be your date to the Yule Ball and instead, you took Taehyung. You did not even give Jimin a chance to ask you. Everything seems twenty-twenty in hindsight and now, you are all too aware of how foolish you were.

You should correct Jimin, you think. You should tell him that even if you did not ask him, you were thinking about him the whole night. That you have been thinking about him ever since but, as you move to utter the worlds, Jimin interrupts.

“I like you, Y/N,” he insists, still holding your hand. As though emboldened by this, Jimin straightens. “I know that’s not what you want. You were pretty clear about that from the start,” he observes, smiling weakly. “I’m sorry that I dragged my feelings into this. I don’t… I guess what I’m saying is I don’t think we should hook up anymore,” he finishes, firm.

The light in the classroom is dimming. Outside, the sun has just begun to set over the horizon. It casts Jimin in a radiant light; your heart aches just to look at him.

“I – you don’t?” you respond, uncertain. If Jimin does not want to see you anymore, then perhaps your original thought was right – it is too late to confess.

Jimin inhales, glancing down. “I can’t keep on pretending,” he mutters, hoarse. “I don’t want to keep on pretending. I think we should end this now. Besides,” he pauses, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “What would your brother think if he saw us, like this?”

The silence which greets him while you fumble for a response seems to be all the confirmation Jimin needs.

“You see?” he exhales, arching a brow.

“But,” you start to protest, as Jimin shakes his head.

Gently, he slides both hands up your arms. “I,” Jimin exhales, closing his eyes. “Thank you for… everything, Y/N.”

Bending forward, he kisses you. The gesture is sweet, achingly so. Barley is there time for you to wrap your mind around it before his lips part yours in the gentlest of touches. It makes your head spin, hands reaching out for his robe, but he is already withdrawing, pulling away.

Jimin stares blankly at you, chest rising and falling. He swallows hard at your expression, forcing himself to respond, “You’re okay… right?”

For a moment, you are tempted to say no. For a moment, you are tempted to ask how – without Jimin, how can you be okay? Then, you realize he means from before. Jimin is referring to the crying, sodden mess he ran into in the hallway.

“I – yeah,” you exhale, licking your lips. They remain stubbornly dry. “I’ll be fine.”

Jimin stares at you a moment longer before he nods, turning around to walk out the door.

The room feels empty, near-suffocating without him.

A/N: [ Master List ]

© kpopfanfictrash, 2019. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[notasiren21]

My Romance Kdrama Rankings and rec.:

*warning: possibly a lot of spoilers but tbh mostly just a redone synopsis of the shows*

Also a bit lengthy as hell

#12. Melting Me Softly

This show didn’t do that well as much as it was expected to, considering it even had Ji Chang-Wook as the male lead and the adorable Choi Bo-min who was introduced and quite possibly helped quick start the recognition for his kpop group Golden Child. I’ll admit I expected more of this and I don’t hold anything against the script writer who I heard did Strong Woman, but I kept in mind that the whole premise itself was also very complex to work with. Besides the fact it had two very cute and good looking male leads to draw me in, what really did it was the said premise. This is coming from a girl who is in love with Fallout 4 where the playable character was cryogenically frozen and then thawed out two centuries later, that shit slaps with me for some reason and I was excited to see it play out in this.

The romance is okay I guess, still “aww” worthy and has an intense kiss scene that’ll go down in Ji Chang-Wook’s kissing portfolio no doubt, as well as a hot kiss with his former and now aged flame that is only dreamt of. What drives the romance is the male lead with his puppy dog eyes and loving gaze, only a few have COMPLETELY mastered this in the kdrama buisness. Choi Bo-min was a complete adorable cutie who seemed to have fallen in love for the first time and I couldn’t help but fall in love with him (we’re also the same age but that’s besides the point and I’m completely in love with Rocky from Astro so like, I gotta keep this professional).

Time and time again I have issues with female leads in dramas and feel like the men pick up the slack when it comes to acting, this was one of those times. She was funny and quirky but seemed very out of focus on serval aspects. I think her most redeeming trait besides being made for the media and entertainment business in the show was her completely devotion to her brother.

#11. Suits

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, Park Hyungsik is my favorite korean actor hands down.

I’ve seen bits of the American version, the original version, and it didn’t interest me in the slightest. I took a chance on this because I saw this cutie wearing a suit and converse and maybe that’s my kink, who knows, but I was fucking HERE for it. Now I’m a huge slave to romance and the shows, romcoms, that shit. I need to ship, I need to see the love, possibly write a fanfic of it, save gifs of the couple being cute or someone pining. But this show didn’t focus on the love story brewing on the side, it focused on its original intent and purpose which was Park Hyungsik and Jang Don-Gun’s partnership as mentor and mentee, the practice of law, and Park Hyungsik’s storyline as someone who got mixed up in the wrong crowd and fauxed having the license to practice law. The love story you get is the reason it’s on this list and why it’s ranked lower, but all in all this was a good show and one of the few exceptions to a non romance focused show.

#10. Suspicious Partner

The only reason this doesn’t have a pic is because I can only use ten and I gotta figure which would need one and which wouldn’t.

To start off, this show is fucking hilarious with the cast dynamic. It was like what, 40 episodes? I didn’t realize I needed a prolonged show until this came along. At times, it seemed like the main plot was dragging and I was reminded of why I prefer typical kdrama fashion of a one season within 12-32 episode limit, but it made up for it.

Yes, yes, Ji Chang-Wook, the god of kissing, stars in this. My first introduction to him was actually Melting Me Softly and because of how he did in acting with what he could, the emotions he portrayed, I sought out another show of his pre-military duty. God, he fucking serves in glasses and a suit. His character’s jealousy regarding Nam Ji Hyun (his romantic interest) and Choi Tae Joon (Ex best friend, slow burn, exes to friends to platonic lovers that’s one sided while the other can’t stand him, 35k words) instilled the notion that he is fucking funny as hell when needed and such a mood. You want to see the (not even romantic rival bc Choi and Nam are best friends) spraying with a water hose on your lead’s rival? Want to see a hot guy like Ji Chang-Wook panic and try shoving him out of the house when the girl catches them working out? It’s gold.

The feud with the moms -granted they didn’t realize the knew they were the mom’s of the leads-, the slow burn of enemies to friends with the girls, the redemption of a broken friendship, the crackhead and large old baby played by Lee Deok Hwa and the poor father figure who is tired of everyone’s shit portrayed by Jang Hyeok-jin. It’s everything you need for at least a week. It’s possibly a great starter show to ease one into the fact that most dramas don’t hold to that many episodes.

The romance is great, the fucking pining on Ji Chang-Wook’s side is great, the kissing scenes are fucking one for the history books, and you’re guaranteed to be giggling to yourself in several scenes.

Oh and there’s like, a serial killer but yeah, romance!

#9. What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim?

The reason why it’s not so high on my list despite being popular is quite possibly some of the side cast.

While Park Seo Joon and Park Min Young severed as a fucking power couple and their tandem dynamic was strong as hell, there were characters who made the show’s story seen to drag out despite it being 16 episodes (see what I mean by usual number??). For one, we learn that a brown haired Lee Tae Hwan is not gonna make for a silent crush in this show. No, brown haired Lee Tae Hwan just gets on your nerves and despite it being purely because his character is mentally blocked in this twisted memory, he forces the main character into staying isolated within his own pain and nightmares from what really occurred when they were children. He lies to his family, keeps it hidden from those who are close to him and love him, suffers alone. It’s what keeps him away from chasing after Secretary Kim besides his egotistical personality -which I never thought could be so great but it is. The main character’s brother in his endless pursuit to chase at Secretary Kim himself starts to gnaw on your chill as you watch him subconsciously force this notions that they’re tethered to one another, deserve each other, etc. While you can’t entirely fault him for how he is given the psychological trauma he endured, you can get annoyed with him very easily for the other accounts and purposes.

The side story of the roof top guy with the one suit -I’m sorry, he’s great in 2PM but I can’t stand him in about every drama he’s in- and the seemly rookie girl become more of an obstacle when you just want to watch the main focus. The driver of the main character is hilarious but his romantic interest is over the top at times. Sometimes it just takes away from the show.

#8. Hotel Del Luna

Ah, I wish I could’ve put a pic.

To kick this off, can we like get a spin off with Kim Soo Hyun? Thanks.

FINALLY, A FUCKING FEMALE LEAD I STAN COMPLETELY AND WOULD WATCH EVEN WITHOUT YEO JIN GOO THERE FOR A ROMANTIC INTEREST.

This bitch, IU, fucking slays in her role as a hotel owner for the dead before the leave for the after life. Everything she does is iconic -yes, the fucking cocking of the rifle, the child like smile seeing diamonds, blessing the poor boy with the ability to see the dead then let him get chased per her own amusement before business. I really would’ve watched the show even if there was no romance. Whether it’s modern times or her orignal lifetime before being condemned to a life of immortality hell and aimlessly running a hotel, she makes for a strong lead. Her reasons for wanted to avoid love seemed so valid compared to other female leads who completely brush guys off. She doesn’t want love, and yet she doesn’t want anyone else touching Chan Sung (Yeo Jin Goo) because she’s not dumb enough to let go of something that makes her feel alive. While her character is legitimately described as cold and greedy, her intentions for holding onto him reveal an insecure part of her that’s been tucked away for centuries. His dedication to the hotel and her, to helping the ghosts move on and such, it’s great and makes for a binge full night.

It’s only ranked lower because the ending sadden me when I realized it was him picturing how they would meet one another again. And because they teased us with Kim Soo Hyun, like that’s cruel.

#7. Guardian: The Lonely and Great God (aka Goblin)

Tbh, this show would be lower if it weren’t for the Reaper and Sunny, as well as Deok Hwa.

I’ll probably get a lot of hate for this, but I couldn’t stand Kim Go Eun in this. I’ve watched her in Cheese in the Trap and thought she was good and stuff, but this I found myself growing annoyed and glaring at the television while my mom preached upon her behalf. The goblin was funny, his dynamic and weird polar friendship with the Reaper is quite possibly what really made the show, but I failed to see the spark between them until the time skip. Then, THEN, I could tolerate her a bit better.

Maybe it’s because she was protraying someone around my age in high school, but she went from this independent and driving girl to someone who became too needy and clingy. She acted like a little girl in front of a crush when she could’ve handled it more marturely with the said maturity she showed before meeting him. Granted, I know she had a very difficult home life after her mom died and she saw ghosts everywhere, and her living with the Reaper and Goblin was like this warm family she felt safe in, but I just couldn’t. Her endless pursuing of the Goblin got on my nerves and she would get upset, but then again did she ever act like an adult and do the most natural thing? Aka sit down and discuss the whole situation.

“If you’re comfortable, can you tell me why you think I’m your bride?/Why is there a sword in you?/What happens if I pull it out?/ What do you want me to do?/etc”

No, instead it was a constant “I’m the goblin’s bride”, “I’m your bride”, there was this bratty entitlement laying underneath the cutest exterior that was so apparent for someone my age, and I got pissed when she admitted to have seeing the sword the first time around. Like this man has been in total agony for fucking forever and you strung him along hoping for the possibility that you may be the key to him finally getting the ending he thinks he’ll get. It was selfish, she didn’t even know him but insisted on seeing how to be his bride. She should’ve stepped back and thought the situation out carefully. It wasn’t until that blessed time skip that I started to like her better. She wasn’t a kid then and became mature like she needed to be. There’s the need to flaw a character, but her’s was always biting at me.

Oh yeah, Sunny and the Reaper are the true couple in this story and their love that’s star crossed in two lives really hits you. There was more chemistry than the main couple, there was confusion in flirtatious banter, there was stupidity for first time romance against a tired experience woman, there was the hidden history that they both remembered after the time skip. The angst, the pure acceptance, the guilt and remorse. They made the fucking show alongside the Goblin and Reaper’s bromance and Deok Hwa’s “I just want a credit card and to be irresponsible but these two dumb fucks keep almost revealing their true selves to the world and I’m fucking done with these children”, on top of God taking his body as a vessel and becoming 10x cooler with that hairstyle while drinking with Fate (such a badass who loves her children I can’t, I stan the side character too).

#6. My ID is Gangnam Beauty

Oh my god, my introduction to Astro. Cha Eun Woo (aka Lee Dongmin). My god, if it weren’t for my mom, sister and I officially ruling Cha Eun Woo as god tier in terms of looks and making him this untouchable bias we can’t have, I would have never let this adorably hot as hell dancer and rapper distract me. Really, I kept wanting to be distracted by Rocky but I felt like I couldn’t miss the visual god in the front. Blessed I finally was able to divert my attention to the one I wanted to watch so very much and became my bias wrecker. Mom loves Moonbin like he’s her own son and we’re not her children, sister loves MJ’s psychotic idiocy.

ANYWAYS, the female lead, Kang Mi Rae, was stiff as hell when watching it a second time around and at times, knowing their age gap can be bothersome, but it was a cute slow burn of her and Cha Eun Woo’s character, Do Kyung Suk (sounds badass too, doesn’t it). While he appeared stiff as well, probably could’ve played a robot if he wanted to, I felt like he did well portraying his character who grew up in a dysfunctional house where their political father’s position took presidence over family. He was taught it was unmanly you cry, he never smiled (idk how Cha Eun Woo did it, this cutie never stops smiling or laughing), he never spoke up, etc. He appears socially handicapped until Mi Rae appears back in his life and he slowly let’s go of this anger as the story progresses. She learns she doesn’t have to be so self conscious about her plastic surgery or who she used to be because he loves both.

The villian of this story was well thought out (only kdrama where my dad actively participates in the discussions because he hated her so much and says her name with such spite while bragging he knows at least one Astro member so that’s his “idfk what a bias is but I’ll go with the Gangnam kid”). She brought the tension and there was the window to pity her and realize something was most definitely wrong in a tragic way. She sought after Kyung Suk like a prized trophy when he didn’t express interest, stepped inbetween blooming relationships, set boys off a progressive course away from her, and turned one kid psychotic. That was just with her obsession to have the boys fawn after her; completely disregarding her endless efforts to knock Mi Rae down a peg or two in meticulously planned schemes. She was incredibly smart and cunning, it can’t be denied and she drove them closer together in spite of her tries to wedge between them.

Really, this made me wish that the Webtoon True Beauty that’s supposed to get a drama adaption will cast him as the main male lead Suho. It’s almost similar but Suho seems more dimensional and expressive and I feel like he would truly shine there.

Stan Astro.

#5. Extra-Ordinary You

Ah, this one hurts me. @macaknight, just watch it.

This is a young love one and one of the few that’s not absolute cringe worthy. Set in high school where yea, there’s drama and it’s in Asia so there’s that weird “all mighty and supreme group that conquers the school” called the A3, a girl (Kim Hye Yoon) with a heart condition learns she’s a character in a manga -doesn’t realize she’s not the main one tho and that’s hilarious alone. She finds a focus with this unnamed student who stays in the background and shadows (portrayed by SF9’s Rowoon). The girl, Eun Dan Oh, is someone to worship and cherish, especially since she’s so young and very promising. I thoroughly enjoyed her character and how her efforts to derail the natural progression of the story with the catalyst of student number 13, later on Haru. There’s so many fucking twist and turns, characters to let your heartbreak for as you wish to adopt them and protect them from the world, it all hurts so much but in a masochistic against yourself kind of way you can’t let go of.

Those who are aware they’re in a comic book, they all struggle to break their “character’s” roles and expectations. The second male lead of both the drama and the drama’s manga is sick and tired of playing the violin and being this unrequited love interest that’ll lose in the end, forever the friend. Dan Oh is livid she’s expected to die from her heart disease and is forced to endlessly pine for her childhood fiancé Baek Kyung who is a complete asshole to her while in character. Number 13/Haru is tired of being an unnamed background character who continuously suffers and gets toyed with by the author. Dried Squid Fairy lunch maker is sick of how he must remember shit that’s kept a secret as he tries in vain to keep the story on track to avoid repeated mistakes and consequential devastating punishments to those who don’t follow the storyline. Yeo Ju Da (the main character of the manga) wants to experience the love story she wants without the drama. Baek Kyung want to prove himself and that he genuinely cares for Dan Oh but is forced to be an asshole because that’s how he’s written.

It’s a fucking mess and it’s fucking fantastic. The friendship of A3 (Lee Do Hwa the vionlist, Oh Namju and Baek Kyung), Lee Do Hwa and Dan Oh’s powerful best friendship after being self aware and confiding in each other (honestly I want a drama with just two of them, they’re so cute and funny together), the A3 that happened outside for those self aware between Dan Oh, Number 13/Haru, and Do Hwa where they all genuinely care for one another, Dan Oh’s acceptance that her manga best friend is a bitch but nice to her and the male lackey of their group is funny, etc.

I didn’t think another self aware comic book character show could happen without ripping off W-Two Worlds, but it did. They did it.

#4. Angel’s Last Mission: Love

That song that goes “It’s alright, it’s alright” in a sad melodic way? Yeah, they play it when it’s not alright.

This show has heartbreak galore, even in the first episode for numerous reasons. They don’t want you to be alright for the most part and yet our sadistic selves can’t help but suffer through it. L’s portrayal of being an angel is such a gift, I didn’t know I needed it. I was dead set on living my life until I saw this and felt myself crumble to bits.

You want sacrifice? You got it. Tears of cute boy and a girl who can’t catch a break? Check. Plot twists? Lmao, it’s a kdrama. Yea. Angst and hurt? Fuck yep.

While you’re at it, listen to the song too so you can suffer some more.

#3. Descendants of the Sun

THIS WOULD BE AT THE TOP IF IT WEREN’T FOR THE FACT I AM COMPLETELY IN LOVE WITH THE FIRST ONE AND THESE TWO GOT DIVORCED IN REAL LIFE. I still wish the best for them and their child. I still hurt but love them.

So much fucking chemistry and angst, so much hurt and wounds (it’s legit a show with a military background and characters), so much cool fight scenes and surgeries. Their soundtrack slaps, the backstory of characters really set the tone to their current stories, shit overlaps somehow, the female rivalry is hilarious, the cat and dog friendship of the male leads warms my heart. They have such iconic stills and scenes.

The main leads connected so fucking well they got married in real life (we don’t talk about the end result, I’m still crying but I get it.) This kdrama is probably one of the staples to korean dramas in general.

Another female lead I really liked as well as the second, I just struggled at times with Song’s character at times because of the pain she put them both through.

#2. W-Two Worlds

This is my go to for recommending korean dramas to someone for the first time -I got an ex hooked on it that he cried several times throughout it/life 1/4 of the varsity boy’s soccer team has seen this because of me.

This is the comic self awareness show that I didn’t think could be redone, but kudos to you Extraordinary You, you created an orignal that breaks my heart.

This show hurts so much as well, I don’t watch them if they don’t hurt in one way or another.

Lee Jong Suk stars as the main character (Kang Chul) who is also the main character of his own comic book he stars in. The issue is that he’s self aware and that there’s something wrong with his world and life. His webtoon/manga creator is trying to kill him because having his creation alive is driving him to insanity and was the only comfort when he pushed his family away for his career and alcoholism. The creator’s daughter is alerted that her father went missing while cooped up in his room while drawing Kang Chul’s death and end to the manga without a resolution to his storyline (Think of a korean Batman without the suit and brooding personality). Plot twist that’s in the synopsis, she gets pulled in by Kang Chul inside the comic and can come and go if it pertains to him because he controls it without realizing.

You have a main character who is written as this playboy orphan and sole survivor of his mass family’s murder that questions his existence and purpose BEYOND how we do. He meets this girl who speaks almost cryptically to him without realizing and knows more about him than needed or given, and now he’s experiencing oddities besides the notion of love that he can’t understand because it’s not how he is written and the glitches in his world.

This show is twisted in a psychological sense that messes with a comic character who is now alive and real, fucks up the mentality of the creator, puts the daughter in an immense amount of stress when she was just trying to be a fucking surgeon, yes, black haired Lee Tae Hwan is crush worthy in this unlike brown haired Lee Tae Hwan in Secretary Kim. (It’s the hair, you change the hair on a character and everything is different).

The exploration of what love is that works alongside the devoting dark plot of the culprit murderer really drives this show as well as the couple’s endless efforts to save/protect one another in any means necessary, even if they both suffer from it.

These two truly can’t live without one another and it shows with all they do for each other. There’s nothing they wouldn’t risk to keep one another in their arms.

And Lee Jong Suk delivers his share of being one of the King of Korean Drama Kisses as well, gif saving worthy and iconic ones as well.

#1. Strong Woman Do Bong-Soon

Park Hyungsik. Park Hyungsik. Park Hyungsik. Park Hyungsik.

Need I say more?

We stan Park Hyungsik’s character, Ahn Minhyuk, in this blog. We basically stan Do Bong Soon as well for how happy she makes him.

This is possibly totally bias but this is one of my two white noise korean drama shows that I continuously find myself rewatching time and time again. And that’s saying something since I only have one white noise show that’s in English. Three shows total.

People had issues with the script and what the actors had to say, but for the most part I thought the love story and the rival one was pretty well written, then again I kept watching different translations on different sites. So I wasn’t bothered at all. People also didn’t like the side characters and stories regarding the sketchy well dressed gang she hospitalizes in the first episode that stuck around until the last but I felt it was important to have them to prove how having Bong Soon in their lives can change a person and how she has this affect on people overall.

My god, the love story. Bong Soon has this massive crush on police officer and high school friend she was sweet on, Guk Doo, who doesn’t seem to acknowledge her feelings and is all about protecting the law and stuff (I can respect, I’m a LEO kid). He isn’t aware of her abilities of being incredibly strong and nearly indestructible. Nah, instead, CEO of AIN Software, Ahn Minhyuk, accidentally finds out and is like super chill but excited and curious about it and her??

He hires her as his bodyguard in the mist of receiving threats regarding his family company and they find an odd balance with each other while Minhyuk falls in love with her so hard, he literally tries to protect HER from danger. He’s so wonderfully extra that it’s no wonder Park Hyungsik and Park Seo Joon are best friends in real life, they both have the ability to play someone so over the top in a cute and funny way that you appreciate it about them. A cutie with a button nose and weird ears decked out in monochrome color scheme and dark sunglasses, whistling as he rides a hoverboard around? Die for 100%. Someone who gets crazy jealous and presents it in a healthily humorous way by dramatically posing to securitygates of his company that open automatically for him? Stan. Wants Bong Soon’s attention while she’s in a room away from him so her opera sings her name loudly and dramatically? Worship.

While it’s hard to watch the slow progression on her end yet the obvious budding of it, it’s understandable since she’s been in love with Guk Doo ever since high school and has assumably never had a boyfriend in hopes that he would reciprocate her feelings. So the second time watching it and stepping back to analyze, I could forgive her.

All the while, Minhyuk making Heart Eyes ™️ at Bong Soon for literally everything she does makes you feel. The way he holds her and treats her like she’s this precious porcelain doll that could break it handled the wrong way speaks volumes considering he knows of her Herculean strength. He openly loves her when he comes to realize what she means to him -which is a lot sooner than you’d think but welcomed-, and looks at no one else but her. The love story probably would’ve also happened faster if everyone didn’t think Minhyuk was gay (that’s a solid fact, I’m not joking), only those close to her and see how he acts/looks at her realize “lmao, he ain’t gay Hunni”. Minhyuk is this cute hottie that girls wish were straight (it’s fucking hilarious) who acts like a complete lovesick dork with Bong Soon. He freaks and spazzes out when she calls him a nickname or acts cheeky with dropping honorifics, speaks aloud to himself of his thoughts regarding her, literally can’t contain himself when she acts cute to get on his good side and distract his anger.

Oh and there’s like this serial kidnapper too so there’s badass scenes of the two working together, power couple def.

Their soundtrack slaps too and you somehow end up vibing with it. The song You’re My Garden on it, I learned to sing it because it’s one of my top favs.

They’re just the cutest with their hamster and puppy dog relationship. It’s my go to show and I won’t stop watching this. It’s so obvious how Park Hyungsik grew to fall in love Park Bo Young (that’s a legitimate fact) when filming and their bts cuts are too cute, I wish they were dating in real life.

(Also, we have another King of kiss scenes -to those who watched this drama already, you know the scene, iconic 🔥🎼)

[im-the-yang-lets-fight]

My thoughts on She-ra season 2

Oh boy, get your seatbelts on my friends, cause this will be a long one!

I just binge-watched the 7 episodes of the second season of "She-Ra and the princesses of power" and I, being the huge fan of the show that I am, couldn't help but want to share my thoughts about it. I'll try to organize this to the best of my abilities, and be warned, there are spoilers ahead.

1. The Plot

This season felt a lot like filler to me, at least plot-wise. There's not a lot of new things going on throughout the episodes, and the things we do learn are near the end of the season and seem like they are the set up for what's yet to come. 

However, the amount of character development we get makes up for the lack of plot (as opposed to the 1st season, where the focus of the show was on its story).

2. The Characters

Without the need to push the story forward, the show took a step back to focus instead on reaffirming the things we already knew about the characters and presenting us with some new depth to them as well. I was pleasantly surprised to discover those characters were exactly like I imagined them to be, which of course only speaks volumes to how well done this show is.

a) She-Ra/Adora

The first few episodes of the season showcase Adora as she trains with Light Hope in other to furder master the powers she possesses as She-Ra (and as you can see by the picture above, she's still learning).

On the later episodes though, the focus shifts to the shenanigans she is up to with the best friend squad and the princess alliance - and it is here we get some tidbits of extra-information and development from Adora.

In the first season, we didn't get to explore this character in depth (which is ironic considering she's the protagonist), but this season we did get to see a little of Adora's emotions and how she feels about dealing with her responsibilities, especially on episode 4.

Not only do we see that Adora is constantly worried about not being good enough and failing like Mara did, but we also see that her time on the Horde has impacted her in a meaningful way, because she deals with that stress like a soldier would: By overplanning and strategizing. 

(OBS.: On the note of Adora being raised as a soldier and still having that integrated inside of her, I think it was clever to show that she sleeps with a dagger on her hand

and that her first instinct about everything is to fight it,

because it contextualizes her "dumb jock" attitude into something more real.)

b) Catra

Since Catra was the emotional focus of the first season, on this one instead of getting development we get a reaffirmation of something everybody already knew, that Catra longes for acceptance and love - that couldn't be more clear then it is on episode 6 (as you can see on the picture above). It is Catra's need for validation that pushes her to help Shadow Weaver even after everything she has done to her, and this is the biggest thing Catra needs to overcome on her/in other for her to have a redemption arc, and I believe Entrapta and especially Scorpia have a huge hole in helping her overcome her past.

This season we also got to see Catra as Hordak's second-in-command, and I think that showed us how unprepared she was to deal with it (even if her violent persistence - allied with Entrapta's inventions - did help the horde gain terrain), therefore reaffirming that she needs to overcome her impulsiveness in other to truly succeed. 

c) Glimmer 

What I loved from Glimmer this season was her scene in episode two where, like it is illustrated in the picture above, she decides to punch Catra after finding out Entrapta is working with the Horde. I like this scene because one of my favorite things in Glimmer is that rage, that impulsiveness she has within her (as a princess she's supposed to always be level-headed like her mother, but her personality is clearly her father's - more on that later), it makes her different from Bow and Adora and - God forbid anyone mentions this to her on the show - similar to Catra.

I also enjoyed her interactions with Frosta, but I'll touch on that later.

d) Bow

Bow's story on episode 7 was one of the highlights of the season, getting to see more of his past and meeting his dads was an absolute delight, and it gives us a nice context on why Bow is the way he is, after all, with such loving parents it is hard not to grow so in tune with your emotions as he is.

Another thing I really loved was to see more of Bow's invertor side, this love for inventions he has is one of the things I wanted to see more of in the series, because I think he has the potential to rival Entrapta (although she will always be the best) and with them now working on different sides of the fight, this will make for an interesting plot-point. Not to mention he might just be the one to show the princesses that magic and technology can mingle. 

d) Scorpia 

If what they did with Bow made me happy, what they did with Scorpia blew me off into space. 

In the first season we did see that she cared for Catra, but this season we got to explore the depth of her feelings and it was magnificent! I can't say they are romantic even if they seem to be coded that way, because not only do I have faith that She-ra would portray them without the coding if that was the case, but also because I have a similar relationship with my best friend (I genuinely consider him to be my soulmate, even if it is platonic).

Of course, you can interpret Scorpia's feelings as you wish, because, regardless of the nature of that relationship, the important part is that I have absolute certainty that it is one of the things that will change Catra.

Just like you can draw parallels between Catra and Glimmer and how they relate to Adora, you can do the same with Scorpia and the Princess of Power (in relation to Catra, obviously). I firmly believe it is this new friendship, absolutely free of comparisons and regret, that will teach Catra about self-love and worth, and how there are people in her life that truly care about her (something I believe she didn't see with Adora because of, well, everything).

Another thing I loved was Scorpia and Sea Hawk being friendly to each other, it is definitely a relationship I want to see more of in the future.

e) Frosta

Of all of the princesses in the alliance, the one I think I loved to see the most was definitely Frosta. Not only is she ridiculously cute, but it was nice to see her step out of her "Ice Queen" persona and into a more carefree version of herself (as the show made clear that is because she finally has friends, and can let her childlike demeanor out more often).

Her relationship with Glimmer is precious and a good reminder that even with everything that's going on, all of them are just kids and teens.

f) Micah

Oh boy, I loved what we got to see about Glimmer's dad when he was young! It's easily seen that he is just like his daughter when it comes to personality (impulsive, eager, skilled but impatient) and I hope to see more of him.

And the fact that he trained with Light Spinner and helped her become what she is today just adds to the lore and I hope to see in the future what he did after that incident.

Oh and, speaking of Light Spinner... 

g) Light Spinner/Shadow Weaver

This season we got a little bit of backstory on Shadow Weaver, however, I can't say I'm that pleased with it. I did like to know how she came to work with Hordak, but I kinda wanted to focus to be on what she wants to do now. The best part for me was her manipulating Catra (and even Micah), that showed a lot about how cunning and perceptive she is, and how dangerous she can become, even without the Black Garnet.

h) Hordak

Last season Hordak was an ominous name being thrown around and a shadow on a screen, but this season we got to see more of him, and I can say I'm pleased. Although next to Entrapta he seems extremely non-threatening (I believe that's because Entrapta herself doesn't realize the danger he can be to her, and that puts him off-balance), with Catra he is very scary looking and I am dying to find out what will be of her after her failure to obey him. 

He also gave us a little bit of plot, with that portal he is trying to construct, I can only wonder what are his intentions and if they involve Adora.

3. Tidbits and Shenanigans 

Now, this wouldn't be a complete report on my thoughts about She-ra, if I didn't mention my favorite things that happened this season, so lets jump right in! 

a) Animation Fails

For the Glimmadora shippers out there, I can only say that I do agree Glimmer and Adora are made for each other, after all, they both rock the "I'm dead inside" look!

• Exhibit A: Adora

• Exhibit B: Glimmer

• Conclusion: 

b) Entrapta being Entrapta

5 seconds later...

c) The only hug you'll see Catra give to the best friend squad for a long while

d) The only hug you'll see Adora give to Scorpia for a long while

e) Do I ship it? I shouldn't

And don't tell me that these two fighting didn't give you a frenemies-to-lovers vibe, even if we do love Sea Hawk. 

f) The table RPG

Everything about it was great, but more specifically...

l) Glimmer's version

ll) Bow's version

lll) Sea-Ra

lV) Adora's purgatory/wet dream

g) Scorpia's love for Catra

(Lonnie's "I can't deal with this shit" face though)

"when you try to have a date but she is too busy thinking of ways to defeat her ex."

h) Glimmer being the voice of reason

 i) Adora's majors

(can someone make a fanfiction where Adora is an overachiever with at least 3 majors? Please?)

j) Light Hope  being weird

k) "Lunch"

m) Sea Hawk showing he knows what's up

n) Horses

o) Bow and Glimmer need to learn to kidnap people

p) And Finally, Catradora

We didn't get many scenes with them, but the ones we got were precious!

• Exhibit A: Hey, Adora

• Exhibit B: Hey Catra

• Exhibit C: You're mine now

OBS.: What I thought after this scene was what Catra said before it.

4. TL;DR

This show is amazing and even if we didn't get much plot-wise this season, the character development and how funny it was makes up for it! Thank you, Netflix, Noelle Stevenson, and everyone else involved in this amazing thing!

[agandcw]

Otome Idea because I got bored one/two year(s) ago

ライバル王女：王位の探求

Raibaru ōjo: Ōi no tankyū

Princess Rivalry: Quest for the Throne

(The translation is probably inaccurate)

(This an idea for an Otome, not a real thing)

The mechanic is try to outrun the rival of the heroine.

There will be a chart of how far the rival or heroine has gone.

This will usually help the heroine to have greater power to do whatever she wants, specifically marrying the royals in certain routes.

Your job here is to help the heroine have the throne or help her fall in love since it is an Otome after all.

Every royal route has four endings:

Good ending, where you get married and get the throne.

Normal ending that goes in two ways. One has you fail to surpass your sister and your royal love gets taken away from you. The second is much more happier, where your not in love it's friendship! You guys get married but it is more of platonic one than a romantic one because you guys are closer than other people and they want an heir.

Bad ending is where you get banished instead, because she is consider an underdog.

As long you surpass the rival in every royal route, then you'll get a bonus ending where it shows how you are doing.

In the non-royal routes you have no reason to outrun the rival, but you have to do it to pass time and get certain endings.

The good ending is obviously getting married out in the open or having a secret relationship. It depends on your grades.

Normal ending is friendship, because my arm ass wants to.

Bad ending is dying.

If you surpass the rival in all routes you get a bonus ending.

Charater introduction:

The heroine has a very energetic personality and is considered annoying, but she isn't dumb. She's not that dense either, she easily notices when the chosen guys blush or get flustered around her, so she teases them yet somewhat insecure if she is reading it wrong. Sometimes she takes the action of confessing her feelings in most of the routes. She has a milky chocolate color hair and sea-blue eyes. She likes the ocean, loves to draw for spare time. She is very resentful towards Amaya since childhood, because she was bullied and was neglected a lot because of Amaya never once blaming her neglecters. Her name is Ayano Ito. Her name is changeable, but not her last name. She also tries so hard to get notice by everyone, mostly tries for her father. She is very stubborn most of the times and get irrational because of it. She was 15 when the game started happened. She can also understand facial expressions. Why, because she wants to surpass her sister over anything.

The boys didn't notice her or just found her annoying at first (excluding the tenth one) and only some of them tried to get Amaya's attention, but when you choose their route they do become warm.

First boy you ever meet is a seemingly kind gentleman, they didn't directly meet but she sees him from afar. His name is Aito Saito. He has the typical rich blond boy with blue eyes, he is the 1st born of the Saito family and acts quite kind when meeting him directly. When I say 'act' he is literally acting. He's the typical 'bad boy playing nice' type. He does get better when you pick the right options or words he always wanted to hear. He is always neglected by his parents. It's because he doesn't have magic, he was called Aito, because he has the kanji of 1 and to them 1 was great, but he failed their expectation as their child so they neglected him. He felt so betrayed that he always rebelled, but since he is a court for Princess Amaya he took it as an opportunity to prove his parents wrong, that he is worth something. When you choose his route expect a lot of bitter moments with him, but he does show signs of guilt with his facial expressions and words. Don’t worry, although he is worse right now he gets better as person for Ayano and for him. He is one year older than Ayano.

Second one is a knight, Ayano knows about him because she need to outrun Amaya for EVERYTHING! His name is Daisuke, last name unknown until later. He doesn't really care about Ayano that much and only serves Amaya. He's pretty much cold towards the heroine. Later on he is a tsundere pretty much, but nicer. Is the same age as Amaya. He has black hair and gray eyes.

Third one is the third child of the Saito family. His name is Eiji. He is one year younger than Ayano. He is not a court, just here for the sweets. He found Ayano pretty annoying at first, but warmed up to her when she started to go along with his pranks. He flusters her, so it's rare to see him flustered. Looks exactly like his brother, Aito.

Fourth boy is second child of the Saito family. His name is Daichi. He is the second child and a true gentleman. He is the same age as Ayano. He didn't notice her at first, but is nice to her. After getting to know each other, they will act like good friends. Is a court for Amaya. In full honesty, he just thinks of it as an obligation, because she is a princess and he is a prince. Is not even interested in her. He disagree of most royals treatment of the poor and disguise himself as a poor. When Amaya threatened Daichi, he had to pretend to be cold towards the heroine. He looks like his brother, just taller.

Fifth boy is a servant boy for Princess Amaya. He finds the heroine very annoying with her loud mouth, but tolerates. His name is Shin. Not much to say about him, he prefers to be a mystery, but when it goes further in the route he is a loner. He is one year younger than Ayano. Later in his route, it turns out his family died to Ayano’s family and resents her family and associated Ayano with them, but that all changed when he got to know Ayano better. He has black hair and red eyes.

Sixth boy is a commoner boy. His name is Akira Nakamura. He has brown hair and brown eyes. He is a naive and innocent boy, always so kind. He would tell a lie if he was asked to. Is two years younger than Ayano, about to be 14.

Seventh boy is a prince. His name is Eiichi Watanabe. He is very quiet. He also get flustered~ is the same age as Amaya. Eiichi is a loner per say due to betrayal of a past friend. He has dark green hair and purple eyes.

Eighth boy is a servant for Ayano. He pretends to find the heroine tolerable, but is quite spiteful towards her. His name is Fumihiro Yamamoto. He warms up to Ayano a little by little when he hears about her past. He is a year younger than Ayano. Has dark red hair and blue eyes.

Ninth boy is a mysterious thief. He is the 'I'm very seductive but I get easily jealous' type. His name is Hisashi Tanaka. Too many suggestive scenes. The pedo is three years older than Ayano. He has blond hair and silver eyes. There's actually no romantic route here, just a platonic one where the mc tries to find a therapist for this abused asshole. They're practically friends. The reason for the rape scenes? That’s because of poor child raising and how he was taught to survive. Not gonna lie tho, he did sort of had a crush on Ayano because he is a sick bastard.

The final one is the one who truly cared for Ayano. He is 43. When you go to his route his love towards Ayano bloomed into something more, instead of a mentor it’s like a daughter. He has long silver hair and a blue eye at the left and a green one at the right. His name is Akio Kobayashi. He is a very gentle man that is kind and very patient. He can be seen as a father figure because I Stan for platonic routes because he old as balls.

Amyaya Ito is the rival of Ayano. Amaya doesn't sound like a brat, but like people say "action speak louder than voices." She isn't spoiled rotten, but she is a total manipulative brat. She is two years older than Ayano. She has raven hair, magenta eyes, and has plump cheeks.

Her mom is the child of both Ayano and Amaya. The fathers love her or needed her money so much that they didn't punish her since it's possible that she can divorce them. She has absolute power since she is in a royal family that is the strongest and richest of them all. She is a true wh*** and b****. Her name is Andrea Delaney. She has black hair and magenta eyes.

Amaya's father is Lee Sato. Ayano's father is Madison Ito. Lee is in love with Andrea, the other just wants her money, so his family can be the richest. They both have brown hair, but Sato has gray eyes and Ito has blue eyes.